Insanity

Chapter 6

Song: Lonely by Nathan Wagner

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"I'm not special, just 
a simple, broken man."

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Natalia's heart pounded in her chest and her palms had grown clammy. The room was dark, just like the one she had been in earlier. Was he going to make her try and fight him again? Was he going to kill her, as her acquaintance had suggested? Natalia would never admit it out loud, but she was scared.

His hand released its grip on her wrist and she immediately pulled her arm to her side, preparing to fight for her life. She'd wait for him to make a move and once he did, she was going to give it everything she had and not look back.

But no punches came, no kicks, no clattering or clicking of dangerous weapons. Instead, the room was doused in dim, flickering lights that probably needed replacing. Instead of seeing blood and bodies on the floor as she had expected, she saw a small, navy blue cot and a rusted toilet and sink in the corner. That was all, just one cot, one toilet, one sink. Was she being kept in prison or something?

The yellow lightbulb above her head flickered irritatingly. He stood before her, just in front of the navy blue cot, his hands down at his sides. Natalia frowned. "What's this?" she asked cautiously and slowly, trying to keep her voice from cracking.

His eyes seemed to light up some, the blue in them finally seeming to take over some of the persistent darkness. It was an odd sight, but a relieving one nonetheless. "This is my room," he said, extending his arms to the side, almost as if he was proud of the little space.

This is a room? Natalia thought to herself. And here she had thought this was a prison but no, this was where he, the Winter Soldier, spent his days off. Though, she wasn't sure that he ever had any days off to begin with.

Natalia thought of her own room, furnished with a nice, normal bed, a dresser with a mirror and drawers, a bedside table. . . She had a nicer room than Hydra's most feared assassin did! But why had he brought her here, if not to make her try and fight again or kill her? A part of her wanted to turn and run, but she knew that would be stupid. He could easily outrun her or shoot her from a distance. He was trained to kill and if he wanted to kill her, he would. So why hadn't he? Natalia glanced around the little room once more, noting the cobwebs gathering in the corners of the ceiling. "It's nice," she lied, hugging her arms tightly to her body, "very, uh, homey." Her nervousness began to eat away at her insides; the only exit was through the door behind her, which he had conveniently stepped away from. But if he attacked her and by some miracle she managed to escape, what would she tell people? That the Winter Soldier attacked her? That would be of little use and besides, she didn't even know his name, or if he even had one.

He cocked an eyebrow, as if he could sense her nervousness. "What's wrong?" he asked, seeming confused.

Natalia shifted her weight back and forth on her feet. "I'm just confused as to why I'm in here," she said slowly, carefully gauging his reaction with each word that rolled off her tongue, watching for any signs that she may be setting him off.

"We need to talk about today," he said, and Natalia gulped. She knew this was coming, she knew she should have expected this. Trouble always came for quitters like her, quitters who ran out of the room crying because of a little pain, and she knew that. Her gaze dropped to the grimy floor in guilt. Natalia drew in a breath, trying to slow her racing heart. "And we need to talk about how I, er, injured you," he added.

Natalia looked up, meeting his eyes, though she herself was confused. "Wait, what?" she asked, squinting at him.

He pressed his lips into a thin line for a brief moment, seeming to ponder over his next statement. He sat down on the pathetic cot, which creaked under his weight. "It was wrong of me to punch you in the face," he said with what appeared to be utmost sincerity, though Natalia could hardly keep her laughter under wraps. What an odd thing for a soldier to apologize for, she thought. She didn't even see why it needed an apology - she had accepted the fact that injuries were something to be expected in training. Still, It was strange to see him this way; he almost looked vulnerable, in fact. His body language didn't display the confidence and closed-off demeanor she had seen him carry for the past week and instead, he seemed upset. He really did seem to feel guilty about what he had done, but Natalia still couldn't convince herself to believe that he was actually capable of feeling any emotions. But even if he couldn't feel emotions, he seemed to really be trying, and that in and of itself was interesting; why would he be trying to portray emotions now, after being completely stoic for a week? It just didn't make any sense.