Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. FanFic: Winter Frost and Wolf's Fire

Oceans

OK.... Why is it so hard for me to find everyone today? Phil's on some weird mission, Fitz and Simmons are probably doing some weird science stuff, Skye's talking to Ward, and Bucky is nowhere to be found. What is this, seriously, guys? Bucky knows I don't really like to be left alone in underground places. Makes me twitchy. I slip into the hallway that leads to Brin's room, remembering that Phil asked me to keep an eye on her, and turn towards her door, my hand reaching for the knob. I turn the knob and open the door, suprised to see Bucky sitting there. I slide in the doorway, closing the door behind me, raising my eyebrow. Brin's dog jumps up and leaps towards me, licking my hands. I jump backwards, my shoulders slamming against the wall, memories of the arena days in the Red Room flashing through my brain, the scars from the teeth of the dogs starting to burn. Bucky rises immediately, putting himself between me and the dog, his hands gripping my shoulders, the metal one calming me more than his natural one. He starts speaking quietly in Russian, while I'm vaguely aware of Brin putting the dog in the bathroom. I flinch a little when I hear the Russian, but his voice isn't the voice of the intructors in the Red Room. At least that's what I'm telling myself, I'm kind of having trouble decifering past from present at the moment. My head is pounding with the migraines that come with memory restoration, and I can almost feel the teeth of the dogs ripping into my skin. I tense, and feel Bucky's hands tighten on my shoulders, keeping me at least a little grounded in the present. I hear the dog bark from the bathroom and in a moment of pure panic, I throw Bucky's hands off my shoulders with a panic-fueled strength and bolt, almost tearing the door off of its hinges in my efforts to get away, away from the thing I've always been terrified of. I'm not sure where I'm running, but as long as it gets me away from the dog, I don't entirely care.

"Hey." I look up at Bucky, realizing that I've somehow managed to twist myself into the smallest area possible in the Playground, behind the pipes in one of the underground vaults.

"Hey." He sits facing me, his knees touching mine so I knew he was there.

"You OK?" I shrug, not really wanting to talk at the moment. "You panicked pretty bad back there."

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me. It's not like I forgot in the three minutes it took me to get here." I'm snapping at him, but it's really hard not to. I'm terrified of dogs. The instructrs at the Red Room put us into the "arena rooms" every so often to test our strengths and our will to survive. Either with one of the girls in the Red Room, or a dog. A dog trained to kill. They'd put you in the room with the instruction 'Only one of you is to walk out of here alive.' They always put me into the room with the dogs, testing my strengths. I nearly died every time I was put into the room, and I have many scars from the fights. The walls of the Red Room are indeed red, but not because of paint. To this day, I am completely and totally terrified of dogs. Of any kind.

"I've been looking for you for about an hour and a half. Now. What's up? Brin's probably kind of freaked out at the moment." Chakkiym. That next conversation's going to be a little awkward... 'Hey sorry I freaked out when your dog attacked me, I'm just a little emotionally and physically and mentally scarred. So how are you?' I make a mental note to avoid Brin as much as possible for while. Especially when the dog's with her. Bucky's knee bumps me, bringing me back to the present. I glance up at him, look down again, and start to relay the stories. Letting him inside the walls only one other person has managed to get past. Natasha was in the same experience as I was, so she pretty much knows the story. She's one of the 2 people I trust with my life. The other person is sitting in front of me, listening while I recount the terrible events of my past. I think this is why Brin and I don't get along. I read her file before I gave it to Bucky. She was in the foster home system for a few years and then ran away from the system when she was 12. Yeah, OK, not a great life, but she didn't have what I did.  She didn't wake up in the middle of the night when she was six years old and feel herself being dragged out the window as her house went up in flames. She didn't stand there wondering why the man who had saved her life wasn't going back in to save her parents and her little sister. She wasn't taken to a Russian assassin academy after she watched her house burn to the ground. She didn't have to fight for her life every day of her life. She didn't have to forfeit her childhood in order to become a killer. She didn't go to bed sick because poison had been slipped into her food to help her build up an immunity. She didn't have to fear constantly for her life; one mistake and she was dead. When I finally got out of the Red Room, I was picked up by Hydra. Turned into one of their weapons just like Bucky was. I finally managed to escape after 50 years. I ended up on the streets, and Phil saved me. Phil saved Brin too, but she wouldn't have been tortured and had her memory wiped until she was once again a mindless killer. She would've gotten 6 months in Juvie, at the most and then been released again.Big deal. Bucky silently listens when I tell him all of this. His eyes hold mine evey time I look up for a second, before I turn away again.

"Hey. It's OK. That's all over now. You're here and you're safe." He lifts his left hand and tips my chin up, making me look at him. "You're OK. Got that? I won't let them hurt you." His voice is reassuring, and I know he's telling the truth.

"OK." He smiles a bit at me, and I find myself smiling back. Just a little bit. But it's a start.