Chapter Text
Jemma actually believes that at the end of this whole thing, she is going to become a dead woman.
She is not like the spies S.H.I.E.L.D. had sent on missions. She is no May. She is nothing like Natasha Romanoff. Nothing like Ward, although she isn't sure there is a universe out there that she would want to be like Ward.
She is not the muscle. She is the brain.
And yet, as she stares at the badge with an octopus on she is supposed to wear over her black lab coat, she feels the burden of being counted on to be that spy on her shoulders like she is freaking Atlas.
She is not horrible, even she has to admit.
Well, she is a horrible liar, as Skye feels the need to make clear every once in a while. And she never had more than little to no hand-to-hand combat training. But, to her best luck, she doesn't need much of those traits.
Having been promoted by Whitehall should be enough to prove that. She is doing good.
Or she is doing good when she doesn't think of Fitz. When she doesn't feel the regret of simply leaving him after all they've been through wash all over her.
She says she is doing it for S.H.I.E.L.D.
For the greater good.
For Fitz even.
But even she is not sure that it is true.
Being promoted gets her to see even worse scientific projects, which only shows that their plan is working.
Everyone, every single person in S.H.I.E.L.D., knows about HYDRA. About how evil, how cruel they can be. About how much they can hurt everyone.
But still she is shocked like a deer in headlights when she finally gets to meet their dear asset. Poor man is screaming from the top of his lungs as her eyes meet his wide cold blue ones.
She watches all the emotions fade from those eyes. His gritted teeth relaxes, his jaw softens.
She thinks she knows how cruel HYDRA can be but all she feels is her hands shaking with fear, all she hears is her heart thudding violently in her chest as she realizes she really doesn't. She has no idea.
"What do you think, Doctor Simmons?" Whitehall asks. His eyes are trained over her, unlike the eyes of the asset that are staring at the ceiling now.
"It's fascinating." She answers without a skip. Her voice doesn't shake but she is just glad that they can't feel her pulse. "May I?" She asks as she takes a step closer to the machine the man is tied to.
"By all means, Doctor Simmons. He is, from now on, your expertize. We think you can help us about his memory suppression" Whitehall answers with a smile on his face that Jemma wants to wipe away so much.
Memory suppression.
This is what this machine is there for.
They are suppressing, messing his memories and condition him to be their soldier. But what is so special about him? What does he have that all those willing HYDRA agents don't? Why do they need this man? She knows what HYDRA agents are capable of. One of them hurt them in a horrible way that she will never be able to forget. So, why do they need someone they need to wipe the memories of to work for them?
She doesn't dare to ask those questions. Because asking questions is dangerous here. No one is going to give her answers she doesn't need to know.
So she has to need them.
"How frequently does he get his memories back?" Her eyes linger on the leather bounds tying him tightly.
Them needing her help to suppress his memories is a good thing. Not only because it is amazing intel but also because it shows that even HYDRA can't manage to just get rid of one's personality and make them a soldier. They can brainwash them, somehow hypnotize them, lie to them for their whole lives but they can't simply take their whole personality and replace it with an octopus. Not yet. Something resists in a way they need to try over and over and over again.
"His memories are being erased after every mission. However he seems to react to triggers about his personal past." Whitehall answers again as the other scientists in the room are silent. They don't try to answer her or join the conversation.
"What kind of triggers, do we know?" She asks with actual interest. "Traumas or random memories? Would just getting him back to the place he grew up trigger his memories or does he need faces? Names maybe?"
Whitehall's smile grows. "Your enthusiasm is appreciated, Doctor Simmons. But unfortunately we do not have answers for these questions."
She nods quickly, not wanting to overstep somehow. "What is his name?" She is not sure if she should ask this but the question leaves her mouth before she can consider the comebacks.
"He doesn't need any other name than asset." The answer is sharp. But not unexpected.
She nods once again. "Of course. I just wanted to ask so we can test if he reacts to his name or any other related names for that matter." That's a good excuse, she thinks, you are doing well Jemma.
Whitehall stares at her for a few seconds. No emotion is visible in his face.
I'm a dead woman, she tells herself for the millionth time since she has gotten into the base.
"His name is James Buchanan Barnes. It's also recorded that he has been called Bucky." The woman standing next to Whitehall answers after a nod from the man.
One of the fingers of the man tied to the machine twitches violently at the latter name. His eyes are still unresponsive but just the single twich shows that Jemma was right.
And she already regrets it. The last thing she wants is to help HYDRA torture someone more than they already do.
"You are going to do great work here, Doctor Simmons. I knew I was right to promote you." Whitehall says before leaving the cold, dark room.
The woman next to him leaves with him but the other five scientists stay. They start working on the machine as Jemma stands there trying to figure out what to do.
"What are you doing?" She asks the brunette scientist with glasses.
"We are going to start the machine. We need to re-do the procedure in the event of him recognizing or reacting to something." The brunette answers with a monotone voice.
It scares her how easy this is for them. She remembers being uncertain about the things S.H.I.E.L.D. asked her to do, multiple times. She remembers sitting together with Fitz and doubting if their call to join S.H.I.E.L.D. was the right call. She remembers Fitz having nearly panick attacks over some projects. This is what's supposed to be, she thinks. A scientist shouldn't just be okay with whatever they are asked to do. They need to doubt and question and reject when they need to do. It's the nature of science. No important scientist in the history ever thought what they were given was enough. None of them were ever satisfied. These people shouldn't be either.
"Stop this." She says with a confident voice.
The scientists in the room give her dead looks. A tall one with a smug smile walks towards her. "Look, new girl. I know Whitehall might trust you. But in this room, our words matter. Not some ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent's. So either step back or help us." His voice is condescending but not enough to scare Jemma off. She had dealt with worse.
"And what do you plan to tell Whitehall when you have no progress over the asset? He trusts me, yes. I'm not sure he will trust you if months pass with no achievement though. Am I right?" She shoots back with a smile of her own.
She can see the confidence in his eyes melting, clearly. "It's time to do things my way." She talks, louder this time to make sure everyone hears it.
"And what exactly is your way?" An elder man talks, his hair is grey and his voice is raspy.
She swallows the lump on her throat before answering with a fake confidence that she hopes is not so obvious. "We are going to let him get the memories back. We are going to find out his triggers, one by one. And finally get rid of them for real."
The room is silent for a few seconds until one of them shouts with an eye roll. "This is stupid. The soldier would kill us all by then." A ginger woman with a ponytail nods as the elder man shushes them. "Let the girl talk."
"We are in a base full of soldier and spies. With the correct precautions, this is the only way to actually succeed." She says, keeping eye contact with the man who seems to have faith in her for some reason.
The man nods at her with a soft smile on her face. "You heard her. Come on." The scientists seem to listen to him. They back down as Jemma takes a relaxed breath.
"Now, go and find out what happened right before he was triggered. So we can start working." She orders.
The four of them leave the room after her order, leaving her alone with the asset and the elder man. He is sitting on a chair, away from the machine.
"Thank you," she says with a soft voice. "For backing me up there."
The smile of the elder man grows. "It's nothing. I've been telling them this whole wiping him out every time thing was ridiculous forever."
Jemma smiles back, an unintentionally genuine smile. She sits down next to the man and keeps listening to him. He sounds like he is a smart man. Not smart in a just scientist way but smart in a wise-old-man way.
"It's not only ridiculous but also is pure torture for no reason." He goes on and Jemma finds herself nodding frantically at every word of him. Because he is right.
He shakes his head to himself. "There are lots of S.H.I.E.L.D. dirtbags out there that we could be doing this to instead of this old guy." He shrugs.
The smile on Jemma's face freezes. But she keeps moving her head in agreement, telling herself to keep her cool.
For a second right there, she forgot where she was and who she was talking to and it shouldn't happen again. It can't happen again.
"Old guy?" She asks as she tries to keep her voice calm. "He looks barely thirty-five or something."
"You don’t know who he is?" He laughs at her, whole-heartedly in a way that makes her feel even more nervous. "This guy over there served with the Captain America. He's been HYDRA's asset ever since. My old man was one of the first scientists to work on the erasure of his memories."
Jemma feels the wind knock out of her.
This whole play here is even bigger than what she expected it to be. HYDRA experimenting on people is nothing new. But doing it on a friend of Captain America is evil in a way she never imagined.
She wonders if there is something about this man that draws HYDRA to him so badly or if it's just their payback to the Captain.
Elder man stands slowly. "I'm going to get myself some herbal tea. You want some, my dear?" He asks with a soft voice that no longer works on Jemma.
"Thank you," she forces a smile. "But I think I'm going to start working on our asset. He seems to be a quite interesting project."
"Well, then, don't let me keep you from it." He says before leaving Jemma alone in the room with the blank-eyed soldier.
She feels her heart beat fastening as she stares at his metal arm. She doesn't want to imagine what this man had gone through for all those years.
He's been going through this longer than her parents were alive. She closes her eyes and tries to take a breathe but a strangled sound coming from the machine makes her eyes grow wide in seconds.
His eyes are now trained over her, not so blank anymore.
She feels her whole body stiffen even though she can see the bindings on him, probably strong enough to hold him through all kind of pain and suffering.
She stands up and walks towards him, slowly. She knows there are cameras and microphones all over the room. Even when there are no agents around, she is under the threat of getting caught.
She comes closer as his eyes scan her thoroughly. "Hey,"
She can see his whole body shaking but she doesn't know if it's the pain or fear. She doesn't even know most of the things they put him through.
"Hey, Bucky," she says as she tries to give him an assuring smile.
His face freezes at the name. His eyes glisten with something she can't name.
"He-" he tries to talk but winces. "He called me that," he says between gritted teeth.
She swallows before asking. "Who?" She regrets the question almost immediately. Her getting the answer to her question means HYDRA getting the answer.
It kills her that no matter what she does to protect herself, she is going to keep helping HYDRA.
There is a reason she was never the spy.
They are going to get the answer no matter what, she tells herself as she watches the man try to get the answer out.
"They told me to kill him." He talks, not quite the answer she is looking for but she can live with it.
"Okay." She says trying to protect their eye contact, hoping that she can give him some comfort.
"He said I was his friend." He whispers, she can hear the desperation in his tone. Her heart breaks once again, for him.
She gives him one last, sad smile before turning her back to him and walking out of there.
She has walked into this HYDRA base with the sole reason of gathering as much as intel as she can. But as she lies on her bed at night, in dark, the blue eyes of the asset appearing in front of her not-even-closed eyes she realizes that's not her only purpose anymore.
She has never been that spy S.H.I.E.L.D. needs her to be right now. She can't just leave him there.
She is going to become a dead woman for sure.
However things don't exactly go the way she expects them to.
No one barges into her room and shoots her on the head. No one screams that she is a mole and kick her to the ground. No one tries to mess up with her newest project, wipe his memories again.
As a result, not so long later, she finds herself actually talking to the man instead of the asset.
He doesn't know who he is, not yet. But he feels emotions, observes, thinks like he is a humanbeing. Like he is not some kind of machine.
She doesn't ask him unnecessary questions. She can't risk him answering in a way that will danger one of them or someone dear to him. She gets enough intel to give HYDRA and leaves them with the consequences.
He remembers a redhead woman, green eyes, Russian. There are guns and kisses involved.
She never tries to get the name out of him. She says the exact words he used to Whitehall and goes back to the testing room. Changes the topic, prevents him from remembering something he shouldn't.
She finds out who listens to them, day by day. She makes it a habit to inform them what they are going to work on that day. Not because she loves sharing information with them but because she already has a plan.
So that one day when she finally informs them that, after spending days and days studying on it, they are going to work on some words that trigger him almost like his actual triggering words but in the opposite way in Russian, they don’t question or try to understand the context and the relation of the words.
She sits in front of him as his eyes open and focus on her. "You are back." He says with a small voice.
He is used to her existence now. And one thing in that awful place that gives Jemma some comfort is that he doesn't fear her like he fears the others in there. He doesn't flinch away when she gets closer, he doesn't go quiet when she is in the room.
"I am." She smiles. She tries to smile as much as she can with him. She doesn't think he had seen many smiles in a long time. "I'm here for some trigger words today." She sees the relaxation leave his face. She just hopes he won't go catatonic and will actually focus on the words. "Words that trigger you, sorry, I should've phrased that better."
He doesn't look like he is more relaxed but she needs to go on.
"помощь" Help.
She starts with the first word. The worst part is that she doesn't even know if she is using the correct word or if she pronounces it correctly.
She watches him stare at her with confusion. He expected to remember something and if she doesn't get him to understand what she is doing, he will make it clear that he doesn't remember something. She tries to stay calm.
"Доверься мне" Trust me.
Please, she thinks, trust me, so that I can help you. You need to trust me.
"побег" Escape.
I will help you escape this prison, I promise, she silently begs.
"I remember something." He says all of a sudden. Their eyes meet in a silent agreement and she lets out a breathe of relief.
"What is it, Bucky?" She asks, trying not to cheer and applaud like she is a little girl whose father got her a microscope as birthday present.
"I remember that blond man again." She knows he doesn't remember him. He knows he doesn't remember him. "I remember saving him from someone bigger than him. He trusted me to. And I did." She hears the silent I trust you in his voice.
"That's good." She says before standing up. I promise.
"I think we are done for today."
They share one last look before she leaves the room.
That's good.
She doesn't expect her façade to fall all of a sudden with the arrival of that brunette woman who leads the security. She is utterly scary, that much she notices.
It's so sudden and unexpected when she finds herself away from her asset, not seeing him for days.
But she knows they don't really leave him alone.
"Don't wipe his memories, we've come a long way." She tells Whitehall, almost begging. "Soon enough, we'll be able to erase every humane detail about him that he remembered."
Whitehall doesn't smile this time. His eyes are tightened as he watches her with something that makes her stomach flip. "We've got it covered, Doctor Simmons." He says before walking away from her.
She is losing their trust, it's not difficult to see.
She finds herself in front of the door to the cold room he is always in.
HYDRA is going to find her out soon enough. It's not a matter of if anymore, it's a matter of when.
She opens the door to find the ginger scientist and the elder man inside.
"What are you doing here?" Ginger one looks at her funnily. "They said you were not working on the asset anymore."
"Don't be so rude, Emily." The elder man scolds her. "This whole thing was her idea at the first place." He says with a smile directed at Jemma.
She tries to smile back as she looks at the machine and the man on it. His eyes are shut, his head is low.
"Did you wipe him?" She asks with a loud, worried voice and a frown on her face.
"No, my dear," the elder man answers calmly. "He is just sleeping. However, Whitehall thinks we're ready to wipe everything away."
Jemma shuts her own eyes and tries to calm herself.
"What's wrong with you?" Emily asks with a look on her face that could almost be named disgust. Doesn't surprise Jemma a bit.
"Nothing!" She knows she is horrible at lying at that moment but does it even matter? "Don't do the procedure yet, trust me." She looks at Bucky, only to see his eyes opening slightly. "побег," she says the word loudly, hoping he will understand before running out of the room, knowing the scientists in the room got no reason to trust her, hoping they do.
She runs in the corridor, hoping to get to her room before getting caught.
She runs into a tall man, it takes her a few seconds to recognize the scientist smug-face. "I've just talked to Whitehall," she says with her voice shaking. "He told me to take off the asset's restrainments. But you've been working on him longer than I have, so, maybe it should be you."
The man stares at her with a frown on his face. "Of course, it should be me." He says with a scoff and walks away.
Jemma puts her hands to her face and tries to take a breath.
There is nothing she could do for Bucky anymore. Only hope. Hope that he will manage to fight his way out of this prison.
Herself, though...
"Simmons!"
There is some running away to do for her, it turns out.