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Red Room, 1996
She wanted to go back to Ohio.
It had been eight months since Yelena was separated from her sister and returned to the Red Room. She barely remembered her early years here and without Natasha to guide her, she was confused and lost.
She learned the family she grew up with was a lie. Some part of her still didn’t want to believe it. Now, she was stuck in this horrible place.
Today was the worst day.
Yelena had been hiding for the past couple hours in a silent corner of the facility to avoid the trainers and the other Widow trainees. Her stomach growled since she skipped dinner, but she was holding her broken wrist and trying to stifle her sobs. She was waiting until the bed time bell went off to sneak into bed.
It was younger Widows in training going against the older ones, many of the younger Widows being beaten. She was paired with a large teenage girl with brown hair tied in a braid. It whipped right into Yelena’s face, making her lose the fighting stance she was in. After that, she barely stood a chance and then the girl had broken her wrist. The instructors and handlers screamed at her as she tried to hold back tears.
Weak. Broken. Pathetic.
That’s all she was to them.
Her thoughts stopped abruptly when she heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. She didn’t know if it was a guard or a handler.
She didn’t want to find out. She held her breath and closed her eyes, waiting for the footsteps to go past her. She’d always been a good hider. Natasha told her that.
Her heart ached at the thought of her older sister. The last time they saw each other was when they landed at the Red Room after Cuba. She realized very quickly that she couldn’t do this on her own.
She wanted her sister.
She wanted to go home.
She bit her lip to hold back a whimper when the footsteps stopped where she was, feeling an ominous presence by her. She risked opening one eye and turning her head to whoever was standing there.
Two cold, almost unnaturally blue eyes met her own. They seemed to glow in the darkened hallway. Right at her.
She immediately recognized the metal arm as it gleamed in the moonlight streaming through the small windows, standing out against the black tac gear. Yelena could see the knives glinting when the light caught onto them.
Her stomach felt like a bucket of ice when she realized who it was.
“Soldat,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
The Winter Soldier tilted his head, his eyes not leaving from Yelena as she tried to hide herself more into the corner. His dark brown, shoulder length hair casted shadows on his face, so Yelena couldn't see it clearly. The thick black mask covering half his face didn’t help either.
Only those unnerving, unblinking eyes were visible.
The Winter Soldier had been a periodic visitor to the Red Room. He would silently observe or do demonstrations for the Widows during training. He’d correct a fighting form or de-escalate a spar gone too far, but he would always do so patiently and with care. One time, he even nodded to Yelena and Anya when they did a fighting move correctly after failing a few times.
But Yelena was still scared of the Winter Soldier. It was his stare that always set her nerves on edge.
She didn’t know much about the Soldier, only that he was working with HYDRA and the Soviets, which was why he would make appearances in the Red Room. The girls would gossip about his origins, making up wild stories about how he was immortal or he was a robot.
“Soldat?” Yelena repeated, trying to gauge what the Winter Soldier was going to do. She didn’t know what to expect. Was he here to drag her to a handler? Was he going to punish her himself?
She looked at her broken wrist, the bruise turning a deep purple. She sniffed and rubbed her nose with her sleeve, feeling a wave of embarrassment rush through her. She didn’t know if she could handle a lecture from the Winter Soldier.
However, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Winter Soldier crouch down next to her. He kept his distance, remaining a couple arms lengths away from Yelena. She couldn’t move, frozen to her spot.
Still, Yelena lifted her head.
The Winter Soldier was kneeling with mismatched hands resting on his knees. His shoulders weren’t the straight line of a soldier at attention. Instead they were relaxed and curved in a little, like he was trying to make himself smaller. There was a line between his eyebrows as they knitted together and he stared at her broken wrist. His eyes lost their intensity from before, instead they were full of…concern?
“You’re hurt,” his gruff voice croaked out in Russian, muffled behind the mask. It was the first time she’d heard him speak. Despite how hoarse he sounded, she didn’t expect him to be so soft spoken. She pulled her knees closer to her chest, fresh tears welling in her eyes. She wanted to be small and disappear. She wanted to go home.
Then the Winter Soldier lifted his right hand towards her, the one made from skin and bone, "can I see?"
Yelena hesitated. As young as she was, she had seen enough in the Red Room to not immediately trust anyone. One of her first lessons was within the first couple of months, when she took an extra helping of food from a guard. She was forced to sit at a handler’s desk as that same guard took a ruler to her hands until her knuckles bled. Even now, there were still traces of scars from her punishment.
She didn’t take anything from the adults or even the other older Widows after that. Lesson learned.
Kindness was weakness. Accepting it made you pathetic.
However, the Winter Soldier sat there patiently, hand outstretched and waiting for Yelena.
Some part of her knew he wasn’t there to hurt her. If he wanted to, he probably would’ve done so already. Instead he was here, wanting to check Yelena’s injury.
In a weird way, he reminded her of Natasha. The times when her sister would take a look at Yelena’s scraped knees at the park.
Slowly, she slid closer, sitting in front of the Soldier and reached out. He cradled her hand so delicately and stared intently at the injury.
“Training accident?” he asked, not looking up from Yelena’s wrist.
Yelena nodded and sniffed, “one of the older girls broke it.”
The Winter Soldier shook his head slightly and muttered something Yelena couldn’t hear because of the mask. He slowly moved his left hand to the injury, flinching it away when Yelena winced at the cool metal on her tender wrist.
“I’m sorry, malyshka,” he said softly, “did that hurt?”
It didn’t hurt, but the apology alone was enough to set young Yelena over the edge. To be called “malyshka” by the Winter Soldier, made her sob all over again.
The Winter Soldier’s head snapped up at Yelena’s cries, his eyes getting wider when he saw the tears rolling down. His hand went towards her, but froze before reaching her reddened cheek. He stared at his silver metal hand, then down at Yelena’s broken wrist and ran a thumb over her tiny fingers.
Yelena could see the hesitation on the Soldier’s alarmed face. It crossed her mind that maybe he wanted to wipe the tears from her face.
Something Natasha would do, too.
Yelena, thinking of her sister, nodded her head and whispered between sobs, “it’s okay, Soldat.”
The Soldier blinked and tilted his head like before as his hand started to move again. Yelena tried not to flinch this time when cool metal fingers started to brush the stray blonde hair from her face.
“It hurts,” she whimpered.
“I know, but..but you are very brave, yes?” He used his metal thumb to gently wipe Yelena’s tears away. He kept a palm on her cheek as she tried to calm herself down, “you will be okay.”
As he provided comfort, the line between his brows deepened and made the Soldier’s face go from minor alarm to confusion. Something about the expression on the Winter Soldier, someone normally who was so stoic, made Yelena giggle despite the tears in her eyes.
“What?” His voice somehow had gotten more hoarse. He sounded as uncertain as he looked.
“Your face is funny.”
The Winter Soldier blinked at Yelena a couple times. But then his eyes squinted, some of the lines at the corner deepening.
Was he…smiling?
He patted Yelena’s cheek, almost affectionately, and put her hand back in her lap before he stood up to his full height. Yelena had to crane her neck up, she didn’t realize how tall the man was. He held his hand out again and simply said, “come.”
Not as wary as before but still being careful, she put her uninjured hand in the Winter Soldier’s, who slowly lifted her off the ground. His hand was warm, going against what Yelena would think. She took notice of the calluses on his palm, as well as the yellowing bruises and small scabs on his knuckles. He carefully wrapped his hand around hers and started to lead her out of the corner and into the quiet hallway.
He wasn’t looking at her, only forward to the hallway in quiet determination.
“Soldat, where are we going?”
“Doctor,” he replied.
“Oh.”
Their walk went by silently, only the sounds of their steps filling up the hallway. After navigating through the maze of hallways, they made it to the medical office, which Yelena had visited once after she was punished.
A young woman with short, cropped black hair sat there at her desk and looked at papers. She raised her head and was shocked when she saw the Winter Soldier holding hands with Yelena.
“Soldat,” the doctor stood up and Yelena could see the nervous look on her face.
“Her wrist is broken,” the Winter Soldier’s voice was flat, all the gentleness and warmth from before gone, “fix it.”
The doctor's wide eyes went from the cold stare of the Winter Soldier to Yelena’s broken wrist. She nodded and beckoned Yelena to the exam table. The Winter Soldier let go of Yelena’s hand and crossed his arms, standing by the door. When Yelena didn’t move from his side, the Soldier looked at her, eyes and tone softening, “you are scared?” His English was heavily accented and made him sound more raspy. Short and clipped, maybe a little awkward. He still remained as soft spoken and mild mannered as before.
Yelena nodded.
The Winter Soldier put his hand back down and Yelena grabbed it, holding on tightly. They both walked over to the tall exam table. He held his arms out, making a motion like he was picking something up, “it is…it is okay?”
Yelena didn't understand what he was asking. Then, it hit her. He was asking for permission to pick her up. To hold her.
Widows aren’t supposed to care about those types of things. They were made to follow orders and accept punishment when they made a mistake.
The complete opposite of what the Soldier was doing. He was treating her as…a human. A child, even.
She nodded, “da. It’s okay, Soldat.”
The Soldier leaned down, carefully placing his hands under Yelena’s arms, easily lifting her up and sitting her on top of the exam table. Once she was settled, he crouched to be at eye level with Yelena. His right hand held onto hers while the metal hand pointed to the door, “I will be there, okay?"
Yelena got teary again, “you won’t go?”
“No, unless you want me to,” he tilted his head, some hair falling in front of his eyes, “do you want me to leave?”
She shook her head immediately, “d-don’t leave. Please?”
The Winter Soldier nodded, “okay, I will not go.”
Yelena’s grip tightened on the Winter Soldier’s fingers, “you promise?”
He squeezed back gently, “I will stay. Promise.” Then, he stood up and walked towards the door. When he turned back around, he crossed his arms and nodded towards Yelena. She mimicked the motion before turning back to the doctor. Yelena almost forgot she was there because of how quiet she was, her eyes were still fixed on the Winter Soldier. Pure confusion contorted her sharp features, unsure of how to proceed.
“Doctor,” the Winter Soldier growled in Russian, molding himself back into the rigid form of a soldier. His voice was cold again, “her wrist, please.”
The doctor blinked dazedly before she seemingly remembered what she was there to do. She went to the table and started tending to Yelena’s wrist.
The atmosphere was tense, but strangely Yelena knew she was protected. Nothing bad was going to happen to her, not here.
The Winter Soldier would make sure of it.
He stood there by the door with narrowed, icy blue eyes following the doctor’s every move. A guard dog, ready to jump into action if the doctor did something to harm her.
Quickly, the nervous doctor finished putting on the bandages and splint, helping Yelena hop down from the exam table. The Winter Soldier still inspected Yelena’s wrist, gently turning it to make sure it was well taken care of. When he was satisfied, he nodded in the doctor’s direction before opening the door to let Yelena out first.
The bell signaling it was time to return to quarters made her jump. She unconsciously reached for the Winter Soldier’s wrist.
“You are scared again?” he asked. When she nodded, he moved his hand to wrap around hers again.
“Sorry.”
He shook his head, “it is okay to be scared. Does not make you weak.”
Once again, she was getting whiplash from the man before her. The Winter Soldier was nothing like how she imagined. She found warmth when she expected cold indifference. For the first time since she’d been here, someone in authority said she was not weak for being scared.
He didn’t seem so scary anymore, but now she was more curious, “do you get scared, Soldat?”
The Soldier’s brow furrowed, “I…I do not know…”
Yelena scrunched her nose, “how can you not know?”
She heard a horrible whirring echoing in the empty hallway. Her attention went to the direction of the noise and saw the metal hand twitch. She tried not to pull away when the hand made a fist and started shaking slightly. Followed by the sound of metal plates scraping against each other.
It was his arm. His arm was making those awful noises.
“Does it hurt? Your arm?” She asked quietly.
She sucked in a breath and cautiously turned her gaze back to meet the Winter Soldier’s eyes. She didn’t mean to ask that out loud. However, he seemed amused, his eyes becoming crescents again. Maybe he really was smiling under the mask, “you ask a lot of questions, malyshka.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Do not apologize. It is…good. You ask good questions,” his thumb moved in circles across the back of her hand, making her relax a little more.
They kept walking to where the Widows’ quarters were, guards posted at each end of the hallway. They looked confused between Yelena and the man she was with, who glared to make them stand down. Even the girls were stunned at the Winter Soldier’s presence, but none of them expressed fear at his presence. Maybe a bit nervous at least.
He was an intimidating man after all.
Yelena stopped at the room where she slept with Anya and two of the other Widows in training, Victoria and Sasha. She stood in front of the door, not really wanting to face the other girls.
She flinched when she felt a hand on top of her head, lightly ruffling her hair. Then the hand left and so did the Soldier’s presence beside her. She stared down the hallway as the Winter Soldier weaved through the crowd of guards and young girls before he disappeared down the other end of the hallway.
Yelena stood there a bit dazed by what just occurred. Then one of the guards ordered her to get into her room. Finally, she took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Yelena!” Anya hopped down from the top bunk immediately, “are you okay? You weren’t at dinner.”
“Was that the Soldat with you?” Victoria’s sharp voice said, her dark brown eyes boring into Yelena. She was laying on the bottom bunk she shared with Sasha. She always acted better than everyone else. Yelena wasn’t a big fan.
“Um, yeah. It was,” Yelena went past Anya and sat on the bottom bunk.
“What did he want?” Anya sat next to Yelena on the bed.
Yelena shrugged and showed off her bandaged wrist, “he took me to the medic.”
“The medic?” Victoria scoffed.
Sasha perked up from her top bunk, leaning over the edge, “remember a couple months ago Lilli broke her leg during training? I was in the room when it happened. Soldat immediately stopped the exercise and carried her to the doctor.”
“Yeah right, that did happen. Didn’t Lilli say he didn’t leave the medical wing until her leg was taken care of?” Anya asked.
“And he carried her back to her room, too,” Sasha nodded, “I was listening to some of the older girls today. They said sometimes he sits with them if they are crying or sneaks extra snacks to them after dinner.”
“What? No way, those girls were messing with you,” Victoria rolled her eyes and sat up, “y’know what they call him? ‘The Fist of HYDRA’. Why would someone named that be nice to us?”
“It’s true!” Sasha whined.
“Sash, you’re so gullible, this is why you’re weak,” Victoria sneered, “he’s nothing but a weapon, and so are we.”
Sasha’s face flashed with hurt and she leaned back up on her bed, tears brimming in her eyes. Yelena always felt a bit bad for Sasha. She was a year younger than Yelena and clearly having a harder time in the Red Room.
“That’s enough, Victoria,” Yelena glared at the older girl.
Victoria rolled her eyes and scoffed again, “whatever, if you keep trying to be friends with everyone in here, you won’t survive,” she faced the wall and pulled her covers over her.
“Bed time, Widows!” The voice of the lead female guard called out before the lights turned off in their room.
Anya crawled out of Yelena’s bed and climbed up the ladder to her bed. Yelena laid on her back, arms on her chest, thinking of the Winter Soldier.
Yelena wasn’t dumb enough to think this meant anything more than the Red Room looking after one of its assets. Someone probably sent the Winter Soldier to find her because she wasn’t at dinner.
But as intimidating as he was, the Winter Soldier didn’t indicate at any point he was going to punish Yelena for her weakness. He provided a semblance of comfort, as much as he could afford to probably.
No judgement, no punishment, no yelling.
The more she thought, the more questions she had.
What was he like before he became the Winter Soldier, or was he really a robot created by the Soviets? No, he seemed too human for that.
Did he have siblings, too? A family? Someone to go home to?
What made him do those horrible things for HYDRA, yet he was so gentle with her and her other sisters?
Do you get scared?
I do not know.
Who was he under the mask?
“Lena?” Anya whispered.
“Yes, Anya?” Yelena whispered back.
“What was he like? Soldat?”
Yelena pulled her covers over herself and settled in bed, “he was…nice, I guess.”
“Is he really a robot?”
“I…I don’t think so?”
“What about—”
“Anya,” Yelena sighed, burrowing in her blankets, “I’m tired, we should sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay,” Anya sounded a bit disappointed, “good night, Lena.”
“Night, Anya,” Yelena closed her eyes.
New Avengers Tower, 2027
Yelena stared at the ceiling and then turned to where her phone was to check the time. 2:43 a.m. it read. She groaned and decided maybe a walk around the Tower would do her some good.
It had been a couple months since Valentina blindsided the Thunderbolts, now the New Avengers, with their new PR gig. She found it alright, the missions were few and far between now. She liked to work with Bob and even Ava, despite their initial rocky start. John Walker was still annoying and Alexei was…Alexei.
She still harbored conflicted feelings about Alexei. Sure, he came through in the end, but he still sold her and Natasha back to Dreykov’s Black Widow program. She could maybe forgive, she was absolutely positive she would never forget.
Then, there was James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. The now reformed Winter Soldier.
He never gave any indication he remembered the night that now haunted instead of comforted Yelena. In fact, she wasn’t sure if he remembered any of his time in the Red Room. Knowing what she knew now about Bucky’s life under HYDRA’s control and abuse, it wouldn’t be a surprise to her if he’d forgotten. Or wanted to forget. She could understand that.
But it made his behavior that night seem so much stranger to her now.
She never really got around to asking him about it, between him helping Yelena wrangle the new team as well as being emotionally and mentally exhausted after he had yet another phone call with Sam Wilson, aka Captain America. The man seemed just as tired and weary as she felt.
Before she could go down further into this rabbit hole, she put on a sweatshirt and her slippers, sneaking into the dark hallway. Quietly, she made her way to the main living space. Maybe some vodka might help calm her mind and she can finally get some sleep or…
She paused when she saw the back of Bucky’s head as he sat on the large couch. The lights were off and it was only the glow of the city offering any type of illumination. He must’ve sensed someone was behind him because he turned his head to see who it was.
“Oh, Yelena,” he said quietly then furrowed his brow, “hey, you okay?”
“Um…” Yelena felt frozen in her spot.
Bucky tilted his head, “couldn’t sleep either?”
Whoa, that hadn’t changed at all.
“Sorry, I,” why was she apologizing now? “I can go somewhere else. Sorry.”
Bucky laughed a little, “you can sit here, Yelena. The couch is big enough for more than one person. You look like you could use some company right now.”
She frowned, “your company?”
He raised an eyebrow, “got any other options, Belova?”
She huffed before stuffing hands in her pockets. Eventually, she approached the couch, feeling like that six year old girl in the Red Room again. All the while, Bucky’s gaze followed her movement.
Okay, that unnerving stare hadn’t changed either.
She sat on the other end of the couch, putting a lot of distance between herself and Bucky. Probably more than necessary. Removing her slippers, she brought her feet up on the couch, pulling her knees to her chest. She rested her chin in the crevice between and crossed her arms around her shins.
Bucky shook his head and rolled his eyes, before turning back to look out the window, “geez, sit farther away, why don’t ya?”
Yelena also stared out the enormous floor to ceiling windows. It really was a nice view of Manhattan from the tower. Stark picked the perfect place to house superheroes.
“Wanna talk about what’s got you up at 3 am?” Bucky asked. How was his tone still gentle, even after all these years?
She shrugged, “maybe I like being up at 3 am.”
“Alright, alright. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Just figured I’d ask.”
“Well, what has you up at 3 am?” Yelena countered.
“Oh, just the usual…” he said, too casually.
She smirked, “ah, your ‘great past’.”
Bucky laughed again, this time more sharply and cutting through the empty night, “yeah, you could say that.”
They sat in silence. Bucky didn’t give any sign of noticing the restless energy thrumming from Yelena. She looked over and stared at Bucky, who had his legs crossed on the couch. His bed hair was swept back from his face, some of the ends curling on his neck.
He held a mug in his hand. The blue ceramic was decorated with Captain America shields and little wings, making Yelena’s lip twitch a little. He and Wilson seemed to be good friends before…all this. She wondered where they stood now.
Before she could ponder this though, she noticed Bucky wasn’t wearing his vibranium prosthetic
It was strange, this was probably the most unguarded she’d ever seen Bucky. And he didn’t seem uncomfortable with her there, witnessing it.
Would she ever get to that point?
She didn’t realize her staring was that noticeable until Bucky turned his head towards her. His eyes narrowed slightly, then looked at his left shoulder, quietly going, “oh,” then went back to Yelena with a knowing look, “I don’t sleep with the arm. It gets uncomfortable and isn’t good for me anyways.”
He explained it so clinically, as if that was the first thing on Yelena’s mind.
“No, that’s not what I was…” Yelena quickly looked away to the window again, “sorry. Didn't mean to stare.”
“Hm, do you want any tea? I can get more hot water going.”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Okay.”
Yelena’s mind was racing as it usually did at this time. With Bucky here though, she felt memories of that night when he looked after her and similar stories the other Widows shared flash before her eyes.
Of course, who Bucky was then was miles away from who Bucky was now, but she could still see the similarities. The head tilt, his staring, but especially this moment where Bucky was silent company.
It made her skin crawl. How much of him was still in there when—
“Hey, Bucky?” Yelena said, breaking the silence. She rested her cheek on her knees, turning towards the older man.
“What’s up, kid?” Bucky said. Even in the low light, she could see the dark circles under his eyes. But he had a small, encouraging smile that made his eyes crinkle slightly at the sides.
That’s what his smile looked like under the mask, she thought.
Yelena ignored the twisted sense of déjà vu and took a deep breath, “do you…do you remember your time in the Red Room?”
The smile was wiped off Bucky’s face instantaneously. His mouth was slightly open before he closed it and looked down at his mug, “oh…”
Yelena was worried she offended him and he was closing off from the conversation, “I’m sorry, Barnes, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, no, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting…no one’s really asked me before,” Bucky stopped Yelena from rambling, “but I guess it makes sense why you would.”
Yelena’s stomach flipped and she tensed up slightly.
“I do remember. Most of it, some of it still gets a bit fuzzy sometimes, but,” Bucky started, “they kept me around for a long time, even though Dreykov considered me a threat to his operations. I was defective apparently.”
“Defective? How?”
Bucky chuckled bitterly and took a sip of his tea, “it wasn't my fault they weren’t specific with their order.”
“What was your order?”
Something in the older man’s open expression showcased the anguish and deep guilt probably plaguing his mind, “my order was to ‘protect the Widows.”
Yelena felt her breath catch in her throat, “what?”
Bucky turned back to the window, “my job was to not only train the girls, but also protect them while I was in the Red Room. I think they wanted to make sure you kids didn’t escape or hurt each other too badly. I don’t think Dreykov or my handlers considered that the Winter Soldier’s brain, well my brain, would take the order to mean protecting the girls by any means necessary.”
Yelena was too stunned to speak. No wonder the Winter Soldier never hurt any one of them.
He was ordered to protect them.
Yelena felt her world view shifting before her. She remembered the Winter Soldier files mentioning Bucky’s protective instincts. How once the Winter Soldier was ordered to protect, he’d do it without hesitation.
To have something like that used against him was…cruel didn’t seem a strong enough word.
“What did you do, Barnes?” she pressed, “what do you mean by ‘any means necessary’?”
“Happened when I was first in the Red Room. I got into a few altercations with the guards and handlers when they’d be too rough with the girls. I think I got punished every time, but I…I don’t remember ever regretting it…”
Bucky stared out to the city, almost like he was getting lost in the memories of the past.
“But then, I managed to kill a trainer for knocking out one of the girls during some exercise. I remember feeling so…angry when she wasn’t getting up, ” Bucky’s hand tightened on the handle of his mug, “I-I always tried to hold it together when I was in the room with you kids, but that time I couldn’t hold back. They put me in the Chair after it happened. Wiped me clean," his voice rose in bitterness and resentment. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before drinking more tea, swallowing hard, “sorry. You didn’t need to hear that.”
“I asked,” Yelena felt sick, but she needed to hear this. Bucky’s eyes darted to Yelena, like he was asking for permission to continue. She nodded, “go on, Barnes.”
Bucky still seemed hesitant. He quickly turned away, either out of shame or guilt. Maybe some of both, “I don’t know how Dreykov was convinced to keep me around after that. Fucking idiots didn’t even bother to change the order. They just kept their abuse out of my sight after that, but even the Asset knew something was up.”
He placed his mug on the table and placed his hand in his lap, staring blankly. Yelena knew that look.
She had the same one when forced to face herself in the mirror every morning.
“Think we tried to focus on looking out for you all, but I don’t know how much it helped,” Bucky’s voice started to get shaky, “I wish…I should’ve done something…”
All those stories of the infamous Winter Soldier taking wounded girls to the infirmary, sitting with them as they cried, even giving them extra food. They were true. She witnessed it, saw it with her own eyes what it meant to be under the protection of the Winter Soldier…
Was there anyone looking out for him? Of course not, she already knew the answer.
“Were you ever scared…during your time,” she paused, not sure how to finish her question, “you know…”
Bucky snorted and his lips curved into a sardonic grin, “if I’m honest, I was probably scared shitless. At least when they were done with me, I was thrown into cryostasis until the next time they needed me. But…you didn’t get that, did you?”
“That sounds awful, Barnes.”
“Hm,” he merely grunted in response, “maybe.”
How, how could he minimize his pain like that?
He sighed heavily, sinking more into the couch and leaned his head back while closing his eyes. Yelena could see the decades of weariness settle in his body. He sunk into the couch, crushed by the weight of it, “it’s funny, actually. I don’t think the Asset even knew why he was so protective of you all,” Bucky smiled sadly, “but thinking ‘bout it now, a part of him was probably reminded of Rebecca.”
“Who’s Rebecca?” Yelena asked.
“My little sister,” he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, “I loved her so much.”
Yelena thought of Natasha, the leftover love she had left for her beloved older sister felt like a sharp pain in her chest. She could see the same pain written on her companion’s face.
“When we were growing up, I would’ve done anything to make her happy and keep her safe. I think… I think when he looked at all of you, some part of the Winter Soldier…the part that was still her Jamie,” he took a shaky breath, “he wanted to keep you girls safe.”
“What happened to her? Rebecca?”
“She died a while ago, way before Project Insight fell. It was for the best. Her dying thinkin’ I died during the war. She didn’t have to…see me like that,” he licked his lips, “kinda fucked way to think.”
Yelena shrugged, “not really. You’re her older brother, yes? You wanted to protect her.”
“Yeah, I guess…” his voice trailed off, “I still wish I could’ve seen her one more time, though.”
Silence enveloped the room again as the two former brainwashed assassins looked out on the Manhattan skyline again, a really heavy silence. She was too busy processing this information until Bucky hummed, “y’know? You asking me if I was scared, kinda reminds me of this one girl. Someone I met in the Red Room.”
A cold realization washed over Yelena.
“I think about her sometimes and wonder what she’s doing. I hope she’s…fuck, I hope she somehow got out after the Red Room fell and is far away from this shit.”
That’s me, Yelena screamed internally, you’re talking about me.
Bucky wrinkled his nose, trying to remember, “she was so small, too. Had her wrist broken during a training exercise, I think. I wasn’t there when it happened, so I’m not really sure.”
He remembered. Of course, he remembered.
“My handler at the time told me to find her because she wasn’t at dinner,” Bucky continued as if Yelena’s world wasn’t spinning, “I remember searching for a couple hours. I almost missed her.”
Yelena saw Bucky’s sad, but fond smile as he recounted his side of that night, “she looked terrified once I found her, can’t blame the poor kid. I had that fucking muzzle on my face, but once she realized I wasn’t a threat she finally smiled. Said my face looked funny.”
“Your face did look funny that night,” Yelena laughed a little and then froze.
It slipped out before Yelena could stop herself. She bit her lip as she saw Bucky sit up. Clearly taken aback for the second time in their conversation and Yelena could see when the awful realization crossed his mind.
“No, that wasn’t,” Bucky’s voice filled with dread, “Yelena, please tell me that wasn’t you.”
Yelena quickly turned away and felt her face warm up. She couldn’t look at Bucky, not when he had that tone. She heard Bucky get up and sit closer to her on the couch, still keeping a respectable distance. She curled in on herself, even as she felt tears stinging her eyes.
“Yelena,” Bucky’s tone was impossibly soft, but Yelena could hear the raw emotion. A mix of grief and desperation.
“Bucky, don’t,” a tear fell from Yelena’s eye, “please.”
“Yelena,” Bucky repeated, more insistent, “can you…can you look at me? Please?”
Yelena wanted to refuse, but she didn’t know how long this standoff was going to last. And Bucky, his old and stubborn ass, wasn’t going to move until Yelena looked at him.
She blew out a harsh breath and lifted her head towards the ceiling, closing her eyes. She opened them again after a couple seconds before she looked at Bucky, who was about an arms length away now.
He took a hard look at Yelena. She stared back into those calculating eyes, trying to see the little girl from so many years ago. Someone Yelena was far removed from.
It took another minute of silence before recognition flickered in his face and he took a sharp inhale, “it was you, wasn’t it?”
Yelena swallowed hard and nodded.
“I had a feeling we were probably in the Red Room at the same time, but I never thought,” Bucky rubbed his forehead, sounding more distressed, “oh God, Yelena. How old were you?”
“Six,” Yelena's eyes stung, “it was my second time in the Red Room.”
Bucky’s hand stilled and there was a flash of cold anger in his eyes. His tone was hard, “you were only six years old when Alexei sold you out to Dreykov?”
Yelena could only nod before closing her eyes. She couldn’t look at Bucky anymore. Not when he was angry for her.
“You must’ve been so scared, Lena,” Bucky whispered.
Opening up these old wounds hurt. Especially when she felt Bucky’s eyes on her. It hurt, because it wasn’t pity. He could understand. He was where she was. It wasn’t the same, but they were too similar.
Alexei bulldozed over her, saying what she did was good. He didn’t even try to understand what they put her and Natasha through in the Red Room. She gave a couple chances, but it always turned back to him and his dreams and glory days. Sure, he wanted to be better now, but Yelena didn’t feel like talking about it, especially with him.
Then, Natasha and her had too little time to commiserate and talk about what they went through. In a blink of an eye, the only other person who went through the same things that she did and would understand was gone.
She felt alone for so long.
“I was so confused,” Yelena’s started talking before she could stop herself, “I was living with people I thought were my family and then I was told it was a lie and then before I could even…even process what was happening I was thrown into the Red Room and …” she paused, insecurity making her curl more into herself. Maybe Bucky didn’t want to hear this.
“It’s okay, Yelena. Talking about it helps.”
Yelena again, was struck by the confusing nature that was Bucky Barnes. He got a little closer to her and tentatively reached for her shoulder. Yelena nodded and Bucky gently laid a hand on her shoulder as she spoke.
Her shame, her anger, her pain.
Yelena recounted her experience in the Red Room and when she was in the field as a Widow. She felt that she was talking for hours. The abuse, the chemical subjugation, the rage that boiled in her every day since she got out of Dreykov’s control. The years she lost in the Blip and then coming back to learn that her sister died to bring her back.
It was a mess, out of order, a nonlinear narrative even she was having trouble keeping up with. Words spilled out of her, blackened ink splattered across the messy pages of her life as she recounted those awful memories. Whatever came to mind, she talked and talked and talked.
And Bucky was there, quietly attentive and keeping a hand on her, grounding her to the present. Keeping her from getting lost in the turbulent sea of her memories. In the end though, it didn’t matter. Yelena still lost it when she talked about Anya.
“They made me kill her, Bucky,” Yelena choked out, “Anya.”
“You were only a kid. You didn’t pull the trigger.”
“I might as well have,” tears ran down her face and she found it harder to breathe, “she trusted me and I…fuck…”
“Hey, hey,” Bucky started to rub between her shoulder blades, quietly hushing her, “shh, I’m right here, okay? Just breathe, Lena. You’re okay.”
Yelena tried to take a deep breath, but it came out shaky. She closed her eyes tightly and tried again, her breathing getting more harsh. Between Bucky’s calming words and steady hand, she could finally take a breath without it coming out all wheezy. She opened her eyes and glanced at the older man.
It was shocking at first, seeing Bucky Barnes in the state he was. He had fresh tear tracks on his face, his eyes slightly red. His voice came out as a low rasp, still thick with tears, “you okay?”
Some irrational, emotionally exhausted part of Yelena took one look at Bucky’s sad eyes and she couldn’t stop the hysterical laughter from rolling out.
“Are you a sympathetic crier now, Barnes?” She playfully jeered as Bucky removed his hand and put his fingers under his eye.
“Oh, fuck you, Belova,” he shoved her, smiling widely as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Didn’t expect Congressman Barnes to be a softie,” Yelena punched his shoulder.
“Former Congressman Barnes,” Bucky laughed wetly and leaned back on the couch. He stretched his legs out in front of him and planted his feet on the ground, “I could never hold it together when Rebecca cried in front of me. I’m pretty sure she used it against me growing up. Little troublemaker, she was.”
“How’d you hold it together when one of us cried in front of you?” Yelena asked.
“It wouldn’t have helped you all if a brainwashed assassin started to break down, would it?” He spoke in Russian for the next part of his sentence, “and the Asset wasn’t allowed to cry.”
Yelena remembered how many times the handlers told her crying or showing weakness was forbidden. She’d always had trouble not showing her true feelings, always punished for crying in the first year of her Red Room training.
She took in Bucky’s blotchy cheeks and red nose, still sniffing. It kinda made her smile that even he, the former Winter Soldier, seemed to be as much of an open book as she was.
She started to scoot closer to Bucky’s side. She stretched and put her feet on the ground, before leaning her head on Bucky’s shoulder. Without opening his eyes, Bucky’s hand reached up to her hair, “this okay?”
“Yeah,” Yelena nodded, knocking her knee against Bucky’s, “you know, we’d talk about you. Making up stories about who the Soldat was.”
“Yeah, what did you girls say?”
“A lot of us were convinced you were a robot.”
Bucky barked out a laugh, “I mean, not completely off base. I might as well have been.”
Yelena shrugged, “but, we’d also talk about how the Soldat would sometimes look out for us. It…it did help, Bucky.”
Bucky’s hand stilled before he moved it from Yelena’s hair and put it on her shoulder, “did it?”
“Somewhat. You did what you could.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” his voice was tight, “you all deserved so much better, Yelena.”
Yelena leaned her head up, still keeping close to Bucky’s side. She saw a single tear escape his closed lids. She used her thumb to gently wipe it away, like he had so many years ago.
‘I have a great past, so I’m totally fine,’ he had said as soon as he entered Bob’s void room. Yelena didn’t take notice then due to the ensuing chaos, but now she could hear and see how haunted the older man still was by what he’d done.
Do you get scared?
I do not know.
She made sure to hold eye contact with Bucky, “so did you.”
Bucky’s reddened eyes brimmed with more tears, even as he tried to blink them away. His gaze went back up to the ceiling and he took a deep breath through his nose as he closed his eyes tightly.
Yelena decided not to push, at least not tonight. She was at her limit and honestly, she could tell Bucky was, too. There was only so much emotional talk she could do at one time. But she didn’t want to leave the night on a heavy note.
They could both use a small pocket of reprieve, even if it was way past when both of them should be asleep.
Instead, she pulled her legs up and turned her body sideways, leaning more into Bucky’s side. She laid her legs over his lap as she leaned her head on his shoulder again and kept her hands in her lap. Bucky put his arm around Yelena’s shoulders, holding her steady. Once she was comfortable, she asked, “what was your sister like?”
That made Bucky grin, “Becca was always smarter than me. I loved school, but she was the one who was actually good at it. There was one time when…”
They continued trading stories, keeping things light to alleviate the tension of the heavy conversations from earlier.
Yelena felt for the first time since this whole debacle that she could breathe for just a minute. It felt strange, being in the position she was in now. If someone had told a young Yelena she would be cuddling on the couch with the Winter Soldier, she’d probably call bullshit.
She was in the middle of talking about an intense pee-wee soccer match when Bucky’s arm slipped from her shoulders and she heard light snores coming from him. She looked up and saw his head lolling to the side, fast asleep. Yelena rolled her eyes and carefully removed herself from Bucky. She stood up and put her hands on her hips as she stared at the sleeping man.
“Can’t believe you fell asleep on me, old man,” she muttered.
Yelena turned to grab the empty tea mug to go to the kitchen, rinsing out the mug before leaving it in the sink. When she walked back, she saw Bucky hadn’t moved, still asleep and still snoring.
“Hey, Barnes,” Yelena whispered and slowly approached Bucky and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking it, “Barnes. C’mon, you should go to bed.”
Bucky inhaled deeply as his eyes opened, “Lena?”
“Bed, Barnes,” Yelena said flatly.
Bucky leaned his head up and wiped his face. He squinted up at Yelena before slowly standing up. He stretched his arm above his head and let out a groan, “sorry, didn’t realize I fell asleep.”
“You fell asleep at the best part of the story, too” Yelena complained and started to walk back to her room, “very rude actually.”
A tired laugh came from Bucky as he walked beside her, “I’m sorry, you can tell me the rest tomorrow, okay?”
They were silent, nothing but their quiet footsteps filling the hallway. She reached her door and turned around to see Bucky walk past her, patting her shoulder and muttering “night, kid.”
“Wait, Bucky?” Yelena called out.
Bucky stopped walking, slowly turning to face her again, “yeah?”
She hesitated at first. Yelena wasn’t sure if Bucky would be weirded out, but she felt after they cried together, maybe he’d be okay with what she was going to do next.
Yelena strided over to Bucky who stood rather stiffly, bracing himself. She wrapped her arms around his middle and closed her eyes. Bucky tensed more before he wrapped his arm around Yelena’s shoulders, hugging her back. Leaning her head on his chest, she felt more than heard his rapid heartbeat.
“Yelena, are you…” Bucky asked, uncertainly.
“Thanks for tonight, Barnes,” Yelena said quietly in Russian, “and for before.”
She felt Bucky relax as he squeezed her closer and whispered Russian back, “I’m here if you need to talk, okay?”
“Even if it’s just about Walker being annoying?”
Bucky snickered, “especially if it’s about Walker being annoying.”
She pulled away and looked up at Bucky’s face. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he started to ruffle Yelena’s hair.
“Hey!” Yelena complained, trying to swat his hand away.
“See you in the morning, Belova. Sleep well,” Bucky’s Russian was soft and low, smoother than it had been when he was still under HYDRA’s control. She stared as Bucky went down the hallway, opening his own door and disappearing into his room.
When Yelena laid on her bed that night, she was able to close her eyes, feeling just a bit lighter.
While she knew there was never going to be a silver bullet for the emptiness and overwhelming sense of guilt she felt most days, there would at least be these moments she could hang onto. Just a reminder that she wasn’t completely alone.
For the first time in a while, she dreamed of Ohio.