[ The antiseptic sting of the air pricks at her senses before the rest of her senses clear. Old, stained walls. The hum of an old radiator. A murmur of voices in a language she doesn’t know... Russian, maybe? No, she knows a bit of Russian, and this was something else, something close.
Outside, she can hear the steady thrum of rain. She thinks it would be nice for it to stop - the way it thuds steadily against the roof and the glass of the windows seemed too loud, and oddly in-sync with the hammering in her skull. There's no sign of it stopping, but maybe that's better. If the rain stops, would she be sent on her way? Someone - a nurse? A volunteer? - with tired eyes had pressed a cup of water into her hands an hour ago, speaking in halting English: You were found near the storehouse? No ID? She’d shaken her head then, throat tight with the weight of the unknown. She couldn't remember anything. And yet, somehow she knew that she needed to be cautious, if not afraid. People like her were not safe anywhere, right..?
The door creaks open, and she looks up at the sound of boots heavy on linoleum. Has someone come to send her out already? Her fingers clutch the sheet, chin tilting up despite the protest of her worn muscles under simple but clean bandages. The rain starts to strengthen into a storm. ]
[ Of the many things Victor von Doom likes to brag about, the ‘fact’ that HYDRA never infiltrated Latveria seems to be a favorite. Barnes knows better. It’s why he planned this little operation in the first place, hitting what wasn’t so much a base as an overgrown safehouse near the Latverian border with Sokovia.
He clears the place, sets traps for anyone else who comes looking, and tries to decide what to do with the seemingly civilian medical staff they have on site. There are countless reasons to be mistrustful of anyone on HYDRA’s payroll. On the other, they had taken in a woman found passed out near the attached storehouse several days ago. Seemingly out of the goodness of their hearts.
Barnes doesn’t believe a word of it. The smart thing to do would be to kill the staff and burn the place down in case two more goddamn heads grow in their place. Then the storm rolls in, forcing him to postpone the decision since he can’t exactly hike back to Sokovia. Instead, he orders the staff to alert him the moment the woman wakes up. If she’s in danger here, he won’t leave her behind.
The nurse who fetches him says the patient speaks English. Barnes strides in, still in his tac gear, mask on and metal arm on full display. By now, most of HYDRA knows the Winter Soldier is coming for them. How people react to him is generally a good indicator if they’ve done something they shouldn’t have. ]
[ She tenses at the sight of him, clattering into the room with all the subtlety of a tank. He's imposing with all that armor and that gleaming metal arm. Immediately she's filled with a sense of suspicion, her eyes flicking up and down like she's expecting him to be even more heavily-armed. Something prickles over her skin, an odd crackling that she can't place, and she feels the blanket under her hands crumple under her fingers as she slowly shakes her head. ]
No. But I don't know you.
[ She didn't know anyone. In fact, she didn't know much of anything at all. It's an odd realisation to come to - and suddenly she wonders if he had anything to do with it.
She glances over to the door where the nurse or orderly or whatever they were has retreated, watching them both cautiously. They couldn't be afraid of her — she's aching and exhausted and injured somehow, clearly no threat at all. Whoever these people were, they were afraid of him.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nursed back to health
Outside, she can hear the steady thrum of rain. She thinks it would be nice for it to stop - the way it thuds steadily against the roof and the glass of the windows seemed too loud, and oddly in-sync with the hammering in her skull. There's no sign of it stopping, but maybe that's better. If the rain stops, would she be sent on her way? Someone - a nurse? A volunteer? - with tired eyes had pressed a cup of water into her hands an hour ago, speaking in halting English: You were found near the storehouse? No ID? She’d shaken her head then, throat tight with the weight of the unknown. She couldn't remember anything. And yet, somehow she knew that she needed to be cautious, if not afraid. People like her were not safe anywhere, right..?
The door creaks open, and she looks up at the sound of boots heavy on linoleum. Has someone come to send her out already? Her fingers clutch the sheet, chin tilting up despite the protest of her worn muscles under simple but clean bandages. The rain starts to strengthen into a storm. ]
no subject
He clears the place, sets traps for anyone else who comes looking, and tries to decide what to do with the seemingly civilian medical staff they have on site. There are countless reasons to be mistrustful of anyone on HYDRA’s payroll. On the other, they had taken in a woman found passed out near the attached storehouse several days ago. Seemingly out of the goodness of their hearts.
Barnes doesn’t believe a word of it. The smart thing to do would be to kill the staff and burn the place down in case two more goddamn heads grow in their place. Then the storm rolls in, forcing him to postpone the decision since he can’t exactly hike back to Sokovia. Instead, he orders the staff to alert him the moment the woman wakes up. If she’s in danger here, he won’t leave her behind.
The nurse who fetches him says the patient speaks English. Barnes strides in, still in his tac gear, mask on and metal arm on full display. By now, most of HYDRA knows the Winter Soldier is coming for them. How people react to him is generally a good indicator if they’ve done something they shouldn’t have. ]
Do you know these people?
[ He gestures at the doctor and the nurse. ]
no subject
No. But I don't know you.
[ She didn't know anyone. In fact, she didn't know much of anything at all. It's an odd realisation to come to - and suddenly she wonders if he had anything to do with it.
She glances over to the door where the nurse or orderly or whatever they were has retreated, watching them both cautiously. They couldn't be afraid of her — she's aching and exhausted and injured somehow, clearly no threat at all. Whoever these people were, they were afraid of him.
She looks at him again. ]
Do you always storm into sickrooms armed for war?