Chapter Text
The expressionless face of Yelena Belova graced the large screen in the Hydra war room General Dreykov currently occupied. She'd once been a prized possession of his precious Red Room but somehow, she'd broken free from his control and deserted them. She was now their enemy, of the highest order.
He'd sent widows after her, in groups and solo. None had returned, and each of their lives had been snuffed out. Good girls had lost their lives. So now it was time to send in the ultimate soldier.
As the door to the room opened and an ominous figure appeared, Dreykov turned to greet him. "Come in, Soldier," he said in Russian, waving the man in.
A man walked into the room, his footsteps ominous as he moved to the middle of the room. The man placed his hands behind his back, fully focused on the man in front of him.
General Dreykov approached him, gesturing up to the woman on the screen. "This is Yelena Belova," he explained. "She's a defector. We cannot tolerate that. I've sent some of my best after her but none have returned... that's where you come in." He stopped in front of the taller, much more imposing soldier. "You're to terminate her. Quickly and quietly."q."
"Yes sir," he replied back stoically. "Location of target?"
Dreykov sighed. "Last known location was Romania, though she's probably fled there by now," he answered. "You'll have to find her. But you're Hydra's secret weapon. If anyone can get this done, it's you."
"I can track using the last known location." The soldier eyed the photo of the woman, taking in every detail of her face. She might be wise enough to dye her hair, but he could still recognize her.
"Find her, kill her, return back here. Understood?" Dreykov asked sternly.
The soldier looked back at Dreykov, his face void of any emotion. "Affirmative."
"Go," Dreykov ordered, and with that the Soldier turned to begin his mission.
~~~~~~
Yelena Belova was supposed to be the next great widow to emerge from the Red Room. She was swift, ruthless, and efficient. Since she was a child, she killed without question. Her sudden desertion of the cause had taken Hydra by surprise.
Now she ran. She knew they wouldn't give up looking for her. She'd dyed her blonde hair jet black and traveled at night. She knew not to settle for too long. She'd encountered widows along the way and had to take them out. She'd tried to open their eyes, to make them see what she saw now about the Red Room, but never worked.
She'd found a temporary home, now in Bucharest. Yet she couldn't help but feel like she was being followed.
The soldier had been tailing Belova for six long, grueling months. The man had fought his own battles while working to continue the mission. Hydra had never checked in, causing memories of a past life to slowly filter into the soldier's mind, especially as he slept.
Reality was a difficult concept to grasp. Anyone who had been under Hydra's control would struggle with what was true and what wasn't, and Yelena wasn't immune. Her dreams were filled with images of a little blonde girl swinging, running through the woods, playing. She'd never played, as long as she could remember. What were these memories?
Sleep wasn't a luxury she was afforded much of and when she couldn't sleep, she explored. Wandering through the streets of Bucharest, she could touch things that were real.
On the roof of a building, the soldier spotted his target through the scope of his rifle. He took steady breaths as he got a clear shot, able to gun her down and move on. But he couldn't make himself put his finger on the trigger.
He didn't know why, but he could not make himself take the shot he was supposed to make. She didn't look dangerous. She was just shopping, exploring. What made her so bad that they wanted her dead?
Yelena walked along a row of open shops, her fingers trailing over the merchandise. As she walked, she slowly began to get the sense that she was being watched. Her feet stopped and she looked up and around, her green eyes narrowing on everyone around her. Slowly, she began to scan the windows and rooftops, and her feet carried her backwards, away from the shops and back towards her makeshift home.
Perceptive. The soldier watched from the darkness, his rifle now over his back. He found himself wanting to meet her. See what she was like as a person. Who am I as a person?
Yelena took a circuitous route back to the abandoned apartment complex she was calling home. She knew someone was here. Someone had found her. Another widow perhaps? The orders were likely to kill on sight, so she needed to be prepared. She slipped inside her apartment and pulled a bag up from beneath the floor to prepare to run or fight.
Meanwhile back in the small safe house the soldier had acquired, he locked up his rifle and changed out of his tactical gear. He dressed in a pair of sweats and a maroon long sleeved shirt before he tied his hair back, then shook his head. The soldier was fighting... but the man... was winning.
Yelena sat up all night prepared to fight for her life, but the fight never came. Had she been wrong? She was certainly paranoid, and she had every right to be. There was no way the Red Room and Dreykov would let her just walk away. She knew too much. She had meant too much to them. It was impossible to feel safe.
~~~~
The next morning, Yelena realized that in her haste to get back to her living quarters, she hadn't gotten any food for herself. So, with a sigh, she left her things ready to go and ventured back out into the markets.
She walked through the stalls, her eyes every which way as she shopped. She stopped at a fruit stand and picked herself up some fruit and nuts, exchanging some of the money she'd acquired.
When she turned to go the opposite way once more, counting what she had left, she felt as she walked straight into a wall. But as she looked up, a large man with long brown hair, a ball cap, and a long-sleeved shirt stood before her.
"Are you okay?" He asked, reaching out to keep her from falling.
Jesus, he was strong. His grip on her arm was sure as he held her up and as she squared her feet beneath her, she looked up to take in his face. The man looked tired, exhausted even. But he had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. "Yeah, I... I'm fine," she answered. "Sorry, I, uh... I'm surprised I didn't hear you walking up." How was he so stealthy?
"No harm done," he replied, giving her a shy smile, noticing that in the altercation, her bread had been squished. "Do you want me to pay for that?"
She looked down at the bread in her hands for a moment and shook her head. "No, it's fine... squished bread is the least of my worries," she replied, waving it off. "Sorry again," she added, taking a step back to move around him.
"It's alright," he replied, hoping he didn't look too off-putting to her. "H-have a good day."
Yelena gave him a once over again as she took a few steps away from him. Something about those eyes... she'd seen them before. She turned back around and met those eyes once again. "Have we... met before?" she asked curiously.
The man blinked. Have we? "I... I don't know. My memory isn't the greatest."
"Mine either..." she replied, chewing on the inside of her lip as she tried to place him. It was those eyes. "You just... your eyes are familiar..."
He gave her a soft smile. "You look familiar too," he admitted.
Her green eyes focused on the lines of his face, scanning every wrinkle and fleck. She hadn't heard his voice before, of that much, she was sure. He hadn't been a mark before, he was still breathing. There were no survivors when Yelena left a mission. "Are you... from around here?" she asked, gesturing around them.
"No," he shook his head. "Just traveling. Exploring."
She nodded in reply. "Hmm... me too." She took another few steps back, watching him as she did. Why did this man intrigue her so much? She took in the strength of his frame. He was lean but muscular. And wearing gloves? Her eyes lingered there for a moment before she looked back up to his eyes. "Well... safe travels. It's dangerous out here."
"Agreed," he replied. "Be safe, yourself."
A hint of a smirk started on her features, and she nodded as she backed away from him. "I can take care of myself," she assured him. Just in case he did mean her any kind of ill will... it was a subtle warning.
The man nodded, his blue eyes tracking her every move. "I know." The sentence came out automatically like it was something they'd always said to each other.
The response stopped her in her tracks. I know. It was two words, but they washed over her like deja vu. Her mouth went dry. She believed him. And if he knew she could take care of herself... he knew who she was. "You know who I am," she said in flawless Russian.
"I know of you," he replied. "We've never met... not that I remember," he replied back, his Russian perfect.
Russian. Likely Hydra. She didn't exist to the rest of the world. She only existed within the walls of the Red Room. "Are you here to kill me?" she asked directly.
It was a split-second decision to answer her. "No."
Could she believe him? She couldn't trust anyone. "But they sent you to kill me?" she asked, making sure to keep space between the two of them in case she needed to take off. "Why wouldn't you follow your orders?"
"I... I couldn't," he whispered. "I didn't want to hurt you. Didn't want to kill you... so I didn't."
"You... didn't want to?" Since when did wanting to have anything to do it with? She'd never wanted to kill any of the hundreds of victims she'd left in her wake. She just... couldn't question it before now. "You could... stop yourself?"
The man rubbed the back of his neck, feeling suddenly anxious. "I'm fighting it..."
She knew that feeling. That clawing at the back of her mind to finish the mission while her consciousness made a different choice. "It's the mind control... it's deep," she replied, rubbing her temples lightly. She looked around at the market surrounding them. "We should get out of the street."
Looking around with her, he swallowed thickly but nodded. He didn't like crowded spaces, and more people were flocking to the market quickly. "Do you have a place to go?"
This could be her undoing. She'd survived this long all by herself, and now she was considering bringing someone fighting the urge to kill her into her space. She'd need to keep her guard up, but the lost look in his eyes told her he wasn't pretending. "Follow me," she said with a nod, turning to head for her temporary home.
With a deep breath, the man lowered his hat closer to his face and followed behind the black-haired woman. He followed her down the street and across the block, his shoulders tense.
Her steps were deliberate and focused as she led the way to her hideout. They walked through less populous parts of the city until she pushed open the door to an apartment building. She led him up sets of stairs before she opened a door to an abandoned apartment. It was dark and dingy with barely any furnishings but a small table, two chairs and a dirty mattress on the floor.
"You do your homework," he said quietly as she shut the door behind him. The apartment was dusty, but it wasn't unlivable.
"It's how I've managed to stay alive this long," she said stoically. She walked past him into the apartment and to the fridge that she was able to rig enough to work. She pulled out two bottles of water before tossing him one. "Now, let's start with who the hell you are, since you seem to be familiar with me."
After quickly finishing off the bottle of water, he licked his lips, feeling the liquid hit his empty stomach. "I... don't know who I am."
"But you're Hydra... they gave you a mission. So, you're someone to Hydra," she pointed out, taking a few steps toward him to take in his features again. As she scanned him, her eyes once again landed on his gloved hands. "Why are you wearing gloves?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. Sure, it could be to prevent fingerprints, but it could be hiding something else.
He shrugged. "I always wear them. One side of me is... heavier."
Yelena furrowed her brows. "Heavier?" she asked curiously. "What does that mean?"
"I'm... off balance a little. I compensate for the heavier side of my upper body."
"What, are you like, metal or-" she started, jokingly at first. But it was then as if a switch went off in her head. She looked him up and down again before nodding towards his gloves. "Take them off."
He stepped back, fear showing in his eyes at her sudden mood change. "Wh-why?"
Yelena took a step in towards him. "Because there's only one person I know who has a metal half," she told him, her own voice betraying and wavering a bit. If he was who she thought... she was in more danger than she'd realized.
Stepping against the door, he felt cornered. Caged. "I... maybe I should go."
"Wait, I..." she said, stopping her forward progress. He looked... afraid. He didn't look like the man she knew him to be. "You're... you're the Winter Soldier, aren't you?"
Hearing the name made terror roll down his spine. He shut his eyes and shook his head. "I... I don't want to be."
Confirmation made her own fear shoot through her body, but she fought the instinct to run. They'd sent the Winter Soldier after her. He was the only one who stood a good chance of killing her. Yet the man in front of her didn't have the same cold, blank eyes as the Soldier.
Slowly she took steps towards him again and extended her hand to him. "You don't have to be," she told him.
He eyed her warily, ready to run back out of the door behind him. His heartbeat quickened, making him breathe harder. "I..."
"Stop, just breathe," she told him patiently. She was familiar with what he was feeling. Panic. She'd never considered it until now that the Winter Soldier might be... a person. He was always used as a weapon before, but just like she'd been brainwashed, it was likely he had been too. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Staring at her outstretched hand, his own shook. "C-can I have a little space?" He asked, his voice just a whisper. "I... I won't go."
Yelena watched him carefully, keenly aware of how skilled he was if he felt he needed to escape. She pulled her hand back and took several steps away from him, dropping her hands to her sides non-threateningly. "You've been out of cryo too long..."
"Six months," he nodded. "Been keeping a tally in my notebook."
"They probably weren't expecting it to take six months for you to find me," she murmured in reply. "Memories are coming back, aren't they? It's confusing... to know what's real and what's not."
He nodded, leaning back against the door of the apartment. "I don't even know my name."
"It'll come back... sometimes slowly, sometimes all in a rush," she explained, jumping up onto the counter to sit. She heaved a sigh as she smoothed her hands over her face. "They're tracking you... which means now they're tracking me."
"I haven't seen any Hydra in six months," he replied. "No status checks or anything."
Yelena shook her head. "There's got to be a tracking chip inside of you somewhere. Mine was in my thigh," she told him, gesturing to where she'd cut the small silver chip out of her leg.
He blinked, staring at the small scar. "I don't know... in my arm maybe?"
"The metal one?" she asked, raising her brows. "Shit... don't know how we'd get it out of there. Can't exactly cut into it."
"I don't know anywhere else they would have put it," he admitted.
She heaved a sigh, chewing on her lip in thought as she was known to do. "Does it... open?" she asked curiously. It was a cybernetic arm, there had to be some kind of control panel, right? "But... if we were able to pull it out, they'd probably know in a few moments and come immediately."
"I've seen them... do stuff to it," he answered. "There's a panel for the hardware... a cut off..." he squinted, trying to remember.
Yelena nodded as he spoke, her eyes focused on his clothed arms. "It's your left side, right?" she asked. "I remember... why you look so familiar now. We have met before."
He gulped and nodded. "W-we have?"
She nodded, a somber expression on her face. "We've fought before... in the Red Room." She could remember it well now. "The Winter Soldier was used to train us, the widows."
Blanching, he rested back against the door once more, looking down towards the dirty wood floor. "I'm sorry."
She shook her head as he apologized. "Stop, just... don't do that. Don't apologize for what Hydra made you do," she told him tersely. "You were following orders, and you couldn't question them. Neither could we."
"I still feel like I am," he replied quietly.
The weight of his guilt sat heavy in her chest. It was palpable in the room. It was almost stifling. "You'll get yourself recaptured or killed thinking like that," she told him wisely, beyond her years.
"I don't know how else to feel at the moment," he admitted.
"Lucky for you, I'm not the one on the mission to kill you," she replied with a sarcastic smirk. "But we're just hoping Hydra doesn't check in. That means we need to be prepared to fight and run at all times until we figure out a way to get that tracker out of you."
The man furrowed his brows in confusion. "You're... helping me?"
Yelena chewed on her lip as she nodded. "Yes," she answered, albeit reluctantly. "You're... me, six months ago. Except I knew my name... or at least the one they gave me."
"I... thank you," he said softly. Slowly, he removed the ball cap from his head, revealing his dirty brown hair pulled back in a bun.
Sliding down off of the counter, she made her way to the fridge and pulled out another water for him. "There's some food, if you're hungry too," she told him as she tossed him the second bottle of water.
He easily caught it with his human hand and opened the water before downing it. "I can't remember having real food..."
"It takes getting used to," she said as she pulled off a chunk of bread for herself. "The gruel they feed us in the Red Room is most of what I've eaten my entire life. Except on missions."
"I was given IVs..." he murmured. "Some shitty drink mix..."
"I'm sure being in and out of cryo made things interesting for nutrition," she mused, leaning back against the counter as she ate. "You're a ghost story, you know... the mysterious Winter Soldier. They used to tell us stories about you to scare us as children. You were our boogeyman."
The man scoffed. "Of course they did."
"It worked. Kept us in line... mostly," she said, shrugging with one shoulder. "I was always a bit more troublesome... guess they should have predicted I'd run."
He turned his head to look out of the window, seeing that the sun was beginning to get low. "If you want me to go... I can..."
Yelena looked up from her bread and thought as she swallowed. He was being tracked, and he was with her. But right now, he was the big bad thing coming for her and at least for now, he seemed to be off mission. "Are you gonna kill me if I sleep?" she asked candidly.
"No," he replied simply. "I'm in control... I hardly sleep as it is," he added.
"Me too," she agreed. She tried to get herself a few hours a night so that she could keep her wits about her, but it didn't always happen. "You can stay, if you want. Right now, you're the one hunting me so knowing where you are is a good thing," she told him. "Plus... another set of excellent ears to hear Hydra footsteps approaching."
He nodded as he eyed the door again that stood beside her. "Do you have running water?"
Yelena nodded. "I wouldn't drink it, but it works for showers and cleaning," she told him.
"Would you care if I showered?"
"Go ahead," she replied, gesturing towards the bathroom door. "There's a towel in there. Sorry, there's... only one. I didn't expect guests."
He shrugged as he slowly stood, favoring his left knee. "I don't mind... I have a pair of clothes in my backpack."
She narrowed her eyes on him as he moved. "You alright?" she asked, nodding towards his knee.
"It'll heal eventually," he replied gruffly. "Twisted it a couple missions ago."
"Must've tweaked it bad for you to still be hurting like that. Don't you heal quickly?" she asked, admittedly a little curious.
He nodded. "Normally."
"I do too.... not as fast as a super soldier, but faster than normal," she shared. She had no idea what he knew about the Widows, if anything at all.
"I haven't had the chance to look at it," he replied. "So, I don't know how bad it is."
"I can look at it when you're out of the shower," she offered. "Maybe we just need to brace it for a little while."
He nodded as he eyed the bathroom. "I'll... be back out," he replied gruffly before going into the room and shutting the door behind him.
Yelena watched him disappear behind the door and her eyes held the closed door for a few long moments. The Winter Soldier had found her... only, had he? It seemed like someone else entirely had found her.
The man she looked at, watched, and listened to, was not the same man that had trained her. That man was brutal and ruthless and had no emotion. Yet this man showed every emotion he felt, clear as day. To her anyway.
She was still getting used to emotions. She hadn't felt anything since she was six years old. That had been beaten and manipulated out of her by the Red Room. Only now was she starting to learn what it was to feel.
While he showered, Yelena went through the task of locking up for the night. She set traps by the doors and windows just in case she didn't hear someone approaching and she settled into one of the two chairs at a small, round kitchen table.
When the door clicked, unlocking, then opened, Yelena was greeted with the large man in a pair of boxers and a long-sleeved Henley. The first thing she noticed was the large black bruise on the side of his knee.
She made a face, making a sound. "What did you do to it? Get crushed or something?" she asked, waving him over to the adjacent chair.
"I... can't remember." He walked over to her, the limp more noticeable now. He sat with a slight wince, happy to take the weight off.
Yelena leaned in, narrowing her pale green eyes on the injury. "Are you walking around on a broken knee?" she asked, glancing up at him before she got up and went to the makeshift first aid kit she had.
"Could be," he shrugged. "It's been one mission after another lately."
She pursed her lips as she went through the kit, but ultimately, she began to undo her belt. "I'll have to set it," she told him, turning to approach him again. "Here," she added, handing the belt out to him. "You can bite this for the pain."
"This isn't going to be good, huh?" He questioned as he took the belt in his hand.
"It's probably been trying to set since you broke it. So yeah... it's going to suck," she affirmed with a honest shrug. She pulled her chair in closer to him so she could take his knee between her hands. She looked up at him. "Do not punch me."
He watched as she gently gripped his knee on both sides. After a deep breath, he nodded as he doubled the belt and put it between his teeth.
Yelena looked down at his knee again and took a bracing breath to summon her strength before she snapped his knee into place, closing her eyes as she heard him cry out.
Tears ran down his cheeks as he panted for air. His knee was already swelling. "Fuck," he groaned as he removed the belt from his mouth.
"I'm sorry," she told him softly, a gentleness in her voice that she didn't typically possess. "I'll go out and get some ice. You'll need it for now."
"Need something to... brace it with," he grunted. His whole leg ached from his toes to his hip.
"Hang on," Yelena said, thinking quickly. "Give me the belt." She took it from him and wrapped it around his knee until she could pull it tightly and set the bone.
Hissing loudly, he grunted, holding in a cry of pain. "Oh... fuck."
"I'm done, it's set," she assured him, taking her hands off of his knee and placing them in her lap. "It'll throb like hell for a while but at least it won't heal wrong."
"Th-thank you," he breathed. Wincing harshly, he tried to sit back in the chair. "I can't move right now."
"You'll have to ride it out," she told him with a sigh. "I think I have a one-shot pain killer if you want it. The Red Room gives them to us in case we get hurt in the field."
He shook his head as he tried to get comfortable. "No. Don't waste anything on me."
She nodded faintly. She was happy to keep the painkiller for later; one of them might really need it. "It's here, if you change your mind," she said with a sigh. "So... is there anything you do remember about yourself?"
"I..." he squeezed his eyes shut as he did his best to remember. Flashes of red, white, and blue. A sniper rifle. A train. Snow. Walking in formation among other men. "I was in the army."
"US army?" she asked, crossing her arms loosely across her chest. "You don't have a Russian accent so it likely wasn't Russia's army."
He nodded as he opened his eyes again. "US."
"Huh... so how did the Russians get a hold of you?" she mused, leaning back in her seat. "The Winter Soldier has been around for ages..."
"That... I don't know," he answered.
Yelena chewed on her lip as she took a deep breath. "The US Army is a wide net to start with, but... I suppose it's a place to start," she said with a shrug.
"I guess," he replied, staring down at his badly swollen knee.
She puffed out her cheeks and pushed herself up out of her chair. "You need ice. I'll be back," she said, going to the kitchen and grabbing a gun from under the counter. She tucked it into her waist before her hand checked her thigh for her knife.
"Will you be alright? It's getting dark," he asked.
A small smirk slid across her face in spite of their circumstances. "I'll be fine," she assured him. She could take care of herself better than most.
He nodded and tried to relax back in the chair he sat in. "Okay."
Yelena exited the apartment and made her way directly to the corner store. She bought a bag of ice before returning a circuitous route to the apartment, locking up behind her.
Once she entered the apartment again, she reset the traps before she made a smaller bag of ice for the soldier's knee. "Here," she said, handing it to him before she went back to the kitchen to put the gun back.
"Thanks," he replied as he placed the wrapped bag on his knee, hissing softly.
"That should help a little bit at least," she said, loosely crossing her arms as she leaned her hip against the counter. "We should think of our next steps... if you found me, we should probably move on."
"And go where?" He asked, curiously. Anything to distract him from the pain sounded good to him.
"You ever been to Madripoor?" she asked, raising her brows. "It's the hub for the dark underground. We could get ID's, supplies, anything we need to keep ahead of Hydra."
"No, I haven't," he replied. "Not that I recall anyway."
"I can get jobs there, too. Bounty hunting. Make some cash," she told him, working out the plan in her head. "We'll have to lay low a few days though until your knee heals up."
He nodded as he rubbed his thigh, trying to ease the ache. "I'd only slow you down right now."
"And we can't have that," she said, shaking her head. "I'm only hoping I can live to regret helping you out."
Scoffing, the large man rolled his eyes. He lifted the towel from around his neck and wrung out his hair, a habit that he automatically did. "I guess we'll find out."
The faintest hint of a smirk appeared in her lip as she turned her eyes to him. "Do you still remember how to fight? Or is this full-on amnesia?" she asked curiously.
"Oh, I can fight," he replied. "I can damn well fight."
"Good," she said with a sure nod. "Because if Hydra shows up, we'll need to... I'm not going back there."
"Me either..."
Her pale green eyes held his form and slowly nodded. "Okay," she said in agreement. "Then you heal up and we'll get moving. I... only have one mattress but I don't sleep much so you can feel free to use it."
He nodded, but didn't move. "We can make a better plan in the morning. For now... I think rest is in order."
She laughed a little in reply. "Like either of us are able to do much of that," she murmured, though she knew he could hear her. "You know... before I escaped, I'd never slept alone," she told him, unsure why but... she hadn't had anyone to talk to since she left the Red Room.
"I was always alone. Solitary," he replied simply.
She'd actually wondered what it was like to be alone. She'd been watched and controlled for as long as she could remember. "We all slept in one large room," she told him, thinking of her sisters still there. "Handcuffed to our beds."
He watched her, noting her curled posture. "I was locked in a room with barely a cot and a toilet in a corner. Or I was in cryo sleep. No other option unless I was on a mission."
"We'll let them do a lot to us when we can't question them," she said in a low, almost growl.
Sighing softly, he turned and looked out of the window as it began to rain. "I don't want to go back. Ever."
"Are you ready to die for that decision?" she asked honestly, a darkness in her tone. But that was the reality of their situation.
His eyes spoke volumes as he stared back at her. "Yes."
Yelena didn't shy away from his gaze. "So am I," she replied. Her eyes dropped to the counter at her side. "If they do catch me... kill me."
Swallowing hard, he could see that the black-haired woman meant it. "Making a pact?"
Turning again to find his eyes, she took a few steps toward him and extended her hand. "If they capture one of us... the other will kill them."
Eyeing her hand, he took a deep breath. Slowly, he reached out with his human hand and shook hers in a tight grip. "Okay."
She shook his hand in return, nodding surely. "It's a deal," she said. "Now... let's just hope we can outsmart those bastards and never have to follow through."