Chapter Text
“With the lights out, it's less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us
A mulatto, an albino
A mosquito, my libido
And I forget just why I taste
Oh yeah, I guess it makes me smile
I found it hard, it's hard to find
Oh well, whatever, never mind”
Summer, 1995
Girls screaming, guards yelling, children crying, gunshots in the distance.
These are hardly the sounds any child should be hearing in their life.
Natalia holds Yelena tight against her stomach as the younger girl curls up close on her lap. She runs her hands through her dirty blond hair, gently untangling mattes and plucking pieces of fiber from the strands. It’s them and a group of girls all shoved into a cargo container. She had seen photos of them in her schoolbooks. The other girls around them look just the same. Dirty, scraped and bruised. Their faces are messy with tear tracks cutting clean lines through the debris. They’re all huddled to the walls, clinging to whatever sparse possessions they have. Some have blankets while some have stuffed animals. Some cling to coats while some have nothing at all. Yelena whimpers softly at a particularly loud pop pop of a gun going off outside.
”Не волнуйся, сестра. Я никогда не позволю им причинить тебе боль.”
(“Don't worry, sister. I will never let them hurt you.”)
She’s terrified, but she’ll never admit it. She wants to go home, but she puts on a brave face. What was home anyway when everything had been fabricated in the first place? Did she really believe going back to Alexei and Melina, mom and dad, would have ended up any better? At least there, she had freedom. She had a chance to be wild and free. Ride her bike into the sunset with her friends until the streetlights came on. Climb the jungle gym and push Yelena on the swings. They’ll never have that kind of freedom ever again.
She can hear the bar lock outside the doors begin to jiggle. She tightens her arms around her sisters as they open. Flashlight beams shine into the dark space and illuminate the girls inside. They’re attached to guns. The girls scream in fear. This can’t be happening.
The armed guards pull girls out from inside, yelling orders at them and separating them into groups. There’re dozens of containers filled with girls all being emptied into the open space. She’ll never let Yelena go. She whispers to her; ‘move with me’ as they shuffle out with the other girls. She sees him then, the man from the tar mac. Lights reflect harshly off his glasses as he points them out. The guards move in, grabbing Yelena first. Her screams forever haunt Natalia’s nightmares. She fights against the one grabbing her, screaming profanities and her sister's name. Fingers grip smaller ones until they break apart.
I love you, I’m sorry.
They’re both yelling as girls around them go through the same thing. Siblings taken from each other, friends separated with threats of the muzzle of a gun. This is a nightmare. Dreykov stops in front of her, oversized glasses sliding down his nose as he peers at her. She glares at him with fury and rage.
”Этот особенный.”
(“This one is special.”)
Two guards flank Natalia and take her by both arms. She struggles. It’s pointless. Just like the tears she sheds. She screams into the chaos of the night.
She never sees her little sister again.
Fall, 1999
One, two, three… One, two, three...
The soft sound of tip tip tap, tip tip taps echos off the wooden floor. Light casts through the tall windows littering the walls. The few stained-glass windows in the middle paint the floor with spectacular colors. The headmistress of the ballet class, Madame B., stands to the side and watches over the older girls as they dance through their routine. She oversees the practices. She makes it a point to keep the girls in line. Head up, shoulders high, toes pointed. Younger girls in leotards and tights sit to the side with the slippers on and watch along. Another woman sits at a piano in the corner and plays a song for them to dance to. A classical piece they’ve all become so familiar with. Pointe shoes cut shadow lines through the light as they spin and step gracefully across the floor. Natalia remembers to breathe through her fouetté, eyes trained on one spot as she completes her spin. Her toes pinch, her body aches, her bun is too tight.
It’s only when the music stops and the girls come to rest does she hear the thrum of boot steps along the tiled floor of the foyer. It catches everyone's attention. The odd sound echoing off the usually quiet walls. The doors to the dance hall are closed but she can still see through the windows on the doors. Dark figures in heavy looking vests. Faces obscured by masks. They make their way through in two lines. She counts six. All men. Seven. A woman follows at the end of the lines in the same rig out.
The girls whisper quietly among themselves at the sight, Madame claps her hands aggressively to the air to silence the room. Natalia doesn’t look away. She’s never seen other men outside the few male instructors she has for class. They vary in height and looks and details. They all wear the same outfit, dawn the same masks. Some are tall, some are shorter. There’s a variety of hair colors and styles and lengths. Different eye colors. All their eyes look far gone. There is one who stands out of the crowd, besides the only woman of the group. One of them has what looks like a metal arm. The silver color shimmers soft in the low light of the sconces. She’s instantly moving to the doors to get a better look. Madame claps at her with a hiss of her name. She stops, but still watches.
There’s another man at the front of the group, but he doesn’t look like them. Looks like a solider, dressed like a soldier. She’s seen the uniforms before. The red beret gives it away more than anything. Dreykov emerges from behind on of the staircases in the long hallway with another madame, greeting the man with a boastful laugh.
”Halt.” The man in the beret says forcefully. The group stops dead where their feet fall. It reminds her of trained dogs.
The people behind him, maybe they’re more soldiers?, stare straight ahead. Unflinching, unblinking. Still as the stone statues that dot the gardens or the ones carved and hung on the walls of the dance hall. It’s unsettling and makes the hairs on her arms stand up.
”Mr. Karpov, I take it you had no issue finding the place.” Dreykov’s voice echos loosely around the foyer as he shakes the other mans hand.
”Not at all sir.” Comes the mans, Mr. Karpov, response. “Here are the soldiers we agreed upon. This is the best of the best of The Winter Soldier project. I think you’ll be more than satisfied with their capabilities and what they can do to help you get your girls into proper shape.” He cuts his eyes to the doors then, watches as the other girls scatter into darker spots of the room to hide. Except Natalia.
Dreykov lets out a laugh then, patting the other man on the back with one hand while the other grips his bicep.
”That’s what I like to hear! You know, you all don’t come cheap. I expect my monies worth.” His voice drops low as he stares the other man down. The soldiers eyes snap to Dreykov.
”And you will get it.” Vasily assures the older man, shifting the box he’s had anchored to his hip between both hands. “You just need these.”
Natalia watches as Dreykov’s face splits into a slow grin as he reaches in. That’s the first time she sees it. Red leather and a black star. Multiple books come from the box stacked between his pudgy fingers. His grin grows ever wider.
”Yes. This will do quite nicely.” He puts them back before laughing again. He takes the box from the other man before nodding his head towards the doors to the dance hall. “Come, Come! Come and meet some the girls.”
Natalia back pedals so fast from the door she trips over her pointe shoes and ends up on the floor next to the younger girls as the doors open. She hears Vasily command the soldiers to ‘move’ as they make their way in. Heavy boot falls trail behind the two older men as Dreykov preens when the girls all rise and stand in three lines. The younger girls are in the front with the older ones in the other two lines by height. Natalia slips into the back row carefully to go unnoticed. Just in the space to peek between two of the girls’ arms at the group.
The soldiers branch apart to make a line across the door way. An easy formation for them all to get a good look at the girls and the room before them. The man with the metal arm looks cold and calculated, the only sign of anything going on in his head happens to be when he sweeps his eyes over the lines. He seems to be the first to note the irregularity of the lines. As his eyes sweep back over the older girls, they seem to stop perfectly on Natalia’s hiding spot. Grey eyes meet green for the first time. He makes no notion to call her out, doesn’t even blink. He stares right through the gap into her eyes as if she’s not there at all. It makes goosebumps raise across her skin uncomfortably.
”There is… quite a few.” Vasily glances back to Dreykov.
”Not all of them will make it.” He says nonchalantly to the air. Some girls flinch, the little ones sniffle. “but that is life. How many are there?”
”Seven in total.”
”We will split them between classes. There is more than enough to handle them.” He makes a mental check list.
The girls in the room all straighten at his words. There’s more of them in the building. One hundred or so all together. Most of them are older, but there are a handful of girls under the age of ten. They all come from different backgrounds with different looks, ethnicities, hair styles and eye colors. Some are taller and some are thinner. There’s no discrimination in the red room. Dreykov talks quietly to Mr. Karpov about their plan. The sole female soldier gets called to the front. She’s pretty. Tall and blond with pale green eyes. She’s the only one not to be donning a mask.
”The little ones would benefit from a… matronly figure teaching them.” Dreykov muses to the other man, giving the soldier a once over. She stares firmly at the windows behind the group. “There is maybe… sixteen little ones. That should not be an issue, correct?”
”Hardly an issue.” Vasily agrees with a curt nod.
”As for the older girls, there are eighty four in total, by our last head count. Ehhh, broken down between the six other soldiers…?” He does quick math in his head. “Fourteen to a soldier. Easy enough.”
”Very good, sir.”
The air in the room becomes thick with tension as the other five soldiers start to assess the girls. They do their best not to shuffle or shift under their intense stares. Dreykov takes a moment to look over the group, brows furrowing and pinching in the center until he finds what he’s looking for.
”Ah. Natalia!”
Her whole body goes rigid at the sound of her name. The two girls she’s been ducking behind spare a quick glance back at her before shuffling apart to expose her to the men’s gazes. She resists the urge to visibly swallow, stepping forth as she wills her legs to move again. She feels exposed in her tights and leotard. She takes full steps until she comes to a stop next to Dreykov. She spares him a quick look before finding herself looking over the soldiers again. She resists the urge to rub her arms as the hairs prickle and stand on edge. Vasily steps forward to get a proper look at her.
”This one has much promise.” Dreykov muses softly. He tucks a stray defiant curl back against her head that has escaped from the tight pull of her bun. It takes everything in her being to stay put.
”This one?” The other man questions, hints of doubt laced in his tone.
She glances between the two older men. She throws Mr. Karpov a look sharp enough to cut through rock at the insult. He looks amused, Dreykov just chuckles at them.
”She will be a good test.”
Across the room, The Asset takes a chance to look at the group quietly discussing to themselves. He takes in his handler then the older man he’s speaking to. Addressing him so formally must mean he’s the boss. When Vasily had gathered the group for the new mission (and an interesting one at that. ALL of them were to go for this? It must be high profile.), he had said the assignment was one of the highest importance. The man who they were to meet with was to be treated and looked at with respect. A handler’s handler. He doesn’t quite understand why there’s so many children present though. The one they’re speaking to looks no older than early teenage years. They can’t be their targets… right?
The shorter man, Dreykov, he’s sure is his name, starts calling forth more girls from the line up. Five others join the girl already before him. Something about this, about him, makes something vile twist in the pit of his stomach. ‘You know this isn’t right.’ the American nags him from the back of his mind. He efficiently quarantines him back in the box where he belongs. ’Be quiet, Sergeant.’
”Start with these ones-” Dreykov says. “and your best soldier. We will start sorting girls into their respective classes.”
Vasily turns slightly on his heel to look at the line of soldiers. He makes eye contact with the asset, forcing his spine to straighten.
”Come.” He says, pointing to the spot on the floor next to them.
His feet move without his permission, boots thudding heavily along the nice wood floor. He stands at attention next to his handler, eyes falling quietly to the wall just over the girls head. Natalia, that’s her name…
”This one?” Dreykov raises an eyebrow at him, noticeably staring at the mental arm. The girl is too, except to his disgust, hers' is curiosity. A bright fascination. How is she not scared?
”Is the baseline for the whole operation.”
”Ahhhhh.” The older man hums out. “I’ve heard about this one.”
The Asset keeps his eyes forward, unblinking at the dark wood. He can’t help the faint furrow of his brow as they openly talk about him, or the other part of him. He can just see the girl out of his peripherals staring up at him. The other girls do anything to avert their eyes, not draw attention. He finds her strange. Her attention on him almost makes him want to shudder.
”The American.”
He can feel James kicking at the box. Just a little bit, just enough to be there. He ignores him. He’s gonna get the both of them killed.
”Well, don’t let that deter you.”
”I don’t intend to.” Dreykov turns his attention to the woman by the doors. “Madame, divvy out the girls that are here to the other soldiers. We’ll gather the rest and send them to their respected wardens.”
Wardens. The word makes Natalia shiver faintly at the implications that come with it. They were here to take charge. Become a new form of keeper over them? It made no sense. She knew the staff was more than capable of keeping all of them in line. They had already done so. If these people are here, she thinks, things are going to start getting bad. Dreykov looks back to the soldier, the warden, standing next to Mr. Karpov.
”You, come with me.” He instructs before looking to the six girls he pulled forward from the group. “and you girls as well.” He turns promptly and exits the room.
Mr. Karpov falls into step a step or two behind him, followed by The Asset. The other girls all trail along in a line. Natalia takes a few steps towards the door before she catches sight of the younger girls. Her steps falter then, standing in the doorway of the dance hall.
”These ones have already started their formal fighting.” She hears Dreykov say to Mr. Karpov down the hall. “Once they hit 12, they get both; Formal training as well as weapons.”
He opens the doors to one of the sparring classrooms down the hall, the girls file in obediently. Mr. Karpov steps in to take a look around. The Asset does not. He counts the heads as they pass by, there’s one missing. He turns his attention back down the hall. Of course it’s her. The red head with the strange energy. Natalia? Natalia. He repeats it to memory. She’s standing half out into the hall, but she’s stopped following.
Natalia feels a new sense of guilt well up in her chest. They’re all so young; the youngest girl no older than 4. She has blond hair and big scared eyes even though she’s trying so hard not to be scared. She reminds her so much of Yelena. There’s another ache in her chest as their eyes meet. ‘It’s going to be okay’ she lips to the girl. It seems to calm her just enough to get her to smile. She smiles back.
”Natalia.”
It feels like all her senses light up in that moment, in a strange way. His voice is muted, muffled by the mask he wears over his lower face. When she looks at him again, his sight is as zero’d in on her as hers’ is on him. Her anxiety rises from the pit of her stomach as she notices Dreykov take note of them. He stands with his back against the classroom door to watch how The Asset takes charge. She swallows thickly as he stalks back across the foyer to her. His movements are precise and fluid even if it’s just a stride. When his eyes meet hers again though, they’re colder. His gaze is set hard to hers even if she can’t make out the rest of his facial expression. Like ice. She can almost taste the frigid water on her tongue at the thought, feel the biting hard chill of it against her skin as he grabs her by the back of her bicep. She sees the metal arm up close for the first time. Sees how the plates shift and move as his arm bends or his fingers grip. The low whirr and hiss as the would be muscle flexes. The process gives off a soft metallic smell.
Fear flickers across her face as he overtakes her senses, her space. She can’t stop the flinch when the pressure of his gloved metal hand squeezes her skin. All she can do is follow as he pulls her down the hallway, pointe shoes sliding across tile. She tries her hardest to grab at the hand and pry it from her skin. As if the feeling of it alone gives her frostbite, piercing into her arm through the leather like little daggers.
”You don’t need to pull.” She hisses at him under her breath, fingers still clawing into leather and titanium.
”Then keep up.” His tone is sharp as he shoves her forward into the room.
She does not like him. Not one bit. Doesn’t like this whole thing, this set up. She tries her best to make her glare be as scary as she wants to feel, but he doesn’t even regard it. Just stands next to Mr. Karpov as Dreykov finally shuts the door with the nine of them all currently in the room. “Very good.” she hears the man in the beret speak to the soldier softly. She steps in line with the other girls, wishing that she wasn’t still in her pointe shoes. He stands guard by the door, body blocking where the handle is as the two other men shift around to talk.
”She’s always had a fire to her. She shows much promise.” Dreykov boasts to the other man with sadistic glee.
The normal sparring instructor steps forth from where he had been tucked away in the corner tidying up the space before class. Nikolai, if she remembers correctly. She can’t honestly be bothered to remember the names of the people who make it their job to beat her into submission day in and day out. She can already feel the bruise forming on the back of her arm from the soldier. She hates him even more.
”Alright girls, partner up and start your warm ups.” Nikolai says after greeting the other men, slightly put off by The Assets slate face and cold demeanor.
The girls shifting and starting their sparring practice becomes background noise to the four men in the room. The Asset slowly takes note of each of them; Their fighting styles and coordination. How they hold themselves, how they work with and against each other. ‘What did he do to them?’ James’ voice echos in the back of his mind. For the first time, He can’t help but agree. He focuses his attention back to his handler when the man turns his attention on him.
”This is your new home. Your new space. You are warden to these girls. Memorize their faces and teach them. Use force if needed.” His tone is calm and collected. He can see Natalia tense over his shoulder.
”Yes, sir.” The Asset nods and watches as the handler leaves with the general.
The door audibly clicks behind them when it closes. He’s left in the room with the girls and their former instructor. Nikolai comes over hesitantly to greet him, but his focus is on the six girls currently throwing punches and kicks at each other. An uncomfortable feeling creeps into his being, making his skin crawl under the tight fabric of his uniform.
“I had no idea what the fuck I was doing, they just sort of put me in a room and told me to teach them. I didn’t even know what they’d learned…” James’ voice cuts through the story as he recalls the memory.
“Line up.” He hears his voice call out, stepping out in front of Nikolai.
The girls all stop their blows to look at him before lining up in a straight line in front of him. He takes the moment to survey the six girls in front of him. He knows there’ll be more once the two other men finish their talks. He takes the calm moment to collect his thoughts and get at least a small grasp on the group in front of him. They all look so different, but there’s something eerily similar about them all the same. No child should look as broken down as they do. The American keeps nagging at the back of his mind about how wrong it all is. ’They’re just kids. We can’t do this.’
”Step forward and tell me your name and age. You first.” He turns his attention to the girl at the end of the line.”
She steps forward with shoulders held high and back just too ramrod straight. She’s tall and tan, with brown hair pulled back neatly into a slicked bun. Her eyes are a dark brown and she speaks with authority. She’s trying too hard.
”Nadia. 14.”
He nods to her before she steps back. He has all the girls go through the same thing. Olga, 12. Helene, 13. Lana, 14, Alina, 11. He physically has to force away the shudder that runs down his spine at the last one. His eyes fall back to Natalia. He takes full notice of her now. Takes in her face, her height, the way she stands, the way she looks. Notices the defiant curl has fallen along the side of her face once again. ‘This one has much promise.’ He can hear Dreykov’s words in his head. He stares expectantly as she steps forward, holding his gaze unflinching.
”Natalia. 14.” She blinks up at him, taking the half step back but never breaking eye contact.
It gets under his skin for some reason in the worst way, her outright fire that some would call defiance. He knows she’s the one that’s going to give him trouble. Cause the most headaches, get him in trouble more than anything. He can already feel a migraine starting to pull behind his eyes at the very thought. He takes a step back them, heels of his boots tapping together as he straightens his footwork. He takes one last sweep back and forth over their faces before reaching up and removing the mask from his face. A slow breath slips out at the small bit of freedom. Six sets of eyes blink at him owlishly at the turn of events, though only one continues to stare.
”I expect you all to recognize me and follow my instructions. If you do not, you will be punished. If you do, you will be rewarded.”
The girls on the end, Nadia and Lana, whisper back and forth to themselves near silent. Olga and Helene nod slowly, still refusing to meet his eyes when he looks. Alina, God help him, looks at him with obvious underlying fear.
”When a higher-ranking officer enters, I expect you to come and stand here unless told otherwise.” His voice is firm, bouncing around the space with authority.
”Yes Warden.” Comes the choral response of all the girls. Except her.
“You just… stared?” It’s Steve’s turn to speak up.
”I was 14 and I’d never seen another man in the building besides Dreykov and the instructors. Give me a break, Rogers.”
“Good.” He turns his attention to Nikolai then.
Natalia watches as they speak low about the training they’ve been put through. All of the girls go through the same training. There’s variable tiers as they get older obviously, but the younger girls get the same training the older ones had. There’s points where the lessons cross as a show of what they’ll be learning as they age. It’s all according to Dreykov’s plan. The way he wants their teaching to be done, the way they learn. How they learn, when they learn it. The older girls are much farther along with hand to hand, that was obvious. They had just started leaning into more agility based combat. Ways to maneuver and turn their limbs into more that just things that throw punches and kicks. The eldest three had also started learning more involved combat with weapons. They were to be versatile on all fronts. Learn the weapons, but also become weapons. She hates that he’s continuously calm and collected through the entire thing. Who even IS this guy?
The Asset gives Nikolai a curt nod, turning his attention back to the line.
”Alina, Olga. You two pair up over there.” He points to a spot on the floor, the girls move at his command. “Helene, Lana. You here.” He points to the opposite end. “Nadia, Natalia. Front and center.”
The girls all move to their respected points on cue. Nadia stares down Natalia like she’s a piece of fresh meat. She’s got a few inches on her, that’s for sure. The two girls had been brought in around the same time, Nadia but a month before Natalia. For some reason or another, she hadn’t liked her from the get go. Nat didn’t understand why. Maybe it was the fact that she kept up with her so well, or maybe it was the attention she had got from Dreykov and the other instructors under his word. It wasn’t anything she had control over, yet there was an obvious festering grudge from the other. It wasn’t her choice.
”Position one!” Nikolai calls out. All the girls drop into their readied stances. “Fight!”
The Asset studies each pairing as they fight. The younger two girls throw punches as expected; A good start, but they’re clumsy with their swings. Uncoordinated with their moves. Smaller frames still unsure of the movements needed to connect with the force. He raises a hand for them to stop, ushering them away to sit against the side wall. They scurry away in fear of being reprimanded.
He watches the two girls on the other end. Helene is a year younger than Lana but her skills are there. Lana is by the book, clean jabs and swift movements, but that’s it. It leaves a lot to be desired considering her age. He dismisses them to join the other two girls on the wall.
He finally comes back to Nadia and Natalia. It’s obvious they’re both highly skilled in hand to hand. Nadia throws a punch, Natalia deflects it with her arm. The dull thuds of skin hitting skin only ramp up their need to win, it seems. Punch, punch, duck, weave, kick, punch. They both have fierce, intense looks on their faces. He can see the rivalry between them clear as day. The two of them have something to prove in their own rights, it makes them passionate, keeps them fighting harder than the others. It’s only a matter of time until Nadia becomes cocky. That’s her downfall. Natalia uses her over confidence to bob left, landing a solid kick to her side with her knee. The taller girl gets knocked off balance as a hard gasp escapes her throat. POP! Natalia lands a hard punch to her jaw, knocking her to the floor. She steps quickly to the side of her opponent, keeping her stance framed in case of retaliation.
”Good. That’s enough.” His voice cuts in, both girls startling at the sound; Nadia more than Natalia. “Let her up.”
Nat steps back two steps to give Nadia space. Nadia growls low from her chest, standing careful with a hand over her side. She knows it’s going to leave a bruise, feels guilty for a moment before it passes as the taller girl glares as she moves to sit with the others. Moment over. Bitch.
”Natalia!”
She nearly jumps at her name being spewed out in such an aggressive tone, looking to Nikolai at the same time as the other man. The Asset raises an eyebrow at the other man for his sudden outburst directed towards her. He’s yelling, waving his hand at hers. She looks down and finally notices then. There’s blood running down her middle and ring fingers, the knuckles split open from the impact of the blow. She tucks it behind her quickly as he yells about the mess.
”What do you think you’re doing?” The Asset’s voice drops low then, a sleek tone of dominance and anger coming with it. It makes goosebumps rise over her skin. Nikolai looks startled at his sudden shift in demeanor.
”Drawing blood is messy work. The girls are better than that.” He responds.
”These are my students now. Your shoddy work has left them uncoordinated.” He keeps his voice level, but more anger bleeds into the words as he speaks. “Leave.”
Nikolai’s face reddens with anger as he spews some less than colorful words in his direction, spitting at his feet before storming out of the room. There’s a few giggles that bubble up from the girls against the wall at the display. He shuts them all up with one look. Fear flickers over each of their faces like a rolling wave, worry settling in as the youngest girl curls up tight into a ball. He breaks his gaze then, looking back to her. Her sights are set straight ahead, a quick glance to his before looking to the wall once more. Behind her back, her hand shakes just so slight. She looks calm compared to the others, breathing evening out as she comes down from the adrenaline high the sparring match had ramped up inside her.
This one has much promise.
”You will report any and all injuries to me after your round has finished. If you draw blood, break bone, pull tendons or dislocate. We will be ready to fight in a moment’s notice. No killing or maiming each other. There will be 14 of you here, I intend to have all of you excel.”
”Yes Warden.”
”Good, line up again in two rows.” He makes a motion to the middle of the room before looking back at the red head. “Natalia, come here.”
Her face had previously shown worry; Her brow pinched together, eyes squinted ever so faintly as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She glances up at him when he speaks her name, straightening and relaxing all in the same fluid motion. She was an enigma of a girl if he’d ever seen one.
He made it a thing, whenever he was set out on missions. He was the best at what he did, hands down. No one would ever argue with that and the consistent reports of his successes speak for themselves. He could follow, track, fight and kill better than most, including his fellow soldiers. He followed orders to the point, did what he was told quick and clean without leaving a trace. He would never hurt a child though. He had been known to do a lot of terrible things over the years of being unfrozen, brought back to the front of consciousness to get the job done. Somewhere deep inside though, there was a line he couldn’t cross. He wasn’t sure if it was one of his own making or if it was influenced heavily from the other person living in the shared space in their head, but it was a rule that never got broken. For all purpose, these girls were no longer children, but something deep, deep inside him knew that it wasn’t quite true.
Natalia takes the few quick steps over to stand in front of him. “Yes, Warden?” Her green eyes come back to stare at his.
He moves to take his field pack off from his waist, arms lifting to remove the shoulder strap over his head. She flinches away instinctively. Their eyes meet again as he sets it on the floor. Did she think he was going to hit her? A dull ache starts in his chest at the look she gives him. It… confuses him. She confuses him. She relaxes again as he sets it down, shoulders sagging with relief. He takes the half step forward to stand in her space, taking her hand by the wrist in his right one to examine the damage. He’s got at least a good foot on her, his entire being overshadowing her small frame. Her hands are not that of any normal 14 year old. Besides the bleeding split, cuts and scars dot her fingers and palm, the back of her hand. Most likely from various sizes and styles of knives.
”No more punching with this hand today.” He speaks low to her and her alone.
She gives him a slow nod, watching curiously as he drops to his knees in one smooth motion. He releases her wrist to put all his focus on his bag. He digs through it carefully, making sure not to knock a single thing inside out of its place before procuring a small medical kit. She blinks, confused and bewildered. He plucks a few things from it before setting it on the floor at her feet. Rips open a packet with his teeth. She watches as he proceeds to clean her hand with the newly unwrapped wet wipe, hissing ever so faintly as the alcohol content burns over the fresh wound. He sets the split with a butterfly splint neatly before wrapping her knuckles in a bandage, tucking the end in once he’s satisfied with his work. She can’t look away the entire time, giving her fingers a slow wiggle once he’s done.
”Good. Go find your place.” He dismisses her as he repacks the kit in the bag before standing to throw away the trash.
The door opens as he does and the other 8 chosen girls file into the room, led by one of the other madame’s. He goes through the same thing, looking over each of their faces, getting their names and ages. The door falls shut again behind the madame as she leaves him to it. He files them into the room in the rows they started. Natalia doesn’t notice any of them as she stares at her bandaged hand. It had just been a simple patch job, but it was like being mended with gold leaves in her mind. She doesn’t even notice as Nadia glares at her from the other line a few people down.
“That was the nicest thing anyone had done for me in quite a while.” Natasha recalls quietly, pulling sad noises from both Tony and Steve.
The Asset lines the girls up in two rows of seven, making sure each of the older girls have a younger counterpart across from them. The younger ones stare up at the older girls with worry and curiosity. They look like most of them are in either their training gear or their day clothes. Some of the older girls have already been outfitted in window jump suits.
”The girl across from you is your mentor or student. Her success is your success.” He speaks to the lines.
The older girls all groan, put out looks gracing their faces as they observe the younger ones in front of them. The younger girls whimper in fear of being the reason the older ones get reprimanded. Their little fists clench at their sides as they try to put on a brave face, but their wet eyes tell another tale. The youngest ones just graduated to this new level of fighting. Natalia lets her eyes fall to the girl in front of her. Ana, she recalls hearing her name before. She’s shaking, her little frame nearly vibrating with the underlying fear she feels. She’s trying her hardest not to cry in front of her, bright blue eyes slowly glassing over with tears. She feels terrible. Natalia takes a quick glance to see if the soldier is looking before giving Ana what she hopes is a reassuring smile, nodding her head ever so faintly towards her. She seems to lighten up, even just a little, returning her faint smile.
The older girls all quiet under the look he gives them, shuffling and straightening as they clear their throats like a nervous habit. He looks wholly unimpressed with their behavior, regarding them all with long, slow sweeps of his eyes. He slow circles behind the younger girls to keep his gaze locked on the older ones.
”There will be no groaning. You are soldiers now. Do as you’re told, or I’ll find something else for you to be.” They all tense at his words.
“We were terrified, but… that’s how it was. For months. The girls either picked It up or they got dropped.”
From the darkened doorway, Dreykov watches from the hallway through the glass pane next to the door panel. Madame B observes at his side, glancing at him quietly with an inquiring look. The man’s eyes slowly shift over the scene The Asset has set. A sadistic, undoubting smirk slowly grows across his face once again.
”This will work out just fine.” He whispers before they both retreat back to his office.