"Shadows settle on the place, that you left
Our minds are troubled by the emptiness
Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time
From the perfect start to the finish line"

"Youth" -Daughter

                Ophelia ran.

                She didn't know where she was going, but she ran because he life depended upon it. Through the tall Siberian pines, gripping onto them when she needed to pull herself out of the ever deepening snow, she ran with her heart hammering in her chest. With a single gun in her hand, she wondered if she might have to use it on herself. 

             Being captured by HYDRA now, the thought of it sent a chill down her spine that was deeper set than the chill from the snow around her. Trained to fear them but obey them, it terrified her to think what they might do now that she was deliberately disobeying them, and she had broken through to their perfect soldier. Glancing back to see if Bucky had even moved, she saw nothing but whiteness with black tree trunks here and there. At this point, there was no hope that he would come with her, but she desperately wished he would have changed his mind, and would be running with her. 

              Such a young, childish hope that he would come with her. And an even more pitiful hope that she would make it more than a few hundred meters before she was caught. HYDRA was already there; the fight between Ophelia and the Winter Soldier had kept them in one spot long enough for HYDRA to locate them. They couldn't afford to risk losing the Winter Soldier, and they couldn't afford to have Ophelia escape. They had something worse in store for her now that she had survived their twisted little game. 

            The dart that hit her in the back of the neck was painful, but nothing compared to what would come next. As the consciousness began to leave her body and she fell to the snow, still trying to crawl away, her last thought was of how much it was going to hurt when they brought her back and cleared her mind alongside Bucky's. But she feared more for him than her own life, for the first time, she had someone to care about. 

                "Target has been acquired, what is your status with the Winter Soldier?" She heard someone say in Russian, and she felt hands tuck underneath her arms and begin to drag her through the snow. Icy cold snow started to creep underneath her shirt and burn her lower back. 

                A voice through a walkie-talkie came back, "Target was not hostile; he came willingly."

                "But he was no longer under our control."

                "I'm not questioning it. We let him off our chain too damn early."

                "He'll need hours of treatment now," the man said it as if it was simply an inconvenience. "HYDRA can't afford these mistakes; she almost got away."

                "He let her go."

                "He is faulty. She is a weakness of his."

                "They hardly know each other..."

                "Prisoners will feel for anyone on their side." The man's breathing increased as he dragged Ophelia and propped her into the Snow-Cat. "Do we keep her?"

                "We have to break him. We have to use her."

                 "She does have her usefulness..." He regarded her only for a second, before turning on the engine. Ophelia was barely clinging on to consciousness, and all she wanted to do was protest, to fight back, but she was compromised. There was nothing she could have said or done to change what had happened, or what was to happen. 

                "Alright, might as well put them on ice once they have been cleared. With Red Skull gone and Zola captured, they think HYDRA is non-existent. We cannot allow them to know we exist."

                "HYDRA must prevail."

                "Hail HYDRA."

                "Hail HYDRA."

***

                Back at the base, when Ophelia finally awoke feeling stiff and sore, she found herself in a familiar cell that she had spent so many years in. Leaning against the concrete wall she sighed heavily and hung her head down as she tried to recall and comprehend everything she had endured up until now. The drug that they had dosed her with was making her groggy, but at least she was awake and coherent enough to know what had happened. She had been so close to escaping, but she never had a chance. Not when they first dropped her there, not when she ripped out her tracking device, not even when she got Bucky to come back to some version of himself. HYDRA had safeguards at all times, and if they were going to test out their new soldier, they had to ensure all targets were accounted for.

                Chilled to the bone, every part of her body stiff and sore, Ophelia wished that she were dead. Given that she wasn't dead yet, it meant that HYDRA had much more in store for her. She had overheard their words about needing her, using her. The torture was only going to continue, and that torture was going to be used against Bucky. 

               Despite being here her whole life, inexperienced in the ways of humanity, she had learned a lot from the days she had spent with Bucky. Mostly about herself; she was able to accept that she deserved better, but was also aware she would never receive better. Her eyes shut tight for just a moment but jolted open when she heard an unfamiliar noise across her small cell. Focusing on the figure only a few feet away from her, she allowed her eyes adjust with ease to the darkness; the familiar face of James Buchanan Barnes was directly across from her. The flickering hall lights gave an unsettling, dangerous feeling, and she wondered if maybe she was staring at the Winter Soldier. 

                "O..." he said carefully through cracked lips.

                "Bucky." She smiled, overjoyed that it was him, letting these feelings get between her rational thinking. She should have wondered why he was there, what HYDRA was doing putting them in a cell together. She should have known it was simply a ploy to make it worse when they tore them apart, but she was simply shocked and thankful to see him. 

               Shifting where he sat, the man came to a stand and then he walked up to her. Crouching in front of her, he pressed his real hand to her cheek; they had shared a kiss out in the snow after he had tracked her down and they had fought. Something about it at the time felt right; though it was all under terrible circumstances, that had been Ophelia's first kiss. 

                She had a few bruises, and his thumb traced them gently, as if to apologize for causing them. A pained looked in his eyes showed his remorse, and how apologetic he was not only for what he had done under command of HYDRA, but for what both of them knew was coming. She recalled that he had not fought against HYDRA when they found him, as heard through the walkie-talkie. Bucky's hand traced over her cheek bone, the tingle of pain and the warm sensation of human touch made Ophelia shiver. Her eyelids covered her big green eyes as she turned her lips towards Bucky's palm, inhaling his scent, wishing she could say something but she knew not what to say. She tried to remember his scent, his voice, his breathing pattern. To burn the memory of him into her mind, but she didn't have enough time.

               "Why didn't you try to stop them?" she asked. "You could have been free."

                Bucky almost laughed, but there was a dark edge to it. He thought about his words for a few moments, though time was ticking. "Because I knew you wouldn't be. I thought about what they might do to you... It would be worse if I had fought."

                He was right, and she had never once in her life had someone think of her well being before, not like this. No one regarded her as human, and she didn't entirely know how to feel about Bucky sacrificing himself so that her pain might be slightly lesser. She kissed his palm, and then turned to look at him. 

              About to speak, to thank him for what he had done even though it made her feel something strange inside, she realized that their time was up. Recalling what the HYDRA officer who had captured her had said, she knew that the only reason they had been thrown in the same cell was to make them have a glimpse of hope. Hope was worse than knowing there was no way out, she was beginning to realize. 

            When she spotted the guards coming towards her, the mechanical locks hissing, she shuffled to the back of her cell. Bucky rose to a stand and stood like a statue in place not willing to budge and blocking their way to her. It took three men to bring Bucky down, and Ophelia could see that he was fighting the urge to protect her. Though he had already showed he cared too much about her, he had to resist showing any more to HYDRA. The remaining guard yanked her arm and pulled her through her cell. Though on a better day she was stronger than him and could overpower him, she knew it would be useless in this state. She would never be free from HYDRA.

                As she walked barefoot down the cold concrete floor, she knew exactly where she was headed; the gallows. She had been there hundreds of times before in her life; the electrical shocks left painful memories of the room and the hallways that lead there. Everything about the base was evil, but Ophelia held her ground as she walked into the room. They were not going to kill her, she knew that much for sure. But there were many worse things than death, and she learned what one of those things was as they placed Bucky in the chair instead of her. Her shaking body gave away her false appearance of bravery, and it worsened as they began to strap Bucky down, and he sat there, still as possible. He knew what was coming, but he remained silent and obedient for her sake.

                "No," she growled, rushing towards him only to be yanked back like a dog on a leash. She dropped to her knees, a firm hand on her shoulder holding her down as she dropped her head. Her brown hair swung over her eyes.

                "Stay still," the man snarled at her, grabbing her hair and yanking her head back so she had to watch Bucky. "You get to watch. Light it up."

                The device whirred to life, and the static echoed in the small room. As Bucky's brain began to fry, he screamed through the rubber mouth piece. Both his hands were gripping the edge of the chair, but he was tied down to prevent him from moving too much. Despite every muscle in his body clenching to fight the pain, his eyes were wide open and looking right at Ophelia. He was staring through her, trying to tell her that he was sorry. But she felt as though he were blaming her for his current situation. It her mistake for calling him Bucky, it was her mistake for reminding him that he promised to get her out of here, it was her mistake for stopping him from killing her. Now he was being punished, and part of her punishment would be watching him lose all memory of her, and his past. Her eyes watered, but she fought back the tears, not letting HYDRA have that. They would not bring her down to that level, they would not see her break today, or ever. 

                But as he continued to stare at her, she saw that he was not staring at her with vengeance or hatred, not even distrust. His blue eyes suggested that he was desperately trying to tell her something else. Something that would run deeper than the hatred and evil that surrounded her. She didn't know what it was, but it would help her survive the following days. The feeling lit something inside of her, even though the rest of her felt dead. But a small spark can create a forest fire, she would learn that later in her life.

                Bucky's screamed caused Ophelia more pain than the electric shock that she would receive only a few minutes later. They pulled his limp body from the chair and took him away, and Ophelia saw nothing in his eyes once again. She lowered her head in a small defeat, but she felt that spark burning inside of her, and it gave her the feeling of hope. Realizing that a sort of growl was coming out of her mouth with each exhalation, she felt a rage burning within her. However, she did not fight when she was shoved into the chair, locked in and strapped down. The metal device clamped down over her matted and damp hair. She could smell the electrical scent from Bucky's procedure, and she knew that it would feel like hours before it was done. She held on to the look that Bucky had given her only moments ago; she clung to that hope and knew one day, she might be able to get away from this. 

                The shock began, and Ophelia had never endured it to this level before. Instead of short bursts, the electricity flowed freely, with no boundaries to abide to. She felt as if she were being turned into candle wax, her brain melting, memories fading. The pain was excruciating and she screamed through the mouth piece, her nails dug into the soft flesh of her hands. Her mind clung to the moment her and Bucky shared before, when they had been alone in the cell, it was the only thing that she could think of, but it was slowly fading from her memory.  She tried to hold on to every moment that felt like indulgence, and each of them had been with Bucky. Each one slipped away, second by second.

                Nothing lingered behind when it was over.

                "Put them on ice," someone said.