October 7th, 2003

THE OLD MAN SWIFTLY WALKED DOWN
the dimly lit corridor, the weight of the baby cradled in his arms like a burden he couldn't wait to unload. Number Seven, a new addition to the ranks of the numbered children, was ready to join her peers in their bleak existence.

Approaching a nondescript door, the old man fumbled with the keys, his hands trembling with anticipation. Behind this door lay the living quarters of the other numbered children, from Zero to Six, each one a silent testament to the cruelty of their captors.

With a click, the door swung open, revealing the spartan room within. Seven pairs of eyes turned towards him, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and resignation. Two of the children lay on their cots, their weary bodies already succumbing to exhaustion.

Suppressing the urge to hurl insults at the children, the old man beckoned to Zero, the eldest among them. "Zero, now," he commanded, his voice tinged with impatience.

Zero wasted no time in obeying, her steps quick and precise as she approached the old man. With a grimace, he thrust the bundle into her arms, his words dripping with malice. "It better not die," he spat before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him with a resounding thud.

As the children breathed a collective sigh of relief, they gathered around Zero, their curiosity piqued by the new arrival. "What is it?" Four asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

"It's a baby," Zero replied, her voice soft as she cradled the bundle in her arms. "A girl, I think."

One, standing beside her, eagerly reached out to take a closer look. "Let me hold her," he said, his voice tinged with excitement.

But Zero shook her head, her gaze falling on Six, the youngest among them. "Let Six hold her," she suggested, kneeling down to the tiny girl's level.

Six stared up at her with wide eyes, her expression a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. "Hold your arms out, love," Zero instructed gently, placing the baby carefully in her grasp.

Six complied, her small arms trembling slightly under the weight of the infant. "Don't drop her," Zero cautioned, hovering nearby just in case.

As Six looked down at the baby in her arms, a look of uncertainty crossed her face. "Zero, I think I'm scared of babies," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zero couldn't help but chuckle at her innocence, remembering her own fears when she was just a child. "Oh, hush, you were once one too; I remember, I held you," she said reassuringly.

"Ew!" Six exclaimed, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust, eliciting laughter from her older siblings.

Present time

SEVEN SAT IN HER small room—all rooms—that's been the only thing she's known for a year. Never leaving, never talking. She pretended she was mute, so she didn't have to speak to the old man.

Seven's world was a quiet one, a silent symphony of muted sounds and vibrations that danced across her half-deaf ears. It was a constant struggle to navigate a world that expected her to hear, the guards' harsh words falling on deaf ears and met with confusion and fear.

As the door to her cell creaked open, Seven's heart leaped into her throat, her senses on high alert as she strained to make out the figures that loomed in the doorway. The sight of the guards and the old man sent a shiver down her spine, her pulse quickening with apprehension.

Summoning all the courage she could muster, Seven squared her shoulders and fixed the old man with a steely gaze, determined not to show any sign of weakness. "Seven," he called out to her, his voice carrying a cold edge that made her blood run cold.

Focusing intently on his lips, Seven strained to catch every word, her heart hammering in her chest as she awaited his command. "We're moving you; get ready," the old man declared, his tone devoid of any warmth or compassion.

With a nod, Seven forced herself to comply, her mind racing with questions and uncertainty. Was she being moved to another cell? Or perhaps to meet the mysterious man with the metal arm she had glimpsed on occasion? She couldn't be sure, but she knew that whatever awaited her, she would face it with the same resilience that had carried her through countless trials before.

As the guards ushered her out of the cell, Seven felt a surge of panic rise within her, her frail body lifted off the ground by the firm grip of their hands. Her feet dangled below her, unable to find purchase on the cold stone floor, as she was carried away into the unknown abyss that awaited her beyond the confines of her prison cell.

The cold air brushed against Seven's exposed stomach as her shirt rode up slightly, sending a shiver down her spine as she was forcibly dragged out of the safety of her cell. Panic clawed at her chest, her heart pounding with fear as she thrashed and kicked against the iron grip of the guards.

"NO! Leave me alone!" she screamed, her voice strained and muffled by her partial deafness, the words tumbling from her lips in a desperate plea for freedom.

But the guards paid her cries no heed, their faces stoic masks of indifference as they continued to manhandle her towards the ominous door that loomed before them. "So you can talk," one of the guards scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt.

Seven's struggles only intensified as they approached the door, her nails digging into the flesh of the guards' arms as she fought tooth and nail to break free from their grasp. With a harsh shove, one of the guards dropped her unceremoniously to the ground, while the other jerked her upright with brutal force.

Tears streamed down Seven's cheeks, mingling with the grime and dirt that coated her face as she sobbed uncontrollably. The guard's callous actions left her bruised and battered, her small frame trembling with fear and exhaustion.

As the door swung open, Seven's heart sank like a stone in her chest, knowing that whatever lay beyond its threshold spelled only more suffering and despair. With a rough push, she was thrown into the room, her hands and knees scraping against the unforgiving stone floor as she slid to a stop.

Alone in the dimly lit room, Seven huddled in the corner, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she tried to compose herself. But her efforts were in vain as a cold sensation brushed against her arm, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Calm down," a voice said, barely audible above the pounding of her own heartbeat. Seven recoiled instinctively, her eyes wide with fear as she struggled to make out the figure standing before her.

"Stop," the voice commanded, its tone firm but not unkind. Seven's breath caught in her throat as she looked up to see the figure of a man, his features obscured by the dim light. For a moment, she hesitated, unsure of what to do next.

The dimly lit room was suffused with tension as Bucky, his metal arm gleaming faintly in the dim light, jerked Seven upright, pulling her towards him in a protective gesture. The fear in his eyes was palpable, his grip on her arm firm yet strangely tender as they both turned to face the door, their hearts pounding in unison.

As the door swung open with a creak of protest, they tensed, bracing themselves for the appearance of the old man, whose presence loomed over them like a dark cloud. But instead of the expected confrontation, the old man's voice cut through the silence, dripping with mockery and disdain.

"Calm yourself, Soldat," he sneered, his tone laced with derision as he tossed two small objects to the ground at their feet. The plastic hearing aids clattered against the stone floor, their presence a stark reminder of Seven's partial deafness.

With a hesitant nod, Bucky bent down to retrieve the hearing aids, his movements careful and deliberate as he approached Seven. She stood frozen, her eyes wide with apprehension as he gently grasped the side of her face with his metal arm, a cold shiver running down her spine at the touch.

With practiced precision, Bucky inserted the hearing aids into Seven's ears, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the coldness of his metal appendage. As the devices clicked into place, Seven's world was flooded with sound for the first time in her life, a cacophony of voices and noises that both startled and overwhelmed her.

"Great, Soldat, now it will finally be able to listen," the old man remarked, his voice dripping with satisfaction. Seven blinked, her mind reeling as she struggled to make sense of the sudden influx of auditory stimuli.

Turning to face Seven, the old man addressed her with an air of authority. "Seven, this is your papa; half your DNA is his," he explained, his words falling on deaf ears as Seven struggled to comprehend the concept of DNA.

But the old man's next words cut through the confusion like a knife, sending a chill down Bucky's spine. "You disobey us; we kill her, no hesitation," he declared, his threat hanging in the air like a dark cloud.

With a grim nod, Bucky understood the gravity of the situation. The old man's words were not to be taken lightly, and the safety of Seven rested squarely on his shoulders.

As the old man departed, leaving them alone in the dimly lit room, Bucky turned to Seven, his expression softened with concern. "You can hear?" he asked, his voice gentle yet tinged with uncertainty.

Seven nodded slowly, her eyes searching his face for reassurance. "Does that mean my ears work?"

Bucky's heart clenched at her innocent question, his resolve strengthening as he met her gaze. "Yes," he replied softly, his voice steady. "Then yes, I hear you now," Seven affirmed, her voice tinged with a hint of wonder as she processed the newfound sensation of sound.

THE NEXT FEW DAYS, Soldat didn't have a mission, despite what the old man said about getting a mission prepared for him. Seven and Soldat had been sharing a cot, no blanket.

Soldat would cuddle with her, holding her as tight as he could, trying his very best to keep her warm, and himself just a little bit. He also held her tight to assure her that no one would come in and take her from him while he was sleeping.

"Sev," That was the nickname Soldat has given her and what she answered when he called her.

Seven looked up at her papa, her face innocent. "Papa?" She said this, responding to the sudden call of her name. Soldat smiled. The only thing he truly had in the place was her, and it was really all he needed.

His smile faded as he spoke. "I have a mission." He began.

Seven's face fell, and tears quickly bubbled up in her permanently worried blue eyes. "What...?" She spoke, her voice almost torn.

"Sev—"

"You're going to leave me with them!" She stood up. "Papa! Your going to leave me?"

Soldat kneeled down and gripped onto both of her shoulders. "Seven, it's a mission; I have to do it to make sure you stay safe." He told her.

Seven stared up at him, broken. Though they had only been around each other for a short time, he was so gentle with her, so kind, that she felt sort of safe with him. Now that he was leaving, she wouldn't be safe, not from the others.

"Seven," Soldat said, waiting for a response.

"Papa, I'm scared; please don't go." Seven said, her voice tinier than usual.

Soldat huffed; he felt terrible. He was about to say something but was stopped by the feeling of arms wrapping around his neck in something that felt so distant. A hug? Seven was hugging him. He had felt the feeling before, but he can't remember when.

He hugged back; he didn't know how he knew to, but he did. He held her tight but made sure not to squeeze her too tight where she felt uncomfortable. "Papa has a mission, and I promise I will get back as fast as I can." He told her, still engulfed in the hug.

He was the first to pull away. "I have a mission, Sev, and I must complete it."

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