Chapter 1

The redheaded doctor stood in the center of her med lab watching as the agents brought him in. So much about him was unknown, and, once discovered, would no doubt be classified. So, as the only doctor aboard the hellicarrier with high enough security clearance, Nora would be working alone. There were other agents in the room, of course, just in case. At 5'2" with no combat training, she would be helpless if things got ugly. He was sedated, but if whatever had been done to him was anything like what had been done to Steve, those sedatives wouldn't last very long. So while she knew the agents were there for her protection, they put her on edge.

She'd been briefed on what to expect from the injuries, old and new, of the incoming patient, but the reality of it was worse than she'd expected. The physical trauma he must have been through was staggering. The raw line of skin where the metal arm had been attached made her cringe. He lay on the table in front of her, unconscious and riddled with bullet holes, and, though he was the enemy, she felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the Winter Soldier. She knew who he really was, of course. She'd spoken to Steve before they brought him in; Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes, Captain America's one time best friend. She knew more than just what Steve had told her, however. Her grandfather had been a Howling Commando, so she grew up hearing the stories of Captain America and his group. It was what made her want to join SHIELD in the first place. She knew what a good man Bucky had been, and how he'd died. Or, not died, as it turned out. Of course, the man in front of her wasn't exactly Bucky anymore. Brainwashed who knows how many times over, he had no memory of his true self; it was hard at this point to know if he had any memory of any point in his life.

She immediately got to work extracting the various bullets from his arm and torso. It was a miracle that they hadn't done much damage. She was just sewing up the last of the wounds when she saw his eyes begin to flutter open. She tensed up, but continued with the stitches as he opened his eyes fully and turned slightly to look at her. He tensed, and the agents in the room immediately drew their weapons and moved in, stopped only by an abrupt gesture from her to stand down. He hadn't moved, despite the obvious threat, and she saw no need to turn this into a fight unnecessarily.

"We're okay here." She said, calmly returning to her stitching, finishing in silence and cleaning up her surgical tools before turning to regard the soldier. He hadn't moved, hadn't made a sound, but he kept his eyes fixed on her, not sure whether she was friend or foe. He was like a wild animal assessing a threat. Once she'd finally made her way back over to his side, he decided it was safe to take his eyes off her, and turned to regard the stitches now running up his arm and chest. He looked at her questioningly, then back at his healing wounds.

"They don't hurt", he said in confusion, "Why don't they hurt?"

"Well", she responded, a little confused, "I gave you something for the pain".

"Why"?

"Why"? She asked, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise, "I … I don't want you to be in pain".

He considered that for a moment, then went back to simply watching her as she moved about the lab. She picked up a syringe and approached him again.

"I don't know how much longer the pain medication will last, to be honest", she told him gently, "I suspect your body will metabolize the medicine much faster than a normal human, so it will probably start to wear off soon. I'd like to confirm my suspicion, if you'd let me take a blood sample and run some tests".

He tensed again as she held the needle up, eying the agents that still surrounded the room. He knew about tests. He knew about being poked and prodded and experimented on… He began to feel the anger rising up as he noticed the agent by the door trying to look casual as he moved in, the tension in the room increasing, until he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. He relaxed slightly, looking up at her as she waved off the approaching agent.

"Only if you say it's okay, alright James?" she said quietly, squeezing his shoulder and giving him a small smile.

She turned to the agents in the room, suddenly assuming a stance of authority.

"Thank you for your services, gentlemen. I don't think I'll be requiring anything else of you today", she said curtly, turning back to him.

They all hesitated a moment, torn between their training to follow orders (as the senior medical officer on board, not to mention a legacy, she outranked every single one of them), and their distrust of the enemy. She turned and levelled a final stare at them, and they straightened and filed out the room. Her stance relaxed and she pulled a chair over to the table, pushing the button to incline it so that he was now in a sitting position. He regarded her cautiously, not sure what to make of her.

"My name is Nora", she said, extending her hand for him to shake. He simply turned away.

"James…" she said, a sympathetic look flitting across her face "I can only imagine what Hydra has done to you, but I'm not like that. No tests, no experiments, nothing that you don't say is okay."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" he asked somberly, "My name isn't James".

"What is your name"?

"I don't have one". He said it so matter-of-factly, it was heartbreaking.

"You do", she smiled sadly, "You just don't remember".

His brow furrowed, confusion and sadness written all over his face. He extended his good arm toward her.

"Run whatever tests you want", he said, making a fist and closing his eyes.

She picked up the syringe again, quickly and gently drawing a vial of blood, and got to work running the various tests she hoped would provide her with some answers.