I'm jostled awake.

Men on either side drag me through a corridor.

Shouts echo down the hall.

Russian shouts.

It takes me a moment to register the language.

I'm so used to speaking in English for the past three days with —

A door opens and the yelling is more distinct as the soldiers drag me inside.

"I authorized for you to bring The Asset back! I did not authorize you using my daughter to do so!"

Commander Ida.

The men at my sides pull me to my feet, keeping their arms firmly around mine to keep me from falling, or escaping. And in front of me —

Is her —

Annie.

A long window pane shows into the next room where six doctors in white lab coats operate on her still body lying on the table.

The Commander turns to me, blocking my view of Annie, and he's holding the red book in his hands.

I swallow thickly.

"What is this?" He asks, holding the book up in front of me.

I stare forward.

"Speak, soldier, now. What is this?"

"Notes," I stiffly reply.

The Commander nods approvingly and flips through the pages. "Have you read them?"

I stare at Annie.

"No."

"Pity. They are very good. But do you know, soldier, what these words mean?" He shows me the book with my list of memories.

"No," I say again.

The Commander frowns at me like I've disappointed him. "Longing."

My body tenses —

The night club with Annie —

I longed for her to stay —

"Interesting," he notes. "And you're sure you don't know — "

"Sir!" A voice thankfully cuts in. "We're losing her! She's lost nearly four pints!"

I look to the room on the other side of the glass and see monitors beeping and doctors scurrying about and Annie —

The Commander moves to the window and presses the intercom on the wall. "Then give her mine," he orders.

"That won't be possible, sir."

"Excuse you?"

"Your blood types are different. I don't know who this is, but this is not your daughter."

Commander Ida's face is rigid and calculating. He turns to me, and I don't dare look him in the eye. I set my gaze forward, avoidingly.

He approaches me again. "Status report," he demands, and the words send shivers down my spine, awakening the Winter Soldier. He's still inside me, lurking in the dark parts of my thoughts, just waiting to be activated. "Tell me everything you know about this woman," he says, stepping closer to my face.

Despite the training that slowly works its way back into my system, I have a choice to make. Either resist giving them what they want and risk Annie's life, or give them what they want and save Annie's life.

There is no choice to make.

I take a breath.

"Doctor Gertrude Ida is an alias for S.S.R. Agent, Anne Warrison. Enlisted in California, stationed in England for communication operations from '44 to '45, second test subject of Doctor Erskine."

"My God," the head surgeon says. "She's a super-soldier."

I watch the Commander look back at Annie, fascinated with the discovery of a new science experiment. But Annie is not a science experiment. I am not a science experiment.

We are made of more.

We're made of our memories.

We're made of dancing in England, laughing under the stars, bidding farewell at the airstrip, declaring our loves and our fears —

We are made of more. More than HYDRA will ever know.

Commander Ida speaks through the com on the wall. "Doctor, is it possible to save her with the blood platelets of another of her kind?"

"I suppose. But Stark hasn't released another batch of the serum — "

"We don't need the serum," the Commander says, looking to me. "Do everything you can to keep her alive."

The surgeon nods. "Yes, sir."

Commander Ida saunters his way toward me with a smug grin. "If I can't save her, then you will."

I don't dare look at him. My eyes are on Annie fighting for her life.

We are not made of more.

Her screams send a jolt of horror thudding through my bones. The sound is a shrill, animalistic cry of raw pain. She screams for them to stop. She cries and she screams and she yells for them to kill her.

That's how I was when I was turned. The serum HYDRA uses is similar to Stark's but the effects the process itself has are… amplified. It may be how they distribute the drug, by injection or, in Annie's case, blood transfusion. If it hurt like hell for me, I can't imagine what it is like for her.

I wait in the dark holding room, sitting in silence as medics visit to draw blood every few hours. The only sound is the hum of the electroshock chair, administering a charge every so often that inhibits my arm.

My mind has become my own again despite the drip line of sedatives that run into the veins. It hardly affects me.

I wish it did.

Annie isn't the only one waiting for the sweet release of death. Anything would be better than hearing her scream.

But she can't die. I won't let her. The blood coursing through her veins, my blood, will save her. Her screams will subside and she'll be whole again. She'll be alive. That's all I want.

I hear a set of footsteps approach the room. And another. And then another until an entire army is moving swiftly through the corridor to my cell.

"Sir, he's unresponsive," a man attempts to explain.

"We're draining him too quickly," says the head surgeon.

The door hisses as the pressurized seal releases, opening the entryway regardless of their pleas. Commander Ida marches inside followed by his advisors and several soldiers all in black gear with rifles pointed at me. Even with my injured shoulder I could take everyone in this room down without breaking a sweat. And yet, I don't. Because I need them. I need them to save her.

Commander Ida grabs a stool, dragging it across the concrete floor, and sits in front of me. He doesn't say anything for a minute. Just sits there, staring, evaluating me.

"We've said before that your work is a gift," he finally says. "Now, it's more true than ever. Your little exploration of our beautiful country delivered an asset right into our lap. HYDRA is grateful of you."

My eyes flit in his direction.

I know I'm being lied to.

I remember the first time I woke up here, weak and on the verge of death, looking up and having Zola say those things to me. Not only once but twice.

And here I am. Again.

They feed me lies so I would accept my fate and now they're going to say those exact same things to Annie.

"How is she?" I ask.

The Commander glances at his advisors. "Stable," he replies. "For now."

The serum in her can only regenerate her cells so quickly.

She needs more.

I hold out my arm, letting them take whatever they need. The Commander flicks his hand and the medical personnel moves to my side.

"Thank you, soldier," he says. "The two of you will be the new fist of HYDRA. Together, you will shape the century."

A man inserts the needle into the crease of my elbow, sickly bruised from the previous extrusions, and begins drawing another vial of blood.

Commander Ida stands from his seat and addresses a technician. "When you're done, wipe him and put him in his cryo. Same with the girl."

"Sir, we can't put her in stasis," the head surgeon argues. "We don't know the effects his blood will have on her."

"And I said put them on ice. We'll deal with the consequences in a few decades." The Commander turns and walks out of the room, followed by his counselors, and leaving me alone with my handlers.

I didn't want this.

I wanted Annie alive, I didn't want her turned into a weapon.

I should have seen this coming. Everything that happened to me, they're doing to her. They're experimenting on her with my blood. They operate on her while she's awake, they keep her alive when she should be dead, all against her will, all because of me —

They're going to destroy her mind, she's going to live the rest of her life not knowing if her thoughts are her own, think only in fragments, all because of me —

The technicians place a hand on my shoulder, pushing me to lay back into the chair.

Panic floods my system —

I have to remember. Without my memory, I'm nothing.

They initiate the system and the clamps grasp my arms with a frigid snap. My chest rises and falls with short, fast breaths and as the headpiece slots in place, I try to hold on.

Hold on to the memories, hold on to Steve, hold on to Annie, hold on to my name —

Pain rips through my skull —

I scream.

It tears at my throat —

Bucky. My name is Bucky.

Annie —

My name is Bucky.

Steve. Friend.

Annie Annie Annie —

Bucky —

My name is Bucky —

My name is —

My name

my na

my

m

"Good morning, soldier."

"готовы соблюдать."