Silver Storm ( 1/?)
Summary: While on trip out of state, you were taken by Hydra. You were barely 21 at the time. Hydra took you and turned you into another asset, matching the Winter Soldier’s abilities. They injected you with a serum similar to his, wiped you, and instructed the soldier himself to train you. He was hard on you, but when it was just the two of you he let his walls down. You were each other’s comfort, until the events of D.C when he was sent to kill Captain America. After that day, you never saw him again. You were told he abandoned you, that he was on the other side now. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, but what happens when he comes bursting through the doors of your facility?
Memories are in Italics, bold is readers thoughts *
Pairing: none so far, but Bucky x reader (eventually) , reader x avengers
Warnings: swearing, torture, violence, sadness
Your life consists of three things now: killing, obeying, and training. When you don’t do one of those things, or when you show hesitation, your mind is wiped clean by your handlers. You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been with Hydra. How could you? You’ve been wiped so many times you’re surprised you still know how to fight. Killing, Russian, and taking orders are now burned deeply into your system. Over the last few months, memories have been slipping through the cracks of your mind. You’ve managed to hide your reaction when they appear, not wanting to lose them again from being wiped. With the memories though comes a sharp pain, as if they are forcing their way into your mind. They aren’t ever in order; you’ll remember things from when you were a child and were with your siblings, and the next minute you’ll be reminded of the parties you attended with friends in high school. Having your memories back isn’t all good though; it means your humanity is seeping back in play, making it that much harder when your superiors send you on a kill mission. Sometimes you consider asking to be wiped to make things easier since it doesn’t seem like you’ll ever be free again. Since Winter escaped, the security around you has been tighter. Hydra is too afraid to lose another asset.
Today, a particular memory stands out to you: a memory of the Soldier.
Your body slammed to the ground, as your superiors watched their agents punish you for being hesitant on a training set. If it wasn’t for the super soldier serum swimming in your veins, you’d most likely be dead by now. No human body could or should endure this much pain. By the time they’d finished with you, you were in the fetal position. You could feel that your ribs were cracked, your nose was broken, your arm may have been broken, and your eye was beginning to swell shut. They left you there, laughing as they exited the room. You didn’t know how long it had been, but Winter finally made his way into the room. He gently lifted you into his arms, not saying a word.
You finally ended up in the cell where they kept the both of you. They forced you two to sleep on the concrete floor, supplying an itchy, thin blanket for each of you, and a bucket. Winter was in cryo more than you were, but when he wasn’t, you’d sleep curled into his body with his arms wrapping around you tightly.
He laid you down over one of your spread out blankets. Whimpers left your lips at the hard ground underneath your broken body.
“Shhhhh, you’ll heal soon. Just give it a day or two, Doll.” He moved a piece of hair out of your face and left the room. He managed to come back with a makeshift icepack and towel to clean you up. He stayed with you for hours, trying to distract you from the pain, promising one day you would both be free.
The memories of Winter always hurt you. Neither of you knew much about each other, just whatever he remembers (which wasn’t much). He repeated the name Steve a lot in his sleep, and he remembered that he fought in a war, but not which one or how old he was. He remembered falling off a train, and that’s how he lost his arm and gained his metal one. At night, when the nightmares of his memories from before Hydra and after hit him, you would pull him to you, trying to calm him. You never had memory slips when he was around; they didn’t start happening until after he left you.
You request a training session from your superior. Maybe it’ll ease the pain of the memory away. He agrees, no questions asked. You make your way to the designated gym. It was small but held the proper equipment you need. You go straight for the punching bag. It takes a total of five punches before it flings off the chain and smacks into the wall. Anger is all you feel; the memory of the soldier just makes you feel alone, miserable, and hostile towards Hydra. Overtime you’ve realized Hydra isn’t who they claim to be while they tortured and morphed you into this soldier. They claim to be doing the world a favor, that they were the ‘good guys’. Maybe from their standpoint they are, but from yours? Hell no. You believed in freedom and justice before all this. Well at least you think you did, based on your memories. You still weren’t clear on who you were; you just knew names of people in your memories. The name they used when referring to you still felt odd to you. You only ever remember being called Silver Storm ,which, once you started being able to think for yourself again, sounded so fucking dumb. As you move to hang a new bag from the ceiling, the red alarm lights start blinking along with the shrill sound of the alarm. What the hell?
Your handler burst into the training room. “Silver, the Avengers are breaching our system, suit up.”
At the sound of his voice, you snap into mission mode. You sprint to the gear room, pulling on your tactical black suit. It matches the one Winter use to wear, including the red star on the arm. You pull your hair into the standard braid you wear on missions, and place your mask over your mouth. As soon as you finish filling all your holsters with the proper guns and knives, you slip your comm into your ear.
“Silver Storm, ready to comply,” You announce coldly.
“The Avengers are infiltrating your home, soldier. Show them what they’re dealing with, take them all out.”
You move swiftly through the halls, while you’re told of the Avengers locations through your comms. The closest one to you is Captain America who’s on the roof taking out agents.
“тут ничего не происходит (here goes nothing),” you mumble under your breath. You haven’t had to deal with the Avengers, so you’re not sure what to expect.
You slink your way up the stairs to the roof, readying your gun. You kick down the door, and immediately see your target. You take aim and begin shooting. He deflects the bullets with his shield, then throws it towards you. You tuck and roll, dodging his shield. Why the hell does he have a giant Frisbee?! You switch out your gun for another from one of you holsters. You take aim again, except before you shoot, your gun is shot out of your hand by an arrow. What the hell kinds of weapons do this people have? An arrow, really? You train your focus and leap straight towards Captain America. You start throwing punches, and he barely deflects them. You land four good hits to his abdomen. While he stumbles back, you whip yourself around and wrap your thighs around his neck. You take him down, cutting off his oxygen with the pressure from your thighs. You don’t hold him there long before he manages to flip you off him. You land on your back with a thud.
“Сукин сын (son of a bitch)!”
You pick yourself back up, only to be thrown backward again by him. You reach for your knives then whip them quickly at him. Two of them manage to stick, one in his shoulder and one grazing his side.
It slows him down momentarily. You hear steps behind you, causing you to pull your gun and turn. You’re facing your superior. Oh Shit.
“I see you need help, Soldier. Your training will be changed accordingly after we finish this.” I can feel the pain already. The rest of the Avengers seem to appear out of thin air. You notice it’s not the entire team, only the Captain, Hawkeye, and Falcon. You begin shooting at the Falcon, successfully grounding him. Your superior seems to be in a hand to hand with the Captain, and the other agents are after Hawkeye. You have your target pinned to the ground wrapped between your thighs. As you begin applying more pressure around his neck, you hear a voice that wrecks your concentration.
“Steve, duck!” Winter? You watch as he throws the Frisbee to the Captain, aiding his fight against your superior.
“Well, Winter. Welcome home.” You hear your handle say. In your moment of distraction, Falcon gets the upper hand, knocking you off him, and landing a hard punch to your stomach. You fumble back, mind still in overdrive at the fact he is here. He finally made it out of here, and he’s still fighting?
You abandon Falcon as your target, letting the lower level agents go for him. You move to help against the Captain and Winter. A plan starts swirling around your mind. When you approach the three, you see your superior losing.
“Asset, finish them. Winter is against you now,” he says as he battles Captain America. You turn your gaze to the soldier. A look of recognition and sadness flashing through his eyes. You turn away, glancing back at your handler. The same handler that beat you, abused you, wiped your memory, forced you to kill, and took you away from your family. This is it. He gains the upper hand in his fight, and you pull out your last gun from it’s holster. You turn your gaze back to Winter for a second. If I fail, they will kill me. Is this worth it? Where would I go if I actually succeed? It’s now or never. You take the comm from your ear, smashing it under your boot. Then, before he can move from his spot on top of the man in red, white and blue, you spin yourself over, taking aim and shooting your superior in the back of his head. His body falls limp over the captain.
There is no going back now.