torn & twisted

Ella listened to what the man said about the Winter Soldier, brows furrowed, because once again, this made no sense to her, but what else was new. “So there was danger to the Motherland yesterday?” What even was the Motherland? She had no idea, but judging by Vanya’s name and accent, she assumed he came from Russia, or somewhere in that corner of the world, so maybe that was the motherland to him. The only thing Ella was currently sure of, was the fact that they were in America. She had learned geography, but 99% of that was just a very theoretical concept to her. The world had been restricted to the base and these woods so far, so she couldn’t quite be sure about what else was out there. 

“No. I don’t need more food”, she dismissed his offer, mainly because she shouldn’t trust his attempts at feeding her. For all she knew, he could be trying to poison her, even though he was appearing to be quite harmless. Ella was starting to work up a theory about the whole Winter Soldier thing, but wasn’t sure enough yet to test it out. But maybe if she punched Vanya in the face, he’d turn back into the soldier? A ‘maybe’ wasn’t good enough to try it out though, so she wanted to observe a little longer. “Do you have any other friends like the Soldier? Or is he the only one who comes when you’re not there?” Something was definitely afoot here, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint it. But it was connected, that much Ella was sure of.

YESTERDAY? VANYA FROWNED. Yesterday, he had made delicious chicken potpie, and unless that had meant harm to Mother Russia, he couldn’t remember any danger for the motherland. But then this didn’t mean much. Vanya woke up sometimes, and it was days later, sometimes even weeks. He didn’t know what happened to his body in the meantime. Someone had to dress and feed it because he usually wore some sort of clothes (rather ugly ones, typically, all black and doing nothing for his wonderful thighs or butt) and didn’t feel overly hungry. He doubted that Soldat took care of that. He was the fighter, the warrior, the hatchet man. 

VANYA.  IT  DIDN’T  RING  ANY  BELLS  BUT  at  least  Sam  had  a  name  to  call  this  version  of  Bucky.

Nodding  his  head,  Sam  turned  on  his  heel.  “Sure.  Walks  outside  are  always  nice.”  He  offered  a  grin,  going  to  find  a  warden,  checking  to  see  if  it  was  okay  to  allow  Bucky/Vanya  a  stroll  in  the  garden.  Wilson  would  be  sure  to  keep  a  careful  eye  on  the  guy,  to  make  sure  he  didn’t  sprint  off.

Summer  was  in  the  air,  sunlight  bright  and  warm.  A  soft  breeze  blew,  stroking  Sam’s  hand  and  cheek.  It  brought  a  smile  to  his  lips  as  they  casually  walked  down  one  of  the  gravel  paths  towards  a  man  made  pond.

“So,  Vanya,  why  are  you  here  in  this  place?”  Sam  asked,  carefully.

THE HANDLER DIDN’T SEEM TO MIND THE NAME-THING ONE BIT. Vanya was relieved; seemed like he’d gotten one of the nicer handlers again, which was high-fucking-time. He was sick of these men treating him like garbage even though he had never done anything wrong. He waited until the handler had talked to a white-clad person, then followed him out of the building and down the path, enjoying the fresh air and the lush green bushes and trees lining their way. 

ELLA WAS STILL SUSPICIOUS ABOUT VANYA, but judging by what he just told her, he seemed to understand the problem she faced much better than most other people. She, too, was used to being given orders and her life of autonomy was fairly new. Over the past several months, Ella got more comfortable around the idea of making decisions all by herself, but more often than not, she still longed to go back to the time when others made choices for her. All she could do now was work with what she had been taught and go from there, but out here in the wilderness, she mostly ran on instinct. Everything was different from her old life and although she didn’t necessarily want it back, some things had definitely been easier.

“My superiors always told me what to do as well. Sometimes that was a lot easier. Now I’m supposed to know all the answers, but I don’t. I’m only 12”, she told Vanya with a shrug, biting into her apple again. Granted, she definitely wasn’t like other children her age, but that was a disadvantage in many aspects. Her life experience and knowledge of the real world was limited and even though she was free now, her exposure to the outside was very limited. The woods didn’t teach her a lot in the area of social interactions and general normal living. “Thank you for the apple. I better get going, before the Winter Soldier takes over and finds me again”, she finally said, because she just didn’t trust him to STAY Vanya. Something was very wrong with this man, even though she couldn’t put her finger on it and he appeared to be friendly now. 

VANYA GOT THE SUSPICION THAT THIS WAS NOT A BABY BABA JAGA. Those didn’t have superiors. And could Baba Jagas even be 12 years old? All the fairytales and legends depicted them as old and wrinkled and with warts and humps. They probably came into existence by cursing an ugly frog or something like that, not with sex and pregnancy and giving birth to a baby. But this was a child, a cute one, too; unless the witch cast a spell to turn herself into a kid, of course. He couldn’t fathom why she would do that. To lure him into a trap? So she could beckon him to her little chicken-leg-hut and then eat him? Vanya worried at his lower lip, feeling insecure. The more he looked at her, the more he thought that he didn’t need to be afraid. Perhaps that was a mistake, but he had a soft heart, and he liked children a lot. If this kid needed help (and a child living in the woods all alone definitely did need help), he wanted to be of service.

TRYING  TO  GET  A  GRAPPLE  ON  HIS  EMOTIONS,  Sam  growled  at  his  phone,  squeezing  the  device  before  slipping  it  back  in  his  pocket.  At  least  Steve  had  been  somewhat  forthcoming  with  the  intel  on  Bucky.  Maybe  he  should  go  an  ask  the  person  their  name,  and  see  who  the  Falcon  was  dealing  with  presently.  While  Sam  was  a  councilor,  this  went  a  bit  OUT  of  his  wheel  house.

Calming  his  breath  and  counting  to  three,  Sam  made  sure  his  features  held  a  NEUTRAL  expression  before  going  back  to  the  cafeteria.  Bucky  was  still  there,  thank  God.  At  least  he  wouldn’t  have  to  hunt  for  the  guy.  But  since  they  were  so  far  along  in  this  encounter,  it  would  be  weird  to  ask  his  name.

“Remind  me,”  Sam  said,  trying  to  keep  his  expression  calm.  “What  do  I  call  you?”  A  thick  brow  arched  upwards.  “And  now  that  you’ve  finished  lunch,  what  would  you  like  to  do?”

THE HANDLER CAME BACK, and Vanya smiled at him instantly. His face fell, though, when he was asked for his name. That was a tricky question. Some handlers didn’t like it when he had a name. He was supposed to be a tool, an ends to somebody’s means. Those handlers were usually rude, sometimes downright violent with him. This man here was polite and nice, so far. Maybe he was more like Lukin, who hadn’t minded the name part one bit, quite the contrary: He’d given Vanya some pet names, too. But hadn’t the handler already called him something? A strange word, a silly one, yet Vanya couldn’t remember it anymore...

      “JUST LOOKING AT THE MIODOVNIK but never getting a bite.” Natalia nodded her head at the reply, a smirk still tugged upon her rosy lips. She then laughed softly at the surprised question, looking at Vanya with content, mischief but above all - HONESTY. “You’re hot.” The redhead pointed out “You’re my oldest friend.” She added as she took a step closer to the man and then tugged at the collar of the shirt he wore to make him bend down just the tiniest bit more “You’ve seen me take down men & spill blood - I think having sex won’t be the thing that could ruin our friendship.” Natalia finished before slowly leaning in to steal a small, playfull kiss from the man.

STEVE HAD HALF A MIND TO ASK THE OTHER who was on the short list. It tugged his lips upwards, wondering if Scott and Clint were on that list. But he refrained when the other asked for directions. “It’s been eerily quiet as far a missions,” Rogers mused. “We could go up to the tower and see if anything has pinged the radar. If not, we can spar.”

ELLA WAS VERY SURE THAT NOTHING WAS FINE about the soldier’s head. Something was VERY wrong about him and the explanation made absolutely no sense to a girl who had never learned about cases like him. She just understood that this was all very messed up, but that this…Vanya seemingly had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. Maybe he was a clone? The 12 year old had a lot of questions, but understood that she wouldn’t get any answers from him. That was a case she would have to investigate later on, when he had disappeared. For the moment, they were equally suspicious of each other, but Ella still took the apple from him with a swift movement, because she was starving. The winter had been long and hard in the woods, with little to hunt and spring was only slowly approaching. She still struggled to hunt and there was nothing much edible growing in the woods yet. Fish in the river was her best bet at the moment, but she had to admit that catching them wasn’t one of her better skills.

When he asked about the woods, Ella shrugged slightly, while biting into the apple. “Most of the time”, she admitted, although it was probably time to move on from this place and find a better area to settle down. This part of the forest was definitely too highly frequented at the moment. “I ran away from a very bad place. I’m safer here.” She probably wasn’t, but at least it wasn’t Hydra. In case they were still somewhere out there, they hadn’t found her yet, which was a good sign. “Do you live over at the compound?” Ella nodded towards the path he had come from, all the while continuing to nibble on the apple. It tasted incredible, juicy and flavorful and much better than anything she had eaten in a long while. 

VANYA LOOKED AROUND AGAIN. He was kind of curious and really wanted to see the little hut with the chicken legs all Baba Yagas lived in. From a safe distance, of course, because he didn’t want her to pull him inside and then maybe eat him or cast a spell over him, that would turn him into a rat. When she told him about a very bad place she ran from, his gaze flickered back to her. He didn’t know what a Baba Yaga would consider a bad place, but maybe the other witches had been mean to her? Either way, he felt some sort of pity raising in his chest. He knew a thing or two about bad places, after all. 

With Lukin, it hadn't been so bad. Vanya visited ballet events and could listen to music and he was allowed to use the kitchen. The sex was mostly pleasant. Karpov had been terrible, though. Vanya remembered bloody noses, bruises, constant fear. Pierce had never laid a hand on him, but his words had been poison, his looks scornful, his orders gut-wrenching. Vanya dearly hoped a child didn't have to endure something like that, even if it was a baby Baba Yaga.