[ She doesn't even know she's in a different year yet, let alone several years ahead. It's not as if they left her a whole lot of information in that small white room, and despite the odd things she had seen on the few minutes she had managed to run around this place, she hasn't really had the time to stop and think why these agents dress so strangely, why the few other people she's crossed look the way they do, why are there things that appear to be some kind of televisions, only with crystal clear images and colours, some of them even projecting odd shapes into thin air.
That's not what she's paying attention to here. Her mind is solely focused on one objective: escape. And when her mind does that, it narrows down on that single objective and attacks it with a perseverance that vastly outweighs her fear, confusion, or even real physical strength. Of course, the two former end up only fuelling her resolve, and as for the latter... well, she is yet to completely understand what HYDRA had done to her, what they had really injected her with.
But right now, she feels that resolve of hers crumble. She would have liked to think that she was always the kind of person that would not let herself get swayed or affected by others, would not let them crawl into her in a way that could break her apart from the inside out - but after Steve died, even perhaps a little before he was yet in danger, she had known that he was that person for her. He was the only one that could have done that to her, and she would have been alright with it.
She would have let him, because Steve Rogers would have never broken her apart.
But he does, now. Even if it's not really him - isn't it, though? The manner in which he addresses the agents sounds all too real to her, and the way he then speaks more softly to her has bile rising up her throat, strings of her memory and her heart being tugged with a visceral intensity.
She only barely registers what he tells her. Her eyes water, her sight blurs, and when she blinks rapidly to focus on him again, tears roll thickly down her face. She feels her insides tense and shake with the effort she makes not to cry, her trembling hands barely managing to keep the gun lifted. Steadily, its weight defeats her, though she doesn't quite let go.
One hand moves up to cover her own mouth, and she can't fight back a soft sob, one that turns into a quiet little cry as she blinks her eyes again, and more tears fall. ] Steve... [ One more second, and she will fall to her knees, all of her strength leaving her. She's been living a nightmare, and she doesn't care now - she doesn't care if this is just a trick, if it's just an illusion, if HYDRA's playing with her head. She just wants it to be real. She wants him to be real. Even if only in her head. ]
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That's not what she's paying attention to here. Her mind is solely focused on one objective: escape. And when her mind does that, it narrows down on that single objective and attacks it with a perseverance that vastly outweighs her fear, confusion, or even real physical strength. Of course, the two former end up only fuelling her resolve, and as for the latter... well, she is yet to completely understand what HYDRA had done to her, what they had really injected her with.
But right now, she feels that resolve of hers crumble. She would have liked to think that she was always the kind of person that would not let herself get swayed or affected by others, would not let them crawl into her in a way that could break her apart from the inside out - but after Steve died, even perhaps a little before he was yet in danger, she had known that he was that person for her. He was the only one that could have done that to her, and she would have been alright with it.
She would have let him, because Steve Rogers would have never broken her apart.
But he does, now. Even if it's not really him - isn't it, though? The manner in which he addresses the agents sounds all too real to her, and the way he then speaks more softly to her has bile rising up her throat, strings of her memory and her heart being tugged with a visceral intensity.
She only barely registers what he tells her. Her eyes water, her sight blurs, and when she blinks rapidly to focus on him again, tears roll thickly down her face. She feels her insides tense and shake with the effort she makes not to cry, her trembling hands barely managing to keep the gun lifted. Steadily, its weight defeats her, though she doesn't quite let go.
One hand moves up to cover her own mouth, and she can't fight back a soft sob, one that turns into a quiet little cry as she blinks her eyes again, and more tears fall. ] Steve... [ One more second, and she will fall to her knees, all of her strength leaving her. She's been living a nightmare, and she doesn't care now - she doesn't care if this is just a trick, if it's just an illusion, if HYDRA's playing with her head. She just wants it to be real. She wants him to be real. Even if only in her head. ]