Status: Prologue 6/7/2016

Silent Guardians

Chapter Three

It had been around four hours since the soldier left. Anya had only taken a ten minute nap. Her subconscious just wouldn't let her sleep. She had hobbled her way into the bathroom to clean some of the soot and sweat from her face. Taking a moment to look at herself, she looked extremely tired. Dark under eye circles were surrounding her eyes, her hair began getting greasy, and over all she needed a shower. Anya put her hands on the sink. She knew there was nothing she could do at the present moment.

All of a sudden, Anya heard a loud crash followed by heavy footsteps. Anya quickly popped the knife Bucky had given her open and slowly walked out of the bathroom. She kept thinking in her mind that if this was HYDRA, she would most likely perish. She couldn't go up against them in her current condition. As she limped into the living room, she saw the soldier standing there looking to the ground. His fists were clenched at his sides and he just stood still. Anya watched his chest rise and fall quickly which told her he was furious. Anya wasn't going to say anything. He was dangerous right now.

Slowly, Anya walked up to him and put the knife away. She wasn't naive or a fool, but she knew that he needed to calm down, let off some steam. The soldier looked up at her and had a murderous glare in his eyes. Anya wasn't afraid of much, but it surprised her how much hate was in his eyes. She hobbled over to a small table next to the couch . It had a few papers, a glass lamp, and the T.V. remote on it. With the soldiers' eyes on her, she "accidentally" knocked over the glass lamp, shattering it.

Anya knew this was a families cabin, but she had to calm him down somehow. She then knocked over a picture frame, the glass shattering and the wood splitting in half as it fell from the floor. She looked back at the soldier who only smirked slightly and nodded. They both had playful smirks on their faces as he walked towards the couch and with his bare hands, he tore the cushions in half. Anya grabbed the knife he had given her and opened it. She looked around to find her next target. She snickered gently as she threw the knife hitting the LCD T.V. right in the middle of the screen.

The soldier only nodded some with a simper of his own. He walked towards the T.V, took the knife out, and closed it, giving it back to her. Putting both hands on each side of the T.V, Bucky ripped it from the wall and crushed it. His bionic arm whirring and calibrating to go along with the force it took. Together they both trashed the entire cabin. Picture frames were destroyed, the refrigerator was mangled, and the china cabinets were shattered and strewn across the cabin. They both were sitting on the debris filled ground, panting. Anya's plan worked.

Of course, she knew there was probably a better way to calm him instead of going to violence but sometimes you have to get violent to feel better. Anyas' leg had been throbbing since they both destroyed the entire kitchen. She grinned as she looked at their handy work. She wondered what they would do now. The only things that were still standing was the lone cat figurine and medical supplies. As soon as Anya saw it, the soldier threw a piece of debris as it, cracking the body of it.

"My name is James Buchanan Barnes, born in 1925." Anyas' grin faded as she looked over at him. "I had a sister named Rebecca and I was nicknamed Bucky by troops at Camp Leigh." He wasn't really telling her as much as he was saying it so he could remember. He began repeating it over and over. Anya knew if she didn't do something, the cabin would be the next thing demolished.

"My name is Anya Petrova, born in 1990." The soldier had stopped muttering to himself and Anya looked up at the ceiling. "I am an only child and I moved to the U.S. in 2008." Bucky listened to her words and unusual questions seemed to float into his mind. From where did she move from? Why did she move? He shook the thoughts from his mind. It was none of his business and he learned the hard way to stay out of things that didn't concern him. Bucky looked at the destruction that they both caused. He knew as soon as she knocked over the lamp what she was trying to get him to do. It had worked.

"I found out that I had a life before all of this. I knew Steve Rogers, but I am not the same Bucky Barnes any more." Anya felt like the soldier next to her didn't open up much especially since he is free from HYDRA. A sigh left her mouth as she got up, wincing from the pain in her leg.
"You won't be." The soldier only creased his brows.

"How would you know?" The question wasn't threatening and he didn't mean it in a menacing way. It was a genuine question.

"My life story is a little long." Bucky nodded and dropped it. Anya bit her lip and sat back next to him since they both destroyed everything to sit on.

"My father, Andrei Petrova, was part of the KGB. Back in the day, they had a program called the 'Red Room'." In her peripheral she saw him tense. "They would take young girls, around the age of five, and train them to be part of the spy craft." Anya creased her brows as she remembered seeing Madame B, the instructor. "My father was part of the organization of the program. He trained me himself. I had to be the best of the best. If I failed a lesson, it would be ten lashings on my back." Anya could faintly feel the pain on her back and she could feel the scars tighten.

"He trained me very well. When it came to our graduation, we had to shoot a person instead of paper targets. Right between the eyes." She could see her target that she had to kill that day. "They decided since I was the boss' daughter, I had to have the toughest lessons." Anya swallowed some as Bucky listened with all attention on her. He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to go any further, but he was intrigued by her story. "I had to kill a teenager. A boy who hadn't even lived his life." A small tear fell from her right eye.

"Once I squeezed the trigger, it was graduation." Anya stopped there. She couldn't finish. Bucky looked down at the ground and all of the shards of glass on the floor. He didn't know what to say to her. A part of him felt horrible, but another part of him felt empty, emotionless. Anya only had that one tear fall. There was no point in crying over something she can't control and change now. "Any way, when I turned eight-teen I snuck out of the my house and got on the first boat to the U.S." Bucky only sat up against the wall and stared out at the living room. Anya knew there wasn't much to be said on the subject of her life. She didn't really expect much. Bucky stood up and walked into the kitchen shoving all of the debris off the counter and came back to Anya with a hand out for her to take.

"We need to clean your wound and re-bandage it." Anya looked up at him and then to his hand. She gently placed her hand in his and he pulled her up. She hobbled into the kitchen and, gently as possible, she hopped onto the counter. Bucky came back in with the medical supplies and began cleaning the bullet wound.

"I need more answers." Anya only nodded knowing that they would be separating soon. She needed to come up with a plan of what to do. Bucky finished with her leg and put his belt back around her thigh. She didn't think she needed the belt, but she just kept quiet. Bucky went to help her down, but decided to only give her a hand. Anya smiled gently in thanks.

As they walked back into the living room, they then came to the conclusion that they had no where to sleep from their destruction.

It was quiet in the cabin. Seeing as how they destroyed everything, the whirring of the T.V. or refridgerator was muted. Bucky sat at the window that peered out into the woods, thinking.

He couldn't stop thinking of Anya's story. He remembered Madame B. from the 'Red Room'. He, of course, helped train some of her students. He wondered how he hadn't trained Anya. It must have been because her father made her have private lessons. Bucky remembered a time when two students got too close, and one never made it back to another session.



The Winter Soldier stood with an expressionless face towards the children. Some were as small as seven years old, others were older up to fourteen. When Madame B. was busy, it was his job to keep an eye on the children, and he definitely intimidated them.

Madame B. and a man whome the soldier was unfamiliar with were talking, or more so yelling.

"I don't want that child near my daughter, Mrs. B!" The older woman looked at the man in front of her with an unamused expression.

"Mr. Petrova, I can assure you these girls are doing exactly what they need to be doing. If you have a problem with one of them, speak with that child privately. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lesson to teach." Madame B knew how to handle men like this, and it helped to know the soldier would kill any one who tried to even touch her.

"Alright, ladeies, from the top!" The man, Mr. Petrova, snarled at Madame B. and quickly left the studio. The next few days, the soldier was scouting the area for suspicious people who would interrupt the sessions. As he scaled the rooftops, he noticed the same man from before. He was tall with dark brown hair that was slicked back, and his dark eyes. His skin was tanned and he wore the KGB uniform, dark green suit with black shiny shoes. He kept his uniform tight and clean. Infront of him was a scared little girl, no more than eight years old.

The man slowly raised his weapon at the child, and fired.



At the time, Bucky didn't question the action, but now that his old self was trying to pry itself out, he felt awful for not stopping him. He was slowly putting pieces together and figured that the little girl and Anya were friends and her father didn't accept it. Bucky sighed.

So much has happened because of him. Deciding not to dwell on the past too much, Bucky laid down on the only clean spot on the floor, next to Anya, and rest.
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6/7/2016
Edited: 7/28/2016