[The conflict grew to a hideous swell like waves battering against the rocky shoals, but the rocks were coming apart, his foundation was falling into the waves that ate them up greedily, triumphantly.The rest would give way, but he would fight because he had to, because without the foundation that had been so deeply buried inside of him, what was he? What would he become?
Nothing. He had no memories. He couldn't build himself from what was the past because it no longer existed for him. HYDRA had put so much inside of him, had built him up from scratch, destroyed him many times just to build up again and again. There was nothing left behind but the Soldier. There were no memories to fill the void that was opening up as his programming warred against the idea that not being part of HYDRA was possible.
He swayed where he sat, frozen in this internalized moment that was still unfolding even as Rumlow slid closer, and his metal fist did indeed clench but around his beer glass, shattering it and washing the amber liquid across the table and against his lap. He barely felt it, but he did release the glass shards to the table.
Rumlow's punctuated words blasted through his brain, rattling around, settling in place and then flitting off again. His mouth opened, hung there for a few moments and then closed again because his brain had jammed. He didn't wince, but he experienced pain at the upheaval that was happening inside of his head, but Rumlow's words were a warm coating to the shattering pieces of his world.]
You're... leaving me to this... Hell, aren't you? The Fist of HYDRA must have a handler...
no subject
Nothing. He had no memories. He couldn't build himself from what was the past because it no longer existed for him. HYDRA had put so much inside of him, had built him up from scratch, destroyed him many times just to build up again and again. There was nothing left behind but the Soldier. There were no memories to fill the void that was opening up as his programming warred against the idea that not being part of HYDRA was possible.
He swayed where he sat, frozen in this internalized moment that was still unfolding even as Rumlow slid closer, and his metal fist did indeed clench but around his beer glass, shattering it and washing the amber liquid across the table and against his lap. He barely felt it, but he did release the glass shards to the table.
Rumlow's punctuated words blasted through his brain, rattling around, settling in place and then flitting off again. His mouth opened, hung there for a few moments and then closed again because his brain had jammed. He didn't wince, but he experienced pain at the upheaval that was happening inside of his head, but Rumlow's words were a warm coating to the shattering pieces of his world.]
You're... leaving me to this... Hell, aren't you? The Fist of HYDRA must have a handler...