She quells the instinct to reach back out to him, because she's not sure he would even feel it, or if it would help if he did.
It would be more to comfort herself, and that's not important right now.
She only listens in silence, her hand working itself into and out of a fist, that fist getter tighter and tighter, her knuckles going white as her face pales to her lips.
He's the one who lived through this nightmare. She only has to listen to every single word. She can fantasize about killing HYDRA agents in revenge for it later.
That statement, in cold flat Russian, curdles her blood. "So now when someone makes you choose," she says, quietly, "that's what you expect? The shock, the pain, getting...wiped?"
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It would be more to comfort herself, and that's not important right now.
She only listens in silence, her hand working itself into and out of a fist, that fist getter tighter and tighter, her knuckles going white as her face pales to her lips.
He's the one who lived through this nightmare. She only has to listen to every single word. She can fantasize about killing HYDRA agents in revenge for it later.
That statement, in cold flat Russian, curdles her blood. "So now when someone makes you choose," she says, quietly, "that's what you expect? The shock, the pain, getting...wiped?"