Prolonged missions were always your least favorite, most of the times Hydra didn’t even provide a pot to piss in. Just some weapons and a plan on what to do. And when the missions spanned months the conditions got worse. You were too blind to see that this deprivation on missions was a tactic used by Hydra to keep you coming back. Even if it were just for nasty protein pills and IVs.

This mission was local, just off the outskirts of Siberia where a small family had stumbled across the Hydra base. Witnesses were bad, Hydra doesn’t like witnesses. So within a few days you and the solider were deployed. He was tired, overworked and clearly running on fumes and the threat of a beating worse than the one they’d given him before the mission.

The winter was always high season for missions and for the past few months the soldier was worked so heavily he began collapsing during trainings and even beatings. But he trudged on through the mission without a word of complaint.

For the past hours you’d been scouting out a post to shoot from, watching the families daily lives and when they all returned home. When the sun began to fall from the sky you disappeared back into the cold woods. You hadn’t got a chance to set up your camping gear, simply shooting straight into work. You retraced your steps until you found a familiar outline.

Instead he was laying down, curled up in himself on the cold snowy ground, hair blowing in the wind. You were shocked to find he was in fact, sleeping. The wind was bitter and unforgiving. And barely survivable without proper camping gear and a boost from the serum. But here he lay, looking the most at peace you’d seen him in decades.