colosseum
Two years after being kidnapped, Louise has finally gained enough trust back to be able to be coffee girl again, but the agents no longer speak when she is in the room.
She occasionally delivers messages between low-level offices when agents are too busy to take said papers on their own.
She has learned more Russian, and she isn’t fluent, but can very much hold a conversation.
She is able to move freely throughout most of the building, just not the lower floors where there are doors to the outside, or floors where there is access to labs.
She is hanging out, reading a book in the small lounge near the kitchen on her floor, which is the second floor from the top. The complex is large, but not anywhere close to being as large as the SHIELD Headquarters Louise had been mainly working out of. There are only twenty-five floors, not including the basement.
She finishes the chapter she is on, sighing and setting the book on the table in front of her- in need of a snack after not wanting to get up and make breakfast this morning. She rummages through the cabinets and the fridge before settling on the ingredients for a grilled cheese. Placing the pan on the stove and beginning to butter a slice of bread, she starts to hum.
When she drops a pad of butter into the pan and hears it sizzle, her mind shifts. It shifts to home. To Hannah, Peggy, Stark, to her parents, the wonderful engineers she worked with so closely day in and day out- and she’s crying before she knows it. Louise tries not to think about them too often here, not wanting any signs of weakness shown to anyone who could potentially walk in on her wrapped up in an emotional moment. Plus, it hurts too much not knowing what’s happened since she’s been gone.
A Hydra agent that she’d grown close enough with had confirmed to her nine days after the whole attempting-to-choke-Rumlow-out-because-he’s-a-dick-and-he-deserved-it incident that Howard Stark was, in fact, dead, and the serums they were in search of had been located; Lou had spiraled a bit. Agents around the complex saw how much the loss affected her, how she was practically a zombie for weeks on end, and she didn’t even care that they saw her at a low point. Her mentor was dead, and for a time, her spirit was too.
After a few months passed, though, she’d decided it was time to put the long game into effect; she was going to try to convince Hydra that they had broken her, that she’d lost all hope, that she was done fighting back. That she was no longer a threat to the agency. So, she’d found one of the best ways to do that was not thinking about the people she cares about too much.
Doing this meant she tried not to think about her work, as well. She spent a lot of her time blocking out memories of the hours spent experimenting, building technology, overnights in labs trying to bring her visions to life. Fuck, did she miss her job. Miss having a purpose.
She’s pulled out of her scattered and broken thoughts quickly enough by the smell of bread burning in the pan.
Cursing under her breath, she pulls it out and replaces it with the other piece she’s mindlessly buttered. This time, she just lets her thoughts overtake her, welcoming the tears while placing two slices of cheese on the bread. She butters another piece numbly, places it on top, and flips the fully-built sandwich, the sizzling sound filling her ears once again.
A few minutes later and she’s grabbing a bag of chips from another cabinet before turning to head back to the couch to continue to drown in her feelings. She’s stopped in her tracks by Rumlow standing in the hall’s door frame. Frantically, she moves the bag of chips under her arm so she can have a free hand to wipe her face- even though he’s probably been standing there longer than she’d like to know.
“What do you want? I’m just trying to enjoy a snack, here,” she sighs and continues making her way to the couch, never fully making eye contact.
“We, uh, we… we need you. Need… your skills?” His voice is hesitant and not at all confident. There’s no trace of cockiness dripping from his voice like usual.
She can’t help but giggle, which in a few short seconds grows into a full-bodied laugh. It’s the first time Louise has laughed since she’s been here. She gathers herself after a spell, finally meeting Rumlow’s eyes.
She straightens up, her face suddenly hardening when she registers the look he’s giving her.
He’s serious.
“Sorry, what?” She finally says, dropping the bag of chips to the couch and turning to place the plate on the table, then turning to face him once again.
He’s a few steps closer now, his arms still crossed over his chest like normal, but his stance is almost defensive.
Why?
“There’s been an incident, and we… have no engineers, no scientists. You were one back at SHIELD, right?” He says, still hesitant about the words he’s using.
“I was the head engineer before you came and took me from everything I love, yes,” Lou’s arms are now crossed over her chest too, defensive. She knows damn well the Hydra has gathered information from every aspect of her life, and she knows damn well that Rumlow has read her file countless times. The phrasing of his question rubs her entirely the wrong way, and if they really need her, she’s going to take every opportunity to be smug as shit just like him.
He raises his hands in front of him, saying he means no harm, but that doesn’t stop the glare she shoots him, indicating for him to continue.
“Fine, we have one right now, and we know you were good at what you did there. We need you to come in and do some science shit temporarily until we can fill the spots.”
“I was great. And I could have been even better if you hadn’t taken me from everything I loved.”
He doesn’t respond, just looks towards the floor while placing his hands into his pockets.
Shit, this is serious.
She sighs and takes in a long breath.
“What happened that was so bad that you have no one left and you’re coming to me, a literal captive, huh?”
“Experiment gone wrong,” he offers, his words short and clipped.
“Bullshit! I need more than that Rumlow,” she quips back, shaking her head. Did he really think he was going to get away with just telling her that?
“It’s classified,” he returns.
Louise can’t help but let a laugh slip out before walking around the couch, stepping in front of him with her arms crossed even more tightly across her chest now.
“Bull. Shit. If I’m your only hope, you’re going to tell me what the fuck I’m getting myself into. I am not going to walk into something blind that could very well be a death sentence,” her face is stern when she delivers the statement, not leaving room for more debate. She’s shocked when he looks her in the eyes, his expression now just as hardened, and gives her a short glace- motioning for her to follow.
He presses the number eight when they get into the elevator. The ride is short and eerily quiet, her staring at him while he stands directly in front of her, staring blankly at nothing.
The bell dings and she follows him into the hall. She’d never been on the eighth floor, as it’s a floor consisting solely of labs. Louise can’t help but get anxious while walking through the halls; they’re scarily silent, even for a top-secret facility.
He stops at a door with a plaque on the left side that reads: “LAB THREE: VIEWING BAY.”
At least she’s not walking into the colosseum just yet.
He swipes his ID card, a faint beeping sequence following. He opens the door and steps to the side, sweeping his hand in a gesture for her to head on in.
She steps up past the two rows of six chairs each, up to the glass viewing windows.
What she sees makes her body jolt to grab something to hold onto in fear that she might pass out.
She hadn’t intended to inadvertently wish something into existence as she saw the plaque in the hall, but this is exactly what she’d imagine the colosseum to look like back in its heyday.
Bodies sat mangled on the floor; some whole, some limbs, some just… unrecognizable. The round lab is covered with more blood than she’s ever seen in her entire life, weapons thrown around just as bloody. Jesus, it looks like even random lab equipment was used to bludgeon people.
“Who the fuck did this!?” She shouts, rounding on Rumlow with tears in her eyes before turning back to further examine the scene in front of her.
“Back in the ‘40s, Abraham Erskine worked with Howard Stark on ‘Project Rebirth.’ Erskine had been working on a serum to enhance the human body, to create soldiers to help win the war. Stark worked with and helped him when giving the serum to Steve Rogers after numerous failed experiments. Hydra has had a super-soldier for as long as SHIELD has had Captain America. About two years ago, some higher-ups learned that Stark had been working on a formula for another serum- essentially the same serum- and they wanted it. They wanted to create the most powerful death squad in the world, giving them the advantage when they had something to win.”
At some point, Louise had turned away from the lab, because she is now standing faced towards Rumlow who is sighing and gesturing for her to follow him once again. He’s silent as they walk to the next destination.
“W.S. PROGRAM: CRYO HOLDING” is the door she’s standing in front of next. His ID is swiped, the lock beeps, the two walk past both rows of chairs, and he sits.
“What Hydra hadn’t thought about was the reasons why Rogers was chosen for the experiment with the serum. Erskine was adamant about choosing someone who didn’t have malicious intent. He’d seen with the Red Skull that whatever is on the inside is amplified greatly with the serum, so he picked good ol’ Stevie, who was as wholesome as they come.”
He was standing next to her at the window now, pointing to five identical cryogenic holding chambers with five people frozen in time inside of them.
“Those five were already the world’s most powerful death squad, so that was only amplified with the serum. They weren’t the biggest fans of the engineers running the experiments on them today,” he states, zero emotion lacing his voice. He turns and sits back down as she takes in the sight in front of her. The murder machines in front of her.
“What about that one?” She asks, pointing over to one in a very different holding chamber, one that seems to be more frozen, one with other technology.
He’s the original. He’s the one we trust, have control over. He has his trigger words, he does the mission we give him, he comes back when he’s accomplished that mission, he gets repairs, he goes into cryo. We call him the Asset.”
Asset.
“Sorry, repairs? How do you repair a living thing?” She puts her attention back on Rumlow, confused.
“He’s not entirely human; he lost an arm and it was replaced with a metal one. Sometimes after a rough mission, the arm has damages and needs to have some fixes. That’s where you come in, Anderson. When the scientists lost control of the other five soldiers, one of the other engineers called out his trigger words, gave him the mission to sedate them. He managed, which is honestly probably the only reason they’re in holding right now, but not without taking some hits. With your knowledge of mechanical engineering, we figured you might be able to take a look at the arm and get it fixed once we have the lab cleaned up. Hydra can’t go without the Asset, and no one else here would understand how to read the papers to repair the arm other than an engineer. You’re all we’ve got,” he shrugged.
“You cannot be serious. You expect me to work on a deadly, robotic, super-soldier… completely on my own?” She’s been pacing back and forth in front of the window of the observation bay since the word “Asset” found its way into her brain.
Rumlow steps in front of her, gripping her shoulders to still her. His touch makes her flinch and jerk away just like the first time his hands ever touched her. He looks almost apologetic, and lowers his hands once he has her attention.
“Look, I know you have know reason to trust us and have every reason to hate us. But, you know that you’re not getting out of here anytime soon, and this will at least give you something to do, something to look forward to instead of just reading the same five books and sulking on the common room couch. Please, Anderson, you’re our last chance right now.”
Fuck, she can’t believe she’s about to let his stupid words about how stupidly worthless she feels actually get to her, but they work. She shakes her head, contemplating a moment longer.
“Fine! Fucking fine. I’ll work on your robot. But I have conditions.”