Memories
The Machine didn't move. She stayed frozen to the spot, unsure whether to follow her orders. Steve Rogers was her current handler, and he had clearly been attacked by the man standing in front of her. Her loyalty was to her handler, above anything else.
But…
She knew Brock Rumlow. He had been her handler for two years. It had become natural to do as he asked. The Machine could tell Rumlow was confused when she didn't immediately move to follow him, as a frown grew on his face. Was he not aware of her new handler allocation?
"You are not my assigned handler. Steven Rogers is" The Machine spoke up, her eyes flickering down to the blond on the floor, who had still not stirred.
"What the fuck are you talking about? He is the enemy. He's S.H.I.E.L.D, remember?" Rumlow exclaimed, only confusing the Machine further.
"My CNS has been rebooted. Handler allocation was necessary and has been made" The Machine pointed out.
"You remember why you've been rebooted? Because Black Widow attacked you! We were on a mission, you were ambushed and taken by the enemy. You're confused—" Rumlow began, but she cut him off quickly.
"I don't get confused. I follow orders. My current orders are to protect Captain America and Black Widow. You have put my mission in jeopardy" The Machine glared, as Rumlow backed up a step, holding a hand up.
"C'mon, Rookie. You know me. We're on the same side" Rumlow insisted, as she tilted her head.
"You should leave. If you continue to obstruct my current mission, I will be forced to take action. I…I will hurt you" The Machine told him, a conflicted expression on her face.
"Is Primary Directive 012212 still active?" Rumlow questioned.
"Yes…in the event that the Machine is without a handler, they are to return to Agent Brock Rumlow and await further instructions" She explained.
"And when your CNS was rebooted, you were without a handler, correct?" Rumlow asked, as she nodded.
"Then your current handler allocation is void. Primary Directive's take precedent above all else. Which means…I'm still your handler, right?" Rumlow went on, inching closer to her, his shoulders tense.
"…Correct" The Machine agreed, after a few tense moments.
"So, we're good, yeah? I'm not about to get my ass handed to me?" Rumlow questioned, surprised when he saw the Machine's lips twitch into a smile.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I will be compliant with all further orders" The Machine exclaimed, the smile falling from her face.
"I know. What did—" Rumlow began, when the Machine suddenly shoved him to the floor, as a bullet whizzed through the air.
The Machine let out a cry as the bullet pierced through her arm, going straight through the flesh, causing her to stumble backwards. Rumlow instantly pulled his own firearm out of his thigh holster and was returning fire in mere seconds. The Machine's eyes quickly found their attacker, a cold feeling running down her spine as they approached the pair. Black Widow. It was clear that the bullet had been meant for Rumlow, and without a second thought, the Machine was crouching down to shield her handler from the onslaught of bullets. Natasha's trigger finger stilled as the two women's eyes connected, both their intentions clear.
"Stand down" Natasha ordered, hoping her words might still have some control over the Machine.
"You tricked me" The Machine spat out, feeling something bubble up inside of her.
Anger?
The two Avengers had been using her, as she was stupid enough to fall for it. They weren't to be trusted. They were the enemy. And the enemy had to be dealt with by any force necessary.
"We're not the ones who made you into a killer" Natasha exclaimed.
"I'm not a killer…I'm a weapon" The Machine retorted, raising her hand up, as blue light shone out of the metal of her hand.
Natasha's eyes widened as she heard a screeching sound from behind her, and whipped around, just in time to see a car racing towards her. She leapt out of the way as the vehicle whizzed past her, landing on her back, but expertly jumping to her feet a second later. The car must have been electric. Damn 21st Century, Natasha thought to herself. She saw the Machine storming towards her, and instantly pulled out one of her taser disks, throwing it towards the other woman. The Machine raised her arm up to stop the device from reaching her neck, as Black Widow had planned, but it still sent a painful electric pulse up her forearm. With a growl, she ripped the taser disk away from her shirt, as it burnt her fingertips. Natasha saw the next attack coming, raising both arms up in defence as the Machine kicked out at her. Despite blocking the blow, Natasha was still thrown onto her back, the strength from the Machine's kick far more than a normal person could manage. From her crouched position, Natasha swung her own leg out, throwing her opponent to the floor. She immediately crawled on top of the Machine, pulling the younger girl into a headlock, but it wasn't as effective a move as she had hoped. The metal on the left side of the girl's neck meant that no matter how hard she squeezed, the Machine was barely fazed. A second later, the Machine was grabbing Natasha's arm and throwing the redhead over her shoulders, sending a punch to Natasha's face a split second later. Just as Natasha was pushing herself to her feet, she heard a clicking sound from beside her, turning to find herself face to face with the barrel of a gun.
"Not even you can beat the Machine, Black Widow" Rumlow smirked, before slamming the gun down on her skull.
Natasha slumped to the ground, as blood ran down her forehead, but she didn't lose consciousness. It would take a lot more than a blow from Brock Rumlow to do that. Seeming to realise this, the man in question moved his finger to the trigger, lining his shot in between Black Widow's eyes.
"Brock" The Machine cried, jumping to her feet, placing her flesh hand on his chest, making him pause.
She wasn't sure what had caused her to take the action. Did she not want Black Widow to die? The redhead had tricked her, betrayed her...but Black Widow stopped shooting when the Machine went to shield Rumlow. That meant something.
Rumlow's mouth went slack as he caught the expression on the Machine's face. She was usually so emotionless, apart from a few flickers of something just behind her eyes. But now…her forehead was contorted with concern, eyes wide, and her voice thick with emotion. She gave a small shake of her head, as she kept her hand on his chest, applying a small amount of pressure. He had only seen her like this once before, he realised. The first day they met when…
"Your inhibitor's damaged" Rumlow announced, as the Machine instantly ripped her hand away.
"I am still functional" The Machine replied, averting her eyes to the ground, almost looking ashamed.
Neither saw Natasha flicking a device towards Rumlow, hitting his jacket, instantly camouflaging itself against the black colour.
"What's wrong, Rumlow? Scared your guard dog might go rabid?" Natasha mumbled, seeing a look of uncertainty flash over his face before he quickly masked it.
Suddenly, the Machine raised her hand out, a spark of electricity flowing out from her metal palm, hitting Natasha in the head, knocking her unconscious immediately. Rumlow raised an eyebrow as they watched the redhead flop to the ground.
"Not funny" The Machine muttered.
It was highly unusual for the Machine to do anything without orders first. To render a captive unconsciousness in a seemingly knee-jerk reaction was…concerning, to say the least. Rumlow watched as she grimaced a moment later, reaching out to touch her arm which had been injured by the bullet and taser disk, seeing how it was hanging limply at her side. The pain was shooting up and down the limb, as blood pooled underneath her shirt, dripping down until it reached her fingers.
"Does it hurt?" Rumlow frowned, as the Machine nodded uncertainly.
"C'mon, we need to go. We'll patch you up on the road" Rumlow advised, reaching down to grab her hand, pulling her away from Black Widow's unconscious body.
As they stole a vehicle from the parking lot, another memory pushed to the front of the Machine's mind. She was quick to realise one thing these memories all seemed to have in common.
The Winter Soldier.
The moment the Machine was dragged out of the hospital room she had been kept in; she was stepping into a warzone. Bullets were whizzing past her, as the soldier with the metal arm returned fire, meeting his target every time. Within a matter of seconds, five people all donning tac gear were dead on the ground in front of them, as he pulled her onwards. The Machine was quick to notice the symbol on the corpses uniform. S.H.I.E.L.D. It was of utmost importance that she was not captured by S.H.I.E.L.D, which had been drilled into her for as long as she could remember. The soldier kept his hand wrapped around hers at all times as if he expected her to run. The Machine flinched as a bullet whizzed towards her, only to be blocked by the soldier's metal arm, moving faster than a normal person could. They soon made their way to the back of the hospital, staying close to the wall, in an attempt to avoid snipers that were no doubt waiting in the shadows. Just as they rounded a corner, two agents were waiting for them. The soldier kicked out at the nearest agent, sending him flying across the parking lot, as he hit the ground with a thud. Before the other agent could even fire their gun, the soldier had grabbed their head and slammed it into the brick wall, caving the man's skull in, leaving nothing but a pulpy mess behind. A second later, the Machine heard a clicking sound from above them, as she reached over to grab a knife from the soldier's belt. Without a second thought, she threw the weapon in the air, as it met its target. The soldier's eyes snapped up, seeing a sniper had been abseiling off the building, his gun still raised, with a knife now going straight through his throat.
"Permission to attack, Sir?" The Machine questioned, earning a quick nod in response.
"I require a blade" The Machine informed him, as the soldier regarded her for a few moments, before complying with the request.
As soon as he placed a pocketknife in her palm, which had been hidden inside a leather strap on his chest, she sent it hurling upwards, as the knife cut through the rope the agent hanging above them had been using. His dead body fell to the ground with a loud thump, as the Machine reached down to grab his assault rifle. Suddenly, the soldier picked up the dead body, placing the corpse in front of them both as a flurry of bullets rained down on them. The Machine crouched down, quickly spotting two S.H.I.E.L.D agents rushing towards them. Lining up her shot, she shot the first agent in the head, killing her instantly, as the other agent jumped to the ground. In response, the soldier grabbed a grenade from behind his back, from where exactly the Machine couldn't tell and hurled it towards the agent. A second later, the grenade exploded, sending parts of the agent flying over the parking lot. The soldier then dropped the corpse, grabbing the Machine's hand and pulled her towards the nearby cars. The pair came to a halt as three military vehicles raced towards them, cutting off all their exits. The soldier dragged the Machine towards the nearest car, practically throwing her under the vehicle, as he took a bullet to the shoulder. Just as he was evaluating their options, the Machine grabbed onto the bottom of the vehicle, directly under the motor. The soldier's eyes widened a little as he heard the car splutter to life, as the Machine scrunched her eyes shut. She then grabbed onto a nearby metal pipe and used it to haul herself off the ground. The soldier quickly realised what her plan was, taking hold of another piece of the car and pulling himself up. Almost immediately the car was hurtling forwards, the strain on the Machine's face evident. More bullets were sent their way as the car raced away from the parking lot, breaking through a metal gate as it did so. After less than a mile, the strain of holding onto the vehicle and driving it appeared to be too much, as the car ground to a halt. The soldier was quick to grab the Machine's shoulder and drag her out from under the car. He all but threw her into the passenger seat, jumping over the top of the car to climb into the driver's side. He hit the acceleration and sent them whizzing down the road, seeing S.H.I.E.L.D wasn't far behind them.
"Put your seatbelt on" The soldier warned her, as the Machine quickly did as she was asked, expecting a bumpy ride.
"Hey, you with me?" A voice questioned, as the Machine felt a hand hesitantly touch her shoulder.
Her head snapped up to see Rumlow staring down at her, as she realised she was still in the car they had stolen. They appeared to be in an abandoned warehouse, but strangely the Machine couldn't remember their journey there. Had she blacked out?
"C'mon, we need to take a look at your arm" Rumlow exclaimed, ushering her out of the vehicle.
"My limb remains functional. The taser disk hit flesh, not metal. It only…stunned me" The Machine informed him, trying to find the right words, as she stumbled out of the car.
"I'm pretty sure I saw you take a bullet for me, Rookie. Your strong, but even you need to be patched up" Rumlow insisted, grabbing a nearby crate, and placing it near her, gesturing for her to sit down.
"It is my job to protect my handler. You" The Machine replied, lowering herself onto the crate as Rumlow crouched beside her.
"I know. You always got my back, right?" Rumlow stated, with a small grin.
He then pulled her sleeve up, revealing an oozing wound a few inches under her shoulder, quickly finding an exit wound. It wasn't a bad wound as far as they went, but there was still too much blood loss. The Machine was looking paler by the moment and that made Rumlow nervous. They weren't that far from where he had left Rogers and Romanoff. Alive. That was a mistake. A stupid mistake that he only made because the Machine—
"Are you injured?" The Machine's voice brought him out of his thoughts, as her hand came up to tentatively brush against the black eye he was sporting.
"Cuts and bruises. Just superficial" Rumlow murmured.
"You weren't hurt in the fight. Who hit you?" The Machine frowned, as Rumlow didn't pull away from her gentle touch.
"…There's a reason no one else is here, Rookie. They wanted me to pull the kill switch on you" Rumlow admitted, as the Machine's eyes went wide for a second, dropping her hand to her side.
"You went against orders?" The Machine asked, almost looking angry.
"I told them the truth. Kill switch is gone" Rumlow admitted, as the Machine tilted her head in confusion.
"I…I don't understand" The Machine replied, as Rumlow let out a long sigh.
"I deleted the programming for the kill switch. It's gone. For now at least" Rumlow told her.
"Why? It…it is a necessary part of my programming—" The Machine began, but Rumlow cut her off quickly.
"Not with me, right? We don't need that. You're loyal to me. No matter what, yeah?" Rumlow insisted, seeing the conflicted expression on the Machine's face.
Something about what he said made the Machine feel uneasy. What else had Rumlow put into her programming when he became her handler? She knew he had added his own Primary Directive's. What if—
No.
Rumlow was her handler. She was not there to question his actions. Only to follow his orders. A few minutes later, Rumlow had grabbed a first aid kit that was luckily in the back of the car they stole and began to bandage her up, his eyes flickering up to hers every few seconds. He appeared…nervous.
"So, your inhibitors really broken? You can…feel things again?" Rumlow inquired, as she nodded.
"What're you feeling right now?" Rumlow asked, as he finished tying the bandage on her arm.
"Like I want to punch Black Widow in the face for shooting me" The Machine replied, surprising herself a little.
Rumlow couldn't stop the soft laugh that left his lips, causing a smile to grow on the Machine's face. She was glad to have Rumlow back as her handler. Things had always been easier with him. She knew what he wanted. He liked thinking of her as 'his' Machine. Even as if she was a person sometimes.
"Was it Pierce that hit you?" The Machine questioned, reaching out to brush her fingertips against the bruises on his face once again.
Rumlow liked being touched. He liked touching her. She had almost attacked him only an hour ago, she needed to find some way of placating him. She didn't want him to stop being her handler.
"Nah, he got his lackeys to do it. Rollins was there. Told me I was an idiot" Rumlow scoffed.
"…Nothing new there" The Machine pointed out, choosing her words wisely.
Her behaviour was bordering on insubordinate. On inappropriate, but Rumlow's grin told her she had said the right thing. Maybe if she pleased him enough, he wouldn't take her back to Hydra, she wouldn't need to have her inhibitor fixed.
"So, how was it? Having Rogers as your handler? I'm surprised you didn't blow your brains out having to deal with his self-righteousness" Rumlow scoffed.
This was a test. To prove her loyalty. It was easy.
And it was to inflate his ego, a stupid part of her mind stated.
"He was very confusing" The Machine told him, keeping it simple.
Steve Rogers had been nice. He had given her food and water. He had agreed to call her a name she wanted. No one had done that for a long time. Not since...
"I…I missed you" The Machine spoke up, catching his gaze.
She could see the change behind Rumlow's eyes as soon as she had spoken. Suddenly he was surging forward, his lips colliding with her own. His lips were warm and rough, as he snaked a hand behind her back, pulling closer to him. She reached out with a tentative hand to the base of his neck, her fingers reaching up to grip his hair, tilting her head so he could deepen the kiss. This was easy. This made her handler happy. The Machine tried her best to return the kiss, hoping it pleased him and from the way he was panting as they pulled away, she was certain she had.
Had she really missed him?
She couldn't remember how missing someone felt. A longing? She could vaguely recall feeling such emotion for an older woman, perhaps her mother? She couldn't remember her face, voice…anything. She must have had a mother once. Everyone did. The Machine realised she had felt the longing feeling more recently. For the Winter Soldier. While things with Rumlow were easy, when she had been with the Winter Soldier they were just…natural. Nothing was forced. It felt right.
The man with the metal arm was silent as he drove the car into the forest, far from civilisation and any cameras that S.H.I.E.L.D could be using. They should be safe for the moment, the Machine told herself. The soldier exited the car quickly once he parked, going to the boot and rummaging around, bringing what he had found back to the driver's seat. A flashlight, first aid kit, and duffel bag were thrown to the ground. As he zipped open the bag, the Machine couldn't help but speak up.
"Are you my new handler?" She questioned, watching as the soldier's movements stilled.
"No" He spoke quickly.
"What is your preferred title designation, Sir?" The Machine inquired.
"I am the Winter Soldier. I have been tasked to facilitate your return to Hydra. Alive. S.H.I.E.L.D has been made aware of your reappearance. They will be hunting us. We are to await further orders" The soldier informed her, pulling out some clothes from the duffel bag.
"My mission is to return to Hydra? Am I to protect you, Sir?" The Machine frowned, a little confused.
"I do not need your protection" The Winter Soldier retorted, a harsh tone to his voice.
"It didn't look like it back there" The Machine muttered, surprising herself.
The words had left her mouth before she realised it. The Winter Soldier's eyes snapped to hers quickly, as she expected to be punished. That's what her handler would do. Instead, she thought she saw his mouth twitch upwards for a split second before it was gone again.
"…Your experimentation number is K-80. Is this title satisfactory?" The Winter Soldier questioned, as the Machine mulled it over.
No one had ever called her that before. K-80. It was short and simple…but a lot nicer than her current title. She nodded quickly, as the Winter Soldier handed her some of the clothes out of the duffel bag.
"You should change" He advised, as she looked down at the thin hospital gown she was still wearing.
The Machine couldn't help but notice how the Winter Soldier's eyes seemed to run over the metal covering parts of her arms before he seemed to force himself to look away. There was a question in his eyes. Not needing to be told twice, the Machine quickly removed her gown and pulled the thin t-shirt and cargo pants on. Just as she was buckling the belt, she felt a strange emotion. Embarrassment? Should she have felt embarrassed stripping in front of the stranger? Was that normal? She turned to the soldier, who had his hands clasped in front of him, eyes downcast and stiff. Part of his programming, she recognised. Sometimes handlers, superiors, would need to strip in front of them, and they weren't supposed to look. It could make people uncomfortable. The Machine reached into the duffel bag, finding a pair of shoes inside, assuming the car probably belonged to someone in the hospital, who would now be wearing their uniform. It was only then that she noticed the hoodie that was pulled over the back of her seat. It was large. A man's most likely. Her eyes flickered over to the Winter Soldier again, seeming how his arm shook a little. She could see goosebumps on his neck and recognised he must have been cold. It was very rare that she felt a change in temperatures. Part of her programming again. The Winter Soldier seemed surprised when she thrust the hoodie in his face, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
"For you. It's cold" The Machine stated, as the Winter Soldier slowly took the clothing from her hands.
His eyes darted between her and the hoodie for a few seconds, as if he seemed to expect her to rip it away from him. When he realised it wasn't going to happen, he pulled the hoodie over his shoulders. It was a little small for him, but she noticed how his body language quickly relaxed. It was the metal arm, she realised. He didn't like looking at it. That was something she could relate to.
"…Thank you" The Winter Soldier mumbled, the words coming out more of a question than a statement.
Natasha was fuming. That was the only way to describe it. Steve felt a little unnerved as he pulled out into the road, deciding to keep silent. He had been unconscious for most of her fight against K-80 and Rumlow, but the dried blood that had soaked into her Natasha's hair, told Steve it didn't end well.
"Two against one is hardly a fair fight—" Steve began, but she cut him off.
"Don't even say it, Steve" Natasha grumbled.
"…This isn't the way to the coordinates" Natasha pointed out, as Steve let out a long sigh.
"That's because we're not going there. Not yet at least. I heard a couple saying they saw a girl and a man racing out of the parking lot this way" Steve informed her, as Natasha gave him a look.
"Steve—" Natasha began, but he stopped her.
"I know what you're going to say, finding out what was on that drive is more important. Think about the many, not the few" Steve explained.
"Steve, it's not—" Natasha exclaimed.
"I'm not sacrificing a kid for the good of the world, Natasha. That's just not me. No one gets left behind—" Steve rambled until Natasha had enough.
"Steve! You missed the turning" Natasha informed him, holding out an electronic device, making Steve frown.
He saw a red dot on the screen and realised Natasha was tracking something. Or someone.
"I put a tracking device on Rumlow. Thought it might come in handy" Natasha shrugged, as Steve grinned widely at her.
"I knew it" Steve smiled, warmly.
"What?" Natasha frowned.
"I knew I was right about you" Steve replied, as Natasha couldn't stop the smile tugging at her lips.
Laying low was a nerve-racking experience. Something the Machine wasn't used to. It was clear that neither she nor the Winter Soldier were used to being discreet. Luckily, the grimy motel they had found off a dirt road, with no security or camera's, meant they could hide in plain sight. The Winter Soldier had been acting strangely ever since they signed in at the front desk. There had been a newspaper on the counter, and she had seen how the soldier's eyes kept darting towards it. As soon as they entered the motel room she couldn't help but speak up.
"Does the date mean something to you?" The Machine frowned.
"I have never been out of cryofreeze for this long. I was on a mission prior to this, and there was not the time for me to be wiped" The Winter Soldier explained, only confusing the Machine further.
"What is…cryofreeze?" The Machine asked.
"It is where I am kept when I have no mission. Ice forms around me…keeps me fresh. But I am awake. I don't dream…" The Winter Soldier trailed off, with a small shake of his head.
"Hydra has this in their possession?" The Machine gaped, a look of fear on her face.
"It was a device for super-soldiers, such as myself. You would not be placed in such a device" The Winter Soldier told her, trying to sound reassuring.
"You said you were wiped? Is that a type of programming?" The Machine questioned, as the Winter Soldier tilted his head.
"There is a chair…a headset. It takes things away. Memories" The Winter Soldier admitted.
"Does it hurt?" The Machine queried, seeing how his metal hand clenched just speaking about it.
"It always hurts" The Winter Soldier mumbled.
"...You're bleeding" The Machine exclaimed, a few seconds later, as the man looked down to see blood running down the leather straps over his chest.
"It is not important" He retorted, turning to look out of the window, pulling the curtains closed.
"You feel pain. It should be eased" The Machine insisted, taking a step towards him.
More than ten minutes later, the Winter Soldier sat on the stained sheets of the bed, having finally removed all of the straps that kept the leather plastered to his chest. The bullet had pierced his shoulder only a few inches from where it connected to his metal arm. The Machine watched as he dug his fingers into the wound, only grimacing, not making any other sound, as he ripped the bullet out. He then got to work bandaging the wound, seeming not to even bother cleaning the wound. He called himself a super-soldier, maybe that meant he healed quickly? He was having difficulty getting the bandage around his shoulder, spurring the Machine to offer her assistance. With a quick nod, he allowed her to finish the job, taping the bandage in place. She allowed herself to gaze over his muscular chest, confused when she felt her face flush. That was new.
It was then time to look at her own wound. The hospital staff had stitched up the bullet wound to her thigh and dressed it, but it had started to bleed again, meaning that blood was now running down her leg. The cargo pants were big enough to allow her to easily lift the trousers over her leg, as she cut away at the bandages. She was surprised when the Winter Soldier suddenly kneeled in front of her, brushing her hands away. He efficiently and easily re-dressed the wound, wrapping it tightly to stop the bleeding. He pressed his metal hand against the wound for a moment, as he moved to grab some tape to keep it together. He saw how the Machine grimaced, quickly masking the expression, but he had seen it. In a few seconds, he had finished the bandage and ripped his metal hand away, as if he was burnt. He had seen that look before. Agents and superiors who were disgusted by the mere sight of his metal hand—
"It hurt. The wound. When you pressed down, it wasn't your hand" The Machine's voice broke through his thoughts, surprising him.
"Oh" The Winter Soldier mumbled, almost feeling embarrassed.
"Does it feel things? The hand? Touch?" The Machine inquired.
"It has sensors. It's numb, but I can feel sensation" The Winter Soldier admitted, wondering why she asked.
"Mine doesn't. It's just metal. No feeling. Just…cold" The Machine sighed, looking down at her metal palm, her forehead wrinkled.
She flinched slightly when the Winter Soldier suddenly placed his flesh palm over her own, wrapping his fingers around her hand. Their eyes connected for a moment, as the soldier squeezed her hand lightly.
"It's not cold now" He stated, his warm palm heating up the skin that surrounded her metal palm.
"I guess not" The Machine replied, finding a smile spreading across her lips, as she wrapped her own fingers around his hand.
"—send out our location. Pickup should be pretty soon" Rumlow's voice broke through the memory.
"Pickup?" The Machine frowned.
"We'll get you back to base. Sort out your inhibitor. You'll be as good as new in no time, Rookie" Rumlow stated, as she felt her breath catch in her lungs.
"I…I don't want to go back" She announced, as Rumlow came to a halt.
"What?" He questioned.
"I'm not broken" She exclaimed, as he ran a hand over his face.
"You're malfunctioning. Unstable. This is the right thing to do" Rumlow told her, as her eyes narrowed.
"The right thing for Hydra. For you" She pointed out, as Rumlow's eyes flickered down to see how her hand was twitching.
"I've put my ass on the line for you. You really think there's any getting away from Hydra? You're smarter than that" Rumlow explained.
"It hurts. The re-programming. I can't…I can't do it again…" The Machine trailed off, clutching at her head, shaking a little.
"Hey, look at me. I'll be there, okay? Just like last time. You'll feel better once you're fixed. You'll feel right again" Rumlow insisted, reaching out to cup her cheek.
"…If you don't bring me back to Hydra, what will happen to you?" The Machine inquired.
"They've already got a shallow grave with my name on it, Rookie. You do this one thing for me, yeah? You owe me that, don't you?" Rumlow pushed, as she nodded slowly.
It was the only thing that was stopping the Machine from grabbing Rumlow's gun and putting a bullet in her head. That would have been kinder than being re-programmed.