Chapter 2
Her head was spinning. She couldn’t stay in this town. It would be too obvious and she knew that they’d find her by the time the sun came up. She weaved her way through the city, leaving a wide perimeter around the rendezvous point. Her handling team would all be waiting there for her to return just like a perfectly trained puppy.
That’s just what she was, wasn’t it. Their perfect little guard dog. Some animal that they could order around and leave chained up when they were finished with her. One step out of line and she was punished. But not anymore. She wasn’t satisfied with being on a leash. She had a mind of her own. Didn’t she?
She sped her way around the town, past signs and storefronts, until she was even a little bit convinced that she’d put enough space between her and the Hydra agents who had brought her out to play. It had taken nearly an hour for her to be comfortable. She had found a small, quiet town. That didn’t seem to calm the uneasy feeling that was settling in her gut. Even if her instincts told her that this was her safest bet, she knew that quiet towns were good at spotting anything out of the ordinary.
It was well into the night, nearly midnight she figured. That left about 3 hours until her handlers would be looking for her. She hurried, eyeing rundown houses and family run businesses until she found one she could bother with. There were no cars in the drive, and no lights inside the house. It held a sizable shed. No visible security or particularly sturdy locks.
She quietly snapped the lock off the shed and guided her bike inside. There were a few tarps folded neatly on a shelf. She tugged one down, covering her bike in the front corner and tucking herself behind it. The corner was cramped between the motorcycle and the other clutter that likely hadn’t been touched in ages. But it felt safe enough for her to quickly drift off to sleep. She was exhausted. Something she couldn’t remember really feeling in ages.
Bucky had returned to his home, relaxing on his bed with his journal. It was late enough in the day since Shuri had insisted on keeping him for breakfast. The sun was high in the sky, and he hadn’t gotten any more sleep in the lab, but he was much calmer now. Shuri had advised yoga or meditation. He went for a walk instead.
When the phone on his stand rang, he knew it could only be one person. Shuri had given him and Steve each specialized phones. She said they would be more secure than any that they could buy, and Bucky was learning to trust whatever the girl said. She truly had become a saviour for him lately. It was hard to believe she was only 16.
“Hey, punk.” He greeted. Every time he picked up, he worried that it would be the police or some special agents that had finally managed to hunt Steve down. Or Sam calling to tell him that a mission had gone sideways. But his concern always eased at the sound of Steve on the other end.
“Hey, Buck. Thought I’d call and check in. Haven’t called in a few days.” Steve said cheerily. As hypocritical as it was, and really he did know it was, Bucky hated the way Steve was always fussing about him. Mostly he hated knowing exactly what he was worried about. It wasn’t some outside threat. Wakanda was the most secure place he could be. No, he was worried that Bucky would snap again, or that he wasn’t safe enough to be on his own. But he couldn’t be angry about it. He understood, even if it stung to have his scrawny best friend worrying about him and not the other way around. Truthfully, Bucky worried every day that he wasn’t safe enough to be alone with himself.
“Don’t go worrying about me. Shuri’s keeping a close eye on me. She has me keeping some journal.” He laughed and looked at the leather book sitting open in front of him. He’d only managed a few words this time around. His brain simply wouldn’t give anything up. “She says it’ll be good for me. Help work through the memories.”
Steve gave a short hum in response. He knew Bucky too well to think he believed it was doing any good. But he figured it would be a good enough start until he decided to open up and trust someone.
“How’s the arm coming?” Steve questioned hesitantly. The arm was a little bit of a touchy subject. It had been Bucky’s idea to remove the one Hydra had fitted him with. He insisted it was for safety purposes. Just in case anything went wrong, he’d said. Everyone else knew it was more than that. But Shuri had insisted on making him a new and improved prosthetic. She confided in Steve, told him she hoped connecting it to recovery instead of all the bad the other one had done might help him come to terms with it being a part of him and not Hydra.
“I don’t need it. I’m really getting the hang of this whole one arm thing.” Bucky hoped that he didn’t sound as disgusted as he felt. “How are you? Wherever you are. How’s the lead coming along?” If Steve recognized his blatant attempt at changing the subject,he didn’t say anything about it.
“It’s alright. Sam’s out here going crazy. Driving me crazy. I’m worried if we don’t finish up here soon, Nat’s gonna kill him.” Steve gave a fond laugh, and Bucky did too. “The lead didn’t give us much. But we may have found something.”
“Something like what?” He didn’t quite like the way Steve said that.
It was early when (Y/N) started awake. She whipped her head around in a frenzy until she registered her surroundings. Then she was paralyzed by the panic setting in. Unadulterated terror. She’d run away, she’d ruined whatever plans Hydra had for their next step. When they found her, they would have her head. Maybe literally. And that very well could be the best case scenario for her.
The door was busted open with a loud crack. Dim morning light streamed into the darkness that she’d come to find solace in. She scrambled as far into the shadows as she could, pressing her body tight against the wall. Her hand wrapped around the grip of her gun. With any luck, she’d go unnoticed and she could get a move on before her captors managed to catch her scent again.
But this was most definitely not her lucky day.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” A burly agent sing-songed as he ventured into her space. The words made her skin prickle. He stepped over discarded items littering the floor, shoving others out of his way without a care for any damage he did.
“We know you’re in there, принцесса,” Another voice called from outside the door. This comment sent a wave of nausea through her. That name was the last straw. She was not their princess.
“Do you know anything about…” Steve hesitated as he read over the note Natasha had made under the Russian written in the file. “About a Кровавая принцесса?”
“Bloodred princess.” Bucky repeated back in English. “Where did you get that? The name.”
(Y/N) pressed herself lower to the ground. She could fight her way out of this if she could just get out into the open. Her brain felt too cluttered, but her body knew exactly what to do. She slipped silently towards the agent, pressed low into an army crawl. She stayed as far into shadow as she could. She wasn’t a big fan of being underfoot.
Taking him down was nearly too easy. One dash towards him and a well aimed swipe of his legs and he toppled to the ground, his head bashing against a plastic storage container on the way down. She weaved her limbs around him, her thighs pinning his arms to his sides and her arms wrapping tight around his neck to choke him. He fought as well as he could, but she was easily draining the fight from him. He wasn’t a match to her enhanced strength.
“There’s a ton of files and reports. People talk about an assassin, they call her the bloodred princess.” Steve explained. He could practically hear Bucky tensing. “There were some heavily protected files. Nat’s working on getting in, seeing what else their hiding about her.”
“She’s like me. Another Winter Soldier.” Bucky said finally. “She’s strong. Maybe stronger than I was.”
Once she was convinced he was unconscious, she eyed the contents of the shed desperately. Bungee cords. She could work with that. By the time the agent groggily came to, he was securely tied up. She headed for the door, doing her best to keep out of the light until the last minute. Who was to say how many agents were waiting for her with their weapons trained on the door.
“She was so strong when they started on her. Had a lot of fight in her. By the time they were finished, she wasn’t using it against them anymore.” There was an edge of anger in Bucky’s voice as he continued on.
Her next moves were a blur, like she wasn’t really controlling herself; She was on autopilot. She fought off the first two agents easily. They were reluctant to shoot. The last thing they needed was their weapon of mass destruction laid up with bullet wounds. She knocked their guns from their hands, sending them skittering a good distance out of reach. The first made a quick move to grab her from the front. She aimed a punch at his jaw. It landed hard, surely knocking some teeth loose and sending him to the ground in agony.
As she landed a swift kick to his diaphragm, the second agent wrapped his arms around her. Her arms were pinned and he had her lifted off the ground enough that she couldn’t manage any traction. She growled in frustration, wiggling a bit before tossing her head back hard and fast. She felt it connect with his face. A dull throb ran through her head but she brushed it off entirely. The agent groaned, his grip slipping enough to let her drop to the ground and knock his feet from under him.
The third agent was moving towards her now, seeming to come out of his hesitant stupor. He wasn’t too good at hiding his fear of her. He was new, she was sure of it. The grounded agent reached for her legs and she simply kicked at his ribs hard enough to break them like twigs.
“Stay.” She warned darkly.
“Stand down, soldat.” The final handler commanded. (Y/N) scowled. She never wanted to hear that word again.
“I don’t want to fight anymore.” She carefully scooted around the agents still on the ground until she was safely out of reach. “I just wanna go. Please don’t make me hurt you. I just wanna go.” She pleaded.
“You knew her.” Steve commented. It wasn’t quite a question, more of an observation. Bucky sighed and shifted a little bit.
“I trained with her. They would pit us against each other.”
The agent stepped closer, and (Y/N) took a couple frantic steps back. She was getting awfully close to being cornered and she wasn’t liking the feeling.
“You know I can’t let you go.” He reminded her. “Just come with me and we can get you back in the right headspace.”
“This is the right headspace, (Y/N).” The voice was back again. Strong and sure, something she didn’t feel nearly enough in the moment. She knew that voice. “Get out.”
“No.” She shook her head. “No. I will not go back there. You-you’ll punish me and take it all away again. Everything in my head. I won’t.” She was panicked now. She needed out. Then she caught it, the subtle shift of his finger onto the trigger of his gun. She ripped her gun from its holster and fired two shots.
The first embedded in his shoulder and knocked his gun to the ground. The second hit his stomach. A panicked look crossed his face as he stumbled back and clutched the wound. She was sure that her expression matched his. She was shaking. She didn’t want to hurt him. He was only a kid…
“I don’t know what they did with her. I don’t remember much else. She was only a kid.” Bucky confessed with a frustrated sigh. He wanted to be more helpful. To Steve, and to that girl who had her life stolen away from her.
“Thank’s Buck,”
“Oh god. I’m so sorry.” She ran towards him and snatched his gun from the ground. “I’m so sorry.” She repeated before turning and bolting. She needed to put some space between them and her.
She had lost track of just how far she’d run. She finally came to a stop after...she thought maybe an hour? She could feel the adrenalin wearing off as she slowed to a brisk walk. They weren’t going to give up that easily which meant she needed to get out of the open. But hey, a life on the run was better than a lifetime as a murderer, wasn’t it?
“You’ve come so far, my darling child.” The voice murmured, edging into her mind. It was softer now, warmer. It wasn’t pushing her or urging her to protect herself anymore. It was a sound of pure comfort. “Just keep going, dearest. You aren’t out of the woods yet.”
She took a deep breath and blew it out sharp and hard. She had a tendency to do that when she needed to focus. Or she had…it had been some time since she’d taken on her own quirks. It was as if she was melting into someone she didn’t know. She wasn’t acting like herself. Or like Hydra’s toy rather.
She needed someplace to hunker down and come up with a real plan. A few minutes walking and she found a seedy motel. To any normal traveler, the ramshackle building would’ve been repulsive. But (Y/N) wasn’t picky. She waltzed through the door with her head held high, power radiating off of her.
Behind the counter, a young man, maybe 19, was playing on his phone. He didn’t bother looking up until the runaway assassin cleared her throat. He flicked his eyes up, then did a quick double take and straightened his posture.
“I need a room.” She demanded. She was truly a sight to behold. There she stood in all black with her hair messy and loose. She’d lost her mask at some point during the past few hours, but her pretty face did nothing to offset the threat of the weapons she carried with such grace, or the blood that she had been stained with during the fight. She looked absolutely stunning, and even more deadly.
The kid nodded and scrambled for one of the room keys hanging up behind him. He tossed it towards her and she catched it easily with a half-hearted ‘thanks’. She didn’t have any money to pay for the stay, but she highly doubted the kid would dare try kicking her out.
The room was less than great, but it had a bed and a shower, and (Y/N) had slept in much worse conditions. She locked the door, starting to strip herself of her weapons. Knives, guns, ammo, even a couple grenades. Everything was splayed out in front of her, and the longer she looked at it, the worse she felt. How did this happen to her, when did she become a monster? Was she always a killer?
She sunk to her knees and gave in to the waves of fear. Sobs shook her body as she let herself curl up against the side of the bed. Her life was never going to be normal. She hiccupped out another sob and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. She’d always be running, always looking over her shoulder. She’d always be alone. Nobody would stay with her. If not because of the atrocities she’d committed then because nobody would risk the danger of loving a criminal. Hydra would never let her go.
“Listen, Buck,” Steve started. “I know it’s a lot to ask. But this might be our last chance to finish off Hydra once and for all.” Bucky knew exactly what Steve was trying to ask of him. He’d never tell him just how much he was dreading the question. Life was just beginning to settle for him. He had a home away from all the danger. He had a bed, and food. He had more than one person that he was learning how to trust. But he had never let Steve down before, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now.
“If we can track down this girl, we’ll need you here. Will you come?” There was a long silence. Of course he’d come. But his worries were choking his throat. “You don’t have to say yes.” Steve added. It was enough to snap him out of his thoughts.
“If you can get me there, I’ll come.” He promised. And neither one of them knew if this would end the way they hoped, or much much worse.
She didn’t want this. She wanted to go home. She didn’t have any idea where she was or just how long she’d been there. They hadn’t let her sleep for more than a few moments. She was starving too, couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had something to drink. They dragged her out of the cell where they were holding her. Back towards the chair they’d strapped her to so many times that she’d lost count.
She screamed and squirmed, fighting to get away. But they were stronger than her to begin with, and she was just so weak. It hardly took any effort for the two men to strap her in again. She looked at them with wide eyes. They were bloodshot from the crying and tears welled in them once again.
“Please, no.” She sobbed weakly. “Please, I’ll do anything.”
“What is your name?” A man in a white lab coat questioned her. When she didn’t answer, a sharp smack stung against her cheek. She balled her hands into fists and clenched her jaw.
“(Y/N). My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Seemingly satisfied with her answer, the man gave a nod. The two metal pieces moved towards her head again and she found a new strength to fight. She couldn’t take it. Not again. Her desperate pleas were cut off by an agonized scream.
She screamed until her throat was raw. She couldn’t think straight with the pulses of electricity assaulting her brain. When they stopped she slowly pried her eyes open. Her mind couldn’t put thoughts together, couldn’t bring herself to fight properly, she just squirmed weakly. And then they were repeating those words again.
Парк...
Восемь...
What did they even mean?
Сгореть...
Семнадцать...
Was that...was that Russian?
Сломана...
Гавань...
She felt strange.
Открыть...
Отказ...
Like she couldn’t think. Couldn’t focus.
Отказ...
Делить…
The man in the white coat stepped closer and leaned in towards her face. Her eyes were glazed over, distant. He took this as a good sign. There was no emotion held in them.
“How are you feeling, soldat?” He asked. Her eyes slowly drifted until they landed on him. It appeared to be a struggle for her to focus.
“Where am I?” She asked in a near whisper, tugging at her restraints. This clearly pleased him, a wicked grin creeping onto his face.
“This is a start. Once more.” He ordered.