Author's note: I hope you've enjoyed the story so far! Starting this week, for the sake of consistency, I will only be posting chapters on Thursdays.

Every day was the same thing in this Hell. I was released from the handcuffs, shot up with adrenaline, tortured, fed, beat up on by my fellow trainees, and then handcuffed to the bed again. The torture had been going on for days, yet my mutation had yet to make any sort of appearance, and I had the feeling that I was frustrating my torturer. Each day was worse that the last. I refused to beg. Today had been electrocution and water boarding- at the same time. It was the closest I had come to begging for mercy, this was far more physically trying than anything before, but the joke was on the man- I couldn't breathe enough to beg.

Sometimes, after the torture and sparring with the other captives, I would be forced to spar or weapons train instead of being handcuffed to the bed. Sometimes I wouldn't be. There was really so solid pattern. Guns still felt uncomfortable in my hand, although I had to admit, being under the threat of death was more motivating than Clint's training.

I was now confident that there was that there was no way the Avengers were alive. My dad would have never taken this long to find me. In order to keep the despair from crushing me, I was trying to focus on one thing and one thing only; getting revenge on the people responsible. Ajax. And to do that, I had to train, I had to get better. Then when I had the opportunity, I would strike.

And I was getting better. The first night, I made a lot of mistakes and as I predicted, completely got my ass kicked. The second night, I made less mistakes, and still got my ass kicked. The third night, I had finally adapted my fighting style to theirs, and it worked for me; the ass kicking was happening on both sides of the fight. The fourth night, I won.

Madame B had nodded approvingly at me holding the girl in a headlock. "Kill her," the order came.

I was shocked into silence for a few seconds. "I am not a murderer," was my response, and I easily pinched a nerve on her neck that made her pass out. I was worried that they would kill me for refusing a direct order, but then I realized that I didn't really care if they killed me or not. What did I have left?

So, I've been surviving, but barely. Although this wasn't mentally as bad as the years of abuse I suffered before the happy weeks with the Avengers, physically, I haven't been this bad before.

Right now, I was handcuffed to the bed, mentally begging sleep to take me, so I could escape through dreams. I knew it was childish, but I hadn't had a nightmare since I was taken here; possibly because reality was a nightmare. The dreams seemed to be helping me through this torture, like a cool hand on a fevered forehead, and so I used the memory of them and the Avengers during the torture to help me survive and looked forward to the relief from reality at night.

The dreams weren't really anything solid. Just a mishmash of pictures of the short time I had had with my family. Not my mom and stepdad- my real family. Tony, my father. His smile and his laugh. Natasha, my friend- sparring with her, her encouraging me, her hugging me. The Avengers' movie nights, and our family dinners-eating food, talking, and laughing. The warm feeling from these memories of my family were stronger than the torture.

But I would never experience them again in reality. And I knew that it was my fault they were dead, because if I wasn't alive, then the trap that had killed them never would have been laid.

I knew that these dreams were making me weaker in the long run- they were making me wish for something that I didn't have anymore, could never have again. The Avengers were dead. I accepted that.

Sometime, during the torture, my dreams of going to college and studying biomechanics disappeared. I now knew; I was a soldier. And if someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I wouldn't have known what they meant.

I woke up on the sixth day of my captivity screaming.

I had one of the nightmares again, about my past, the ones that normally the Avengers would have helped me think through. There was no one here now. No one to help me. I was alone. Alone in the dark, with the snickers of the other girls around me, laughing that Holly Stark had a nightmare.

I was alone.

The next morning, Madame B came earlier than usual. She had a creepy smirk on her face. I was tired and felt sick; I hadn't been able to go to sleep and the panic attack and adrenaline that accompanied the nightmare had left me drained.

The metal armed man and Ajax were with her. I groaned into my pillow. I didn't have the strength for this today.

I wish they would kill me and get it over with.

No, I told myself firmly, as soon as I thought it. My story wasn't over yet. I had to get through this, avenge my family, and then- well, I guess I would be a renegade. Defending the people that couldn't defend themselves. The Avengers would be so disappointed if I just gave up and let myself die.

I turned my face out of my pillow and glared and the three adults, trying to channel my inner snark. "Morning, psycho bitch, Dishsoap, and poorly-made prosthetic. Haven't seen you in awhile, Dishsoap. What brings you around? In the neighborhood?"

Ajax smiled. "Good morning, Ms. Stark. We're going to be doing something a little bit… different… today."

"Yay, I was starting to get bored," I said sarcastically. "Round the clock torture, you know, kinda looses its effect after a while."

They didn't say anything for a minute. I sensed that Madame B was nervous. "I thought we wanted to keep her intelligence intact? This could break her," I heard her whisper. "I mean, breaking her was always the point- but this, this could damage her beyond repair."

Oh, so that's why I wasn't brainwashed, I realized. They wanted to make sure that they could still utilize my Stark brain. Wait; what the hell were they going to do to me now What the hell could they do that would break my intelligence? I tried to get myself to think ahead of them, to focus my scattered thoughts.

Ajax smirked. "I hope it does."

They led me into a room that had a singular chair and a monitor. I noticed, in a panic, that they although I was handcuffed, they hadn't bothered with a blindfold. A bald man in a lab coat was waiting. They slammed me into the chair, tightened the restraints, and hooked electrodes up to my chest and forehead. Brain waves and my heart rate showed up on the screen. I was glad that my heart rate was close to resting; it gave me the appearance that I wasn't afraid.

Ajax took out a syringe and a bottle.

I rolled my eyes. "Ooh, Dishsoap is gonna give me a shot. I'm so afraid." What the hell was in that?

"You should be. This contains something that directly passes the blood-brain barrier to enter your brain. It will effect the fear center of your brain, causing you to hallucinate your worst memories, just like you were actually living them again."

No. I couldn't go back there. I knew what my worst memories probably were, and all of them took place in Tempe. The monitor showed my heart rate jumping from 61 to 110.

"We seemed to have struck a nerve. Sweet dreams, Ms. Stark."

Ajax plunged the needle into my neck and he and Madame B left the room. "Monitor her," he said to the man in the lab coat.

The world flickered.

I was starving and beat up. My mother had left for work before I had gotten up for school, and my stepfather wouldn't let me have breakfast or pack a lunch. I could have stolen food from the school's cafeteria, but that was wrong; that was stealing. He wouldn't let me eat a snack after school, and after I asked, he began to smack me around from one side of the house to the other. I couldn't stop crying, and my nose and mouth was bleeding everywhere and that was making him angrier.

I tried comforting myself by telling myself when my stepfather left for work and my mom came home, she would feed me and I would tell her. Today would be the day that I would finally tell her what my stepfather had been doing behind closed doors. Sure, Mom had punished me when I deserved it, but nothing like this- nothing this bad. I wasn't this bad of a kid to deserve this.

"HOLLY MARIA STARK!" I heard Mom scream. I ran to the front door, ready to tell her. She kissed my stepfather and he left for work.

My mom instead was pointing to blood on the carpet in the entryway from when he slammed my face against the door. "Why the hell haven't you cleaned this up yet? You little fuck up!"

Her words didn't phase me anymore; she'd talked like this since she'd married my stepfather six months ago.

"Mom… it's not my fault," I said, trying to stop crying and wiping blood and snot off my face. "I haven't eaten yet today, James wouldn't let me. And then when I got home from school and asked if I could have a snack, he said no and started to… he started to hit me." I took a deep breath. My secret was out. I caught a whiff of booze- she had been drinking.

"Shut up, you little bitch!" she yelled. "You're lucky we've kept you! He doesn't want you and I sure as hell don't!"

I snapped my head down to look at my feet, and I didn't even see the blow coming that knocked me off my feet.

"Get up!" She yanked me to my feet and dragged me down the hallway into the living room. Opening the sliding glass door, she threw me outside onto the concrete patio. I heard the door slam and lock behind me.

It wasn't unlocked until the next morning, and I knew, then, at seven years old, that no one cared about me.

"ENOUGH!" I screamed. It felt like my molecules were ripping apart. The anguish from reliving that awful day was coursing through me like electricity. A white light was blinding me, there was a rapid beeping noise coming from somewhere. I couldn't see, it hurt, the pain was coming straight from my core, from my heart_

The white light died down. The pain faded. I lay there, exhausted, mind and body spent. I looked at the man and the lab coat. He was down on the ground. Blood was coming out of his nose and ears. I knew, without needing to check, that he was done. Whatever my mutation had done, it had killed him. Too bad Ajax wasn't in the room.

I couldn't do anything but try to breathe. My vision was blurring. I saw Ajax, metal arm, and Madame B walk back into the room.

"Interesting. I wouldn't have guessed that she'd be able to manipulate energy," I heard Ajax say. I saw them snap bangles around my wrist. I couldn't deal with this anymore. The world went black.

Nick Fury summoned the Avengers into his office on the helicarrier. Tony knew he was in deep shit, but he didn't care.

"I give you all a few days off and you guys let Stark create a murder bot!?"

"It's not a murder bot. It's to stop the next goddamn alien invasion from happening."

"It's a murder bot. Damn it, Stark."

"Do you have any information regarding my daughter?" Tony didn't have time for this. If Fury called all of the Avengers into his office just to yell at him, he was going to freak out.

"Are you going to ignore the fact that you just put the world in jeopardy?"

"I know what I did, Fury! I know I screwed up."

Steve put his hand on Tony's shoulder. He shrugged it off.

"You guys are gonna need to clean this up. Ultron's got the Maximoff twins with him."

"Who?" Tony asked, momentarily distracted.

"The enhanced humans we encountered in Sokovia. He's got super speed and she's got telekinesis, hypnosis, and energy projection," Steve explained.

"Well, they're after vibranium. South coast of Africa. You guys need to go clean this up before we have an international incident on our hands. You're guys are the ones who created a murder bot. Go stop him."

Steve nodded. "Yes, sir. When's the QuinJet leaving?"

Fury sighed, looking conflicted. Finally, he said "Gotta show you guys something. We found Holly."

Tony Stark shot to his feet.

"Why the hell didn't you start off with that? Where is she? Let's go," Tony said.

"Sit your ass down, Stark. You need to watch this first."

Wordlessly, he hit a button on his phone and the terrible scene played out.

Anyone who knew Natasha's past would immediately recognize the Red Room; the handcuffs on the bed, the young girls. And youngest and smallest of them all was Holly. Holly, who was currently handcuffed to the bed, her back exposed, with poorly stitched-up lacerations and very recent-looking contusions all over it. Someone unchained her, and Holly pulled on a t-shirt and stood, not even so much as wincing in pain. Another girl was unchained, and the two began a spar that was graceful and smooth; just like Natasha's style of fighting.

The Avengers watched in horror as Holly restrained the other girl, turned to look at someone off screen, and then incapacitated the girl. She must have ripped stitches sparring- the previously white t shirt was already spotting with blood.

"That was from a few days ago," Fury said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Our intel just collected it before you came into my office. It appears she was taken to a Red Room facility, located in the heart of Russia. Given that she definitely wasn't that great a fighter before she was kidnapped and she just killed someone_"

"She's been brain washed, implanted with false memories," Natasha said tonelessly. "I know the drill with the Red Room, and every single second we leave her there, she runs the risk of getting killed. So when do we go shut this thing down and get her back?"

"It's not your average Red Room. This is… different. Run by a different mastermind. Have you ever heard of Ajax?"

"That's the fresh-smelling liquid substance by the sink," Thor announced.

"His original name was Francis," Fury continued, ignoring Thor. "Until about a year ago, he ran a private sector. He'd lure dying, desperate people to willingly subject themselves to his 'care', and then he would inject them with a super-soldier like serum. They'd get their abilities, and then he would inject them with a control transmitter to turn them into slaves. Government weapons. Mysteriously, his old workshop blew up and he fled to Russia. It appears like they're trying it with kids, because they're easier to train and control. The kids in the Red Room were perfect subjects. They want to make child versions of the Winter Soldier."

Tony was whiter than Steve had ever seen him. Steve was sure that he didn't look too good, himself. But he was the leader, and he had to act like it. He put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "You said super-soldier like serum," Steve said. "What do you mean by that?"

"It's a serum that triggers any mutations in their genes," Fury answered. "All the kids in that room are children of extraordinary parents. Holly was targeted months ago by Hydra because of her fantastic intellectual abilities, but they didn't have a chance. They tried going after her at her stepfather's old place, but she had luckily already ran away and wasn't on anyone's radar. I don't know how the hell she managed to stay hidden when she was traveling to Malibu, but somehow they found out that she was your daughter and laid the trap for her in New York. I don't know if Holly's been injected or not with the serum or not. She didn't seem to be using any supernatural abilities in the video."

"Okay, so we know what we're getting into. A mutant workshop/Red Room type situation. When are we leaving?" Steve asked.

"Here's where things get even more complicated," Fury sighed. "There's already another mutant human lurking there that's got Francis on his hit list. He was a victim of the workshop that exploded. Somehow, he made it out alive. His name is Wade Wilson. He goes by Deadpool."

"What's the problem? We both want to kill the same guy? We'll draw straws for it," Tony said listlessly.

"No, Stark. The problem is that if this guy sees you, he's probably going to kill you. And Holly. And probably every other mutant in that room. He's a madman, absolutely deranged. We need to be delicate about this, because if we don't, everyone will probably die. Everyone but him, because he can't die. You guys may need to tranq Holly, because if she's been brain washed, odds are she's going to try to kill you, and we need to show the Merc with a Mouth that we're on the same side. Not to mention, he needs to know not to kill Holly before you guys go after Francis. He shoots first and asks questions later."

"Still don't see what the problem is," Natasha said. "We've had harder missions."

"I'm having a hard time justifying sending out the Avengers for one kid!" Fury barked. "You're all needed to go take down Ultron and the twins. You created this problem, Stark! You need to fix this. This takes precedent over your daughter."

Steve wrapped his arms around Tony, who had just lunged at Fury. "What's going to be worse, Fury?" he asked, easily restraining Stark, even though Steve wanted to punch Fury as well. "Us splitting up and potentially getting hurt, or the havoc that a mutant as smart as Holly Stark could wreak on the world? We need to shut this program down. We'll do it with or without your help, but if you give us your intel then we'll have a better chance of coming out alive. We'll split up. Stark, Barton, Romanoff, you three go get Holly. Just try and go in and out. We can shut the program down later." He regretted immediately what he was doing. Him splitting up the team would likely get somebody killed. Maybe they could get Holly first, and then go stop Ultron. But Steve was a soldier, and he knew- you went where you would save the most people. Splitting up the Avengers was the only way that he could justify putting Holly before the rest of the world. Not to mention Tony would try to go alone whether Steve liked it or not. "Banner, Thor- you're with me."

"Quinjets will be ready in five minutes. I sure as hell hope you know what you're doing, Rogers."

In response, Steve turned to his team. "Suit up. Tony, Nat, Clint- bring our girl home."

I woke up on my bed, alone in the room. Along with the handcuffs, I now had black bangles on my wrists that had red lights on them. What the hell were they for?

There was a shuffling sound- I wasn't alone. Metal arm was in the room with me. I groaned. I couldn't take anymore torture. I was too tired.

He unsnapped my handcuffs. "Sit up," he said gruffly. I obeyed.

In his real hand, he held a pile of sand. In his metal one, he held a small controller. He clicked something, and the lights on the bangles went from red to green. I felt something strange in my arms- almost like a tingling.

"Your mutation is Energy Bending. You can influence the atomic particles in non-complex substances. Move the sand."

"What? I don't understand_"

He backhanded me. "Move the sand."

I stared down at my hands. The tingling feeling…

I focused on the sand. The tingling feeling intensified, and with my left hand, I made a tight fist. The sand grains flew together and formed a small ball the size of a raindrop. It felt like I was flexing, and I held it for a few seconds before unclenching my fist. The sand grains flew apart, scattering.

The metal armed man smiled. "Bring the grains back together."

"But I don't know where they went."

"Find them."

I closed my eyes and thought about the sand grains. I could… sense them? It was confusing. Even though my eyes were closed, I knew exactly where every grain was. I clenched my fist and opened my eyes. The sand particles, plus a bunch of dirt that had covered the wooden floor, was formed just above my closed fist.

My heart began hammering. This was what I needed- this is what I could use to escape and kill Ajax! This was so cool.

Metal arm pressed the remote control.

The lights on the bangles turned from green to red and it felt like my arms had been torn from my sockets. "Arg!" I yelped. The dirt and sand scattered. Metal man took the opportunity to handcuff me back to my bed. Damn- the stupid bangles were somehow blocking my ability to manipulate the particles.

"Holly Stark. Well done," said the smooth voice of Ajax. I turned to the doorway and glared at him. "You've learned much of what this program can teach you. You're done; you'll move on. Your graduation ceremony is tomorrow," Ajax smirked.

"Yay, another diploma," I said sarcastically, but really I was afraid. Graduation ceremony? They had brainwashed Natasha; was this it?

"Ms. Stark, don't worry. You won't be getting another piece of paper. See, I'm not sure what you thought this was for, but we don't make super humans and then set them loose. We make super slaves. You'll be injected with the control tomorrow- my commencements for you- and then you'll be sterilized, courtesy of traditional Red Room training."

"You sick bastard," I snarled, trying to jump up and forgetting that I was handcuffed to the bed.

"Enjoy your last day of freedom." Ajax and Metal arm left the room.

I wish they would have just killed me.