Steve had been sitting across the table from Bucky watching the guy stare at the ingrained counter for nearly fifteen minutes. He hadn't been talking a lot and Steve was sure he didn't really feel comfortable. It was all probably getting to be a little much. Bucky had been more than tuned out for the last few weeks. He'd been withdrawn and pulled back. He hadn't cooperated with the psychiatrists and he tried to explain why but it usually just came out jumbled. Steve had been trying to give him routine and order. It's what they had told him to do for the guy to help but Bucky was a shell of himself. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Clint suddenly come zipping through the hallway as the front door came flying open. He started to get to his feet.

"What…" he started to ask.

"Tony playing with shit again. Not good. Anya's compromised." He snapped out ushering the psych. Doctor into the house. "They're downstairs." He rushed on. Bucky's head snapped up at that.

"Compromised? How…" he shoved his chair back. Steve noticed the slight change in his eyes. There was something protective there, not necessarily mission driven, but it might have been the closet thing the guy had to real concern left.

"If you're coming, come on." was Clint's only response. Steve followed quickly at Bucky's heals. There was an immediate scream that broke through the glass door when they opened it. Bucky stiffened accessing the room and floor instantly. His eyes swept across the expanse taking note of what was happening.

"I am not the enemy here." Tony said backed up against the computers. He had part of his suit armed and charged on his arm but he had it down so it wasn't a threat aimed at her head.

Anya let a long ragged breath through her nose, nostrils flaring in frustration before she ripped the computer arm from her head. She was shaking as she got up staring him down.

"Stand down." Bucky said suddenly. His voice was loud and clear. It commanded her. He didn't recognize the flare in his voice, the way it easily slid back into a Hydra tone.

"Make me." She ground out standing up now. Her feet hit the floor, still in her shorts and tank, she faced him standing full height. He'd drawn her attention away from Tony. Steve heard the familiar clink and whir of his arm charging up.

"I'd rather not." Bucky said sternly. "Stand down." A few moments passed between the two before her shoulders sagged in defeat. She looked down at the ground her hands in fists at her sides. She couldn't directly deny an order from him. It wasn't in her viable nature. No matter how much she dreaded it; he still had complete control of her. She was trained to obey him and many others. He noticed the tremor that ran through her body. Steve started to take a step forward when she spoke. It was so soft they almost couldn't hear her, almost.

"Get away from me." She whispered.

"Anya…" he put a hand up.

"I don't want to be around you…I can't." she walked quickly now making to move past him and out of the room. There was an indescribable need for air and space. After the memory that had just surfaced; there was no way she could be this close to him, not after what she'd done to him.

"Talk to me." Bucky knew from some of his sessions in the last few weeks you had to talk. He was not incredibly good at that yet, but he was working on it. It was hard to put into words the things that had happened to him, who he was, and what he'd done. He knew what she felt.

"Get away from me." She snapped again smacking his arm aside as he raised it to stop her. He'd reached out with his metal arm and she'd smacked his away with her own. They all heard the resounding thud of metal to flesh with metal underneath. It created an eerie sound that reminded them all she was not just a soldier; she was every bit a super soldier like Steve and Bucky. Steve raised an eyebrow. He noticed just how strong her bones really made her if she was able to deflect Bucky's arm even that easily.

"Anya." Her psychologist spoke up. The poor man had been terrified before. He'd only agreed to help this girl because he specialized in PTSD and he owed Cap. A favor after working with him a few times. Her eyes slid past Bucky to the doctor.

"I need air. You said to get air. I need air." She said it like a mantra. Her eyes found Bucky again. It was just a glance…just a sideways glance and he saw it all. There was so much intensity behind those eyes that he thought he could almost feel the pain there. She swallowed before averting her gaze as she made for the door.

I hurt him…they made me hurt him…I need to breathe…

The thoughts ran through her head quickly. Her psychologist followed but gave her a respective three feet of space. He'd learned from sessions that generally there would be a guard soldier at her back and front at a normal distance of two to three feet breadth. It gave her room to walk but enough for them to raise a gun and shoot her if need be. It blocked her in as well. She was more comfortable with people staying at those distances because it was what she remembered. It was routine.

(Later in the evening)

It had been a long three hours since Bucky had watched Anya walk out of Tony's lab. In those three hours many things had happened. Steve, who had tried very hard to not ask many questions unless Bucky supplied answers willingly, was getting a load from Bucky now. He'd been giving the Cap. Small tidbits about things he could barely remember about the girl. Little things, like how they'd used her to test things before giving it a go on him.

They'd also learned that Anya was a mess. The psychologist had motioned to sedate her. They'd placed her back inside the observation style locked room and no one was allowed in or out unless they were a certified doctor for her care. Even Tony had been barred and his company was paying for it. Bucky was finding it harder and harder to concentrate. He was worried. Something at the back of his head was gnawing ever since they'd come back here. He kept thinking back over the conversation that he and Anya had had that first night. That mission. He felt Steve's hand on his shoulder and he tensed looking up.

"What's up Buck?" he asked gently. "You're making me nervous." He said taking a seat beside him again on the couch in the living room of the tower. They were on a middle floor between living quarters and work floors.

"They said they can't even wake her up right now…every time they do she keeps saying the same things." His sunken sleepless eyes worried Steve the way Bucky was worrying about Anya.

"She's reliving what they think was the last memory she dreamt about before she woke up." Bucky ran a hand through his hair. He'd yet to cut it after coming back; truth be told, he liked being able to hide his face behind it.

"Would they tell you what that memory was? When I asked they refused." Steve didn't want to lie to Bucky but he also knew how fragile his friend was mentally. He wasn't ready for that kind of information yet.

"It was of her hurting you." Natasha spoke from the doorway her hip against the frame. Steve shot a glare up at her. Damn that woman to be the one to speak the truth like that. Bucky's eyes snapped up instantly. Confusion barred across his face.

"Hurting me? Ho…" he started.

"Pierce gave the order. They wiped her. They made you submit to her. They made her hurt you." A slight look of horror passed Bucky's face. He could not recall this. There was no memory of being made to ever submit to Anya. Never. His hand balled into a fist as Steve shot another angry stare at Natasha. If she sent Bucky into a wave of confusion and hysteria, he would make her regret speaking.

"What's she been saying when she wakes up?" Bucky ground out between his teeth.

"In crude German, and some Russian…essentially she's begging to stop hurting you. She's asking for it to stop. And she keeps saying something about two marks?" Bucky stiffened. Marks. He knew that. He remembered that.

"She needs me in there." He said getting up.

"You can't. No one's allowed." Steve said sighing. "It might not be good for you or her." He prodded. He was worried about the girl but also about Bucky. He wasn't sure how healthy either of them were for one another. They both needed to heal on their own. It was like putting two alcoholics alone in a room to see which one got sober first or got the other one to drink.

"I'm not asking for permission Steve." Bucky leveled his friend with a very heavy voice.

He followed Natasha around the corner then without hesitation leaving Steve to stand there in silence for a moment. He watched the coy redhead wondering why she had in fact done this. Why risk setting him off too? They had enough on their hands without him going homicidal as well.

"Trying to figure me out big guy?" she asked turning back to face him as they went down the hallway towards Anya's observation room. He nodded briefly.

"Why?" was his only response.

"Because sometimes everybody needs someone. That two marks thing…we saw it on the video files we found from her training. We knew that it involved you." She stopped at the door at the end of the hallway.

"I…" she cut Bucky off.

"She's hurting because she remembers hurting you. That means you're the only one who can stop this." She shrugged opening the door. He raised an eyebrow realizing that as she'd spoken she'd also picked the lock.

"Thanks." He nodded to her after. "I'll take care of her this time."

He walked through the door and froze.

Anya was sitting almost underneath the cot they'd originally strapped her down on. She was shaking, holding her knees up to her chest, and her eyes were hollowed out and wide. She was not rocking. She wasn't speaking. However, he could see the straps on the bed had been broken, the computer monitoring her was smashed, and there were two long angry red marks running across the back of her right hand. She'd sliced them there with a piece of the computer which lay bloody at her feet. She felt alone. She felt scared. She felt guilty and she knew in fragmented pieces some of the things she had done. It was like playing a looped track of shattered images across her mind continually; small pieces of violence here…snapping a guy's neck there…punching someone…shooting people…Bucky running with her…training…

Her shooting a round into Bucky's leg.

Her digging her fingers into the skin where his attached arm met the shoulder.

Her snapping his good arm out of socket and breaking the wrist.

Pierce.

It came through in terrible horrible waves.

He always comes…he always comes…

He won't anymore…

He's not coming…

You are alone…

She couldn't keep the thoughts out of her mind. She gripped her hands tighter feeling the strain in her knuckles.

Why would he? You hurt him…you tortured him…

You are alone.