Look at me
I will never pass for a perfect bride
Or a perfect daughter
Can it be I'm not meant to play this part
Now I see
That if I were truly to be myself, I would break my family's heart

Who is that girl I see
Staring straight, back at me
Why is my reflection someone I don't know
Somehow I cannot hide
Who I am
Though I've tried
When will my reflection show who I am inside

Reflection, by Lea Salonga, from the Mulan Soundtrack, released in 1998

I forgot to add this, but warning for a Panic Attack in this chapter. I will underline what contains a panic attack so you can skip it if you require. It is not my intention to upset anybody- I know how horrifying panic attacks can be.

"I remember that at the last session we had, you felt some semblance of guilt over the lives lost during the Sokovia Disaster. Has that changed at all?"

Dr Angela Hughs was a reasonably tall person, even when she was sat down behind her desk. There was short red hair on her head, styled similarly to a boys, clashing somewhat with her grey eyes. Her thick Australian accent was incredibly out of place amongst the Tower, but then again, so was Sparrow's own.

Forcing herself to relax, and reminding herself that not only was it Bucky's wish for her to undergo this.. 'counselling', but it seemed to help her adapt from time to time. Sparrow shrugged, taking a diplomatic sip of water in an attempt to appear (and feel) relaxed. She refused to admit that she felt uneasy here.

"I don't think it will ever change. My guilt is a part of me, something that was ingrained into me so deeply, that I don't believe I will ever be able to shrug it off."

She swept aside a curl of her hair before her stomach rumbled, louder then she thought it could. It was an occurrence that happened a lot more then it used to, much to her surprise. Angela laughed- she'd insisted to be called Angela, so Sparrow had no choice but to obey- before rolling her chair back and swivelled to face a jar, filled to the brim with colourful sweets of all shapes and sizes.

There were different flavours that she could smell- lime and strawberry and grape- and all of them smelt oddly satisfying. Picking up the jar, Angela came back to the desk, resting the jar on the table and unscrewing the lid. She nearly knocked it over, which would have sent an eruption of multi-coloured sweets sprawling over the floor had Sparrow not caught it with her manipulation of the air, pushing it gently back up so it rested on the desk.

Catching the few sweets that had managed to escape, she put them carefully back in the jar, like they had never been disturbed in the first place.

"Why don't you take a few?"

Sparrow knew Angela well enough to know that it was less of a suggestion, and more of a recommendation. She would rather Sparrow had some, then she didn't, and it was a way of getting Sparrow around the whole issue of explicitly requiring a confirmation.

Fighting her instinct to just stay still, she hesitantly reached out and took a few, only two or three. That was all she felt comfortable with. Instead of pointing out how literal Sparrow was being with the 'few' part, she hummed, before accepting the explanation given.

"That is certainly one viewpoint of it- but the purpose of these sessions, I believe, is to help you, perhaps not move on, but come to terms with what happened to you. That it was wrong. What do you think about what happened to you?"

Sparrow chewed on a surprisingly tough 'gummy bear', her teeth making short work of it. Swallowing it, she locked eyes with Angela, who was waiting patiently for an answer. Seeing that she wasn't going to get out of it- and that Bucky would not be impressed had she been less than forthcoming – she took a second to think about it. She didn't really have any opinions about it and said as such.

"I don't think about it as bad nor good. Logically, I know it is a bad thing, an illegal thing even, but I hold no opinions about it. It's just something that happened in my lifetime."

Angela hummed quietly yet again, her eyes constricting a little as she thought about what Sparrow had said. Sparrow put a second gummy into her mouth, swishing it around as the bitter taste of lime swirled around her mouth.

She scrunched up her face in disgust but forced herself to swallow it, not wanting to waste the food she had been given. Taking some of the vitamins that she had been given by the doctor, Sparrow placed one in her mouth before swallowing it dry, just before it started dissolving and leaving an even worse taste in her mouth.

"And what about your powers? What do you think about those?"

The question was asked innocently, but also with intrigue. Sparrow turned her palm over, before sparking a little fireball, keeping it under heavy control as the flame jumped up and down her palm, sending little excited sparks out. She quickly clenched her hand shut, smothering the flame abruptly.

"They are useful to have, as I can protect my Mas- those I love. But they also prevent me from being a normal person- or rather, from attempting to be a normal person. If I do not have absolute control, then someone could get hurt because of my actions."

"But would that be on your plate? Surely that would be a result of HYDRA?"

No, it wouldn't be. She may have been given the powers without consent, and HYDRA may have used her as nothing more than a weapon, but it was up to her to have absolute control, so she couldn't harm anyone else. Sparrow had done enough of that throughout the years.

"While the powers were given to me through methods I cannot and will not condone, it is up to me, it is my decision to control them. If I lost control, then it would be me that was at fault. Not HYDRA."

Angela took a sip of what smelt like coffee, before settling her cup back down. Sparrow's eyes flashed with a dangerous glint as she remembered a particularly nasty memory from HYDRA. Then again, none of them was pleasant. It was one of the times that she'd been locked in the darkroom, with no light to be seen and no company to speak of.

Cold air trickled in, attacking her bones and making her forced to take little and shallow breaths as the air became too cold to breathe in. She snapped back to attention as Angela steered the conversation into safer territory, further away from the many traumatic memories she had.

"And what do you think about Tony? I know you were unsure of him at first."

That was nothing new. She was uncomfortable around everyone at first, regardless of how much she liked their personalities or not. In her world, personalities didn't matter- only if they were loyal to you, and would protect you. This was why she hadn't built any bonds with anyone outside of Bucky, and even then that had been limited, a relationship born by simple nicknames, and a mentorship.

"I think of him like I do Bucky. A mentor, a leader, someone to look up to. He and Bucky have different mannerisms, and while Bucky is more strict in nature, Tony is still somewhat light-hearted, although he can still take it seriously."

For practically the thousandth time, Angela nodded. It was beginning to get on Sparrow's nerves, to be honest, but it was lucky that she was well practised in patience. That, and despite everything, a part of Sparrow really liked Angela, something that surprised herself. There was still the tip-toeing caution that was ever-present in her life, but she 'allowed her hair down' so to speak.

"You mentioned that you feel defensive of Peter, Tony, and Bucky. Do you have any insight as to why?"

Rubbing her eyes and clearing her throat, followed by a quick sip of water, she allowed herself to think about the question in depth. Why did she feel defensive of the three of them? Bucky was understandable- or at least she thought so- because he was the first person that she'd bonded with him. In an attempt to keep him close, she was immediately protective over the bond they held and wanted to cherish it with the best of her ability.

Tony was a little different. There had been no bond between the two of them until he had brought her books. He'd earned her trust- something not given out for free- and in return, she'd watch over him. She'd wager that was why she felt defensive over Peter too. She explained her reasoning to Angela, who nodded appreciatively, taking another sip of her coffee, which didn't smell particularly nice- too sweet smelling for her tastes.

"That's understandable. We cling to what we hold dear, in our attempts to keep it close to our hearts. Now, before we end this session, I have something I want you to think about."

She tilted her head curiously, blinking her eyes at Angela in curiosity as she cautiously accepted another gummy which was outstretched. Usually, these questions were rather cliché in nature, supposed to help her through her trauma. While she wasn't quite sure how they helped, they did encourage her to think like a human being, and less like a robot. That counted for something, right?

"Do you think you deserve to love?"

Sparrow hadn't let the heavy question bother her for too long, and since all of her trips to the Compound had been cancelled since Tony, Peter, Pepper and Rhodey, as well as Steve & Sam, went to London, she was in her room, listening to music.

JARVIS was shuffling it based on Tony's interests- which had never steered her wrong before- and she found herself tapping her foot in time to the music. There were small notes on a small mechanical robot, that she wanted to put a rudimentary AI into. A being to learn and understand and counsel her, when she felt like she couldn't talk to anyone else.

But she knew she had a lot more experience to gain in that area, and while fixing JARVIS had been a good.. leg up.. for her, it wasn't enough. There was a difference between JARVIS and the AI she longed to make- JARVIS was originally made to help Tony with all kinds of functions and jobs, whereas the AI she wanted to make was to counsel people, to adapt based on their personalities.

It was difficult to code an AI specifically for that purpose, which was why she was researching. But since AI was a newish field, and only Tony had the sophisticated AI's, she was rather limited on what she could learn. The music quietened a little as JARVIS' British lilt trickled over the speaker.

She was a little surprised to her JARVIS' accent in her room because FRIDAY was normally the one who was in the rooms. That meant that either FRIDAY was managing the bots, or she was with Tony for whatever reason. It didn't really affect her either way, whether it was an Irish tone or a British one.

"Miss Sparrow, I believe that Sir has some notes that I am allowed to give you access to. They are the early drafts of my own code. Would you like me to send you a copy?"

"I'd appreciate that JARVIS. The prefix Miss is not necessary, however."

There was no answer from the AI apart from the volume returning to its normal level, and the notes surrounding JARVIS' creation springing up on her laptop monitor. The notes had been digitised, as evidenced by the fact it had Tony's unruly scrawl of handwriting all over it. Some of it was easily decipherable, and she took time to memorise it- the information within was far too dangerous to be kept lying around.

The other bits were left aside, for a later time where she would try and decipher them. Once she thought the notes were sufficiently memorised (and the song playing had since changed to Eruption, by Van Halen) she dismissed the plans from her screen, before changing what she was researching to engineering. The AI would need a chassis, which would both a practical look, and a relatively non-lethal looking one, and she had numerous variables to work out.

What materials to use, what design it should have, and the colour scheme was just a few things on that list. Sparrow was thinking perhaps a dog or a cat- something small, not intimidating, and associated with good memories. For her, humans were... touchy subjects, bears were... well, the Russian forests were not fun to roam around with no weapons, and almost every method of transport was a no-go for her in terms of memories.

Plus, it would be peculiar for a disembodied voice to be coming out of some sort of vehicle. There was a part of Sparrow that was thinking that this whole endeavour was childish, foolish, something she shouldn't do. She should protect Peter, Tony, Bucky, and that was about all she was good for. A murderer and a killing machine were what she was.

"Miss Sparrow, your heart rate has picked up considerably. It seems you are suffering from the first stages of a panic attack. Contacting Sergeant Barnes."

She couldn't say anything, it felt like there was no air getting into her throat. It felt like her throat had been crushed, any oxygen she was taking in being immediately shut off. She collapsed onto the wall, the world seeming duller and duller, black dots scattering her vision as she breathed rapidly in an attempt to gain more air.

"There is no answer from Sergeant Barnes, contacting Mr Stark."

The voice picked up almost immediately, and in the corner of the room, a projection of Tony appeared, still in a suit and looking somewhat pale-faced and upset. Looking at the clock, it was about 4 pm in America, meaning it was about 10 pm over there. While her throat still felt closed, shutter then a sealed box, Tony seemed to look at her and realised in a few seconds what exactly was happening.

"Passera? (Sparrow) You know where you are, yes? New York, Passera. (Sparrow) I need you to follow my heartbeats- JARVIS will project it onto the wall."

Another hologram was projected onto the wall, this time of a heart rate monitor. It was elevated slightly, but not alarmingly so. The steady thrumming was something that Sparrow was trying to focus on, in an attempt to calm down, but it wasn't easy. Tony said something to JARVIS that she wasn't entirely aware of, but the lights suddenly became slightly dimmer, and the hologram brighter.

"Там около 4 вечера, да?" (It's around 4 pm, right?)

The Russian was heavily stilted, and a little rough on the accent, but it was relatively simple to interpret. It wasn't like she could reply though, being far too busy trying to get air into her stubborn lungs to work. Hologram Tony looked a little upset at something, as he clenched his fist. In the background, Peter came into view, Pepper's arm wrapped around the boy's shoulder.

He looked confused, before his hazel eyes widened at the sight of Sparrow, crumpled in a heap on the floor. She blinked, not seeing as she shivered involuntary, arms wrapped around her knees, as her heart rate scattered to sky-high. In front of her, a peculiar Iron Man suit appeared in front of her, looking slightly furry, but still with the familiar red and gold colour scheme.

The suit crouched down, movements fluid despite Sparrow knowing there was no human pilot inside of it, and outstretched a hand. Perhaps once realising that she wouldn't grasp it, or upon Tony or JARVIS' ordering, the suit wrapped it's hand around her own, the fuzzy feeling helping to anchor her to the present, and allowing her to focus less on her panic attack. There was a soft humming coming from the suit, sounding oddly like Tony.

The words were in what she thought was perhaps Italian, or French, and mentioned something about a little bird taking flight. As she tried to keep an eye on what was being said, her breathing began to regulate a little and level out, even if her throat was still painful, like she had been screaming non-stop over a prolonged time. The suit leaned over to her, before gently wrapping her in a hug, as Peter, Tony, Pepper and Rhodey looked at her with varying expressions.

Tony, like usual, was difficult to decipher, but what she could tell was that there was no pity, only a little bit of guilt. Pepper looked angry for some reason, but now that Sparrow had regained some cognitive ability back, she was pretty sure that it wasn't directed at her. Rhodey was much like Tony, his look neutral, but there seemed to be a look of underlying anger.

She wasn't sure what it was directed at. And finally, Peter. The only one to show some sympathy towards her touched with a dash of understanding. Peter was more understanding than most when it came to these kinds of things. Her hands grasped around the back of the suit, her hands almost managing to crack the metal with her pure strength alone.

"That's Bedbug, Sparrow. I made him for when Peter has a nightmare. That's why he's basically a glorified stuffed toy. He'll fix himself if you managed to break him in any way- which happens more often then you would realise- so feel free to squeeze as tightly as you like."

He paused, looking at the girl who looked up to face him with watery emerald eyes, the tears being restrained by sheer force of will. Despite the fact that the water built up in her eyes, Sparrow had seldom let them shed, fighting them with no doubt the fear of being punished.

In the hologram, Tony's phone beeped, and he glanced at it briefly, texting with a flurry of fingers just as Peter stepped forward, his face, though red with what looked like tears, and his hair dishevelled, began to speak in his Queens accent that Sparrow still finds comforting for whatever reason.

"So what have you been up to today Sparrow? I hope it's more chirpy then what we've been doing."

He sniffed a little, stifling a yawn. It was unlike Peter to be so tired at so early a time, but then again, while the day had unlikely been physically draining, it must have been emotionally draining. That was what Sparrow could understand from psychology anyway.. not so much from personal experience. A weapon has no emotion, after all.

"I have been researching engineering, and also computing, including artificial intelligence. I would like to make my own at some point, similar to Dum-E, U and Butterfingers. I am unsure whether this will come to fruition or not, but it is a project I would like to do. I have also been to see my Therapist, as per my weekly sessions."

Tony looked up at that moment, with curious and intrigued lines, but also wary ones. It wasn't a secret how Tony was extremely cautious about AI's now, especially after Ultron. Still, Sparrow was being extremely careful, and she would not allow any malevolent beings to taint her first non-HYDRA creation.

"I could help you with that Roe- what would you like the AI's purpose to be?"

Throughout the ensuing conversation, Sparrow became distracted from the panic attack she had suffered, and more focused on her project which was becoming quickly the forefront of the conversation. Not soon after, Happy came in, and stayed with her for the rest of the evening- a gesture that Sparrow appreciated from the man. It was nice to know that they cared about her- and it almost took away the sting of Bucky not responding to JARVIS' call. Almost.

Author's Note

How are you guys all doing?

Honestly, first, I'd like to thank you all for reading. And I love getting reviews, regardless of whether they are by guests or by people with their own accounts. They make me smile nonetheless. Usually, I'll send every reviewer a comment back, but since the following people are guests, I'll do it here.

Elle, I really appreciate your review. I'm glad you're enjoying it, and how I'm portraying the whole Accords thing. You're definitely right in that Tony knew Peggy for longer, and that was always one bit of the MCU that disappointed me; that Tony never really saw Peggy. And with Peggy being so close to Tony, I thought it only be natural that they went to visit regularly. Thanks for reviewing!

Guest, I'm sorry I made you cry twice. Twice. I promise it was no intention of mine... and apparently I'm great at describing funerals. Well, not great, nobody should be good at that, but well, I've had a lot of experience. I'm hoping this chapter is more cheerful? Hopefully? If not, I'll try and plan a giant party or something. I'm glad- I assume- that you're enjoying the story, and I'm hoping I don't make you cry for a while.

Anyway, I have a maths prelim to study for- my last one, thank fuck- so I'd better sign off here.

QOTW: What is one thing you want to see in my story?

See you all next time!

~Cait