Pain was the first thing the Machine felt when she woke, acutely aware of a stinging sensation that ran down from the base of her neck. It…hurt? Any discomfort should have been pushed to the recess of her mind, unless given by her handler. She could hear the steady hum of an engine and the way her seat shook now and again, suggesting she was in a vehicle. As she slowly opened her eyes, she found her vision was blurred, and no commands obscuring her sight. The Machine became uneasy as she found she did not seem to be connected to her handler's comms. She stiffened as she realised her data showed she currently had no handler assigned. That was highly irregular.
Had she been re-programmed?
The Machine's eyes flickered down to her hands, which were restrained by magnetic handcuffs attached to the metal door at her side. She appeared to be travelling in a civilian vehicle, another irregularity. She looked forward to finding two individuals in the front seats of the vehicle, a blond and a redhead. The driver seemed tense, his eyes continuously darting to the side mirror, as she realised he was looking for anyone following them. She needed to know what her mission was.
"Распределение ожидающего обработчика" The Machine spoke up, as the driver almost veered off the road, startled by her voice.
"I don't…what did she say?" The blond man questioned, turning to the woman.
"Pending handler allocation" The redhead replied, her forehead wrinkled.
The Machine turned to the blond man, selecting his language preference as English. This was the same preference as most handlers. She stiffened as she realised she had already made a mistake. Punishment always followed mistakes. Looking into her past data files, she quickly found the names of the two individuals and recognised them as S.H.I.E.L.D agents.
"Handler assigned as Steven Grant Rogers, Captain America. Is a secondary handler required for the mission, Sir?" The Machine inquired, looking to the redheaded woman.
Her new handler opened and closed his mouth a few times, his eyes darting between her and the road in front of them. He gave a curt nod, his lips drawn in a fine line.
"Verbal consent is needed for handler allocation" The Machine pointed out, finding it strange that Handler Rogers was not aware of this.
"Yes…secondary handler required" Steve murmured, unsurely.
"Secondary handler assigned as Natalia Alianovna Romanoff, Black Widow" The Machine stated, watching as the woman in question seemed to tense at her words.
The Machine delved deeper into her files on her new handlers, examining the term 'Avengers' with interest. She had not been aware of the two S.H.I.E.L.D agents joining Hydra, but this was understandable. She only needed to know what was necessary to her mission.
What was the current mission?
"Awaiting mission instructions" The Machine exclaimed, cutting through the tense silence that filled the vehicle.
The Captain and Black Widow shared a look, an unspoken message behind their eyes, one that she couldn't understand. The Machine found it difficult to read emotions, but they seemed…nervous? Perhaps they had never been handlers before. Her fourth handler, a young Russian soldier named Arkady, had been unsure when he had been assigned the Machine. He had appreciated her prompting him, 'nudging him in the right direction', she remembered he had once said. Maybe Steven Rogers needed this too?
"Without mission instructions, it will be difficult to assist you" The Machine informed the blond.
"…Your mission is to protect us. Our team has been compromised. An unknown enemy is apprehending us" Natasha explained, as the Machine turned to her primary handler.
"Are these your orders, Sir?" The Machine inquired, as Steve nodded, earning a raised eyebrow from Natasha.
"Oh, right…Verbal consent is given" Steve added.
"I appear to be malfunctioning. Numerous systems have been affected. I will require immediate assistance" The Machine informed them both.
"Which systems have been affected?" Natasha asked, as the Machine turned to her primary handler once again, needing confirmation whether she could answer.
"You can answer her. You don't need to ask" Steve told her, as the Machine gave a quick nod.
"My CNS appears to have been damaged. I am unable to retrieve data from the last 1143 hours. Are you able to see my live feed, Sir?" The Machine questioned.
"Live feed?" Steve frowned, as the Machine tilted her head.
"You should have been given access to my live feed when you were chosen as Primary Handler. Without constant supervision, I could malfunction" The Machine went on, her eyes narrowed.
Her new handler seemed ill-prepared with the task of controlling her. Still, it was not her place to question this. Only to aid him.
"If we return to base—" The Machine began, but Steve cut her off immediately.
"We won't be. We need to go off the grid. We don't know who to trust" Steve admitted, appearing shaken.
"You can trust me, Sir. I will protect you to the utmost of my ability" The Machine told him, firmly.
Steve's brow furrowed at this comment, almost seeming a little pained by her words. The Machine averted her eyes to the ground, gritting her teeth as she realised she had done little to reassure her handler. She used to be better at this.
"What is your preferred title designation, Sir?" The Machine asked, after a few seconds.
"I think she's asking you what your name is" Natasha snorted, amused.
"It's Steve" He replied, his eyes flickering to the front mirror to look at her.
"It would be inappropriate for me to call you this" The Machine clarified, a look of disbelief on her face.
The idea of calling her handler by their first name was so…wrong. They were her superior. Perhaps it was a test? Her first handler enjoyed testing her, trying to see what made her tick. The Machine called her handlers 'sir' or 'Commander', apart from her previous handler who liked her calling him by his name…
Rumlow.
Why had had she been given a new handler? Had she done something wrong? Something in her chest tightened at the thought of not seeing Rumlow again. Things had always been easier with him. They worked well together. The Machine opened her mouth to ask what had happened to Rumlow but slammed her jaw shut a second later. How could she be so stupid? Captain Rogers wouldn't want her asking about a previous handler. It was disrespectful.
"You are a Captain…would this title be satisfactory?" The Machine suggested, nervously, unsure if she was being too assertive.
"It's better than 'Sir" Steve chuckled, but his tone lacked any humour.
"I guess you can call me Black Widow then" Natasha offered.
"What should we call you?" Steve inquired.
"The Machine" She replied, simply, watching the blond's eyes widen.
"That's not your name" Steve told her.
"Individualisation was deemed a mistake. The Machine will be suitable" She insisted, as Steve shook his head a little.
"I'm not calling you that" Steve scoffed, the disgust clear in his voice.
"I…I'm sorry, Si—Captain. You may call me whatever you wish" The Machine apologised, realising that she was already arguing with her handler.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid—
"It's alright. We'll figure out names later. You said you were…damaged. Are you hurt?" Steve asked, as Natasha's lips twitched into a smile at his comment.
"I don't hurt" The Machine frowned.
But that was a lie. She was hurting. The pain shooting up her spine was evidence of that. The magnetic handcuffs had cut into her wrists, a drop of blood dripping onto her trousers. She could feel bruises covering most of her body, revealing that she must have been in a fight recently. She should not have felt these things. It wasn't possible unless—
A sharp intake of breath from the backseat had Steve's eyes flickering to their captive, his forehead wrinkling when he saw the panic written all over her features. She was breathing erratically, looking as if she was on the verge of a panic attack. Steve quickly pulled over onto a grassy verge on the side of the road, worried what the girl would do next. Natasha was also watching her, her arms tense, ready for a fight. Their captive was unpredictable.
"My inhibitor is damaged" The Machine croaked out, scrunching her eyes shut.
"Inhibitor?" Steve frowned, clearly confused.
"It controls my limbic system" The Machine mumbled, shakily.
"…Right. And that is…?" Steve trailed off, turning to Natasha.
"It's a part of your brain. It deals with emotions and memory" Natasha replied.
"I'm not supposed to feel. I'm…I'm becoming defective. I need to be re-programmed" The Machine insisted, her eyes snapping open.
"We can't go back to base—" Steve began, but was cut off as the Machine suddenly wrenched her magnetic handcuffs away from the door, a wild look in her eyes.
"No, no, no" The Machine muttered, shaking her head.
Before either Avenger could stop her, she had thrown her whole body against the door of the car, breaking it off its hinges. She flopped onto the grass below, as Natasha jumped out of the car, her gun in her hand.
"Stand down. Now" Natasha ordered, raising her gun as the Machine struggled to her feet.
The sudden change in the Machine's behaviour was disturbing, to say the least. As Steve came to stand beside Natasha, he saw that their captive appeared close to tears, her whole body shaking. Her head fell into her hands, which were still cuffed as she continued to mumble inaudibly under her breath.
"Natasha, don't. She's scared" Steve stated, in a hushed voice.
"This could be a trick" Natasha pointed out, as Steve took a step forward.
"Hey…it's okay. We're not gonna' hurt you, kid" Steve called out, holding an arm out as he slowly approached her.
"I'm dangerous" The Machine suggested, looking at him through her fingers.
"That's why we can't just let you run off, okay? But we'll help you—" Steve began, but she cut him off.
"No. I'll hurt you. I…I hurt my handler when I became defective last time" The Machine admitted, backing up a step, almost stumbling over her own feet.
"That's why you jumped out of the car? Because you're scared of hurting your handler?" Steve realised, as the Machine slowly nodded, taking her hands away from her face.
"The fact that you're telling me this shows that you're still in control—" Steve started, but she cut him off again.
"No! I'm not in control. I…I follow orders. I'm a good machine. Tell me what I need to do" The Machine cried, making Steve flinch.
"Taking a chill pill would be a good start" Natasha murmured, reluctantly lowering her gun.
"Do you mean sedation? Yes…yes, you should sedate me. That is advisable" The Machine nodded.
"Why did you hurt your last handler?" Steve questioned, now only a metre away from her.
"He…he shot me. I was angry. But I'm not supposed to be angry. I should not feel emotions. It makes me defective" The Machine insisted, as Steve felt another pang of sympathy in his chest.
"Well, that sounds a lot like self-defence to me" Steve pointed out.
"I defend my handler. I don't defend myself" The Machine retorted.
"We all lash out when we're angry. That's what makes us human" Steve told her, as she shook her head vehemently.
"I'm a machine" She insisted, firmly.
Why didn't her handler seem to accept this? She couldn't carry out her mission. She was supposed to protect her handlers, but with her inhibitor damaged…
"If we don't make you angry or upset you…that means you won't hurt us, right?" Natasha guessed, as the Machine mulled over this.
"Until my inhibitor is fixed, I will be unstable. I…I find it difficult to understand things, I may grow angry for no reason" The Machine warned them.
"That sounds like half the guys from my old unit" Steve told her, with a lopsided smile, making her frown.
Steve's eyes flickered down to her wrists, seeing how the sharp metal had cut into the skin there, causing blood to slowly drop onto the grass below. If they weren't careful, she was going to end up hurting herself.
"I'm gonna' take these cuffs off now. Stay still" Steve told her, as he reached out for her hands.
"Rogers, are you sure that's a good idea?" Natasha called out, as Steve shushed her.
His movements were slow, allowing the Machine to pull away if she wanted, but she stayed still. Compliant was the sickening word that came to Steve's mind. As he de-magnetised the cuffs, he was thrown for a moment by how cold her skin was. It felt like ice. He let out a long sigh as he saw the cuffs had caused more damage than he realised and hoped she wouldn't need stitches. Just as he was about to tell Natasha to scout the car for a first aid kit, the girl ripped away a piece of her shirt and began to wrap it around her wrists, something which she had clearly done before.
"You have very little regard for your life. This will be a problem" The Machine pointed out, as a smile grew on Steve's lips.
"You're not the first to say it" Steve chuckled.
"And I doubt you'll be the last" Natasha snorted, holstering her gun, her arms still tense.
The Machine soon finished tying the two strips of cloth around her wrists, trying to calm her breathing. She hoped her new handler wouldn't punish her for her disobedience.
Hoped?
No. She would take whatever punishment her handler deemed fit. She would obey all the orders given. That was her job. The Machine's eyes flickered down to her right hand as if on cue, her fingers began twitching involuntarily. Had she received further damage than she realised? A spasm shot down her arm as a strange memory came to the forefront of her mind.
Her hand was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes, twitching non-stop, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to make it stop. The Machine rolled onto her back, letting out a hacked cough as her eyes flickered around the room. They soon found an empty bucket above her, attached to some sort of pulley system. It was then that she realised she was covered in water from head to toe…and that a live wire was flailing around by her feet. She had been electrocuted. Suddenly, she sat bolt upright as her systems came back online. She heard a thump from the other room and saw a man had stumbled backwards when he saw her, his eyes wide with fear.
"S-shit…that should have…why didn't it work?!" He cried out, as he watched her slowly push herself to her feet.
"That was very stupid" The Machine announced, as her mission directives flashed in front of her eyes.
She was there to kill the man. He was a scientist that worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. He had found a file he wasn't supposed to, and she was there to…clean up the mess. It was simple. And it should have been easy…
"You were aware of the plan to kill you…who told you?" The Machine questioned, taking a step forward.
"Hydra will never win. You always lose in the end" The scientist retorted, stumbling over his own feet as he almost fell into the corridor behind him.
"You should answer my question" The Machine advised.
"Hydra isn't the only one with friends in high places" The scientist spat out, grabbing a nearby broom, holding it out in front of him.
"I don't see any of your friends now" The Machine exclaimed, her tone changed.
Complete the mission. Kill him.
The command flashed in front of her eyes and a second later, the Machine lunged forward, grabbing the broom from the man's hand, and snapping it in two with ease. She kicked out at the scientist, throwing him into the nearby wall as he cried out in pain. His eyes connected with hers, his hands balled into fists, a strangely determined look on his face.
"Fuck Hydra" He muttered, spitting on the floor.
The Machine tilted its head, wondering why the man wasn't begging for his life. Something about what he said made her stop. Some part of her mind…agreed with him? Sharp pain shot up her spine a moment later, a far too familiar sensation. The only pain she ever felt was that given by her handler. He had some sort of control over her CNS that meant he could cause her pain when needed.
Kill him. Now.
Without a second's thought, she swung her arm forward, the sharp end of the broom penetrating the man's neck as blood splattered over her cheek. She watched as the scientist flopped to the floor, as blood continued to spurt from his neck. The Machine wiped away the red substance on her face, her brow furrowed as she looked down at the blood on her hands.
"Daddy?" A small voice called out, as the Machine's eyes snapped up to the staircase in the house.
A small girl stood at the top of the staircase, wearing bright pink pyjama's and clutching a stuffed giraffe in her hand. The Machine's frown deepened as she watched the little girl's bottom lip wobble, tears beginning to well in her eyes. She had only been told to kill the scientist and no orders had arrived yet. Turning to face the child she slowly began to make her ascent up the stairs, her feet booming on every step. The child's eyes went wide, but she didn't move, only clutched at the stuffed toy in her hand harder.
"What…what happened to my Daddy?" The girl sobbed, as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"He died" The Machine told her, as the girl's face crumpled.
The Machine stopped three steps down from the girl, who had started to silently cry, more tears rolling down her cheeks, dripping onto the staircase. Something in her chest tightened.
"What am I going to do with you?" The Machine questioned, aloud.
No witnesses. Kill the girl.
The Machine had no weapon. Perhaps she should descend down the stairs and pick up the stake she used to kill the girl's father? No. Pushing her down the stairs would be easiest. She reached out, grabbing the child's shoulder, as the girl hugged her giraffe, looking up at her with big blue eyes. The Machine's hand began twitching again, as she saw she had stained the girl's arm with the blood of her father. This didn't seem…right. She pulled her hand away a second later, rubbing at the bloodstain on the girl's arm with her shirt.
"You are a child" The Machine murmured, as the girl slowly nodded through her tears.
"Children are vulnerable. Small. They should be…protected…" The Machine trailed off.
"Are you going to hurt me?" The girl questioned, in a shaky voice.
"No" The Machine shook her head, looking at her hand which was continuing to twitch.
"Machine!" A familiar voice boomed, as she twisted around.
Her handler stood by the doorway to the home, his gun raised in the air, an angry expression on his face. That was strange. This was her mission. Her handler was not supposed to be there. He was supposed to stay two streets away, so he was not caught on CCTV.
"Step away from the girl" Her handler ordered.
"…No" The Machine replied, after a few moments, shocking her handler.
"What the fuck did you say?" He gaped.
"Children should be protected" The Machine insisted, as her handler's lips turned up in a snarl.
Suddenly two bullets whizzed through the air, the child their target. Without a second's thought, the Machine moved in front of the bullets, as one lodged into her thigh and the other struck her stomach. Only one pierced her flesh, the bullet that hit her stomach had pinged off the metal that lay there. Pain radiated from her thigh causing the Machine to cry out, as blood seeped from the wound.
Pain?
This wasn't the electrical current sent down her spine that she was used to. She wasn't supposed to feel pain when she was injured. Was her inhibitor—
Another flurry of bullets was sent her way, as the Machine picked up the child and rushed along the landing. She threw the child into a nearby bedroom and yanked the doorknob away, effectively locking the girl inside. Another bullet hit her arm, this time just below her shoulder, making the Machine hiss.
"Stand down or the next one goes in your head" Her handler warned, but was cut off as the Machine threw the doorknob towards him.
The metal hit him in the stomach, winding him for a second, and in the blink of an eye, the Machine had shoved the gun away from his hand. Her handler attempted to strike her, but the Machine grabbed his hand, twisting it behind his back and shoving him into a nearby wall.
"What the hell are you doing, bitch?!" Her handler cried.
"You need to stop. The girl is not a threat" The Machine told him.
"I decide who is a threat, not you! You're just a Machine! You're nothing—" Her handler's sentence was cut off as her hands wrapped around his neck and twisted.
Her handler flopped in her arms, his head lolled to one side, no longer breathing. He was dead. She had killed her handler.
"N-no…no. I didn't…" The Machine stuttered, dropping him to the floor.
Her handler's eyes were still wide open, almost staring up at her accusingly. What had she done? What had she done?!
A few seconds later she heard shouting from the floor below, as she looked down to see police officers swarming the house, their guns raised at her. She dropped to her knees, her head falling into her hands as she tried to catch her breath. She would be de-commissioned for this. She would—
She came back to the present time all of a sudden, finding her new handlers both staring at her with a strange emotion behind their eyes. Concern? She looked down at her hands and saw that she had her flesh hand balled in a fist so tightly that her fingernails had cut into her flesh. This was bad. Very bad.
"I…I need Agent Rumlow" The Machine spoke up, despite knowing how angry this could make her new handlers.
"Why?" Steve frowned.
"He fixes me when I malfunction" The Machine stated.
"I don't think your malfunctioning. I think you're remembering" Steve pointed out.
"Which is exactly what we need you to do. Don't forget why we took this kid with us Steve" Natasha exclaimed, quirking an eyebrow, from where she was now leaning against the car.
"A mission?" The Machine asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.
"You destroyed a device earlier today. A USB drive. We need you to remember why and what was on it" Steve told her.
"I told you, data from the last 1143 hours is inaccessible. Your old, not deaf" The Machine huffed out, eyes going wide when she realised what she said.
What was wrong with her? Her handler would surely be offended. He would punish her and then—
Laugh?
The Machine stared at Steve in confusion as he seemed to fall into a fit of laughter, and even Natasha looked amused. The Machine's brow furrowed, not understanding what was so funny.
"She got you there, Rogers" Natasha smirked.
"I was being insubordinate…is that funny?" The Machine inquired, as Steve shook his head.
"No…no. It's just…you reminded me of someone" Steve admitted, a fond expression on his face.
So far her handler seemed to enjoy her doing inappropriate things. It was very confusing. Perhaps the punishment would come later? She needed to find a way to please him.
"…I may not be able to retrieve the data files, but if I downloaded this USB drive, the coordinates of where the data originated should still be stored in my CNS" The Machine announced.
"It's the best lead we'll get" Natasha nodded, as the Machine started searching immediately.
After a few tense moments, the Machine finally found the location and was able to give Black Widow the necessary coordinates. Her handlers' spirits appeared to be lifted now they had a destination in mind. That made the Machine…happy? They found a restaurant off the highway and managed to switch cars, knowing they would soon be stopped as a missing door on their vehicle wasn't exactly inconspicuous. They sped off down the motorway, but after only an hour her primary handler's stomach began to growl and they were forced to stop near a gas station.
"You can bet they'll have control of all CCTV. It won't be long until they find us if we go in there" Natasha pointed out, as Steve's brow furrowed.
"This is a non-issue" The Machine spoke up, as both handlers turned to look at her in the backseat.
"How'd you figure that?" Natasha scoffed.
Without saying another word, the Machine pulled down the car window and held her hand out, closing her eyes. She quickly found two cameras at the gas station, one at the front and one at the back, as the blue light from her metal palm got brighter. Steve flinched as he saw how the nearest camera suddenly started to spark, and all but exploded a second later. His jaw dropped open as he turned back to the girl, who pulled her hand back inside the vehicle.
"Like I said. A non-issue" The Machine repeated, watching a smile spread over Steve's lips.
"Well done" Steve exclaimed, as a strange warm feeling grew in the Machine's chest.
"I'll get us some food and water. If I'm not back in ten minutes, you go without me" Natasha announced, as Steve gave a quick nod.
"…You allow Black Widow to give you orders?" The Machine inquired, once the redhead had exited the vehicle.
"We're a team. We listen to each other" Steve shrugged, as the Machine mulled this over.
"My handlers aren't supposed to listen to me" The Machine stated.
"Well, that's stupid. You seem pretty resourceful to me" Steve pointed out, as the Machine found her lips twitching upward.
"…So, have you thought any more about a name? Because there's still no way I'm calling you 'The Machine'" Steve went on, a few moments later.
"I have no other name" The Machine frowned.
"You do. Your birth name. Don't you remember that?" Steve asked, as the Machine shook her head.
"Do you want me to tell you what it is?" Steve questioned, as the Machine shook her head, violently.
"Whatever I was before I was the Machine is not important" She insisted, as Steve gave her a sad look.
"That's not true," He said, softly.
"…There is another name I was called by a…soldier" The Machine admitted, as Steve ushered for her to continue.
"K-80. I was Experiment K-80. But this soldier had an accent sometimes and it sounded like a name. Katy" The Machine explained.
"I like it. Katy, it is" Steve agreed.
A memory quickly resurfaced as soon as her handler spoke, making the Machine frown. Her inhibitor must have been breaking down further—
She was cold. Freezing. The hospital staff had given her two blankets, but she didn't use them. Blankets were for handlers. Not for a Machine. When the police arrived after she had killed her handler, she was quickly taken it custody but blacked out soon after. When she woke, they told her she had been having seizures. That seemed strange. She didn't realise her body was capable of seizures. The Machine knew for sure now her inhibitor had been damaged because she was still…feeling things. Concern. What had happened to the little girl? Her head shot up when she heard a bang from outside her hospital room, as she immediately stood to her feet. She frowned when she realised the sound had come from outside the building. Gunshots. Quick succession. The gunman clearly knew how to use his weapon. The Machine had been expecting this. She had never run away from Hydra, but she had heard stories of people that did. They didn't get very far. She jumped backwards when a metal fist suddenly struck through the brick wall of her hospital room, as the wall started to crumble. Her eyes were wide as she watched a masked man step over the broken bricks, standing a little under six foot tall. There was silence as neither of them moved, the only sound from a few more bricks that crumbled to the ground. The Machine's eyes flickered to the man's metal arm, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. Was he…like her?
He suddenly marched forward, only a stopping a metre away from her, as she felt herself tense. Was this what fear felt like? The man wore a muzzle over his mouth, and dark goggles, completely shielding his eyes.
"Hail Hydra" The man exclaimed, his voice rough.
"Hail Hydra" The Machine replied, finding the words tasted bitter.
When did that happen? She was Hydra's weapon. Her handlers had always been Hydra. That meant she should have been loyal to the organisation. She flinched when the strange man held out his other hand which was donned in a black glove.
"Come" He insisted, his tone a little softer, as she nodded.
The masked man took her hand in his own and began pulling her out of the room, his palm surprisingly warm. He would take her back to Hydra. That was good…wasn't it?
The Machine shook her head as she forced herself out of the memory. Her mind may have been jumbled, but she could never forget the pain that followed from meeting the Winter Soldier. The pain that was inflicted on both of them. She found herself wondering where the man was now. Did he even remember what had happened between them?
"Hey, you okay?" Steve's voice broke through her thoughts.
"Yes, Captain" The Machine nodded.
Black Widow arrived a minute later, a bag of food and numerous bottles of water in both her hands. Steve immediately downed half a bottle of water, appearing very thirsty. The Machine's eyes narrowed as he then offered a bottle out to her.
"I only require water every twelve hours" The Machine informed him.
"You should drink. Hydrate" Steve told her, as she took it as an order.
She drank a few sips from the bottle before screwing the lid back on and ushering it towards him, making the blond frown.
"You should drink more, Captain. You're thirsty" The Machine insisted, with a thoughtful expression.
"Do you want something to eat?" Natasha asked, as the Machine mulled this over.
"I…I don't know" She replied, with a confused look.
"When was the last time you ate?" Steve inquired.
"Yesterday afternoon" The Machine informed him, as Steve let out a long sigh.
"Here. Eat" Steve commanded, holding out a protein bar, which the Machine was quick to open and began to nibble on.
Two minutes later they began to hear gagging sounds in the backseat, seeing the protein bar had been finished. The Machine's hand flew to her mouth as she pushed the car door open, feeling bile rise in the back of her throat.
"What's wrong?" Steve asked, quickly exiting the car, and rushing around to stand beside her.
"I am used to a liquid diet, Captain. My limbic system is also closely involved with the…I am going to throw up" The Machine blurted out, as Natasha grimaced from where she was still lounging in the front seat.
"I'll take her to the ladies" Steve exclaimed, quickly ushering the Machine towards the toilets he had spotted at the side of the gas station.
Steve stayed outside the singular toilet as he continued to hear the Machine vomiting, feeling guilt well up inside of him. He had told her to eat. He really had no idea what he was doing...he could barely look after himself, yet alone another person. Meanwhile, the Machine wiped at her face before flushing the toilet, with a grimace. She picked herself up, wanting to gag again at the sight of the dirty bathroom floor she had just been sitting on. She stumbled towards the basin, throwing some water over her face, as she shook her head. Was being disgusted an emotion—
A loud thud from outside had her head snapping up, her shoulders tensing as she turned towards the door. She heard a rustling sound from outside, and called out the Captain's name, but got no reply in response. She grabbed a piece of metal tubing that was connected to the basin, ripping it away from the wall and went to stand beside the doorway. Only a second later the door was pulled open, a shadow looming over the bathroom floor.
"Rookie?" A familiar voice called out, as the Machine felt her chest tighten again.
She immediately twisted around, stepping into the doorway to find Brock Rumlow on the other side, with Captain America now by his feet. There was a taser rod in one of his hands, which he turned off the moment he saw her. She could see how his shoulders slumped in relief when he saw her.
"Brock" The Machine mumbled, knowing how her previous handler liked it when she used his name.
Rumlow's lips twitched into a smile despite himself, as he took a step forward, looking her over for injuries. She had a nasty looking gash on her forehead and appeared to be limping a little, but she was still functioning. That was more than he had been expecting.
"Let's get you out of here" Rumlow announced, reaching out to touch her shoulder, as the Machine's brow furrowed.
What was she supposed to do?
Author's Notes: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for all the support I received on the first chapter, I really appreciate it! This will definitely be a Bucky/OC story, but I'm loving writing the Machine's interactions with all the other characters too. Is there anything, in particular, you guys would like to see? Please leave a review:)
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