(January 2, 1996)

The scream echoed through the darkened hallways, loudly enough to chill the blood in the veins of anyone even remotely capable of human kindness and empathy, but the men gathered around the slight form on the table hardly reacted at all. They stared at the girl, clad in nothing but a thin hospital gown, her wrists and ankles shackled to the table with thick leather straps. She was trying to fight those restraints, the material going taut as she tried and failed to break free. And although she begged-pleaded in harsh sobs for them to let her go, that there had been some sort of mistake-not a one of them moved to her assistance, instead content to sit back and watch as the man standing at the head of the table continued to poke and prod at her as though she were nothing more than a lab rat beneath his unreadable gaze.

She was a mission to be carried out, after all. Nothing more.

"Tighten the restraints."

The words echoed in the room, a steel-laced bark of authority that no one questioned. Two of the men nearest the young girl's arms complied with the directive, heedless of the soft whimper that their charge gave with each chafe of the leather cuff against her wrists. Ignoring that, they moved to do the same with the ones at her ankles, tightening them so that her legs were forced to straighten, unable to bend at the knee. She still struggled, attempting to get out of the harsh hold of the leather, despite the fact that doing so caused her arms to bend at an angle that put an uncomfortable amount of pressure on her elbows.

Or at least, she struggled until the man at the head of the table reached down to grip her jaw in a vice-like hold, his fingers squeezing until she emitted a high-pitched wail and stilled in seconds, flat.

"Be still, girl, or this will go worse for you."

The others in the room could see the fight going out of the girl, every muscle seeming to relax until she was nearly boneless on the cool metal of the table beneath her small frame. Her eyes, if they chose to look at them at all, glimmered and shone in the reflection of the fluorescent light hanging above her, magnifying the blue shade of the irises. But of course no one was truly willing to pay too much attention to anything other than the task at hand, and the sharp glint of something metallic in the hand of the man standing at the head of the table as he moved in closer, and brushed back a section of hair close to the girl's temple.

"Hold her hips."

One of the men beside the table moved to comply without question, a burly arm pressing down against the girl's midsection until she gasped out in surprise. It was clear the action had compromised her ability to take a complete breath, her chest straining under the sudden pressure against her waist and abdomen. But not a one of the men tasked with keeping her immobile seemed to care, their faces implacable even in the midst of her choking gasps. And as the man at the head of the table brought the glinting metal object in his hand close to the girl's temple, and began to slice into the vulnerable flesh, a strangled howl passed through her gritted teeth, until the pain became too much and she lost consciousness entirely.

Blood pooled beside her head, spreading until it touched a few strands of her hair, but the man cutting into her skin hardly paused at all, his attention completely zeroed in on the task at hand.

He was one of the leading neurosurgeons in the country, or at least he had been until a malpractice suit took him for everything he had, and now? Now, he was able to commit himself almost completely to the task of operating on a young girl, lacking anesthesia, of all things, without a second thought. He was being paid well for his efforts, after all, with the promise of more money, and a secure position among the ranks of the men standing beside him should he perform admirably. If the older man that had recruited him had spoken true, the girl on the table in front of him was only one of many that would be used for a purpose that even now, he still struggled to comprehend.

His name would go down in history if the girl fulfilled her destiny, and so he forced any and all misgivings away from his mind and fixed his eyes upon the blood trickling down the girl's pale skin, his teeth clenched as he finished with the small cut, and held out a hand for the device that would hopefully secure her obedience for the time to come.

If she was to proceed to the next stage in the program, success of this small step was crucial.

His survival all but depended upon it.

…

"You're letting me take you down. You can't do that. Try again."

Suppressing a frustrated groan, Cate hauled herself up from the mat, and swatted away the hand that had extended to help her to her feet, her entire body aching from the trials it had been put through, thus far. She was all but certain she would bear bruises from this little exercise, in particular on her collarbone, her hips, and a particularly nasty one that she could see already starting to peek out from beneath the hem of her shorts. But the man putting her through all of this hardly seemed to notice, and certainly did not care, if he had, his own stance settling back into the familiar poise of someone waiting for an attack as he shot her a half-smile, and quirked a brow before taunting her again.

"Come on, badass, show me what you've got."

"You do realize, if I was able to-"

"I know. You could hand my ass to me up, down, and sideways if you could use your little party trick. But you can't. So face me the best you can without it."

Doing what she could to manage a nod, Cate rolled her shoulders and flexed her fingers, her eyes narrowing as she eyed her would-be opponent in search of any potential weaknesses. Though she did not want to admit it, Cate soon found that the search was almost a futile one, every aspect of the man's outward appearance suggesting he held an advantage over her in nearly every respect. He was taller. Broader, and far more muscular than she could ever hope to be. But if she knew anything at all it was that she could use that difference in size to her own gain if she put her mind to it…

Her size also gave her speed, where his brawn might slow him down.

Determined to use that to her advantage, Cate spent only a moment considering her next move before she made it, her body angling to feign an attempt to get around the man entirely. As soon as she realized he had moved to mirror her action in an effort at stopping her, she weaved in the opposite direction, stealing around the man, and lifting a leg to aim a kick at the back of his knee. Of course, she ought to have predicted that her opponent would see such a thing coming, his body twisting to accommodate her sudden shift in position, while he simultaneously grabbed her ankle, and gave it a harsh tug. In seconds, she had tumbled to the ground once again, the breath leaving her lungs in a rush as she tried to scrabble backwards before the man could use her new position to his advantage. But regardless of how badly she wanted to break free, she could not entirely seem to release her ankle from the man's hold, her eyes meeting the dark brown of his own in time to catch the slight gleam in them before he was flipping her over, and moving to place his arm down against the small of her back to keep her pinned.

"What's your play, now?"

"Get the hell off of me," Cate hissed, squirming just enough to get an elbow free from its former position pinned beneath her, and ramming it back in the general direction of the man's temple, the sudden thud and grunt of surprise bringing a small grin to her lips as she wriggled out from beneath him, and hauled herself up to stand once more. Though her companion was clearly surprised by her sudden attack, he appeared to have recovered fairly quickly, springing back to his feet, and aiming a retaliatory jab at Cate's cheekbone in very nearly the same motion. She was able to dodge back, of course, though she knew that, if pattern held, he would only be likely to strike out at her again. And so, despite knowing that he could so easily turn the tables on her as he had already that day, Cate rushed forward, heading towards him, and aiming directly for his torso in hopes of toppling him backwards beneath her on the mat. But just as she had reached him, she found her momentum faltering, the bark of a familiar voice already diverting his attention, and garnering hers not long thereafter.

"Rumlow."

"Sir."

"How is she doing?"

"Better," The man-Rumlow-replied, glancing back towards Cate just in time to realize she had straightened, hands hanging loose at her sides, and her expression slack as she observed the man inquiring after her progress with no more interest than if he had not truly been asking after her at all, "Still needs work on getting herself out of reach from a larger attacker."

"And the device?"

"Functional."

"You disapprove," The older man commented, regarding his younger counterpart with a look that almost dared him to confirm his spoken suspicion, though his words were as even as ever when he spoke once again, "She needs to learn to function outside of her more unique abilities."

"And she is. But the device isn't humane."

"Neither is what she can do to you if provoked, Rumlow. You know that."

"I doubt she would hurt me, sir."

"Then you have proven you do not know her nearly as well as I do."

A faint twitch of the lips was the only signal the older man gave at the way in which his companion had fallen silent, his attention now turning to the young woman standing beside him in order to take in any outward sign of injury. Already, dark bruising marred the skin against her clavicle, her right bicep, and another mark peered out from beneath the hem of her shirt just above her hip. She bore a cut above her left eye, as well, though the blood had already congealed and she seemed to hardly notice it at all. In spite of all of that, however, she stood almost defiantly erect, her expression slack as her blue eyes regarded him with only the mildest flickers of interest. Only lingering upon her features for a moment, the older man allowed his gaze to track down to the device cinched around her neck, a faint red glow signifying it was ready to intervene should it detect any hint of her attempting to gain an advantage through any means other than sheer physical prowess alone. And it was not long before he was once again turning to face his subordinate, his expression curious, to say the least, as he proceeded with his intended line of questioning as though he had never glanced Cate's way at all.

"When will she be ready for the next phase?"

"Soon."

"You should be sure, Rumlow. I won't risk her continued use to our cause by setting her against the Winter Soldier before she is ready."

"I am sure," Rumlow pressed, aware of Cate's blue eyes widening slightly in surprise as they drifted his way, though he gave her only a passing glance in return, "She'll be ready."

"I'm going to hold you to that," The older man quipped, sliding both hands inside the pockets of his suit, and allowing his attention to stray back towards the woman in question before going on, "Miss Beckett, with me. Now."

Ignoring the weight of the man she now knew as Rumlow's eyes as she passed him by and followed along after their older companion, Cate moved along at a steady pace, her gaze fixed on the greyish-red hair at the back of his head as though instinct had drawn it there without her having any say on the matter at all. In truth, she was nothing short of reeling over what he had mentioned. Pitting her against the man who had been a partner more often than not, and likely without her having any sort of advantage at all in the process seemed laughable, even though Cate knew full well that admitting to such a thing would only bring her more trouble than she already appeared to have. She had seen the Winter Soldier in action. She knew what he was capable of.

Given her performance against this Rumlow without any means of using her enhanced abilities, Cate suspected that against an even stronger opponent, she would not stand a chance.

Her lips thinned in response to the thought, and a coil of dread wound its way around her heart, though she was careful not to allow any of that to make its way into her expression as she continued following after her companion until they reached a corner and turned in a direction she could not recall ever having gone before. For a moment, she could almost forget her misgivings over what was to come, in favor of attempting to riddle out exactly where her companion was set on taking her. He had not said a word to her directly, and she knew better than to try and get him to speak if he seemed in a particularly pensive mood. But of course her curiosity persisted, giving speed to her footsteps so that when they neared the end of the new corridor, she was very nearly shoulder to shoulder with the man who led her here, instead of following along at his back.

As soon as she saw what rested behind the door her companion had just opened, however, she wished she could have somehow found a way to turn tail and head back in the opposite direction.

"I was watching you with Rumlow, you know," The man informed, watching Cate's reaction carefully as she stepped past him and entered the room they had arrived at, her eyes absolutely riveted upon the bulk of the familiar object immediately to her right.

"What is this?"

"A change in plans," Her companion uttered, noting the flicker of uncertainty that had suddenly made itself known upon her features, and lifting a brow as she finally tore her gaze away from the dark metallic outline of the chair, and directed it towards him, instead, "You are thinking too much, Miss Beckett. Calculating and planning your moves when you need to act on instinct alone."

"And you-you brought me here, because?"

"Because I think I have a way to rid you of that troublesome little quirk. And I think you know, deep-down, that this is the only thing that will work."

Swallowing past the constriction fear forced into her throat, Cate turned back towards the machine her companion seemed to hold so much hope for, her heart thundering against her ribcage as swatches of memory rocketed through her mind like a wildfire. A man, strapped to the chair, while sparks flashed between the plates on either side of his head. Horrible, gut-wrenching screams as those plates descended, and made contact with flesh. Searing pain, ricocheting between her own temples when she was still just a little girl, that had her clawing at the thin scar just below her hairline in an obviously futile attempt to rid herself of the sensation entirely.

Cate knew what that chair was. And she had every reason to believe that what was coming would be so much worse than anything she had experienced thus far, her feet managing a single, faltering step backwards before she felt the cool metal of a gun pressed against the back of her neck.

"Sit down, Miss Beckett."

Before Cate had any hope of objecting, she became aware of the dull thud of other footsteps moving into the room behind her, the familiar shifting of weapons from holsters to hands causing a prickle of fear to dance along her spine. She could not hope to get past all of them without a scratch. Not with the contraption circling her neck, that was starting to feel more and more like a shackle the longer she wore it. But before she could decide whether or not she wanted to risk such a thing, regardless of the cost to her own well-being, Cate was being prodded forward by the sudden weight of a calloused hand resting upon her shoulder, her feet stumbling a bit as she realized with growing dismay that she had been flanked in the wake of her own distraction, and the only way in which to move was towards the very thing she wished to avoid.

Gritting her teeth, Cate squared her shoulders, and jutted out her chin, defiance making her head spin as she resolved to appear as brave on the surface as she could. It was a small gesture, she knew, given that she had every reason to believe she would be screaming in mere moments, flat. But given that she had already witnessed another meeting the same fate, with none of her outward hesitation prior to falling prey to those metal plates, Cate forced herself to cling to the memory like a lifeline, her fingers curling into fists as she took the steps leading up to the chair as steadily as she could, and turned to take a seat while the entire contraption whirred to life around her…

"With luck, Miss Beckett, this will only make you better," The older man said, the sound of his voice making her jump in spite of her desire to avoid it as he watched the other men strapping her down with an almost rabid fascination coloring his features, "And if not, well-you have served your purpose well."

Whether Cate wanted to protest or not, the effort was rather effectively stalled by one of the men that had just secured a tight leather strap about her waist ramming a hunk of plastic between her teeth, a sharp crackling sound freezing her in place as the man stepped away, and she felt the cool hiss of metal framing itself around her face.

After that, she only had a split second to hear her own agonized scream, before the room went dark, and she knew no more.

…

Hello, angels! And welcome to a brand new chapter in Cate's tale! I am so, so excited to continue working on this (and because obviously I am crazy, I'm already cooking up a Cap/OC story as well, so stay tuned for that!) So I hope that I am not alone in my excitement, because I promise, the madness does not end here! (*commences evil cackling*)

As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that has taken the time to read, follow, favorite and review this story so far (and special thanks to phoward for yet another lovely comment for chapter two!) I truly do appreciate the support, more than any of you know, and as usual I cannot wait to hear what you think this time around!

Until next time, darlings…

MOMM

PS-I hope I didn't make Cate *too* vulnerable when she was sparring with Rumlow. It struck me as something Pierce may want to do, to remove her "extra" abilities and test her on her more human capabilities instead, to make sure she was up to par for HYDRA's standards on both accounts. I promise, she's only going to get better as time goes on! And I hope I'm not the only one eager for her eventual sparring with the Winter Soldier, himself! I'm a bit nervous to write all of that out, as I'm way less than confident as far as it pertains to my ability to write an action scene. But I hope that I manage to do it justice, and to see all of you along for the ride as well!