Chapter 6: Strings and Observations

The next couple of days I lived in the Med Bay of the USSR headquarters getting all sorts of tests run on me. At first, I wasn't too bothered by it, I wasn't being tortured between blood draws and reflex tests, so that was a plus in my book. Then the tests and examinations started to get a little more serious and a lot more complicated.

I did a physical test where I ran on a sort of treadmill device and wore a strange mask. All it did was point out my obvious problem with asthma, and they made sure I was equipped with some sort of inhaler to help with it. They took x-rays, measurements, and scans of my right hand, paying close attention to the area containing my stitches, and how my bones were arranged. When asked about it, I refused to answer.

"You can take the x-rays and measurements all you like, but I can't tell you anything else." I snapped angrily after being asked for the millionth time who or what had performed the intricate surgery. And to be honest, I really couldn't tell them anything since it all happened when I was a baby.

I was measured, weighed, and measured again, with the numbers always being recorded. When it became obvious that there wasn't anything physically gifted with me, the doctors and researchers moved on to mental capacities. From there, I didn't know which set of tests were worst.

I was given test after test in various subjects like math, reading, history, and science. I knew that I rocked the reading and writing portion, as that was my main focus of study in college. I also particularly enjoyed the math sections, as I was just now getting better in math. In high school, it had been my worst subject. In college, I was deciding to minor in it along with English. Aside from the typical school subjects, I was given puzzles and riddles which I did to the best of my ability, though I had no idea how I did.

I was kept company by Peggy, Howard (when he wasn't leading the tests), Bucky, and Steve on a running rotation. I enjoyed my time with everyone, but more so with Bucky and Steve. We usually managed to escape the mundane tests and hide somewhere in the facility to play cards. I taught them Egyptian Rat Screw, and totally owned them game after game. When Colonel Phillips finally caught on with what was happening, he barred the two men from seeing me, limiting my time to only Peggy and Howard.

At the end of the third day of testing I was done. I did not want to do any more tests and was planning on refusing to leave the medical room when they came and got me. Which is why I was mildly surprised when Colonel Phillips arrived after dinner instead of a doctor.

"Colonel Phillips," I saluted him respectfully.

"At ease, kid." He replied as he looked over my chart and then up at me. "Have you ever fired a weapon?"

The question caught me a little off guard and I stammered a little in my answer. "Um, well, not really. I've shot BB guns when camping, but not an 'official' gun." I said, air quoting the word "gun."

"Well, come with me."

The Colonel led me through the facility to an indoor shooting range where several soldiers and scientists were testing weapons. Howard Stark was there, taking observations on a clipboard. He saw us come in and raised an eyebrow in silent question. No one stepped up to answer as Phillips led me to the last stall of the range and unholstered his own personal pistol.

"Take this and shoot the target." He ordered, flipping off the safety and handing me the weapon.

I swallowed hard and gingerly took the gun out of his hand. I fiddled with the grip a little so that it felt comfortable in my hand. I looked up and saw a circular bullseye way across the room. I chewed my bottom lip as I raised the weapon and took aim.

A calm, quiet feeling descended on my then as I looked at the target along the barrel of the gun. The longer I stared, the more something strange started happening in my vision. Tiny blue strings seemed to swirl around the target in a slow circle. It was like the strings were connected to my sight, and they helped me to zero in on the exact center of the bullseye. When it had been found and I felt confident about it, the string tightened into straight lines, and my brow furrowed. When that happened, I fired the pistol once and then lowered it.

The bang that emitted when I shot was loud and hurt my ears. I winced as the ringing seemed to echo inside my head and around me. A hole appeared in the exact center of the bullseye, Colonel Phillips went up to it and inspected it closely.

"Is that the first time you've shot a gun?" He called back in question, leaning in to see the shot through the target.

"Y-Yes sir!" I called back.

Colonel Phillips said nothing as he looked back at me and then at the target. He took it down and put another one up on the pole. It still looked like a bullseye, but there were X's marked in specific sections. Some of the X's were large, others small. He jogged back to me, took the pistol to load more bullets into it, and then handed it back to me.

"Hit the X's." He commanded firmly.

I nodded and assumed the same stance as I had taken before. I focused on the first X in the upper left part of the target. I let the same calm, quiet feeling wash over me again, and took a deep breath. I watched the same blue strings spiral around the X and then tighten. I fired, looked to my next X and fired again. There were five X's, and when I finished, I lowered the gun and looked to Colonel Phillips. By now, Howard was standing behind us, watching too.

"You've never gone hunting or anything like that before?" Phillips asked, squinting down at the target.

"No, sir. I've been camping, but never hunting." I said matter-of-factly.

My father had always taken the stance that the men go hunt and the women stay home. It wasn't a sexist sort of thing. Had I have pushed; I probably would have gone hunting with my dad and brothers growing up. Instead, they left and my mom, twin sister, and I would go out to dinner or out to the movies. Their guys weekend was our girls weekend, and we never felt left out of anything.

Phillips had gone down and grabbed the two targets, muttering to himself as he brought them back for closer inspection.

"You hit the centers all on the dot. How are you doing that?" He asked me, his eyes narrowed.

I didn't know what to tell him, but I knew he wasn't angered or annoyed by it. In fact, I could tell that he was highly curious, as he might have found the one thing Schmidt had been looking for in me. I told him the only theory I had: the blue strings that swirled around until the tightened up, letting me know I could shoot. Phillips scoffed a little but decided to test out my theory anyways.

A variety of weapons were brought down to me to test my theory. Target after target, gun after gun, I fired at various points or drawn marks on the paper. With every style of gun I fired, I started to feel odd. I didn't like the tingle each shot left in my hands, and at random times I imagined seeing dead bodies, more particularly Conrad's. By the time I was done, I was getting sick of guns in general.

"Every time, bullseye or right in the center of the mark." Howard mused aloud as Phillips brought back the latest target. We were the only three people in the shooting range now, as everyone else had cleared out when their own testing had finished.

"I don't like guns." I admitted, wringing my hands together. Phillips looked aghast, until he saw my face and then sobered slightly.

"How about a knife?" Howard rushed away and brought back a long throwing knife with a small hilt. I took it and thought about it for a moment. I was reminded of the anime character Naruto in my reality and smiled at the thought.

I was coached on how to throw the knife and then took my spot in front of the bullseye. Howard went and put up a new target, and I waited until he was safely behind me. I held the knife in my left hand and narrowed my eyes on the target. The blue strings returned, this time narrowing down a little more, and I wondered if it was because of the type of weapon I was using.

The knife felt strangely right in my hand, like it belonged there, and I had done this sort of thing before. I liked it a lot better than all the guns I had shot through. I watched the swirling strings until they tightened, and I threw the knife with all my strength. It twirled through the air and tore through the target, lodging itself in the wall behind it.

"That was so cool!" I punched the air and grinned from ear to ear. Throwing the knife had been far more exhilarating than any of the guns.

"You ever throw a knife before?" Colonel Phillips asked in disbelief.

"Never!" I said excitedly.

Both his and Howard Stark's mouths dropped open in surprised O's. I laughed at them.

"You guys look like fish!"

XXXX

When it was revealed that I was suddenly a good marksman, and had never been before, the tests and examinations changed drastically. I was run through obstacle courses and other physical training. It was a funny thing since in my reality I could hardly take two steps without falling on my face or rolling one of my ankles. Here, though, I found that I could move with more fluidity; I dodged obstacles like falling obstacles and projectiles and throw knives with deadly precision. The only thing that kept me back was my asthma, which was still very much real to me. I didn't really think that was fair. Could that strange Watcher not have taken care of that, so I didn't wheeze and gasp for breath after every exercise? I was determined to have him answer that for me the next time I saw him.

I still had to be poked and prodded along with the physical exercise. After every training I was sent to a medical room where machines were hooked up to me and observations were made. Sometimes there were needles, as more blood was taken, or something was injected into me. I tried to be a good sport with it all, but after a week of doing the same thing and finding the same answers, I was getting tired of it all. One day, I had enough and decided to put my foot down.

"No," I told Howard as he came into my new room at the USSR headquarters.

"What?" He looked mildly confused, and a little helpless.

The room we were in was my designated quarters within the building. It was a nice room with a comfortable bed and other amenities. Peggy had brought in a small table and placed flowers on it daily, to brighten the space. Today there were daisies in the blue vase, and they were lovely.

"I've done the same thing for the past week. Also, I hate needles." I said matter-of-factly. I had stood up when Howard entered my room, and now I huffed back onto my bed, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Really? You hate needles?" Howard asked sarcastically.

"Why do I need to keep doing the same thing over and over again?" I asked him. "What will dodging a punch or throwing a knife for the millionth time tell you that the other tests didn't?"

Howard thought this over for a moment. He nodded his head in agreement and sighed. "I know, I've gotten all the information I needed, but Phillips wants more tests. Not me, I promise."

"I know, you could never really be the bad guy, Mr. Stark." I told him as he left the room.

My heart ached a little at the statement, as I knew that Stark Industries would lead to a lot of problems later in this life. I had to keep that to myself though and I tried to forget it by burying the feeling away. I didn't have much time to distract myself when not five minutes later Colonel Phillips stormed in followed by Peggy Carter.

"What's this about refusing to complete these tests?" Phillips demanded. I leaned over a little to see past Phillips and Carter. Howard stood outside my room, looking a little flustered.

"I'm not doing the tests. You guys have enough information, I'm sore and," I nudged my head back towards Howard. "If Stark comes at me with another needle, I'm giving him a black eye."

Howard looked aghast, but Phillips said nothing. His face was red with anger; my heartbeat picked up a little in panic, and it was then that I realized that I couldn't remember the last time I had had a panic attack like this. It was amazing, since I had lived almost every day of the past year with my heart rate being at a panic all the time.

Here, in this reality, I had felt comfortable, safe, and protected. With my new realization, I knew that it was going to be easier to pinpoint the reasons for my anxiety, and they might happen more often. I couldn't marvel too long about this as Phillips huffed and looked to Peggy for some sort of backup to his side of the argument. When she didn't offer any advice or answer, he turned back to me.

"Well, you can't leave." He told me. "You're in our care, and we don't know what Schmidt has planned for you yet."

"Can I go outside for a walk or something?" I asked hopefully. Even though the tests and observations had been fun for a little bit, I had been inside for an awfully long time. Being outside and getting fresh air was all I wanted right then.

"Negative." Phillips snapped. He turned and left the room briskly, pushing aside Howard who turned and followed after him.

I deflated a little and shook my head in frustration. Peggy gave me a reassuring smile and sat down next to me on my bed.

"He means well," She explained. "We really don't know what lengths Schmidt will go to get you back into his hands."

I sighed and nodded. I knew that I really did. I didn't want to know how badly Schmidt wanted to get me back. I couldn't imagine what convoluted plan he would enact to do so. I thought back to Captain America: The First Avenger, and at the beginning of the movie. Schmidt had crashed through the door of an old church to demand the Tesseract from a poor old man. After saying he would spare the man's family and town if he got what he wanted, Schmidt did the exact opposite. He was a ruthless man, and I needed to remember that. I may not have seen his full ruthlessness at the factory, but it was there, brewing beneath the surface.

"Does that mean Bucky and Steve can play cards with me again?" I asked Peggy out of nowhere.

"Shall I go get them?" She winked at me and I nodded vigorously.

When Peggy returned with just Bucky, my heart skipped a beat. He looked much better than when we had first met at the factory. He had a healthy glow to his face, and he wore his military uniform proudly. He brought in a chair with him and plotted it down as I pulled the side table a little closer to my bed.

"Captain Rogers and I have been requested for a briefing." Peggy explained before leaving the room again.

It's just going to be me and Bucky, I thought as a new wave of anxiety washed through me. It wasn't the normal end-of-the-world anxiety I was used to having. It was just nerves about being left alone with Bucky.

"Long time no see, Blue!" Bucky said as I handed him the deck of cards to shuffle.

"Blue?" I gave him a funny look and he laughed.

"That's what Dugan has all the guys calling you now. He forgot your name but remembered the color of your socks when you guys met." Bucky gave me a sly smile and I rolled my eyes.

Despite that, I felt my cheeks heat up slightly in a blush. I had no idea where those bright blue socks had disappeared to. I had completely forgotten about them in my new life in England.

"I don't know if I should be flattered or embarrassed." I muttered.

Bucky chuckled as he dealt the cards, and we began our usually game of Egyptian Rat Screw. For the first round we said nothing as we played. Our eyes were locked on the cards being slapped down fiercely on the tabletop. When a double flashed, the strings in my vision suddenly appeared and tightened quickly, and I slapped my hand down.

"Whoa!" Bucky leaned away and looked up at me. "I see now why everyone's been talking about you."

I stared at him apprehensively. What did he mean by that?

"You moved so fast," He explained. "Your hand was a blur."

I understood what he was talking about. "When I focus I can see these blue strings sort of swirling around a target. When they tighten up, I know that's when I should strike or something." I told him softly.

Bucky considered what I told him and nodded. He remained silent for a long time, and I wondered what he was thinking about.

"That's the kind of skill we need out in the field." He said confidently. "We need to test it out in the elements."

"Test it?" I smiled and shook my head. "Well, you're out of luck because I found out I won't be going outside for the foreseeable future. Colonel's orders." I picked up the cards from the pile and tapped them into the rest of my deck.

When I looked back up at Bucky, a mischievous grin had spread over his face. He pointed at me and then clapped his hands together before bounding up onto his feet. He turned and headed out the door.

"Wait! Where are you going?" I stepped off my bed and grabbed his arm, stopping him mid step.

He grinned at me, making my heart flip once more. His smile was radiant, and his eyes sparkled with it.

"Tonight, I'm going to find a way to take you out!" I gasped slightly and let go of his arm, and he went speeding down the hallway.