Disclaimer. I do not own anything except for any original characters.

Abby can remember vividly the first time she got drunk. She had been 18 and had been out celebrating her birthday with some friends. They had been able to score convincing fake ID's and had gone bar hopping all throughout Malibu. The next day she had woken up feeling like her head was caving in. It didn't help that her father was blasting every hard rock song known to mankind throughout the house on full blast. In that moment, she had sworn off ever drinking again. Of course, that didn't last long when she turned 21.

As she groggily came too, she came the realization that being knocked out cold felt oddly like a bad hangover. There was a constant pounding against her skull as her eyes struggled to open. When she was finally able too, she saw she was in an armored vehicle. She squirmed, trying to sit up a bit more when she felt the metal of the cuffs still digging into her wrists, noticing they were now in the front.

"Looks like Sleeping Beauty's finally awake." Abby turned her head, the blurry image of Brock Rumlow coming into clarity from his seat across from her. "Afraid I might have hit your head a bit too hard there."

"Hate to disappoint but you hit like a bitch." Abby groaned, feeling the tightness of her cheek. From what she could feel, she had no broken bones, but the tightness did indicate swelling.

Rumlow laughed shaking his head. "God you Starks just don't know when to shut up huh. Anyone ever tell you that mouth could get you killed baby doll." Leaning towards her, he patted her cheek mockingly, wincing as his hand made contact with her bruised face.

"Oh go fuck yourself meathead." She muttered, instantly regretting it when his hand came down hard on her cheek again, splitting open the fresh cut.

After a few moments of silence, the vehicle finally pulled to a halt at their destination. The back door opened as the occupants filed out. Rumlow grasped Abby's arm, hauling her out behind him. Abby looked around her surroundings, trying to figure out where she was exactly. The rundown buildings didn't give her much to go on. It looked like they were near some old factories of some sort, but she had no idea where to place them. She wasn't even sure they were still in D.C.

"Come on move it." Brock barked, dragging her off and towards one of the buildings. Nothing seemed out of place, the interior filled with broken down beams, trash strewn about and old machinery sat dormant, covered in rust and mildew. It wasn't until they made it towards the back that she saw something that didn't belong. One lone elevator, the doors shiny and pristine, standing out from the old building it was housed in.

They piled into the elevator, Rumlow entering some kind of code on the touchpad before the doors closed and they were suddenly plunging down. If it hadn't been for her captor's firm grip, she would have stumbled straight to the floor.

When the elevator finally came to a stop, the metal doors opened, revealing a command center. Abby surveyed her surroundings as Brock pulled her behind him. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought she was stepping into S.H.I.E.L.D. Hell, she even saw a few badges as people strolled around and worked at computers. But she caught sight of the hydra symbol, the angry red octopus displayed proudly.

"Miss Stark good to see you again." Abby's eyes turned to slits as she turned to the new voice. Alexander Pierce strode forward, a few others following behind him. A calm smile graced his face, as if he weren't a two-faced traitor. "What do you think of our little set up?"

"Looks like shit honestly." Brocks hand moved to the back of her neck squeezing tightly causing Abby to wince. Piece moved his hand up, the grip loosening, Rumlows hand however remaining. "What the hell am I doing here?"

"Well we can't just have you running around trying to get in contact with Captain Rogers or your father for that matter. We've worked too hard on Project Insight. Tony would hate all of his hard work to go to waste." She lunged at the mention of her father and she would have strangled Pierce if it hadn't been for Rumlows hold.

"Don't you talk about him! If he knew exactly what all this was, he would have stopped you, all of you." she seethed. Her outburst hadn't even seemed to faze him, the smile still prevalent on his face. A set of doors at the far end of the hall opened, a guard rushing in and over to Pierce, whispering something to him. From his body language, Abby could sense it was something urgent. Pierce nodded, the guard rushing back the way he came. He turned back to Rumlow and Abby, his smug smile still in place.

"How much of your father do you have in you Abigail?"


A shiver ran through her body. She wasn't sure if it was from the chill of the hallway or from the fear that was now slowly creeping in. She knew the adrenaline she had been riding on would soon come crashing down and she tried to push that off as much as she could. She needed to keep her head on straight for as long as she could to come up with a plan.

"...knocked Jones clear across the room. He's alive but he won't be programing anything for a while." The man in a lab coat rattled off as he walked alongside Pierce. Abby had tried to keep up with the conversation, what she could get was something, or someone, needed tending to.

"That is where are guest will come in." As if remembering she was there Pierce turned his gaze on Abby. "I admired your tech skills Miss Stark. So did Fury." She tensed when he mentioned the deceased director. "Nick was quite fond of you if.."

"Don't talk about him." she hissed, glaring a hole into the back of his head as the group kept moving.

He ignored her. "Are Asset needs his arm recalibrated. It seems we miscalculated how powerful Captain Rogers shield truly was. It should be no problem for a Stark."

Asset. The name rolled around her head, trying to remember where she had heard it. She knew she had, the name sounding too familiar. It would have been given sometime in the last few hours, when she was being briefed by Natasha and Steve, when they had spoken of..

Abby's feet faltered when it finally clicked. The Asset they spoke of was the Winter Soldier. The assassin who had killed Fury, who had tried to kill her friends, who had killed her grandparents.

"It's alright sweetheart, maybe he'll take a liking to you and not crush your skull." Rumlow laughed as he continued to haul her down to what could most likely be her death.

The group continued, Abby noticing the increase in guards the further they went. Yeah this wasn't making her feel any safer. They finally came to a stop outside a room, the guard stepping aside and letting the group pass. The room looked like a regular waiting area, one she would typically see in a cop show, a place where detectives would gather to observe their perp. There were a few other people in lab coats, taking down notes and typing away at laptops. The far-right wall was all window, most likely a two-way mirror. Abby tried to get a closer look, noticing for some odd reason it resembled some kind of vault.

As if on autopilot she moved closer to the window, realizing Brock had released his hold on her arm. She stepped up to the glass, finally getting a good look at the man that sent a shot of fear through her body.

He was set up in a chair, something that resembled some diabolical dentist's chair. Black metal restraints wrapped around the flesh of his right arm, another band across his shirtless chest. He was naked from the waist up, his chest rising and falling as he took in a ragged breath. His head was hung, dark hair falling around like a black curtain. Finally, her eyes moved to the gleaming metal of his left arm. She had listened as Steve and Natasha described the arm but finally seeing it with her own eyes was a different experience altogether. The metal gleamed under the fluorescents of the lights above. It looked solid and smooth, the metal contrasting with the bright red star displayed proudly on the shoulder. She wondered briefly what type of metal it was made of when the assassin, almost as if he sensed he was being observed, finally lifted his head.

Abby had never felt what it was like to get a punch to the gut but this was probably the closest she would ever come. She felt as if all the air from her lungs were taken, her cuffed hands moving to find purchase on a nearby chair. A concussion, that was the only thing she could think of. Rumlow must have hit her harder than she initially thought and now she was in some concussion induced fever dream. That was the only thing that made sense with what she was seeing through the glass.

"B-Bucky Barnes?"