Chapter 1
I hear the train a-comin', it's rolling 'round the bend
And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when
-Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash
Warnings for lots of feels, panic attacks, self-harm, non-graphic sexual assault, The Raft being a horrible place, Hydra being evil, violence, and a lot of swearing in various languages. I will have specific content warnings for each chapter. Please be kind to yourselves!
I use good ol' Google Translate for all languages other than English, so please forgive me if they aren't the best translations.
I took some liberties with language. As Sokovia is a fictional place, there is no Sokovian language. So for the purpose of my story, Sokovians speak Slovak.
"Эй, Ванда, ты не спишь? [Hey Wanda, are you awake?] "
Clint Barton leaned his forearms against the glass of his cell, eyes on the huddled form of the woman in the cell across from him. Wanda sat on the floor against the wall, her arms bound in that fucking straight jacket. The collar around her neck flashed its warning red light. Her head was dropped almost to her chest with her limp red hair shielding her face. She hadn't moved since the guards had returned her from wherever they'd taken her.
She didn't acknowledge that she'd heard him.
Clint leaned his forehead against the glass and watched her, rage and worry burning in his chest like acid. They'd been imprisoned on the raft for 23 days. He had no idea if Stark had kept his promise to help Rogers and Barnes. He had no idea if the three of them were alive. He had no idea if anyone had told Laura where he was or if his kids were safe. But most urgently, he had no idea where the guards kept taking Wanda every few days.
Based on how she was slowly becoming a hollow shell of a human, he had a few guesses. None of them were good. Clint swore low and viciously under his breath.
"What's going on?" Sam's voice came from two cells to his right.
The prison cells were in a large oval. Wanda was directly across from Clint, when she wasn't stuck in solitary confinement. Scott was to the right of Clint and Sam to the right of Scott. Scott could see half of Wanda's cell, but Sam couldn't see any of them and they couldn't see Sam either.
"Wanda's still not responding." Came Scott's voice, uncharacteristically grave.
The first time she'd been taken from her cell, she'd demanded answers from the guards. When they didn't answer, she'd turned terrified eyes to Clint, Scott, and Sam, silently begging for help. The guards hadn't responded to the three men's shouts and threats either, and they'd been forced to wait for them to bring Wanda back. When she'd returned, pale and shaky, she'd insisted that they'd just run several tests on her powers. But every few days, Wanda would be taken again, and each time she had less and less to say about it.
"Wanda?" Sam's voice was gentle. "Are they hurting you?"
Clint watched the young woman carefully, but she still didn't respond.
"Ванда, они тебе больно? [Wanda, are they hurting you?] " Clint asked in Russian. They had initially spoken in Russian to annoy the guards and occasionally Sam and Scott, but now it seemed to be the only language that she responded to.
Wanda's head rolled towards him and Clint's heart constricted painfully in horror. Her eyes were barely open and unfocused, her cheeks wet with tears. The side of her face that he could see was covered in slowly darkening bruises. Her lip was swollen and bleeding. He'd seen the way some of the guards had looked at her, like she was nothing more than a piece of meat.
He heard Scott relaying Wanda's injuries to Sam, who swore furiously.
"Ванда, пожалуйста, поговори со мной. [Wanda, please talk to me.] " Clint pleaded.
Wanda's brow furrowed slightly and she seemed to be struggling to lift her head off the reinforced glass wall. Realization dawned on Clint with a wave of fury.
"She's drugged!" He snarled.
There was a dull thud as though Sam had driven his fist into the wall.
"You won't get away with this!" Sam yelled. "Do you hear me, Ross? You will fucking pay for this!"
There was no answer from the room upstairs.
Clint sat on his bunk, his head in his hands.
Sam had advised him to sit and breathe for a while, but he wasn't sure it was doing any good. It had been 52 days of imprisonment on The Raft. Nearly two months of being helpless to protect Wanda as she was tortured and abused. Clint felt like a frayed bowstring, ready to snap at any second. Ross hadn't laid a finger on him, Sam, or Scott. The guards didn't beat them or starve them or worse . They didn't need to. Ross was very aware that forcing all three men to see Wanda being tortured into a ghost of herself was torture enough. Clint had no doubt that even their cell placement had been strategic. Ross wasn't on The Raft often, but when he was he loved to quote The Accords at them, especially the parts where Wanda as an "enhanced individual" had no rights in the prison. The worst part was that from what they could tell, Ross wasn't even torturing Wanda for information. According to her, they never asked about Rogers or Barnes. It was like they were just doing it for fun.
Wanda was in her usual corner, hunched over like she was trying to be as small as possible. She never slept on her bunk and Clint didn't blame her. The guards tended to come in swinging with those damn electric batons. They had brought her back about an hour ago, dragging her as she tried to keep up with them and wrenching her head back by her hair so she was forced to look at them when they taunted her. She hadn't made a sound. She rarely did anymore. When she was awake, he and Sam and Scott tried their hardest to engage her, make her smile, and keep her spirits up. But fuck. It was like trying to stop a flood with a little plastic bucket. Sometimes she woke up screaming, but even that was becoming rare. Clint knew it wasn't cause she'd stopped having nightmares cause he'd seen her multiple times jerk awake, her mouth open in a soundless scream of terror.
It was slowly wearing them all down. He often heard Scott crying quietly in his bunk at night. Sam had apparently punched the wall enough times in his cell that there was a permanent blood stain there. Clint couldn't see it, but he believed it. Clint had done his fair share of punching the wall and crying in the dark. All of them were itching for a fight. They'd tried taunting the guards, trying to get their attention on one of them, but they always took it out on Wanda.
"Clint." Scott's voice called.
"Yeah?" Clint grunted without looking up.
"What's the first thing you're gonna eat when we get out of here?"
Clint lifted his head to see that Wanda was awake. She hadn't moved from the corner, but she'd turned her head so that it was resting on her knees and facing towards them. Her dark eyes were bloodshot, but they were open. Well, mostly. Her left eye was so swollen and bruised it didn't open all the way.
Clint gave her a soft smile, not surprised when she didn't return it. He forced himself to perk up a little, trying for a little normalcy. "Pizza." He answered. "A true New York slice."
Scott made an appreciative sound. "I'm thinking ice cream. Mint chocolate chip on a waffle cone."
Sam groaned. "You guys are killin' me. None of those answers are right."
Wanda's eyes looked a tiny bit brighter as she followed their conversation. This had become their unspoken pact. As soon as one of them noticed she was awake, they would have a ridiculous conversation about something trivial. It seemed to raise her spirits just a little, and it was one of the only things they could do.
"There's no right answer." Scott scoffed.
"You only say that cause you've never had Louisiana ribs."
"I've had 'em. I just think Texas ribs are better." Clint lied knowing Sam would lose his shit.
Sure enough, Sam lost his shit and treated them all to a long rant about the holiness of Louisiana barbeque. It even brought a tiny smile to Wanda's face.
Clint bolted upright in the darkness.
He wasn't sure what had woken him, but his adrenaline was pumping. He threw off the pathetic prison blanket and crept to the glass wall. The cells were lit with a dim blue light at night. He could just make out Wanda standing in the middle of her cell, her back to him.
"Wanda?" He called quietly, trying and failing to sound calm.
Her head turned towards him, and he couldn't help starting at the sight of her eyes glowing red in the darkness. In the dim light her face looked extra skeletal and with the glowing red eyes she looked like some sort of wraith from hell.
Clint. Wanda's terrified voice suddenly rang in his head as though she were speaking right next to him. They're going to cut open my head. They're going to take my brain apart to remove my powers-
The words cut off abruptly as Wanda jerked and screamed. Her body arched, and she fell to the floor in a heap, seizing violently.
"Wanda!" Clint yelled, horrified. He hated that collar. He often wondered if Stark had invented it and entertained himself thinking up all the creative ways he could kill the man with it.
Vaguely he could hear Scott and Sam shouting and pounding on the glass. After what seemed like forever, Wanda's body finally collapsed and was still. Clint drove his fist into the glass, tears rolling down his face. He couldn't tell if she was even alive.
"Держись, милая. [Hold on, sweetheart.] " He whispered helplessly.
Goddamn it, Steve. Where are you?
Dawn found the three men awake, pacing restlessly in their cells. Wanda still lay in a heap on the floor, but Clint was almost sure he could see her breathing faintly. He had filled Scott and Sam in on what Wanda had said.
"What does that mean? A lobotomy?" Scott had whispered, horrified.
"We have to do something." Sam had hissed.
The helpless rage threatened to drown him, and he knew Sam and Scott felt the same. They had brainstormed for hours, but for nothing. The cells had no weakness that they could find.
"Do you think Stark knows about this?" Scott asked.
Clint snarled, but Sam answered. "He can't know."
Clint barked a disbelieving laugh, but Sam continued.
"No. Stark might be a dick, but I can't believe that he would sit by and let them lobotomize Wanda. He would be in here right now short circuiting everything with a fancy ass ballpoint pen or some shit."
"Not if it was for the greater good or whatever bullshit he's preaching these days." Clint shot back.
In the silence, Clint buried his face in his hands. Honestly, if Stark walked in right now and freed Wanda, he would forgive the billionaire for everything, free and clear. But the sun continued to rise and no snarky genius strolled off the elevator ready to save the day.
They came for Wanda an hour later.
There were four armed guards and two people in scrubs pushing a gurney. Clint screamed until his voice was raw, slamming his fists into the glass, and he could hear Scott and Sam doing the same, but the guards simply watched them silently. The people in scrubs lifted Wanda's limp body onto the gurney and secured her tightly with multiple restraints. Clint felt like he was going to be sick. This couldn't be happening. Too soon, the group was moving back towards the elevator. The doors opened with a pleasant ding.
"No!" Clint shouted desperately.
At the same time, all hell broke loose.
The people in scrubs went down first, seemingly yanked into the elevator by an unseen force. The guards tried to retreat, shouting frantically into a walkie, but Steve Rogers leapt from the elevator like a goddamn avenging angel. He took out two guards quickly, ducking and rolling as the other two opened fire.
There was a click and a hiss and all the cell doors opened.
Clint darted out, catching a guard around the neck and snapping it viciously. The man's body hadn't even hit the floor before he was moving onto the next guard.
"Barton!" He vaguely heard Steve's horrified voice, but he was past caring.
He snatched an electric baton from a fallen guard's belt, spun carefully to avoid the spraying bullets, and stabbed the baton into the final guard's neck. Electricity crackled and the guard went down, seizing violently on the floor. Clint left him where he fell and ran to the gurney where Wanda lay. Sam was already there, taking her pulse.
"What…is that Wanda?" Steve gasped.
"Is she alive?" Clint snapped to Sam.
"She's alive." Sam breathed, relief washing across his face.
Scott was already unfastening the restraints. Steve joined in quickly, the horror on his face changing to something darker.
"You can brief me later." Steve said as he worked, ever the calm soldier. "We don't have much time."
As soon as the restraints were off, Clint gathered Wanda's limp body in his arms not bothering with the straight jacket. His only focus was to get her out. Her head lolled on his shoulder, and he tried not to think about how light her body was.
"We gotta go! Come on!" Steve yelled.
The group rushed back to the elevator and watched as Steve punched in a code. The doors closed and the elevator began to ascend. Clint held Wanda tightly, murmuring softly into her dull hair.
"Ничего страшного. Мы уходим отсюда, милая. [It's ok. We are getting out of here, sweetheart.]"
"It's good to see you, man." Sam was clasping hands with Steve.
"Hi Captain. Ant Man here. Well not here. It's just me Scott. They took my suit." Scott added, saluting awkwardly.
Steve gave them both a nod, but his gaze was fixed on Wanda. As the floors whirred by, the super soldier cautiously approached and gently brushed Wanda's limp hair out of her face. The bruises down her face stood out starkly from her pale skin. Steve gingerly touched the metal collar around her neck, his expression hardening into something Clint had never seen on the man's face.
"Is this a shock collar?" He asked hoarsely.
"Death was too good for them." Clint said in a low voice.
Steve met his eyes and studied him, but then just nodded, silent understanding passing between them.
"What's the sitch, Cap?" Sam asked.
Steve cleared his throat, looking relieved to have something besides Wanda to focus on. "Nat is upstairs in the control room. She faked a breach in the lower levels and then locked the doors, so most of the guards are trapped down there. But we've got probably five, ten minutes before they get the doors open. Bucky's on the plane, keeping the flight deck clear for us."
"Did Tony ever find you?" Clint asked.
Steve's expression darkened again. "Yeah. He did. But that's a story for another time." He looked at the control panel in the elevator, shifting into a defensive position. "We're almost there."
Scott and Sam flanked Steve and Clint took up the rear. He knew he should pass Wanda to Scott so he could be more help fighting, but he couldn't bear the thought of letting her go again. The elevator slowed to a stop.
"Ready?" Steve asked in a low voice.
The doors opened. Ahead of them, lights flashed and alarms sounded. The floor was littered with bodies of guards and prison employees and in the middle of the room stood Nat, smirking.
"Took you long enough." She said playfully.
Clint's heart lightened at the sight of his oldest friend, but he couldn't bring himself to smile back. Nat scanned their faces, quickly losing her lighthearted expression. She strode towards Clint, her face hardening as she took in Wanda. Gently the ex-assassin brushed her fingers across the bruises on Wanda's jaw. Clint followed her movement, bile rising in his throat when he realized the bruises looked like fingerprints.
"Ross?" Clint bit out in a low voice.
Nat met his gaze, and he knew she understood exactly what he wanted to do to the Secretary. "Not here."
"Come on, let's go!" Steve shouted.
The group jogged through several hallways, all littered with fallen guards, and finally through the heavily secured doors that led to the flight deck.
Barnes stood heavily armed before a small, sleek plane that Clint had never seen before. The ex-assassin lowered his weapons at the sight of them, motioning them forward. They had just reached the open cargo door when Barnes shouted a warning and gunfire erupted.
Clint dove into the plane, falling and rolling with Wanda still clasped tightly in his arms. He got a glimpse of an armed force of guards advancing towards them. Nat and Barnes were returning fire. Steve was helping Scott who was limping and bleeding from the leg. Sam darted in, grabbed a gun off the wall of artillery, and darted back out. Clint checked to make sure Wanda was still breathing, and then reluctantly stood to follow suit.
"There is a bow for you, archer." A calm, accented voice called from the cockpit.
Clint glanced at the King of Wakanda in surprise. Last time he'd seen T'Challa, the man had been trying to kill Barnes. Apparently Steve had a lot of briefing to do later. His gaze sharpened on the bow and couldn't help the smile that crept across his face as he held the familiar weapon in his hands. Steve was boarding with Scott. Nat and Barnes and Sam were retreating, still firing at the guards who had halted to form a defensive position. Clint's fingers skimmed the pack of arrows, quicking finding the one he wanted. Meeting the others on the gangway, he fired the single arrow into the floor near the guards. They barely had time to look panicked before they vanished in the explosion.
The entire plane skidded slightly across the floor from the force of the explosion. The four of them darted into the plane and the gangway closed behind them. T'Challa had them in the air not a second later. Clint glanced out the window to see the smoking remains of The Raft's flight deck disappearing from view.
Clint turned to see Sam and Nat both unbuckling Wanda's straight jacket as quickly as they could. Clint knelt beside her to help. Finally the straight jacket fell away and all of them froze at what they saw.
Wanda's prison uniform was torn open all the way from her neckline to the waist. Dried blood ran from underneath the collar on her neck down her naked chest. Bruises and scratches littered her pale skin, some clearly in the shape of fingerprints.
Steve was shrugging out of his jacket immediately, draping it across Wanda's exposed body.
"We gotta get that collar off!" Clint snapped.
Nat began to move, but Barnes beat them to it. Crouching over Wanda's body, he reached out with his metal hand, carefully grasping the collar with his thumb and pointer finger and squeezed. The collar made a humming sound and Wanda's body jerked, but then the metal quickly crumpled and cracked into pieces. Nat and Sam began to gingerly peel the pieces off. Underneath were ugly burns and bloody wounds and layers of old bruises.
Clint stood up abruptly, feeling sick. Steve tried to hand him the portable IV he was holding, but Clint backed away.
"I need a minute." He gasped, turning away.
The Winter Soldier knelt beside the unconscious woman as The Black Widow stood and followed after Hawkeye. His mind was carefully cataloging the numerous injuries the woman appeared to have. Multiple contusions to the face and body. Possible dislocated shoulder. Electrical burns around the neck. Malnutrition. Dehydrated-
A body crouched down beside him, and he managed not to flinch away from Steve's friend Sam.
"I've never been so glad to see you, Barnes." Sam said in a low voice.
The Winter Soldier lifted his gaze to study the man across from him, trying to gauge if Sam was sincere, but Sam was carefully inserting the IV line into the woman's arm. Feeling uncertain, the Winter Soldier glanced to where Steve was bandaging the other prisoner's leg.
Scott , he reminded himself.
"Can you make sure that collar isn't able to track us?" Sam asked, gesturing to the metal remains on the floor.
The Winter Soldier eyed the pieces of the collar, a cold rage creeping over him. Metal bands on his arms. Metal paddles pressing against his face. Electricity crackling. Agony and the echo of his screams. His metal hand whirred softly as he grasped the pieces of the collar and squeezed, crumpling the collar into a ball of mangled metal in his fist.
"That'll probably do it." Sam said dryly.
The Winter Soldier studied the woman's face. He remembered her from the airport in Germany. She had been so vibrantly colorful with her red hair and scarlet coat. Now her face was pale and gaunt and her long red hair was limp and dirty, like all the color had been slowly leached out of her. Something in his chest twisted painfully at the sight of her so broken.
"We'll be there soon." The Winter Soldier said roughly.
"Where's that?" Sam asked as he worked.
"Wakanda."
Wanda brushed her fingers across the field of wildflowers as she walked. Beside her Pietro was humming something that made her think of her mother's soft hands smoothing her hair. The sun was warm on her face and peace filled Wanda's heart. They walked like this for a long time. Until suddenly Pietro stopped, his humming cut short. Wanda turned to look at him, a smile on her face.
"Wanda, zobuď sa. [Wanda, wake up.]" Pietro said, his voice strained.
"Čo tým myslíš, brat? Som hore. [What do you mean, brother? I am awake.]" She asked, frowning at him.
"Niečo je zle. Musíte sa zobudiť. [Something is wrong. You need to wake up.]." Pietro grabbed her arm, squeezing tight enough to hurt.
"To ma bolí, Pietro! [That hurts me, Pietro!]" Wanda cried, trying to pull away.
Pietro let out a gasp and stumbled backwards. Wanda watched, horrified, as bloody bullet holes appeared across his body.
"To nie je správne, sestra. Pomôž mi! [This is not right, sister. Help me!]" Pietro whispered.
Wanda lurched forward, grabbing for him, but suddenly he was gone. Wanda turned in a circle, panting. She was alone. Suddenly the sun was too bright, the silence stifling. She squinted at the bright landscape, fear spiking through her chest.
"Pietro, kde si? Vráť sa! [Pietro, where are you? Come back!]" She screamed.
The only sound was the silence.
"You can't hide forever." A male voice called with a distinctly American accent.
Wanda whirled around, searching for the person speaking. The sun was so bright, she couldn't see anything. Terrified, she dropped down into the wildflowers to hide.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" The voice continued, almost singsong.
Wanda pressed shaking hands to her mouth. She wanted to scream for help, but she knew it was pointless. There was no help for her here.
A body dropped into the grass next to her.
"Boo." He said with a smile that made bile rise in her throat.
Wanda tried to scramble backwards, but he seized her ankle and jerked her towards him.
"Prosím, prestaň! Prosím! [Please stop! Please!]" She screamed, trying to fight him off.
His fist connected with her face, and she tasted blood. His next punch was to her kidney. Everything hurt, her body was screaming in pain. She could feel her powers straining to fight back, to defend her. Desperately she tried to hold them back, but as he ripped open her shirt they raged out of her control.
White hot lighting seared around her neck. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe-
"Wanda!"
Her eyes shot open. She scrambled away from the body leaning over her and suddenly she was falling. Her body landed with a painful thud, her head cracking against the floor. The world tilted and spun. Something was tied to her. She was tangled in rope. Her breath was coming so fast, black dots swam in her vision.
"Ванда, это Клинт. Ты в безопасности. Теперь вы в безопасности. [Wanda, it's Clint. You are safe. You are safe now.]"
She blinked.
"Клинт? [Clint?]"
She was on the floor in a white room, her back pressed against a wall. Clint was crouched in front of her, tears glimmering in his eyes. Behind him a slender young woman with dark skin stood with her hand pressed against her mouth in horror. Medical equipment was strewn about on the floor. She slowly registered that the pain in her hand was from an IV that she had partially ripped out of her skin. The IV line was tangled around her body.
"Могу ли я коснуться тебя? [Can I touch you?]" Clint asked softly, holding out a hand with his palm up.
Wanda stared at him. Her head throbbed. She reached up and touched her head with shaking hands, terrified that her fingers would touch thick bandages, but she felt only her hair.
"Это действительно ты? [Is it really you?]" She whispered hoarsely.
"Да, дорогая. Это я. [Yes, darling. It's me.]" Clint whispered back.
Wanda blinked heavily, exhaustion suddenly sweeping over her.
"Где Пьетро? [Where is Pietro?]" She mumbled as everything faded to black.
"Maybe we should restrain her." Shuri said quietly as they carefully settled Wanda back onto the hospital bed.
"No." Clint said sharply, his head snapping up to glare at the young princess. "Absolutely not. You sedated her. That's more than enough."
"Mr. Barton, she could have seriously injured herself." Shuri argued, but her voice was gentle.
Clint opened his mouth to snarl a response, but a rough voice beat him to it.
"He's right. No restraints. She'll just panic."
Clint and Shuri both looked up at where Barnes stood in the doorway. Shuri's eyes softened.
"Alright." She said quietly.
Barnes moved to stand at Clint's side as they both watched Shuri fix Wanda's IV with deft fingers. Once Wanda was settled once more, Shuri quietly left the room. Clint sat heavily in the chair beside the hospital bed and leaned forward, gently taking Wanda's limp hand. His large hands dwarfed hers, and he carefully stroked the top of her hand with his calloused thumb.
"It's not your fault." He heard Barnes say quietly.
"I promised I'd take care of her." Clint bit out hoarsely without looking up. "When her brother died. I told her if she joined the Avengers, she would be safe." He laughed bitterly. "Even when we got locked up, I thought they'd at least treat her like a fucking human. I don't even know what they were doing to her. Experiments. Torture. Some of the guards, they…they talked about her like she was a piece of meat." His voice broke and he had to struggle to regain his composure. "She's just a kid. She didn't deserve any of this."
He felt Barnes shift.
"I'm sorry." He said in a low voice. "None of you deserved this."
Clint sat up slowly, wiping his eyes. "Hey now." He said, glancing up at where Barnes looked down at Wanda, his face haunted. "Don't you go taking all the blame. What is with you super soldiers and needing to take the weight of the whole goddamn world on your shoulders?"
Barnes looked down at him, uncertainty flashing through his eyes.
Clint forced a smile that felt brittle. "Look, man. We all fought for what we believed in, what we knew was right. It's not your fault that we trusted people we thought were our friends."
Barnes gave a short nod and looked back at Wanda.
"If you want to get some food or rest, I can sit with her for a while." Barnes suddenly offered.
Clint opened his mouth to say no, then paused. He was starving.
"Alright." He said wearily, carefully placing Wanda's hand at her side and standing up. "But let me know if she wakes up again."
The Winter Soldier sat in Barton's chair. The echo of Wanda's screams still rang in his ears. She'd been begging someone to stop in Slovak, pleading with them. He wondered how many times people had begged him to stop before he killed them. Wearily he ran his non-metal hand through his hair.
The woman's brow furrowed in her sleep. The corners of her lips turned down. Her breathing became labored. He watched the numbers on the heart monitor slowly climb higher.
He leaned forward, wondering if he should call out for Shuri or Barton, but she didn't open her eyes. She seemed distressed, but not conscious. Cautiously he reached out, gently taking the same hand that Barton had been holding.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then her hand suddenly gripped his tightly and everything went white.
