For a moment they both stared at one another, silent and unmoving. Kat, because she was terrified of what he was going to do to her. The Asset, because with his Handler and the Doctors he was only permitted to answer questions, not ask them. And yet he'd spoken first. So now he waited because mistakes were filled with pain and he'd made enough to know what came next. But as each minute passed the silence in the room grew louder and heavier, pressing down like a weight atop their heads. She wouldn't look at him and he wouldn't permit himself to take his eyes off her.

He took in the oversized clothes, the sound of her heart drumming fast and loud, the smell of wet clothes. It seemed unlikely she was a doctor. If she was his Handler she would have given him orders by now or punished him. Did that make her a Mark? Killing the wrong person was much like failing to kill the right one. It led to lessons in pain. And considering his current state he wasn't sure he could handle the kind of beating he would deserve for failing to kill her.

Uncertain of her designation he fell back on his training and forced himself to stand. It was a slow process and he only managed it by a sheer force of will, unsteady and dizzy. He saw her flinch as he slumped against the counter to hold himself up. She shrank into herself as he shuffled along towards the sink. Without looking he turned on the tap and greedily slurped up what water he could catch in his hand. It helped wet his parched mouth and throat but on an empty stomach it made him nauseous. Normally he had to wait to be fed and watered by his Handler but the man had been absent from the extraction point and with no sign of retrieval, he was forced to resort to survival mode. He'd take the risk and accept the consequences.

No matter what she was, he was meant to maintain his body condition for as long as possible while on mission. Was he on mission? His head felt like it was spiralling inward. Standing had been a mistake. His legs felt weak and before he fell he simply slid back down to the ground, lying prone. His chest hurt, his arm was numb and every breath felt like he'd swallowed glass. He found it hard to think straight and the light was so loud he shut his eyes.

He lay there for a long moment, the only sign of life being the rise and fall of his chest. Kat didn't dare move and only watched as he lay there bleeding onto her linoleum. She fought the urge to poke him because if he wasn't dead he'd wake up. So she waited. And waited. He wheezed with every breath but didn't move. And since indecision would leave her in the bathroom with him forever, she chose to risk it. After all she couldn't call the cops from the tub.

She slowly stood and inched towards him, praying all those years of gymnastics would pay off. She held her breath as she lifted a foot to step over him. Silent as the grave she manoeuvred over his body, carefully balanced as she laid her hand on the doorknob and slowly tur-

A hand around her ankle yanked her to the floor. She let out a yelp and put her hands out to stop her fall but she landed hard as her face smacked against the floor. A moment later a hand was on her neck, pushing her cheek against the linoleum. Dazed and hurt, she squirmed and kicked to try and get away. In response he sat on her and pulled a wrist behind her back. She found it harder to breathe as he pushed down and put his full weight on her.

She could feel that he wasn't going to let up and if he didn't she was going to pass out. With few to no options she did the only thing she could. Using the last bit of air in her lungs she wheezed out the one word she thought would get through to him.

"Bucky."

At once she was flipped over. She found herself looking up at him, into blue-blue eyes. She gasped for air as he stared down at her. Only inches from her face, she could see the exhaustion painted on his skin in dark circles and stubble. She tried to wriggle out from under him but he straddled her hips, grabbed hold of her shoulders and held her still.

"That word…"

He tried to keep any emotion off his face. The man on the bridge had spoken with the same expectation, as if he should know and understand what it meant. And that word. It was like hearing voices through a wall. Just indiscernible noise. He grit his teeth as the feeling in his head twisted tighter against his skull. He shuddered through the feeling, trying to keep hold of himself. It shook loose a drop of blood from his hair. It fell down onto her cheek and trailed down her skin.

"It's…your name," she whispered, eyes watering.

He gave no reaction, face carefully schooled. Such a blatant lie meant this was either a test or she was working with his previous mission. If it was the former he should kill her here and now to salvage something from his failure. If it was the latter…

"Wipe him."

Flames burst over his brain as he slipped into the void. Somewhere someone was screaming.

He felt a tremor start in his hand and let go of her to make a fist and hold it tight until the feeling passed. He dug into her shoulder with his other hand.

While he had that glazed, faraway look on his face she tried to break free but his grip was like a vice. So with her free arm she pulled back and punched him as hard as she could in the face.

The pain was a firework exploding in her hand. It split the skin over her knuckles and bled down her arm. Apart from the pain, her hand felt warm and her skin buzzed. Worst of all, it had no effect on him whatsoever. She took a breath to cry out in pain only to find his hand clamped down over her mouth. Her eyes went wide and her body tensed beneath him as she screamed into his palm.

She cradled one hand to her chest and tried like hell with her other to shove him off. But he was a wall and unmovable, waiting for silence on her end before he removed his hand.

She glared back. "Jerk!"

"Punk." He spit out the words before realizing he'd spoken. His eyes widened and he let go of her and sat back, putting his weight onto her hips. A flash of fire cut through his mind like a blade through water and filled his head with faces, sounds, places. It was loud and confusing and as it continued he felt a weight on his chest grow. The pinch in his head widened and pulled him into the void as his vision dimmed and blurred.

Kat heard him grunt in pain and the light go out of his eyes as they closed. His body tilted towards her and she held up her uninjured hand to stop him but his weight and momentum were too much to stop as he fell on top of her, unconscious.