TW: Panic attacks and insinuated sexual trauma.
The scream escaped from her for barely half of a second. Surely not enough to wake a super soldier. Surely.
Blood pooling around the knife, buried deep within the body. The eyes.
No. No. No. She couldn't lose it. Not an option. Not-
"Mommy?" Swirling embers climbing down her throat. Tendrils. Slimy, red tendrils. The smell of oranges clawing at her nose.
Sweat dripped into her eyes, she couldn't stop shaking, and the scream had turned to a sob in her throat. This couldn't be happening. Last time -
No escape.
The door swung open, a half dressed Captain America skidded into the room, "Are you okay? Where's the d- oh." He blinked as he woke more, coming to her side, touching her elbow, "Nadia, what's wrong?"
Noescapenoescapenoescapenoescape...
No. No. Not tonight. She couldn't do it tonight. There was no trying or getting through it. She would die for her incompetence. The first and the last time she couldn't fulfill an assignment. No escaping it.
Nadia - Subject 3 - who was she?? Scrambled away from him to the other side of the bed, suddenly very aware that she was only in her undergarments. There was no air in the room, she grasped at what was left with short, quick breathes, "Please, sir, not tonight. Not tonight. Please, sir." Her stomach was twisting and folding in on itself as though it not only wanted to rid itself of its contents but jump out of her own throat as well.
Hands - tendrils - sliding across her skin. Wrapping around her. Squeezing the air out and replacing it with blood. Oranges dripping from his eyes.
The man shifted, what he was doing she didn't know. No chances were going to be taken, however. He was strong, stronger than anyone she had ever been made to -
Three fell off the bed. There was nowhere to go. No escape. "Please, not tonight, sir. I'll take the punishment. I'll do whatever you want tomorrow. Just not now." No escape.
--
Natasha hadn't heard whatever it was that sent Steve bolting up in bed. Nevertheless, she figured it wasn't a usual thing for him to practically jump out of bed and run down the hall. Yes, they both had their share of nightmares and sleepless nights but not this.
Something was wrong. Her reflexes may not be as fast as his but that wouldn't stop her from taking up the rear and covering his six. She grabbed the gun beneath her bed and a widow bite before slinking silently behind him a few seconds after he left the room.
He had gone towards Nadia's room. Natasha took a moment to scan the area, making sure it was clear before coming to the room.
Steve was next to the bed and Nadia was falling off of said bed on the opposite side. That look frozen on her face. One Natasha knew so well from the Red Room. This wasn't fake or even controlled. There was no alternative thought behind it. Just terror.
"Please, not tonight, sir. I'll take the punishment. I'll do whatever you want tomorrow. Just not now."
Steve let out something between a choke and a sob. "Nadia, I would never do -."
"Please, leave." The girl was going to hyperventilate soon if she kept it up. At the hesitation from Steve, a steel began to replace the fear. This kid was about to kill someone or at least try to, "Leave!"
"Nadia," No, talking was not the solution right now. Violent assassins, in training or otherwise, having a panic attack did not often take well to negotiations. Or anything for that matter.
"Steve," Natasha finally came in and grabbed his arm, "We can't help her right now. Let's go."
--
Numbly, he stood and followed Natasha out the door. Just as the door was closing he heard a whimper preceding the wretch that came immediately afterwards. The small hand on his elbow gripped tighter as they went to the common room.
Steve sat himself on the couch. Unable to fathom what had just happened. He hadn't done anything that he knew of to warrant her reacting like that. Maybe she wasn't seeing him. Like a flashback. But that still begged the question of what she was seeing.
Her face, the terror and expectation that he wanted something from her. She thought that he -
"I'm going for a run." He stood, unable to tell which emotion the tears in his eyes were from. Anger, grief, fear? All of it?
"I'll let you know when she calms down." Natasha looked up at him from her seat. The woman was curled up, her eyes revealing little. She was his teammate, his friend, and the mother of his child. His partner in raising her. It wouldn't be right to just run away, leaving her to work this out on her own. That wasn't how it worked. His feelings could be worked out with a punching bag if need be. For now, he would make sure her needs were met.
He sat next to her, a respectful distance away but close enough to hopefully give some comfort. "How are you?"
The woman curled in on herself a bit, face blank, "Better than Nadia, I'm sure."
Steve nodded, ignoring the pang it sent into his stomach just mentioning her. He waited. If she wanted to talk she would.
--
Subject Three woke to the bright, yellow sunlight streaming in through her windows glaring into her eyes. The stench of vomit hit her nose not long later. That would explain what the cold, chunky liquid around her legs and upper body was.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she stretched herself out from the ball she had been in to lay flat on her back, ignoring the feeling of the bodily fluids that squirmed around her. She was already covered in it so what difference did it make?
Now, what had happened?
She lost control. The Captain had come in. He left. She continued to lose any form of ability to hold onto sanity before blacking out. The Widow had pulled him out saying something Three couldn't hear over the screaming in her head. What was her game? Kindness? No. Not from a widow.
What was going to happen now? She had not only given into fear but had failed to comply with the desires of her - her what? Whatever they were, there would doubtlessly be punishment. It'd make the mission easier. They had seemed like mildly decent people. Them being cruel made her job that much smoother. What was the assignment again? Which was hers? Was there a difference?
Laying there, a flash of light hit her eye from a nearby building. Then again as it bounce from a window onto the wall. It was flickering repeatedly. Once, pause, three times. Nadia smiled, they'd got her message.
She waited until the message had been repeated twice before finally standing up to signal she'd received it. Now was time to get up and face whatever the correction may be. It was bad enough that she didn't wake up in a torture cell upon regaining consciousness. Realistically, she shouldn't even have woken up. Failure to thrive was met with termination.
Shower. Clean the mess. Put clothing on. Go out and report to one of the handlers - targets - parents? To receive punishment.
Leaving the room, she found herself looking not at the angry people waiting to bring her to her death but an assassin and a soldier out of time entwined with each other on the couch. Both asleep and oblivious to her entry.
Did they expect her to do it herself? If that was the case, they'd have to be more specific on what they wanted. Silently, she padded towards the gym. Breakfast was a luxury that Three had a feeling wasn't going to happen for a while - if ever.
Two hundred and fifty seven push-ups later, Subject Three decided endurance training would be in order. Bringing herself to the tallest bar she could find, then proceeded to hang from her feet. Multiple forms of discomfort would ensue after a time. The blood rushing to her head as well as her ankles bearing the weight of her body would be the main sources. With a look at the clock, Three closed her eyes. Four hours would be enough for now.
--
Tony sat back in his chair, eyes locked on the closed files. He should leave it alone. With Shield in shambles, Agent Tightass hadn't come back - probably satisfied that a super soldier and a world class spy could handle some teenage experimentation.
So why couldn't he?
It definitely wasn't because Friday had unearthed more files. The words "Project Red Rabbit: Training Assignments" were not an incentive either.
A message from Pepper came up on his phone that made a slow smile spread across his face.
No. He wasn't going to give into paranoia. Not right now at least.
A/N ~ Happy New Year to most of y'all and if that ain't your thing then a good day to ya anywho. Here's a double post for you guys. Would love to hear your thoughts about how things are going!
