The thread. It was thin. Nadia stared at the thread in her hand. Taunt between fingers that pulled it. Ready to snap. Just a touch more pressure.

"Nadia!" Her father called from the kitchen. Why did he yell when he knew she could hear him breathing from her spot on her bed?

"Yes?" She answered, transfixed by the string.

"It's time you got some school done." It was nearly lunch time. She hadn't left her room except to eat breakfast. More blood had appeared in the corner of the closet and she had to wait for the sizable wounds to heal further before coming out.

"Yes, sir!" She looked up to answer before looking back to the string.

It wasn't there.

Damn. Hallucinations weren't good either.

What was happening to her?

More blood had appeared in the corner and she was pretty sure whatever was in the pill bottle and the bottle itself had been destroyed at some point since pieces of it had been scattered everywhere. All of the decorations had been in shambles as well. A swift clean up of the debris had been in order. Nothing except the blood and the hole in the wall remained. There was nothing she could do about the hole and the hallucination of the string had distracted her from trying to remove the blood.

"Now, Nadia!" Came the call again, "I want at least your history done before lunch is served up."

Three scrambled out of her bed and into the living room. What punishment would be inflicted if she didn't? "Here, sir." Potentially nothing. They didn't seem the sort to inflict punishments.

"Good," He watched in his peripheral as Nadia sat at her desk, "Could you put some music on? Or does that distract you too much?"

"I've never tried, sir."

"Well try putting something on." He gave her a grin, "I'm going crazy over here with just my thoughts." Him going crazy? Ha!

Grabbing the music device that she always kept, she put on the music. An instrumental piece. A classic by Mozart.

"No, no." Steve waved his hand, stirring something in a pot with the other, "Not the stuff they probably force fed you or whatever. Play something you actually like."

Three paused. What? Something… something she liked? That wasn't - that wasn't allowed. It wasn't normal. Why would he let her? Test. It must be.

"If your face stays like that much longer it'll be stuck that way," The man chuckled, "Whatever you want, Nadia." He glanced at her again, "No, I'm not tricking you."

Three relaxed her face. How had she not realized that she was doing that? Was there no control over her features anymore?

Music. She had to play something. What did she like? Irrelevant question. She wasn't allowed to have preferences. What would he like? But not too obviously.

Country music. It was often patriotic and down to earth supposedly. Depending. She looked it up and put the first station that came up on.

"Preferences aren't permissible and I have little experience in the music world." She found herself saying, "So, when you ask for a favorite, I can't give it to you." But I can play a genre that holds very little interest to me and pretend that I've been wanting to try it out instead of finding something that fits what might go well with what my character seems to be.

"Well, favorites are now allowed and I'm sure you'll find one, eventually."

History. She had to get that done. The letters on the page winked at her. Lovely.

This was far from good. And what was worse, she was slowly discovering country music was not in her preferred genres.


The slight, rhythmed vibration from his phone was enough for Steve to know that Tony had texted him. The man could wait. It more than likely wasn't a priority anyways. Stark rarely spoke to him and when he did he was either drunk or it actually had some semblance of importance about a mission. His phone continued to buzz in the same rhythm, not stopping for a moment. Either this was an emergency or Stark was exceptionally drunk. The latter didn't happen as often anymore but there was never a zero possibility of it happening.

Finishing the soup, he ladeled some into a bowl, set it on the table and said, "Nadia, lunch is up. Come and get it."

"Yes, sir." She stood, her usual blank look on her face, and sat at the table, beginning to eat without so much as a thank you. It wasn't as if he really wanted one or thought he deserved it but manners were something his ma had hammered into him from day one and he wasn't about to let her down by not teaching them to his daughter.

Steve picked up his phone, his reprimand for her lack of manners dying on his lips as he looked over the texts.

/ Come to my suite. /

/ Now. /

/ STOP IGNORING ME /

/ THIS IS URGENT /

/ GET OVER HERE /

"Once you're done with your food, make sure you get the rest of your school work done." Steve glanced up from his phone, "I need to do a few things but I'll be back in a bit."


Natasha strolled in through the lobby and immediately went to the elevator, pressing the button to go past her level. Stark had sounded serious. He wouldn't say whatever it was over the lines, though.

As soon as the doors opened, Stark was there. The door to the stairs opened and in walked Steve.

"Good, both of you are here." His manner was cold and distant, far different from the texts he had sent.

"What is it, Stark?" Steve crossed his arms, "If this is some -"

"No, Captain Stick Up Your Ass," Tony rolled his eyes, "It's not a prank." His face tightened, "I found more in the files on Red Rabbit."

Before they could say anything, he walked away to his living room area and pulled up some screens. Pictures and reports, lists of names, and videos. Natasha focused on one video, a young Nadia was fighting a woman who seemed intent on killing her. Punch after punch, the slash of a knife, none of it seemed to deter the little girl as she looked at the woman with a determined stare, barely bothering to dodge some blows. A low command was given and suddenly Nadia was in motion slipping behind the woman, grabbing her head and in a twist… it ripped off.

The little girl looked surprised for a moment, then pleased, before the blank look came back and she looked to someone behind the screen, "My strength has increased, sir. I apologize for the mess." The words were German. The video restarted.

Pictures of gore and death, torture, and Natasha soon realized, the lists were targets that were either killed, tortured, or seduced. There were a few pictures of the girl herself being tortured but far less than her supposed accomplishments. The lists were long for a girl of her age. Longer than Natasha herself had when she was that age.

"Your kid," Tony said distantly, "Is not what she seems. Looks like she's already infiltrated at least one place before and who knows what Hydra is planning now." He sniffed, "Only reason I'm not going after her guns blazing is because you two would have tried to stop me."

Steve was shaking. He was evidently angry. Angry at who, Natasha couldn't guess. For herself, she felt nothing yet. Now was the time for action. She'd let the sense of betrayal sink in after things were settled.

Rogers shook his head, "Give me a couple copies, in paper, of what you found." He was cold, distant, and Natasha almost felt sorry for the girl who was going to be on the receiving end of this man's wrath, "Natasha, check out her room, see if you can find anything." He looked back to Tony, "Can you have one of your robot things as backup? But outside of the room and only come on my signal."

Stark nodded, handing the papers over, "Roger that." Even now, the man couldn't help but make a wisecrack.

--

Grante nodded as it came into his temporary headquarters, "Surveillance?" There was no verbal answer but the data chip slid over to him was enough.

"Go to the holding dock to await further instructions." He barely even glanced at it. It wasn't as if he had to worry about it doing anything unauthorized. That had been programmed out long ago. The sound of the closet door, the temporary holding cell, opening and closing was proof enough of that.

Now, to see how his little experiment was doing. Risky business spying on the Avengers but worth it in the name of science. If anything went wrong, it wouldn't be terribly hard to infiltrate and terminate the subject. But for the time being, he would be content to watch it slowly descend into murderous insanity.