"Subject Three!" Steve slammed through the door, papers and what seemed to be pictures nearly crumpled in his hands. His face contorted in barely controlled rage. The sinking feeling in her stomach finally hit bottom. They had found out.

The papers came crashing to the table in front of her. Her files. Her training files. Pictures of her finest work. Looking at one, she nearly smiled but had the good sense to keep it from her face. It was a photo of her first assassination. Not her first kill but her first sniper shot with the Winter Soldier there to help if need be. One of few nice memories.

The Captain ruffles through the pages before getting to one, reading from it, "The subject goes above and beyond in training sessions. It shows great potential in the art of neutralizing a target and extracting information through various forms of torture." He slammed the paper down, looking her in the eye, "You didn't think to tell us any of this?"

That cold, distant feeling that only came when she knew it was fight or die crept over her. Cocking her head, she smiled a bit, "What do you want me to say, Captain?" She rolled her eyes, giving her a voice a slightly higher octave, "Oh, before you either keep me here as your pet or throw me out to some government agency to become their personal pin cushion, let me just tell you real quick about how exactly I was put into use at Hydra's hands my entire life!"

Standing, she shoved the papers back at him, her voice going back to its natural octave, dimly aware that the German accent of her childhood was coming through, "Not only was I their thing to send off to the brothel whenever they pleased but yes I was their child prodigy, assassin who so happened to be at their beck and call. Of course, I wanted to do all of that as it was just so fucking pleasant!" The sarcasm practically dripped from her lips on the last sentence, her face heating up.

The cold was quickly getting replaced by heat as she felt herself losing control. But it didn't matter anymore. None of it did. She could kill them all and it wouldn't matter. "Have you ever been forced to kill the one person in the world you ever trusted and loved? Standing there, barely big enough to hold the goddamn gun in your hand but terrified that they'd say use the knife instead? To hold it to your own brother's head while he just laughs, confident that if it is a test he'll pass and if it isn't then he'll at least die laughing?"

Three started to pace, her voice feeling more like a snarl than a yell, "Life means nothing in that fucking hole! Nothing! Failure to thrive is met with immediate disposal. They expect you to fail. They want you to. So you don't. You go above and beyond for the vain hope that one day you'll deserve a fucking name! Or maybe not be called an it even! No she or him or even they. It! Because you are less than an animal to them!" A pencil snapped, had she been holding it? Strange. She didn't remember keeping it with her when going to the table.

--

Natasha slipped into Nadia's room, looking for anything that could prove her hunch right. The suspicion that had been there all along now mocked her for not giving it due attention in the first place. How could they have been so stupid?

On the surface, all there seemed to be was a clean, spartan room. All the decorations, even the family photo of them, were no longer there. Just her bed, her desk, and the trash can - overflowing with the remnants of the decorations. An inspection revealed that it was just that.

The closet was a different story entirely. Clothing masked it at first, but there's a certain scent the smell of blood can give off. Deeper in, the holes in the wall, the scratches that looked like tally marks, and the dried blood came not long later. It was mainly in one corner, dried and pooled on the floor. Now wasn't the time to focus on those implications.

Natasha looked closer around the little room. Bingo. Two small, light grey pills were in the corner seemingly forgotten. Scooping them up, the spy finished her search but found nothing else. Maybe Tony could test these in his lab later.

--

The Captain stared, eyes wide and the color drained some from his face, "Nadia,"

"Oh, now it's fucking Nadia?" Something wet and warm was on her face. She wasn't crying, though. "So now I have your sympathy because what? Because you feel like I was forced to do it? That I didn't want to? Well, I -" The room started to spin, looping and dropping. Three staggered a bit, something was coming out of her eyes. But she wasn't crying. What- she swiped at her face to be greeted by the blurry sight of blood. Black swam in the corners of her vision. She looked up to see the Soldier instead of The Captain standing there. Words dripped from her mouth as though they were weighted down, sinking into the floor. What? What was? The black swarmed her eyes in tendrils and she knew no more.

--

Steve hadn't found it in himself to leave the distance the table provided them as he watched the girl go from calculated sarcasm to complete angry tirade. His own anger dimming as he saw a glimpse of what she had been through in the tortured depths of her eyes.

Nadia began to pace, her head down as she continued. Then she turned to him, "...You go above and beyond for the vain hope that one day you'll deserve a fucking name! Or maybe not be called an it even!" Her nose was bleeding, face splotched, and the look in her eye told him that this was more than just a quick breakdown. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

--

"Tony," The redhead walked in, looking colder than he'd seen her even after she found out about her kid being a mini assassin. She held out her hand to reveal two small pills.

Tony backed up, hands in the air with a grin, "Woah there, Carmen Sandiego, I'm a clean man now. Didn't think you-" It was a deflection from the stress building up as he watched through Friday what was going on with Steve and the kid. The signal be damned, if she so much as touched one hair on his head he was blasting her into next year.

"They were in Nadia's room." Red cut him off, "Can they be tested here?"

He nodded, grabbing them gingerly, "Sure can, Red." Placing one into the device that'd do the job, he looked at her, "Didn't think drugs would work well on her, honestly, as she has pretty high metabolism."

"I don't think that's it." She glared at the tester as though that would make it run faster.

"Then what?"

"I don't know."

--

"Nadia," He managed to get out before she cut him off.

"Oh, now it's fucking Nadia?" She turned away again, her hands to her head, pieces of broken pencil falling to the ground, "So now I have your sympathy because what? Because you feel like I was forced to do it? That I didn't want to? Well, I -" She staggered, turning about as blood dripped on the floor from her face. Her eyes. They were bleeding. Nadia managed to drag a hand across her face and stare at it in confusion before looking through him, a quiet, "Dad?" Coming before she dropped to the ground.

His world stopped for a second as he watched himself sprint towards her, somebody was yelling, "Friday! Friday! Get some help! Get the medics!" It was him. He had been the one yelling.

The world snapped back and Steve pressed a hand to Nadia's neck to feel an erratic heart rate, before scooping her up and sprinting towards the stairs. The elevator wasn't going to be fast enough.

--

"Miss Romanoff," Friday said over the speaker, "Mister Rogers wishes to inform you that Nadia is in the medical unit and he asks that you come."

Before Stark could say anything, Natasha found herself bolting out the door of the lab. Pills be damned. The files be damned. What had the girl done? Why was she there?

"Hey Nat!" She vaguely registered Clint calling out from down the hall, "Finally found you! Where-"

His voice was cut off as she entered the elevator and the doors closed.

--

Three - Nadia - No, Three woke up to the piercing beeping of a heart monitor, the smell of antiseptic, and three heart beats in the room. The sound of clicking on phones. They were all talking to each other but didn't want to wake her. How thoughtful.

What to do. What to do. What to do. What- anyways. What to do? Killing them. No, wouldn't be easy. By the smells, it was Captain America, The Black Widow, and Sandwiches. But escaping them? Returning to Hydra. Giving a detailed report and asking for extermination. Good. Maybe not returning. Maybe just killing them. Yes. Kill them. Her bones sang at the thought. Yes. This would be delightful.

The subject let out a small whimper and shifted slightly. On queue, the texting stopped and Captain America was on one side while the Widow was on the other. Go time. Opening her eyes, Nadia grabbed the Widow's arm and threw her easily into the Captain, scrambling out of the bed and bolting through the door. Escape? Yes. That had been the plan. Right? Yes. Maybe. Yes.

Stumbling, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Even so, she heard the Captain call out, "Nadia! Wait!" Mmm, maybe murder would be on the plate today. Skidding to the elevator door she pressed the button. Nothing happened.

"Nadia!"

Time to go. The subject ran just as the man came into view. Rounding a corner, she found the Widow and Sandwiches blocking her off in the hall, weapons raised. She risked a glance back. The man wasn't there yet. She turned around, baring her shoulder to the window as she ran. Impact was made - as her father rammed into her, wrapping his arms around her, a prick in her arm. The world went black before she hit the ground.

--

Steve watched his daughter sleeping in the white, padded room through the monitor. "You're sure that's gonna hold her, Stark?"

"Best we got right now, Capsicle." The man snapped, he looked like death warmed over at this point. Vaguely, Steve wondered when Tony had actually slept last. "I'm just glad the sedative that works for you worked for her."

"Do you have any idea of what's wrong?" Nat glanced at the doctor who was accompanying them for a brief observation.

The woman shook her head, "The scans we managed to get when she was first unconscious are showing what seems to be severe withdrawals from an unknown substance and the beginning of deterioration in the brain. However, with her healing abilities it's been much slower than normal. From what we can tell, the average person would have been dead or reduced to a vegetative state by now. Even so, we have little idea as to what it is yet or why it's happening."

"And what would any of these ingredients do, doc? Specifically all together and ingested? In the dosage shown?" Tony butted in, pulling up a holographic screen that had been showing pictures of Nadia's brain scan.

The doctor was quiet for a moment, looking them over, before responding, "Well, that explains it."