Her mind was back, but it wasn't. There was something off about it. It felt light. As if the inhibitions had been lifted. As if - oh, that's what it was. She was drugged.

"Good evening," Three gave a lazy smile, trying to observe everywhere her eyes could reach as her head was strapped down along with the rest of her body. Where was she? This didn't seem to be in the Avengers' tower any longer.

"Mission report, Subject Three."

"Mission report," She repeated back at them before giving another smile, "Thank you, for confirming you're not Hydra at least." Damn it was not easy trying to play a mind game when you were high. Her training was there and ready to use. But what did it matter? Hydra was gone and she had no mission to report.

"Subject Three," It was hard for the tinny voice to sound firm but it just managed, "Mission report."

"I know Hydra like a rat knows its cage." Her eyes drank in the room lazily, "And this place screams Stark Industries. You really need to find different design artists." The lights only illuminated the first ten yards, probably only originally meant for the blinding effect, beyond that was pitch black. "Anyways, if you were Hydra, I would be dead by now. My head removed and placed somewhere as a reminder not even the children of Hydra can get away with displeasing them."

Another light flicked on, "Then why were you here?" The ballerina. She was sitting in a metal chair, leaning comfortably back.

"I don't know what you did to my head," Three looked anywhere but at the woman, eyes trailing the seams in the cement floor, "But thank you. It feels nice to be back after so long. I don't remember much of what happened this last time, though, I can remember the feeling. It was rather unpleasant."

"What was wrong?" The cold, distant voice should have produced a feeling. Three could feel the dull sense of it but couldn't define it.

"A malfunction." She should have been worried over revealing anything of weakness, but it didn't particularly matter anymore, "Hallucinations, emotions, and memory loss mainly." These were some downright good drugs. She felt amazing.

"How long?"

"It started within a couple weeks of being here." She felt her eyes glaze over, finding a corner to fixate on. She wasn't here. The coast of Maine. Ice cream by the pier. "It's gotten worse the past month." Standing on the large rocks of the shore, looking over the horizon as the sunset.

"Why were you sent here?"

"Originally, I was given the assignment to infiltrate." The warmth of the California sun… "But my handler contacted me and said I was dismissed. Useless. A loose end." She had to come back to the present, but it was so nice here, "He gave the pills. But I never took any."

"What are you doing now?"

"I don't know. I'm useless."

"Then what's this?"

Three blinked her bleary eyes, looking at the small object in the woman's hands. Another blink. It was the phone. The burner phone.

--

Natasha saw with satisfaction the girl go rigid, the drugs seeming to leave her in a rush of adrenaline as her eyes went wide as saucers.

She had been right. Finding out they were wrong had sucked. The sense of betrayal was stronger than she had thought it would be. It was worse for Steve, though, and Natasha couldn't help but hate the girl a little more for that.

"That is none of your business." Her tone was as stiff as her body, the German accent that she formerly had left. It was something then. But what?

Idly, she flipped it around in her hand, "It was found in your room after you tried killing all of us."

Natasha ran her thumb over where it would open, "It has one number in it."

"It was my handler." The girl's face varied from blank to panic, her training trying to kick in but failing, the drugs doing their job, "He defected and attached the number to a bomb as a goodbye. Call that number and you're killing everyone in Times Square."

"Then why didn't you call it?"

"Because I'm not a fucking monster first of all." She hissed, her wrist joint popped at the pressure she was putting on the metal restraints, "And second, that was a backup for a distraction. Unfortunately, I malfunctioned and decided that trying to kill everyone here was a better course of action."

Natasha flipped open the phone, "Is that so?" She pressed a couple buttons, making it look like she was going to the contacts bar, "So, if I call this, I'm going to blow up Times Square?"

The chair groaned as Na- Subject Three, reeled against it, "Yes!" Her panic was real. But not for moral reasons. It was a bluff. She was hiding someone. Natasha clicked to the real contact page, opening the phone number. All it would take was one press of a button.

"I think you're lying."

Over the line in her ear she heard Rogers yelling at her, "What are you thinking? We need to verify that and you know it."

But it didn't get that far, the Hydra assassin slipped her hand out of a restraint, pulling away at the rest of them with her free hand, "Don't!" They came off easily and she soon had both arms free.

Natasha closed the phone and pulled out her gun, "Just because we share blood doesn't mean I won't shoot you."

The assassin didn't even hesitate, "That caliber wouldn't do much, lady. Even a shot to the head wouldn't do it. They've tried."

That was answer enough, without a second thought, Natasha shot out the girl's knee caps. Even if she had super healing there wasn't anything she could immediately do. Walking definitely wasn't going to be an option.

Only a grin came as the girl sat back in the chair, "Thank you." The drugs were wearing off and with the 'medication' they'd given her she seemed to be at full mental capacity. Until the 'thank you' that is.

"Move again and I will kill you." She hadn't moved from her chair, the air of confidence still there,

"Now, who is it?"

"I already told you." The blood had drained from the kid's face, but no sign of pain showed.

"Fine." Natasha stood, walking backwards towards the exit, "Keep Wanda company then."

--

"A scan shows no sign of bombs of any known form." Clint read off the screen, "She's bluffing."

He glanced over through the bulletproof, two way mirror at Nadia. She was staring off into the distance like she had before Nat pulled out the phone.

"She's protecting someone." Steve was leaned against the wall, his eyes never leaving the girl. He looked haggard. Probably hadn't slept a wink since everything went down.

"Why don't we call it?" Stark walked in, "We know it's not going to blow anything up now."

There was a silent agreement around the room.

--

"Three?" The words were urgent, and so painfully familiar. Steve sucked in a breath, waiting for more. Maybe he'd been mistaken.

"Three isn't in the immediate room," Clint was stretched out on two chairs, his body language translating into his voice, "But I'm sure she'd love to see you, though."

"If you, - The man's voice stopped, "Who is this?" It was him. It was Bucky.

After everything that had happened, Steve had had every plan of hunting his best friend down. He'd even started searching. But Nadia happened and priorities had shifted.

"A person concerned about the welfare of this rather young girl."

Several curses came over the line, "Cut the shit and tell me what you want."

"We want to meet, Buck." Steve found himself jumping in. He relaxed his voice to be as calm as Clint's, " It'd be nice to know if the kid is still involved with Hydra as well."

"Your kid has nothing to do with Hydra anymore." The response was sharp, the man's anger seeming to rise at the sound of his voice, "She was a top secret experiment and agent, few knew of her and those that did are either dead or in hiding. Hydra has collapsed." A sigh came over the phone, "I don't want to, but -"

There was a yell from the room, audible through the speakers that amplified into the observation room. Nadia.

"Winter Soldier!" The cry was frantic, "Bucky!"

She was starting to stand when Wanda held out her hands, "Stop!"

"Just fucking try it!" Nadia glared at the woman, her legs were stiff. The healing must not have been complete. "If they even try to touch a fucking hair on his head it'll take a hell of a lot more than blowing out my knees and your mind games, Witch, to keep me from ripping you apart."

"Subject Three," Bucky said hastily, "Stand down."

The girl wavered, glaring at Wanda, "Yes, sir." She sat.

"I want to talk to her." His voice was cold, "Then we can discuss meeting and taking her off of your hands as it seems I was wrong."

"Wrong about -"

"Give her the phone." A pause was put between each word.

Clint muted the phone, "What do you say, Captain?"

Steve sighed, "Just do it." How could his friend be so close and yet feel so desperately far?

A/N ~ Thank you everyone for the reviews! They really are appreciated and make my day when I see them. :D