Bucky sat, back to the wall, in the corner of the sleepy diner. It was closed and the place was so old the owner didn't even bother with security cameras, just took the cash home at night and locked the doors. Not that locks were all that much of a barrier.

He shouldn't be here. The kid wasn't his responsibility. He barely had the brain power to remember who he was much less try to help this kid out. But from the sounds of it. Steve didn't know how to take care of a kid either.

The conversation with the kid revealed that the Doc had been his usual, paranoid self and installed some sort of fail safe. The girl called it a malfunction but Bucky could tell it from a mile off. Why trust a fledgling assassin and spy when you can simply hand deliver a bomb into your enemies' hands?

He wasn't the kid's lawyer, though. If they couldn't see it for themselves then he'd get her away from them and make a run for it. Hopefully, Steve would be true to his word and only bring himself, Three, and her mother.

The door swung open and in walked the man himself. If his sketchy memory was right, Steve had been his best friend at some point. This freedom was so new, no mission, no handlers to take orders from, a sense of control over his life. Fear was the same. Fear of losing control.

Behind him walked Subject Three. Her hair was near her ears by now, her face filled out and no longer gaunt from being malnourished. Yet there was a different look in her eye. It wasn't the usual blank stare or quiet pleasure when fulfilling a task, they held that sad, anguished face he so often saw in the mirror. What had they done to her?

--

Three sat across from him. Would he actually take her? The thought of staying with these people didn't sound pleasant. Yet she had the feeling that even if the Soldier - Bucky - didn't take her, they wouldn't just let her go. They viewed her as a responsibility now.

Bucky leaned back, looking them up and down, "What are your plans for the girl?" His eyes were flat, revealing nothing and his voice said nothing either.

The Captain was looking at the man as though she was the last thought on his mind, "Buck,"

"Rogers," The soldier glared at him, "I'm not here about you or me or anything to do with that. I'm here about Subject Three." They had a past? How was that even possible?

"The plan is the same as ever." The Widow crossed her arms, "We've come to the conclusion that her," She paused, thinking, "Rather intense escapade was due to the withdrawals and her actions under Hydra weren't her choice to make."

"What did you do to her?" Bucky's glare didn't lessen and Nadia nearly smiled at the sentiment.

"Before the withdrawal took noticeable effect, we fed her and treated her like a normal child." The Widow answered, "Afterwards, she was detained as deemed necessary since she did attempt to kill us."

Bucky sighed, "And you plan to what? Raise her? Take her out and shoot her?"

The sinking feeling was back. He was going to leave her. He was going to leave her with them. If she was still pretending and nothing had been revealed it would be a different story. But this? This wasn't going to be good.

"Please," She found herself finally speaking, it was a little known tribal tongue from South Africa. He had taught it to her during training sessions. The chances of the others knowing it were slim. "Please don't leave me with them. I don't want another cage."

"I'm not myself, kid." He answered in kind, "It's not safe or right to drag you along with me. Only way I'm taking you is if they're going to lock you up. You deserve a normal life."

Three looked away, unable to keep her emotions from her face. He was leaving. He didn't want her. There was no escape.

--

Steve tried to stay on topic as he was still trying to grasp the fact that he was sitting across the table from his best friend.

An unknown, foreign language came from Nadia. Whatever she was saying, she meant it. Bucky responded, obviously denying her. While she didn't answer verbally, her face twisted up before she looked down. It wasn't hard to guess what the conversation was about.

He didn't want to force her to stay with them. But he couldn't just throw her out into the world either. Hydra wasn't going to let such a valuable asset go if they could help it. Neither would what was left of SHIELD for that matter.

"Stay with us, Buck." He said, gears turning, "We can help you -" This could help Nadia and Bucky. Right?

"No." He stood, "You take care of her. I need to figure this out on my own. When my head's right, maybe I'll come visit you. But for now, keep your little family here safe." Before anything else could be said the man disappeared into the night. Just like that, Steve felt his hopes shatter all over again.

Nadia had looked up again, her face blank as ever. She said nothing as she looked at the door. Steve couldn't help but agree. If there was one thing they both wanted, it was having Bucky with them.

"Let's get home." Natasha got up from the chair, "See if we can start on a better foot than last time."

Nadia glanced at her, eyes slits of suspicion, "What are you going to do to me?"

"Well, we're definitely not going to take you out back and shoot you." Steve tried to smile, joining Natasha.

Bucky was gone all over again. His best friend and only connection left of his former life didn't even want to try getting help from them. Didn't want to stay with him. Part of him wanted to run after the man and demand – beg really, him to stay. But if there was any of the old Bucky left in there, begging or demanding wasn't going to do anything. He'd have to find another way.

"You don't need to keep me." She stayed sitting, shifting in her seat to properly glare at them. "Just give me the meds. I can make it on my own."

He shook his head, "You know we can't do that." Stretching out his hand, "How does ice cream sound?"

"It sounds like a bribe you should stick to using on ten year olds."

"Nadia," Nat was giving that cold look she had, "You only have three years before you're 18 and can do what you want then. Our door will always be open to you but until then don't make it worse for yourself."

The teenager continued to glare for another moment, "At 18, I'm free?"

Steve couldn't help the throb in his heart at her words. Maybe the three years would be enough time to change her mind.

"Yes."

Nadia stood, "So be it." She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her hoodie - formerly his, and started towards the door.

--

"Who do you want?" Three leaned back in the kitchen chair, dinner having been finished and plates about to be gathered.

Her father paused, his hand halfway to the Widow's plate, "What do you mean?"

"What sort of child do you want?" She kept her eyes pinned to him, no look of humor to be found,

"Describe it to me and I'll do my best to fit into the characteristics for the three years." If she was going to be stuck here then she might as well have a mission or assignment of sorts.

He looked away for a moment, his breathing picking up a pace, before coming back to her, "We just want you, Nadia."

The Widow nodded, "No masks or characters. Just yourself." She seemed less concerned over the question so Nadia answered her.

"Not possible. There is no Nadia or even Subject Three. Just whoever my handlers want me to be." The blunt, openness was an unfamiliar feeling. Yet it was better than trying to guess and act accordingly. They knew what she was now. Why bother hiding it?

"Then who is speaking?" Natasha cut the father off as he seemed about to object over something.

"The shell, the default, nothing." That was what she had always thought of it as. When no characteristics or person was demanded then this was simply her default mode.

"Well, if this is you with no personality requirements, then that's what we want." The woman stood, "You do, however, still have expectations. Chores and school for now. As well as regular updates as to how you are mentally feeling and if there are any, as you say, malfunctions."

They wanted her default state? How? Three stared at the woman, unsure. Nobody ever wanted that. They'd change their minds soon enough.

"Do you understand?"

Nadia gave a nod before standing and grabbing the plates from her father, "Yes, ma'am."

"Once your medication is under control and we're sure everything is okay," The man seemed to gain his tongue back, trying to lighten the mood of the room, "We'll be moving to an apartment and see about enrolling you in school."

The dishes slipped into the sink with a small crash. The girl glanced at him, "So you're not going to put me to any use?"

"No," He frowned, "Not if you're talking about you joining the team."

"Not joining," She started to fill the sink, "Simply putting me to use for the Avengers."

"Not a chance." His voice was strained, "You've been through enough as it is."

Plunging her hands in the scalding water, Nadia scrubbed at the plates. The smell of the soap was far too much like pomegranates. It was no use objecting. There would be no choice in the matter. "I am going to continue training." It wasn't a question.

"If that's what you decide to do with your free time." The woman answered this time.

"What do you two say about a game?" The obvious attempt to change the subject from the man.

What would happen if she said no? What were the punishments? It wasn't as if they could hurt her without going to the extreme. They couldn't take anything away or keep her here as she owned nothing and did nothing. This was a good place to start saying no. It wasn't a direct order but the yes would be expected.

"I'd rather not." She closed her eyes, waiting for a blow or angry retort. The dishes were nearly finished.

"Okay, how about-"

Dishes were done. "Permission to go to my room?" The fear was gone, now just to resign herself to her fate.

"Yes." His voice seemed sad. Looked like he needed to resign himself to this fate as well. The thrill of no consequences to objecting was fading. It would be better to leave before he had another idea to suggest.

Walking to her room, Nadia flopped onto her bed and looked at the ceiling.

No escape.

--

The door to the basement was practically kicked down as Doctor Grante slammed into the room.

Despite the dramatic entrance, he wasn't frothing with rage but rather the cool fury that meant hell for whomever was on the receiving end.

"Mister Maslovi," He paced around what had formerly been a man, "I do wish you had said something about the failsafe before I had your tongue removed." He glanced at the creature before him, no ligaments, hair on its head patched, and eyes covering wherever a wound had not been cauterized. They bulged like large grapes and seeped a green liquid all around.

It really was a shame it had only been through genetics he had been able to replicate the serum. But some of the failures did make quite the effect for torture despite how repulsive they seemed to be.

"This really does put a wrinkle in my plans." He continued, pulling out a gun as all of the eyes tried to follow his movements. This particular piece of work was done. Time to remove it. He pulled the trigger, watching as gore splashed against the walls.

"Puppet," He called as he climbed the stairs, taking a rag out of his pocket to clean his gun, "Come dispose of your toy. I must reevaluate the Red Rabbit experiment."

It was time to dispose of that one as well. In the wrong hands, that creature could be problematic to the cause.

A/N ~ Thank you all for the reviews and follows, it really is appreciated! :D

This is the end of this part for now but part two is on its way soon. I may just add it to this story or start a new one. I have yet to decide so if you have any suggestions on that I'm open to hearing them. :)