Author's Note: So that you are aware, I'm going to handle the upcoming chapters that deal with what Teagan is being put through delicately. I'm not going for the rough gore shock of highly detailing her torture. There are only a few chapters before the dramatic event you are hoping for. They will help build-up to show the mental state our heroine is then at and why she makes some of her shocking decisions. I know that may sound cryptic now, but all will be revealed shortly.

Unknown Hydra Base
Unknown Passage of Time

Sam was firm in his belief that time was passing, he just wasn't sure how much. Every so often, he was almost certain that he managed to stay conscious for a couple of moments, using those precious ticks to try and figure out what was happening around him. But just as he was confident that he had something figured out, he would slip back into the darkness of troubled sleep and loose it all again.

The dreams…or were they nightmares…seemed more real than his waking flashes.

All of them included Teagan in one way or another. Walking down the street holding hands with a smile on her face. Rolling over to find her waking up in bed next to him. Sitting together on a couch laughing at a movie. Lying on the grass watching the clouds, one of her favorite pastimes.

But then all of them ended the same way…with Teagan's screams as she was consumed by a dark miasma.

His mind was trying to reveal a painful memory that he hadn't been able to prevent.

After so long, Sam felt the weight of his body instead of the sensation of floating in a dream. The clouds in his mind finally began to clear. The nightmares that had haunted him for so long took a new shape…as images of the past.

Teagan was gone, taken from him. There was something actively stopping him from getting to her. Something was keeping him here and he had to fight it. Teagan needed him and he was not sure how he was going to find her.

Sam fought to be conscious, barely managing to crack open his eyes to see if this was real.

The first things he was sure of after finally waking was that the room he was in was a bright white, it smelled of bleach and chemicals just like every other hospital he'd ever been in, and that there was a very large Hydra symbol painted in red on the concrete wall directly in front of him. The damn thing's empty eyes seemed to be boring into him, as if threatening him.

Rolling his head to the side, Sam was able to see that he was secured to a typical hospital bed with heavy, dark brown leather medical cuffs with thick white interior padding on both his wrists. They were then connected to heavy straps that encompassed the bed frame. To remove them, Sam would need a special magnetic key. He'd seen this same style used in hospitals on unruly mental patients. There was no way for him to free himself.

Underneath the restraints were gauze bandages with a hint of red to them. They had taken care of the cut wounds he had created with the handcuffs while fighting to free himself on the plane…

The last place he had seen Teagan.

Unfortunately, his left forearm was also covered in a cast, telling him that it had been hurt. There was no pain from it to gauge exactly how bad though.

His arms were held at the edge of the bed with nothing nearby to help him escape. An IV line ran to an empty bag hanging next to beeping monitors. Moving his legs which were parted, he felt something holding them down, probably the same type of cuffs. The bed's thin sheet was partially pulled up him so he was able to see that he now wore an orange version of a hospital gown, probably to indicate he was a prisoner, not a typical patient.

Knowing that he was more awake now than he had been, Sam let his mind wander to the last painful memories that he tried to ignore. Steve and Nat were gone, buried at that damn base. He was all alone and useless. He had failed Teagan. For so long she had been told that they…he…would keep her safe from Keeling.

And it had all turned out to be a lie.

How was he ever going to help her now when he couldn't even help himself?

He was just as much a prisoner as she was…only injured.

The door to his room was closed, making the beeping sound of the machines give a slight echo. Above his head, the bright fluorescent lights not only managed to hurt his eyes, but helped the pounding in his head to feel like a drum so he closed them to block it out. He was almost sure now that he had gotten hurt more than just his arm when he fell, Sam just wasn't sure how badly.

About that time was when Sam heard footsteps getting louder as if coming towards him. There was also a tapping sound that he felt he should recognize.

"I'm surprised it took you so long to check on him," a feminine voice spoke from somewhere nearby, partially muffled by the door.

"I had a more pressing issue to deal with," the male responded. "He's still alive, correct?"

"Yes. He was admitted with minor injuries. We've put a cast on his fractured forearm, and that will take a few weeks to properly heal. The cuts on his wrists from the cuffs will be gone in only a few more days. But the prisoner does have a mild concussion," the female informed him. "It looks like he hit his head when he landed on the ground. He'll still probably have at least headaches, nausea, and sensitivity to light for the next few days, but nothing more serious than that unless the injury is aggravated."

Sam cracked a single eye open to find himself still blinded by the brightness of the room again. Off near the closed door were the two people talking, a male and a female doctor. His head was indeed pounding with a headache once again, just like the doctor said. A mild concussion. Considering he could have died...yeah, he'd take the concussion.

"So he's fine to be moved to a proper cell?"

Sam now recognized that hateful voice…Keeling. The tapping was his loathsome walking cane on the tile floor.

"Unless you really need him moved immediately, just to avoid any more injuries to the head, I would advise for him to remain here. Giving him solid foods in his condition could induce vomiting, so he's being feed intravenously. We have also been keeping him sedated so he's been unconscious most of the time since he arrived, just like you requested. He could also reinjure the arm, possibly worsening the fracture."

"I need him alive. He has a valuable purpose."

"Then let's keep him here to insure his recovery. We'll make sure he is well taken care of. Give us a week or two, and then he can be transferred without worry."

Wanting to spring out of bed and hit that man repeatedly, Sam tried lifting his weak arm but it was stopped abruptly after only a few inches. He had forgotten about the bed restraints.

"So he's unconscious now?"

"It's about time to change out his IV bag again, so he may be partially awake."

"I want to see him."

"Right here, Sir. The nurse has his next round of sedatives. Let me know if you need anything," he heard before the retreating footsteps.

The door to Sam's room opened, revealing the one person he hated the most in this entire world right now. Marcus Keeling strode across the few feet to stand right next to his bed. He wanted to take that cane and hit him upside the head with it. The repulsive male was followed in by a nurse who carried a clear IV bag, probably the stuff that was keeping him knocked out.

With malice in his voice, Sam firmly told Keeling, "You're a sick bastard, you know that right?"

Keeling grinned down at him bending slightly to loom over him.

"Why do you think that Hydra recruited me in the first place? That don't exactly accept applicants that have pure morals," he smugly told him.

"Why did you have to have Teagan back? Why couldn't you just let her go to have some kind of life after all the sadistic bullshit that you've already done to her?"

"Hydra needs her now more than ever," Keeling bluntly told him. "Since our exposure, we've lost a lot of agents in high places. We'd had decades to place our people where they were needed, and now they are gone. With Teagan's powers, we can now replace them with new valuable ones, even those who would not normally become Hydra. She will be instrumental to rebuilding Hydra's ranks inside of numerous governments by taking those loyal to others and commanding them to do our bidding. They will vote how we need them to, they will move troops where we need them, they will pass along strategic information to us…Hydra will once again be the new world government behind the curtain."

Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. They were going to implant themselves right back inside of the political machine, just like they had been before the Shield computer file dump onto the internet. With Teagan's powers, anyone they could get their hands on for her to command would find themselves unable to stop themselves from becoming double agents for Hydra.

"That didn't work so well for you the first time," Sam pointed out.

"Last time, Captain America and Black Widow were there to stop us. This time, they're dead."

The sharpness of hearing that spoken aloud felt like a stab through Sam's heart. As far as he knew, they were dead. He'd seen the crumbling rock heading right for them. They had been buried inside of that hanger, never knowing that he and Teagan were captured. He couldn't let this pompous jerk know how disturbing it was for him to hear that, otherwise he would somehow use it against him.

"Don't forget that I was there helping them. I worked hard that day killing a number of your friends," he tried to sound confident.

With a flick of Keeling's finger, the nurse, who had been intently listening to them talk, moved over and began to change out the empty bag with the new one. Once it was started, he would be their unconscious prisoner yet again. He gave a couple of yanks at his arms and legs, but not a single limb moved more than an inch.

"And once you", he lifted his cane's Hydra head to point at him, "are on our side, you'll be using those same skills to kill for Hydra," Keeling grinned down at him, seeing the useless struggle he'd given.

Sam felt an eerie coldness slither down his spine.

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you really think that you were only here just because of your relationship with Teagan?" Keeling shook his head in disappointment. "Granted, that was the reason I wanted you brought in, but then we began to realize the numerous important contacts that you would be able to access. Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Secretary Ross, Thor, King T'Challa…there are a lot of high profile people out there that you can get us access to. Useful ones you will bring in to meet Teagan. Friends are easy, just a simple call for help. The same goes for those actively searching for your group of criminals. Those who would not be as useful to our cause, you will kill for us. Then there are the others, the ones you fought against in Berlin that would like a chance for a rematch. Your presence will help set them up to be captured, just like you were."

"That will never work," Sam knew he didn't sound as confident as he had hoped.

Keeling then gave a sadistic grin, "You may even know the fate and location of the Asset…the Winter Solider. I'm not even going to bother asking right now, because you'll just deny it. All I'll have to do once Teagan turns you into a loyal Hydra solider is simply ask and you'll tell us everything we want to know. With her ability, we will not need the code words or Chair anymore."

Sam gritted his teeth as he tried to lurch for the evil man standing only a foot away from the bed.

"She'll never do that to me," he told him. "She'll never make me Hydra."

Keeling tapped his cane hard on the floor as he turned towards the door, taking a few slow steps while he gave Sam a retort.

"Either she will turn you as commanded or I'll personally pull the trigger to blow your brains out right in front of her. If she cares for you the way that I suspect that she does, it's only a matter of time before you'll be saying 'hail Hydra'…and meaning it."

With that parting threat, Keeling was gone, only the sound of his cane echoing through the halls as he left.

Glancing over at the nurse, Sam could only watch as the nurse flipped the IV's line roller clamp, allowing the vile liquid to flow into his arm. Struggle again as he felt the cold fluid enter his vein, the nurse flipped off the overhead lights as she left while his fading vision was drawn to the spotlight focused on the painted red eyes staring down at him…only now, it was laughing.

Colorado Hydra Base

"How is it going?" Natasha asked from the hallway behind him. Turning around, he found her with a plate stacked with sandwiches for his lunch.

"Slow, but steady," he informed her, wiping away the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm.

There had been a few times when the removal of a key rock had shifted and dropped a load of debris towards his head. After the first time, Steve had always made sure to test the stability of his next move. Knowing that if something happened to him that Nat would be stuck down here, he had slowed down his progress to increase their safety.

Taking the offered plate, he practically inhaled the half of a ham sandwich. "I'm going to need somewhere to start storing what I remove."

After spending the past week moving the debris out of the, hopefully, escape tunnel, he had begun to realize that the hallway would be filled up before they could get out. The tunnel was much higher than he'd originally anticipated. Therefore, they needed to move the rocks to another nearby room to keep the hallway clear.

They both then sat down on some of the larger boulders and concrete chucks that he had pulled from the tunnel.

"Keeling's office is right over there," she pointed to a door over her shoulder. "Plenty big enough with another security room just outside of it. They should hopefully work for what we need."

"Good," he told her, reaching over for the water bottle on the floor. "Think you can manage some of the smaller ones, and I'll take the large?"

"Guess that means my vacation time is up," she joked while eating her own sandwich.

After lunch they got to work and it didn't take long before Nat was taking off the sweatshirt she had been wearing. To keep him from overheating, they had turned the air unit to pump out colder air. Nat had been only mildly suffering while he had been at a comfortable temperature to work in.

As they began to silently work in tandem, Steve knew that they had gotten off easy. The galley had been stocked with plenty of food, enough to feed all of the workers for a few weeks. There were not a lot of fresh items, telling them that either another shipment was coming in or that they had not expected to be here for long. They both agreed with the latter.

Since he was working all day to clear the tunnel, Nat had taken charge of cooking all their meals. While he had been hauling out rocks, she was roaming the base and going through the computer systems that had been left behind during their rushed evacuation. So far, she had not found anything useful that would lead them back to wherever Sam and Teagan had probably been taken.

Even with them both hoping they had escaped, they silently knew that them having been captured was a possibility. Maybe by the time they got out of here she would have something for them to go on.

Unknown Hydra Base

This time when she woke up on the thin mattress in her cell, her mind was once again clear and sharp. That wasn't always the case and she much preferred those other muddled stints of time.

The initial repeated sessions of madness and panic over her situation had been pushed from her mind too long ago. By the third trip to the training room, she had stopped struggling with them as she was dragged through the hallway. They had made sure that it would be even more physically painful to do so upon arrival.

So she had stopped…everything.

Stopped fighting, stopped panicking, stopped screaming, stopped being angry, stopped caring what was happening.

She had let her mind break away to find a place where it would be happy.

It was at times like this, with her mind clear, knowing she would be here with Keeling forever, that she hated the most.

Lying face down on the pathetic bed, she wondered how long this hated clarity would last this time. Hopefully only a couple of minutes, she'd deal with an hour, and pray that it was not another full day. Until the blissful insanity her mind had created was restored, she would be counting the seconds until it returned and would remove the painfully clear memories…no, not a memory, Sam was nothing but a dream…that continued to haunt her.

She once again knew exactly where she was and what was still happening.

And she was determined to spend as much time of the rest of her life in that other place…inside the wonderful dream that she'd had during this Hydra nightmare.

She had woken up one day and it had all been gone.

She wanted to go back to the imaginary world where she was free from Hydra, she had friends that cared for her, and where Sam loved her.

Out of all the fantasies and dreams over the years that she had, that one had been the best.

That's why she hated these lucid times. They were nothing more than a reminder that she still was in fact nothing more than Keeling's tool….no, his punching bag.

Her body felt that it was no longer riddled with pain, only having sharp aches all over her chest and legs. Would this be the remainder of her life? Constant beatings in the dark. She was no longer tired, knowing that she had slept for more hours than were normally allowed. Why had Keeling not come for her yet? He never let guards deal with her on their own. He always oversaw her 'training'.

In fact, now that she considered it, nobody had entered her cell to feed her between the trips to the training room. Maybe she had finally outlived her usefulness to Hydra. Couldn't they have just shot her instead of starving her to death? She knew that there was a feeding tube in her nostril just like always, but the meal times were gone. No one let her know that they were there to inject the liquid meals. Were they doing so without her realizing?

Carefully standing up onto her sore feet, the aching in her shoulders was more noticeable now that she was moving around. But lying face down was how she spent every moment not standing. There was no comfortable position to sleep in fixed the way she was. Wiggling her fingers, they were met with the familiar metal that encased them. Of course, that slight movement caused the pins-and-needles feeling to spread through her bent arms. Keeling had been so proud of her arm restraint when she had first come here, bragging about how he had thought of the design.

She'd always thought it ironic that Keeling had bound her hands in a prayer formation, only behind her instead of in front, since she had stopped years ago praying for any release from this hell.

Lifting her head upright, it finally hit her hand's covering, giving her something to rest it on. Staring upwards towards the ceiling, she wondered if the light above her was on but knew that it probably wasn't. The only change had been the beeping sound that no longer frustrated her with its irregularity. In fact, having gone deaf while being captured, she no longer heard any sound, not even the unit pumping air into this section. If Keeling was demanding her to answer questions, he was out of luck.

The only thing she was sure of was him taking a hold of her the way he used to do. The way he would grasp her, his show of dominance that she was required to submit to. Only now, when he held her, she would struggle, she would fight him...she would make him so mad that he would eventually kill her. That was her plan.

But right now, this lucid time was drawing on for far too long. She needed to get back to the dream world where Sam was hopefully waiting for her again. Maybe this time she could take him to Ireland to see the cliffs at Moher. So how could she get back there, to the dark?

The same way she had done it over the years…through pain.

Breathing in as much as the constricting hood would allow, she braced herself for what was to come.

Walking to the furthest corner point of her cell as the chain would allow, she turned to face the opposite corner. She had long ago memorized every inch of her home. After a couple of forced, scared huffs of breath, she darted at her full speed towards the upcoming corner wall.

Just before impact, the arm binder that was chained to the ceiling snapped at the end of its length, and her journey was abruptly halted in a half-second…as her left shoulder popped out of its joint.

The excruciating pain that radiated throughout her caused her to scream out through the horrible gag that did not do the volume of her voice justice.

Dropping to her knees while still pulling on the chain, she let her body's weight sear the injury deeper into her body until she finally felt the wanted darkness arriving that would bring the wonderful dreams of Sam back to her.

"Damn her," Keeling mumbled as the crew from medical arrived on his level.

Without a word to them, he turned towards the security door that would take them down the hallway to her cell.

Less than two weeks since she had been brought back and it was not going the way that he had suspected it would be. By now, he had believed that the heavier imposed isolation the hood offered would have gotten to her. In a way, it had, he considered. But the current result was not want he wanted or needed.

Instead of the panic attacks that he had expected her to have which would finally push her into his compliance, they had lasted only days before she had somehow shut herself down, as if she instead had been broken in a different direction. She didn't even bother begging for the beatings to stop as he had hoped.

Every time that he thought she might have started to give up, to fall back into the old pattern they'd had, Teagan would defy him. With each touch of his hand on her body, she pulled away from him. She knew what was expected of her, but it seemed she would rather take the beatings.

He had wanted to make her suffer for even being taken from him in the first place. The daily beatings were not only to help persuade her but to make up for the lost time while she was freed. He had yet to use her body again. That would come once he was sure that she was at the tipping point of submission, which was looking further away every day.

When the guard had called him into the security room and replayed the video of her running till the chain stopped her to dislocated her shoulder, he could only stand there speechless.

Why had she done this to herself again? Thinking back, there had been a similar event had happened. That time, Teagan had too much slack on the chain so she had been able to jump upwards while pulling her feet from under her before the stopping jerk of falling had dislocated her shoulder then. Except for causing herself pain, he could see no point in the move.

"Sir, we can't take her to medical like that," one of the voices drew him back to the present. Looking at the one who'd spoken, he could see them turning up their noses at Teagan.

As he wandered his own thoughts, they had arrived at her open cell and the guards were staring at her naked, hanging form.

"Why not?"

The two male guards looked at each other, as if not understanding his question.

"Sir, they are going to complain about the stench," the second one stated.

Through the years, Keeling had grown used to the sight and smell of her after having to spend a couple of days locked away without any type of shower. The beatings she suffered in the training room produced a mixture of sweat and blood, neither of which he had cleaned off. Instead, he had ordered her to not be hosed off since arriving hoping to drive home the point that any comfort she had grown used to was once again gone.

"That door there," he indicated just outside her cell, "is the hose. Inject her with the tranquilizer first, clean her up, take her up to medical, and tell them I want her back down here as soon as possible. She is not to be allowed to regain consciousness for even a moment."

The two guards stood there while processing his commands before nodding as they finally started to move. While one opened the metal door to the hose area, the other stepped inside the cell and slid the needle into her neck. He wanted to make sure that she never knew that anyone ever came into her cell. Right now, she was still unconscious from her actions, dangling from the chain as her body arched since her shins and thighs rested on the floor. With the sensory deprivation hood on she wouldn't have been able to hear them enter even if she'd been awake.

He doubted that she even knew that a guard came in twice a day to pump the meals through her feeding tube. It had a longer extension to it so that the guard was still over two feet away from her at all times. It was after her time in the training room when she was fed, the times when she was heavily unconscious from exhaustion. Since she had never moved or indicated that she knew someone was close, he felt the hood was doing that part of its job properly.

The guards finished using the water hose to clean up her lower body before he unhooked the arm binder from behind her back. Placing her unconscious on the gurney, they wheeled her away.

"Make sure that neither she or the other prisoner are conscious while she's in medical. She is not to know that she ever left this cell."

"Yes, Sir," one of them responded seconds before the elevator door shut.

This was only a minor setback. He would break her down, it just might take a few extra days.

He would have his tool back, one way or another.