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TW- Knives

While I wanted to think I was better than them- that I was able to resist whatever psychological rewiring they were doing in my brain, I wasn't superhuman. Sure, maybe I was a little better at understanding complex math and creating destructive technology than the other girls, but that in no way meant that I was immune to the chanting and the weird comfort I found in my routine after that first week. My mind wasn't foolproof, so I needed to keep my goal in mind at every moment of the day. I needed to know how I planned to escape with Barb.

"Masha!"

I was led into a separate room the next morning, pulled away from my group while they went down for breakfast. Fortunately, this separate room did not leave me hungry, so I ate and went over my monthly plan in my head.

The night before my five week mark, I was going to sneak a bobby pin to bed after ballet class where we needed our hair in buns. Barb and I would be able to escape our handcuffs with it after I take it out. Then, before anyone knew we were up, I'd wish myself out of here.

Did I know this would work? No, but this place was very dead set on teaching me how to face and control the very thing keeping me from wishing myself away at any given point in time. I also, technically, had little evidence to support that just wishing myself somewhere would take me there with my new condition, but my past experiences backed it up enough to support the plan.

It was foolproof.

A door opened on the far left corner of the room and I sped up my eating, trying to get as much as I could into my mouth from the plate before Pavlov took it from me and ordered me up. I listened as if the submission to her command was a natural function. The speed in which I'd gotten up at her word had me pausing before I could enter the new room. It wasn't a good feeling that churned my full stomach at the idea of falling for this place.

The room that I was brought into held a map on the table with four younger women I didn't know standing around. The Headmaster was there too, standing off to the side expectantly, watching me with those beady little eyes of his and double chin popping out of his suit.

"You have ten minutes." The young woman with red hair stated, setting a stopwatch in her hand. "In that time, you will tell us how to extract David Anderson from his prison. If you fail, he will be executed."

My eyes went wide with horror as I darted them around the room. "What?"

"There is only one correct answer." She continued over my panic, "You have a team of four black widows, each with one main strength and all with advanced combat skills."

"Executed?" I shrieked back, marching up to the table where they stood in a fit of anger. "That wasn't part of the deal! You have him! Let him go!"

Suddenly, I was wondering how much pain I would endure to get Mr. Anderson myself. Barb was still here though and running around while possibly exposing myself to heaps of pain and nauseating headaches wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Quiet." Headmaster snipped, shutting me up faster than I was comfortable with. "Would you like us to execute him now?"

I shook my head, speaking through my teeth. "No, sir."

He huffed at me as if I was merely a pin in his side before the other woman spoke up again.

"One of your agents is proficient in speed, another for stealth, another for strength, and the last has charisma." She explained, making me want to throw the table in frustration from how indifferent her voice was. "The map in front of you shows the base, the guards, and everything that stands between you and David Anderson. Questions will be tolerated to a degree."

"Do they all have to live?"

She nodded once while I scanned over the map, already feeling like I was being tricked. There was only one real entrance, but if I were a secret spy, I'd use the vent system to get in…

I looked up at her again. "This isn't the only map. I want one of the air vents too."

The Headmaster's eye twitched when he looked over at me quizzically. "There's an entrance there."

"But I don't want to use the main entrance." I cleared my throat, shifting in my place and trying not to get intimidated by the stares. "I think…I want to use the vents to get in. It's not monitored and my widows are all in peak physical form, so they should fit without trouble."

Something was still missing. Even as one of the women, silent as the others, took a print from the cabinet and laid it in front of me. This map, of course, revealed vents on a basement level in the base, showing me exactly where I wanted to go. I told them how I'd get in, how I'd get Mr. Anderson out, and how I'd do it all with minimal detection. They asked me what I'd do if he were injured, and what I'd do if a guard sounded the alarm, among other questions and hypotheticals until I was running with sixty seconds left.

"Have you finished, Masha?" Headmaster asked, standing closer to the table now, watching me intently with the other women.

I stared at my board silently for a few seconds more, knowing for sure I was missing something and now hoping to run my train of thoughts right into whatever it was.

"They wouldn't run this mission anyway." I tried, looking up at him. "Black Widows have no reason to collect an American Soldier, unless you suspect he knows something. But this man isn't of high rank and his own men wouldn't lock him up. Besides, don't Black Widows…"

He raised an eyebrow when I trailed off and looked back down.

"Oh," I felt the idea hit me like a brick in the chest. "I failed."

"You have twenty four seconds." He reminded me easily, "You've certainly held an impressive strategy."

"But it's only one Black Widow, isn't it?" I asked, locking my eyes with his. "She described the traits all black widows have. Every last one of them could've done that job on their own."

"You're choosing to send only one Black Widow?" He asked back, not changing his expression.

"All the things I described them doing- could've been done by one woman with all those traits." I sucked in a deep breath, praying that my stupid brain would hold me up right now. "If you had four to send in, it may work out well, but the answer you wanted was that you only needed one. Your program is perfect and any of your graduates would be able to tackle this base without trouble all by herself."

He nodded slowly at that and then gestured to the red haired woman to take the prints off the table. I couldn't help but notice how she tensed a little more, picking them up with a death grip between the pads of her fingers.

"Which Widow will you send?"

He asked the question while rounding the table to stand on my side again while I looked across at the women now.

I frowned a little and flickered my eyes between him and them. "What?"

"These are your options." He gripped my shoulders from behind, squeezing just tight enough to pinch my muscles and hurt. "Our program is flawless, is it not? So…pick just one. Just as you insisted."

"Well," I opened and shut my mouth, biting my lip next from the pain in my shoulders. "I want to change my plan-"

"Too late." He pinched harder. "Pick your Snow White."

"Red hair." I blurted finally, letting a whoosh of air release from my lungs after he let go.

The young woman who couldn't be older than twenty stifled a wince, hiding it well enough that the Headmaster didn't see.

"Inessa." He stood up straighter, "Return to your room. You will be summoned for your mission after sunset. If you fail to stick to her plan or otherwise do not successfully complete this mission, you will be executed alongside your team and David Anderson."

I felt my gut twist at the responsibility that just got dropped on my shoulders. Not only was I responsible for Mr. Anderson and Deb right now, but now if my plan didn't work, I'd have four more lives on my hands. I wouldn't sacrifice a piece on my board for four of his. In fact, I'd rather make it out of this chess game without losing a single piece. This was starting to look like a less and less achievable goal.

"You're really going to give him back, right?" I asked, looking up at the Headmaster. "Send him back home?"

"His people will come for him." He assured me with a sickening smile. "Go enjoy your movie now."

I didn't like how comforting it was to sit down in that room again with the movie playing and start reciting all the lines. It was worrisome how relaxed I became upon being pushed back into my routine that day. I loved it, and for that, I hated myself. In order to keep my sanity I tried to talk to Barb in the ballet changing room about my brothers and home. She talked about hers too, reminding me that she missed her little brother too. I told her I only missed Bucky.

We were paired up to fight during hand to hand combat class for the first time too. It wasn't a fun experience, especially with our instructor constantly yelling at us to hit harder. I think this pairing of hers became her new favorite afterwards because we were paired up the next day too while I was worrying about Mr. Anderson and wondering if he got to safety.

I was in the middle of being pinned down by Barb when the Headmaster appeared in the courtyard and stood off to the side to watch us. The teacher instructed Barb to let me go and we both got up, returning to our spots on the sides. Then, she proceeded to pick out the two girls who never held back in combat- Jo and some other girl named Vera that was always so much better at ballet than us. She was the one who joined me on Saturday and she never pulled her punches. I hated sparring with her, especially because she always liked to kick at my knees and kidneys.

I got a motion from the Headmaster from where he stood.

"Masha," My teacher got my attention. "Go speak with your Headmaster."

I obeyed quietly, letting the command take me while my gut swam with snakes and nerves. He stood in front of me, towering over me with this horribly serious stare.

"Your mission was a failure." He said, reciting it like I was his greatest disappointment. "Inessa was executed this morning with David Anderson. I expected better from you."

I felt bile rise up in my throat, but all I could do was stare dead ahead until he gave me the command to return to line. Tears fogged up my eyes while I stood there, but I didn't cry. I wanted to throw up. First Bucky and now Mr. Anderson? How would I ever explain to Rose that her dad wasn't ever coming back? How would I tell Lillian? In one day, I'd made them orphans just like me.

I never thought I'd regret not wishing myself somewhere to help someone, but now the fact that I hadn't made me feel so irredeemably selfish. I could never return home now knowing that I was the cause of Rose and Lillian losing the last of their family. They were all probably better off without me anyhow. Steve wouldn't have the burden of a little sister holding him back if I stayed here.

"Maybe Jo's right." I whispered, looking over at Barb while we laid in bed that night with our hand bound up. "Maybe ending the war is all we need."

"Don't say that." Barb's voice broke. "You said you were going to get us out of here. Don't say stuff like that."

"I can get you out." I pulled my blanket up closer to my chin. "But I think it's better for everyone if I stay."

"But we were going to get married."

"You don't wanna marry me." I sniffled, my face heating up and eyes blurring over. "I made my best friend an orphan. Just like me."

"You can marry girls?" Lucy voiced quietly from behind me. "I don't believe that."

Barb took a deep breath and sighed a little. "I forgive you. If you won't get us home, I'll find a way."

I wanted to reply to that, but I didn't really have it in me and just rolled over onto my back to try and sleep. Missing my older brothers and the guilt eating away at my chest kind of made that difficult though.

The next morning, I found it so much easier to let myself be taken by the system of commands and routine. Everything was easier when I wasn't trying to think for myself. They handed me math equations that were different from the other girls in my class and strategy hypotheticals that none of the others got too. I had separate assignments when it came to basic education, but in physical activity, I was pushed the same. And I let them push me.

I was too tired to fight it anymore. Now I just felt like giving in.

By the end of the week, I'd stopped pulling my punches with Barb too. The teacher was more than pleased to see my change in attitude and started pairing me up with Vera instead. Come Saturday too, it was only me and her in that ballet class again while Barb got more practice sparring. I think my newfound loss of identity sort of drove the wedge down between us. Week three brought persistence on her end, but I just never found it in me to care anymore. Well, for the most part.

"Mary?"

I felt her hand slip into mine in the ballet changing room while we waited and my palms immediately went sweaty. I looked at her hand quickly. "Barb?"

"Hi," She smiled, meeting my eyeline finally and squeezing my gloved hand in a way that sent sparks across my stomach. "Can you help me keep my back straight for a second while I do a plie? I can never get it right and I don't want to get picked on again today."

I opened and shut my mouth, my tongue growing dry from the contact on my hand while I looked between her and our interlaced fingers for a second. My voice came out as hardly a whisper.

"Sure."

When she let go of my hand again and got up, I missed the feeling almost immediately. The warmth melted away into the floor as I got up too to watch her back while she got into position. I opened my mouth initially to say something while closing my hand tight in the gloves as if to preserve the feeling. How I missed being able to hold hands properly with people?

"Maybe pick your chin up a little." I suggested quietly, getting an agreeing nod from Jo.

"Here?" She raised her chin a little.

I frowned and reached forward to raise it more with my hand, touching two fingers just below her chin to raise it more. "Jo?"

For a minute, I felt connected to the moment. I felt real with my heart racing and nervous bile rising in my throat before I tucked my hand back against my side. Barb's ears turned red and she settled down to a regular standing position, looking away with a nervous smile.

She laughed a little. "Thanks."

I looked away too, feeling the guilt piling into my stomach again, "I'm sorry."

She looked at me again but didn't have a chance to say anything else as the door was opened and we were pushed into our lesson. I really wanted to get lost in the motions again, but it was hard with the residual feeling of Barb's hand burning my fingertips. It made my face turn red just thinking about it, so I pushed it out of mind as we moved along to math class afterwards. Well, the rest of the girls moved along to math class, I was taken aside once again and sat down in a private room with a desk and a notebook.

"You will design us something." A woman stated evenly, setting a pen in front of me. "A functioning prosthetic arm."

Internally, I frowned a bit, wondering what kind of help this may end up being to the enemy side of the war. Helping amputees didn't seem like the worst thing ever though. Instead, it seemed like a nice thing to do, even if it meant that I was giving them more bodies to fight wars since they'd have limbs back. Plus, if I wanted to protest designing anything for them, I knew that I likely couldn't. I took a moment to be grateful they weren't asking me to design weapons of mass destruction before getting right to it.

Next thing I knew, I was asking for a medical textbook and thinking up ways to integrate tissue with artificial tendons and bone. Of course, there were no medical trials for me to work on or test, so it wasn't like I'd really know if my theories would work at all. Essentially, I made the mechanical side of it confidently and then tried to imagine how it would all actually connect to the person.

I couldn't help the small smile I had growing on my face though while I moved pieces around and started new pages. Math filled sheets while I worked like a maniac with a grin. The sense of excitement that filled me finally after being numb or anxious all these days was amazing. I didn't want it to end, so I kept going with my design, riding the wave of joy like a child who'd been given a bucket of candy.

I tried to start a foot prototype, but the lady monitoring me snatched it away after she saw I was looking through unrelated pages in the medical textbooks.

"Dinner now." She ordered, turning to walk out a door on the far side of the room with my notebook. "Straight there."

I waited for a moment, expecting to be escorted, but nobody came for me. After a minute of that and a tiny bit of disappointment as I came down from the high, I got up to leave too and exited into the hall. I looked to my left, knowing the direction to the dining hall well with that smell of the chicken they always cooked reaching my nose, but hesitating none-the-less. Rebellious behavior would not be tolerated here, and had I left that room as numb as I had gone in, I might've just walked right to dinner like she ordered.

But today was a day of good feelings, so maybe I could break the rules just a little. It wasn't like I'd done anything wrong at all since I first got here. You know, besides killing my best friend's father.

I stopped halfway through my step to the right, that horrible pitted churn rising in my gut again and my eyes pinching from the start of tears. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"I'm letting it happen." I whispered to myself, stopping to stare down the right end of the hall. "Please, god, if you're listening, don't let me abandon Barb. Only I deserve to suffer here for what I did to Mr. Anderson."

I took a deep breath in the silence, smoothing my clothes and taking a step forward.

"Maybe if Bucky's listening too," I started walking confidently to the right, speaking just under my breath to my brother. "Please don't let me do anything stupid."

The halls were basically bare now that it was meal time. In fact, I found it a little strange that they didn't even have monitors wandering around. Not that I'd ever walked around alone before, but you'd think a place that raised spies and killers would be pretty good at keeping track of them.

I tiptoed up to a window overlooking our courtyard and peered out, eyeing the older women while they trained at sunset. The red light of the sun descending on the horizon lit up the hallways like it were somehow making it true to its name. I almost turned back away toward the hardwood floors before my eyes caught on the sight of bright red hair done up in a bun. I squinted at the sight, hoping to make her clearer but the fact was already in front of me. That red haired girl was still here, and yet the Headmaster had told me she was executed with Mr. Anderson.

I stared for a moment, a smile reaching my face for a split second under the false hope that they'd both made it out alive and our Headmaster had lied. But, that hope came to pass as I realized that I was being stupid. It was more likely that the Headmaster had spared the asset and killed Mr. Anderson anyways. There was maybe a scrap of hope left that I could hold onto, but as I watched that red-haired girl go about her combat training like the robot this place made her, that hope was harder and harder to grasp.

At this point, I wasn't quite sure anymore what I'd gone to the right looking for. So, instead of continuing, I just sat down on the bench by the window and pulled my knees up too. I leaned my head down on the back of the bench with my arm placed for comfort below my chin. From there, I watched the girls train for a little bit, letting myself feel real while the sun set on my face.

I wondered if Steve worried about me. He couldn't be very happy with Bucky gone now and myself disappearing into the wind.

I contemplated it for a moment and then a couple more while I looked out that window. Some part of me wanted to brave the pain right now and leave. After Mr. Anderson and Bucky and just about everyone else in my life, I couldn't bear to lose one more. Barb would make it out of this place if it was the last thing I did. Of course, there was still the process of figuring out if it was possible to wish myself somewhere with anything in my hands, let alone a whole other person.

I wished Bucky were still alive while I watched those girls train and heard how the younger classes marched back upstairs toward me. Our bedroom was just down the hall from me, so it was kind of inevitable that they'd come this way. I debated getting up and going down to meet them halfway, but I ended up staying put, just watching that girl with the red hair.

"Masha." Pavlov snapped, grabbing my arm on her way by and yanking me up.

She hissed for me to get back in line in Russian, giving me a shove in that direction. Barb's eyes looked my way for a split second, but she quickly went back to minding her business as I lined up with the others. Honestly, I was shocked that I wasn't in more trouble as she let us all into bed and I got to change out my liquid nitrogen canisters on my hands. They were starting to get a little warm, so it was a bit necessary even if I was trying to ration them for as long as possible. I had two weeks left of them, bringing me right up to the time where the Headmaster promised me I would have to fight for my life.

"Where did they take you?" Barb asked after we'd been handcuffed to bed again, "Did you do more strategy stuff?"

I shook my head, staring hard at the ceiling and wondering about that girl with red hair. If I could ask her about Mr. Anderson, she would at least be able to tell me for sure what had happened to him. Unfortunately, getting her alone would be next to impossible here. I closed my eyes as if to hide from the world just a little more.

"Mary?"

"They just wanted me to design something for them." I whispered back, "Nothing bad. I don't know why."

"Cause you're smart, right?" She asked, definitely staring at me through the darkness. "You're still gonna get us out, right?"

I opened my eyes again to look at the ceiling for a second before nodding. "We can both leave soon. I can't help Steve from in here, and Mr. Jarvis is probably far past snapping his cap about all this."

Barb giggled, the sound echoing in the room like a bell that silenced the other girls. I looked over at her with a few others but she didn't seem to notice how they stared.

"He's probably dropped dead from fear." She snorted, rolling back onto her back. "I miss him too. Even if he always made you practice and do schooling instead of play outside."

It wasn't fun missing these people that mattered to me. They were all the family I had, and now that I thought about it, I wondered how much more I'd miss them if I stayed here. It was a thought that bounced around my mind all the rest of that next week as we started a new class on conversation.

Our academics changed a little, but we never stopped watching Snow White and running through those calming scenes. There seemed to be nothing wrong with Snow White and it never rubbed me the wrong way anymore. It was relaxing and a good way to settle in for the day.

Conversation and Social class was a difficult one to take that week at first though. We were encouraged to talk in front of teachers to girls older than us. By Friday we were put in nice dresses and handed a fancy glass with vinegar or lemon juice that we had to sip on politely in this ballroom. And as I was mentally preparing for my turn to do small talk with an older girl, the next group of them came in. None other than the girl with red hair walked in with them too.

It was like they didn't even want to hide it from me anymore that she was still alive. They wanted me to question myself. Luckily, I wasn't as jarred as Pavlov had probably expected since she narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously. I couldn't tell at first if my reaction was a pass in her books or a fail to her expectations.

When I went up to those bright green eyes and long flowing red hair with confidence, Pavlov looked pleased.

I smiled politely at her and walked up, expecting the same boring conversation that Lucy and Jo and Barb all had to participate in.

"Pleasure to meet you, I don't believe I have your name." I started, remembering to stand up straight and step lightly.

It was hard to remember all the things the girls before me got in trouble for.

"Good." She replied, taking a sip of her red drink and looking away.

I was taken aback by the response and accidently let it show on my face when I looked at her. No one had told me what to do if they were rude.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, trying to catch myself and hoping to god that I might get this right. "How do you know the host?"

Playing pretend with an uncooperative bitch wasn't exactly the tea party I expected.

"I don't."

She set her glass aside on a platter that one of the teachers was holding as if to be a servant of sorts at this fake party.

"Uh," I opened and shut my mouth, almost wanting to look at Pavlov for some sort of support here with this uncooperative lady. "I beg your…pardon?"

"Then beg."

Red Hair stepped forwards into my space and I felt the tip of a blade poking my stomach. She leaned toward my ear, only a few inches taller than myself at five feet and four inches.

"I killed him myself." She whispered, making a cold rush of blood run down my spine as my eyes went wide. "He begged for me to let him go. But you failed him, so now I hold to you the knife I slit his throat with."

I gripped the wrist where she held the knife to me and tried to take a step back. Her other hand came and gripped my opposite shoulder while the room continued to chat. It was clear that no one could tell what was happening except Pavlov. Could what she was saying be true? Did she really kill Mr. Anderson?

Anger boiled up and I could feel my face turning red when I looked her in the eye. One thing was very certain for me now and I didn't like how sure I was when I said it. Maybe I really was the monster they wanted to make me.

"I'll kill you." I whispered back, gripping her wrist tighter and holding out my glass for Pavlov to take.

She smiled at that, moving her hand fast from my shoulder as if to hit me in the neck. My combat training was nowhere near as extensive as hers, but it was good enough to help me deflect that attempt on my throat. I stopped her hand with my other wrist now that my hand was free before kicking at her leg. She sidestepped it easily, keeping the knife pressed close but never actually thrusting it into me.

Still, everyone continued to chat like nothing was happening. Her moves were quick and small, making our situation invisible in this fake party of ours. She slid the knife toward my back as I ducked my head away from another attack. It sliced through my nice dress and left a deep slice in my side. I gasped from the pain and bit my tongue to keep from making noise. The blood dripped onto my pretty gold dress and Red Hair gripped my arm next, leading me back toward a wall in this big room while I cringed from the pain.

"Make it work for you." She hissed, shoving me further from the teachers and pleasant conversations complemented with rolling music. "Come on, Mary."

I took a shaky breath and then another while she kept a pleasant and calm expression on her face. Even the way she held me tight wasn't suspicious from the outside. It was horrifying to be a part of. She could stab me forty times before anyone even noticed what had happened. Meanwhile the slice in my side fed pulsing heat and nail biting pain into my head, nearly forcing me into a dizzy spell.

"Use it!"

She slid the knife into her puffed sleeve before lowering her hand to grab my cut side. I couldn't help the whine that passed my lips when she did that. I slammed my fist back on the wall behind me to keep from crying out.

"Good." She looked between my eyes. "Punch me instead."

She was asking for it, wasn't she?

I gave her a swift punch toward her stomach that she caught with her now bloody hand. But something else clicked in my head as her hand wrapped around my wrist.

The pain wasn't a distraction. It was a tool.

I smiled suddenly, the pulsing in my side driving another punch and a kick. It hurt with each push, making every strike even more intentional and dangerous than the last. It never stopped hurting, but suddenly that pain was not holding me back.

The adrenaline felt good.

I landed a kick behind her knee finally and dropped her down on one with her arm behind her back.

"FAIL!" Pavlov's voice boomed through the room as she glared at me with those beady little eyes from a few yards away. "If you fight, you do so without drawing attention!"

I was so busy looking at her that I didn't have a chance to react to Red Hair getting up and spinning my arm behind my back before kicking me to the ground. My position pulled at the cut so I turned to sit on my butt, holding my side as it throbbed and radiated a stinging heat.

"My name is Dahlia." Red Hair said, offering out her hand in a polite way while standing over me.

"Infirmary," Pavlov snapped, looking between us, "Now."

Dahlia nodded, pulling me up while I cringed from the pain again. The cut was less fun when I couldn't fight people over it. Now it just sucked and hurt.

I was a little proud though as I hobbled out of the room in my ruined dress. The lesson finally clicked and I was dying now to wish myself somewhere again. If I could drive myself through the pain of transporting through space, maybe it'd be better this time. Dahlia didn't know it, but she might've just given me the last thing I needed to escape this place once and for all with Barb.

Dahlia sat in the room with me while our nurse stitched me up, coaching me through the motions like this was another lesson in this place. She didn't make me do any stitches on myself though thankfully.

"Right to bed." She ordered, "No activity tomorrow. Let it heal."

"I will inform her instructor." Dahlia got up and motioned me up off the table too.

The top half of my dress was pulled down and off so I only had the skirt of it covering my hips down and no shirt walking back to my room. It had a certain level of humiliation behind it, but the other girls were still at the 'party' so no one was around to see me walking back without half my clothes on.

Dahlia stood by quietly while I changed into a nightgown and suffered through that aching and itching pain on my stitched up side.

It's now or never, I thought to myself, sitting down on the bed when she returned with a pair of handcuffs that had a longer chain in between.

"Did you really?" I asked her, breaking the silence and making her hesitate halfway through clipping my wrist up.

"You have more important things to worry about." She clipped my hand up to the post. "A girl will bring you dinner."

"Dahlia?" I looked up at her hopefully, "Did you?"

She stood back up straight, turning to leave. "The Headmaster always keeps his word."

I laid back on the bed then, releasing a sigh. "Thank you."

She stopped in the door again for only a moment before shutting it behind her silently. Everything finally felt like it was going my way.