It's up so soon?! Yes, yes it is and in much better quality writing. All thanks to my playlist and my amazing reviewer! Asset Omega makes a new ally and has a little breakdown in this chapter...

Things were too awkward at the point I was, so I skipped ahead just a little to make things flow. It worked out quite nicely.

"They're terrorists just as much as I am." Bucky poked a metal finger in his friend's face. Steve sighed and glanced at the two-way glass that separated them from Bucky's... New, or rather old friends. The teenagers had been brought in yesterday kicking and screaming, guns blazing (much to Bucky's disapproval) and were currently restrained and being interrogated. Steve was conflicted. On one hand, they were important to his best friend, meaning they were important to Steve by default. They were like Bucky, been trained by him, and for all Steve knew they could be just as damaged as his friend. On the other hand the two were unpredictable to everyone besides his friend. They had the former assassin's killing skills multiplied by two with a temperament to match. The Captain would have to choose his next words and actions carefully. If he knew nothing and Bucky knew everything maybe he should give the responsibility to his friend. It would be difficult due to everyone's mistrust in the reformed Hydra agent but not impossible as long as Steve oversaw everything. That was the plan now, all that was undecided was where the two would be held while such plans could be put into effect.

"Okay Buck-" Steve was cut off before he could unveil is thoughts. Something sounding like too much like a gunshot came from the other side of the glass had drawn Bucky's attention away completely. He didn't know if he even wanted to look at what his friend was ogling at, but he supposed he had to. The scene was something to behold. The boy was pointing a smoking pistol at the far left corner of the room, towards an unidentified man that was slumped to the floor. A large circle of blood was seeping through the man's tidy suit just above where his heart should be. Steve looked sideways. The girl had the interrogator backed into the right corner nearest to the window, guarding him securely behind her back with her own gun raised over her brother's shoulder for reassurance. How had all of this happened without Bucky or Steve noticing? Speechless, the super-soldier's jaw slacked. The boy, lowering his gun mouthed something (inaudible due to the almost soundproof glass) without taking his eyes off of the stranger whom he'd just shot and maybe killed. The girl mouthed something back, fear manifesting in her expression. The interrogator, a skinny man dawning glasses, said something that made both teenagers turn to face him. Both simultaneously dropped their weapons. Once that was done, nothing less than an army of armed agents spilled into the small hexagon-walled room to subdue the pair of assassins. Coming out of his astonished trance, Steve looked aside, assuming to see his friend but Bucky was gone.

"Bucky!" Steve called out as he opened the exit to the observation room. Bucky was already long gone and out of sight, and Steve knew without a doubt, he wouldn't be seeing anything of his friend for some time. If his friend left without a word it usually meant that he didn't want to be found. As always the super-soldier respected his friend's choice to disappear and decided in a flash that he would deal with the current situation happening a room away. Steve wasn't in his uniform today, having only come in to talk to Bucky about what Natasha told him over the phone but hopefully that wouldn't sway the agent's willingness to follow orders. Steve rushed through the small observation room (Carelessly trying not to look at what was going on) again to the opposite door which led him into a smaller hall that curved into another small hallway that had two doors at the end. The captain had to enter a four-digit key code to open the door to the interrogation room which (thank God) he remembered. Once the door slid open the scene had settled.

"Captain Rogers." The interrogator stepped through the group of agents to greet the Captain with a handshake. Right now Steve didn't want to entertain pleasantries, but shook the man's hand anyway. Steve wasn't anything if not respectful after all. Steve could tell that the smaller man was just as surprised about all of this as he was by the way sweat beaded on his brow and the way his hand shook as the Captain released it. As the two broke eye contact and somehow shifted to stand shoulder to shoulder in the crowded room, now in front of the pair of assassins. Steve took a very personally objection to the way they looked defeated, the way they hung their heads.

"Where are they going now?" He asked the man standing beside him.

"They're being moved to the underground cell until we can get this mess cleaned up. After that they'll be back here." He replied, sighing deeply as his eyes darted from one sibling to the other. Steve stepped aside for the six-agent detail and the kids they pushed forward through the door. The Captain watched after them for a few moments, debating on whether or not to follow, maybe get a word in with the teenagers before anything drastic happened.

"Sir, you're permitted to engage with them despite the lack of actually being called for duty." Steve nodded in self-confirmation and without a second more's thought otherwise followed the path of the agents out of the second door. While following the group he kept a particularly close eye on the boy. He was stumbling every few steps and the guards hadn't seemed to acknowledge it or slow down for him to regain his footing. The girl however, she noticed, and would whisper something sidelong to him after each stumbling step he took, not unlike Bucky used to do for him after one of his fights. Sometimes, Steve knew, a quiet word from your best friend is the one thing that keeps you walking straight. This pattern continued until they were at the base of three flights of stairs, where one of the agents pressed a key card to an empty space on the concrete wall. A hidden door ground open, hydraulics hissing with effort as the most secure room on the base's complex was opened and prepared for it's newest inhabitants. The cell wasn't much different than the one upstairs if not bigger, but still had the hexagonal panels that were nearly indestructible lining the floor and walls.

"Keep moving." Steve caught one of the agents saying to the boy. His eyes were dilating, and his sister seemed to be distressed, pulling at the arms that kept her moving forward. Something in Captain was unnerved by this, like he'd seen it before. Steve could have, should have, jumped in then to check the kid out. The girl was frantic, but still silent, and her brother's feet were dragging with each step.

"Captain Rogers, are you staying?" One agent asked, the girl's head whipping around to scowl in Steve's direction. He nodded to the agent, who nodded back and proceeded to command his agents once more.

"Restrain them." Not happening. Steve shifted in the most noticeable of ways, scowling to get his point across that they were most definitely not going to do that.

"Er, never mind." The agent corrected himself just as The two were being fastened to high-powered magnet panels in the wall. The girl wouldn't stop glaring at him, her green eyes challenging him to make another move. Steve wanted to help, for Bucky's sake and for theirs. For God's sake one of them was nearly unconscious and both of them were too much like Bucky when Steve had first found him. They were scared, though they wouldn't let it show. The captain had mastered dealing with ex-assassins, knew enough, and right now they just needed someone to care.

"Will you need anything Captain?" The agents were all filing out now except one.

"I'll be fine." Steve replied, nodding his thanks to the agent as he back out of the cell leaving just the three of them. The girl was no longer occupying herself with the Captain.

"What did he shoot you up with?" She muttered, worrying over her brother's limp body. He mumbled something incoherent, closing his eyes with a very deep exhale. He seemed to be fully gone by then, but Steve took an almost involuntary step forward.

"Who the hell are you?" The girl spat, standing to defend her brother. No doubt their bionic limbs had been altered in some way during their stay, to make them less powerful but enough to function. Upon first arriving, Bucky had asked Stark to do the very same thing, so the genius billionaire being as such developed a program that reduced the functionality of Hydra's tech. All that, leading to the fact she couldn't crush his hand if he offered a handshake.

"Steve Rodgers." He extended his hand, putting the other one in his leather jacket pocket, as if this were just a meeting of new friends.

"They called you Captain. You're a military man." She stated, refusing the handshake, crossing her arms.

"I used to be." Steve said, unsure of what else to add to the conversation, really wanting to speed it along so he could look at the kid on the floor.

"You know the Soldier." She stated, her frown somewhat lifting into recognition.

"Bucky. He's my friend." One brow raised skeptically.

"He has a name? And it's Bucky?" Steve was taken aback by the chuckle she let out. Uncrossing her arms, she held out a relaxed hand.

"Asset Omega. Nice to meet you." He took her hand and shook it firmly, noticing the way the panels shifted and slid under his touch. She let go, and in doing so Steve took it as a silent sign of allowance. He moved around her, kneeling low next to the body of the young man. His cheeks were bright pink, like a violent blush, sweat soaked his messy light brown hair and the collar of his Avengers-issued T-shirt. Steve was positive he had a fever, but out of sheer instinct placed the palm of his hand over the kid's brow. Sure enough he was burning up. For a moment, the kid reminded Steve of his pre-serum self. Always sick with fever, his mother tended to him hand and foot when she was alive. When she died, Bucky had taken on that role, and however much Steve said he hated it... He was more grateful than any kid from Brooklyn could be.

"The Hydra agent that broke in hit him with some kind of poison. Not enough to kill him. The vile was only partially emptied." The girl said quietly, as if not to disturb the Captain.

"We need to cool him off." She added thoughtfully. Steve nodded and turned to observe the sparse room. If he remembered correctly, there was a panel somewhere that made a bed spring out of the wall. And another one that send down food and water. Of course the panels were only activated by certain thumb prints. The Captain stood and swiftly, almost gracefully, crossed the room, pressing his thumb into one of the hexagonal panels. A blue laser flashed, sure enough a few feet away a bed had sprung from the wall, sheets, pillow and all. Steve did the same for the next panel over. The super-soldier was surprised when a sink, and cabinet ejected from the wall this time. He knelt, opened the cabinet and found plush white towels folded neatly and stacked one on top of the other. He smirked. Someone was probably watching them. That same someone might have sent all this just for the occasion.

"Yes, Steve. The towels are very pretty. Can we get to the bigger problem here?" The snark was well received (Though partially ignored), and Steve got to work immediately.

"You know the Soldier." She'd asked the same question at least three times now, still not receiving the answer she craved for. The Captain wasn't reluctant to much as ignorant to reveal the answer.

"Yes, I know Bucky." That name. The Soldier was menacing, intimidating, scary for lack of a better description. And through all these years of being influenced by his dark nature... His name was Bucky. It was a name at least. A mark of identity that was the lifeline in a storm. Something to be grounded on when you lost your way. Your name was you. And she was Asset Omega, second banana to her brother that she was never envious of (yet, for emotions still clawed for attention) but strove to be like. Asset Omega, the lowest rank in a pack of three assassins. Three in a pack that had recently been shattered by free will and something called the Avengers. That would have to change along with everything else. If life was changing, so must they, side by side as always with new marked identities. She looked up at the Captain, piecing together an almighty question that would help her to understand.

"Why is his name Bucky?" The large blonde stopped his worrying for a moment to draw a hand over his hair. After a deep exhale he responded.

"His name is James Buchanan Barnes." Ah. The soldier had not one but three names, and James didn't even suit him. Bucky was a nickname. In her terms, an alias, something that kept one identity but shrouded another.

"Bucky is short for his middle name. Buchanan." She deducted flatly. With her brother half-dead she needed someone to filter her thoughts, and unlike her brother this man remembered what the world was like. Rogers seemed more than happy to reply, answer questions. He was good, practiced even.

"That's right." He stopped all together now, started walking over to her comfortable observation area in the corner of the room. She was going to allow him to sit, maybe converse on who she was. Maybe her name. But no, the way he walked confidently, towered over her... She didn't like that. Too many times had that situation ended with a beating.

"Don't." She commanded, up in a flash to stand as tall and defiant in her little corner. A small victory on her part, now she could fight back in the little ways she couldn't before. Much to her delight he backed away and went on with his business. Another first. She would surely revel in this later, but right now her brother needed to get over being poisoned. By Hydra. The ones who ruined their lives, turned them into weapons. Disposable by those in power, yet loose ends that needed tying off before they could give any locations (or otherwise) away to their enemies. The thought made her blood boil with anger. Nothing more than Asset Omega. Blind anger took control, faster than lightning she was throwing fist after fist into the wall.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Each punch brought on a fresh wave of hatred for them. They'd pay pay for it all. They'd all die for what they've done to countless lives.

Clang! Clang! Clang clang clang! Clangclangclangclang!

Reality was slipping through her fingertips, melding with the horrors of her young life. And her speed was picking up. Just. Keep. Hitting. Her subconscious roared through the red haze, knock it down. Knock it all down. Kill it!

"Kill him! Do it!"

"No!" She threw the gun at her handler, who in turn payed her a mindful swat to her face.

Keep hitting.

"Kill him."

"N-no." Reluctance. Defiance. Another beating.

Keep hitting.

"Kill. Him."

"Yes sir." The man in the chair squirmed, writhed, desperately called out upon deaf ears. She killed him.

Keep hitting... Keep... Hitting...

"Omega!" That voice, she knew it, knew it knew it knew it! Not allowed to know. Not allowed. Source find the source and destroy it. Keep hitting.

"Stop!" Clearer now. Easier to find. Keep hitting.

"Omega stop!" She was not Omega. She was not their tool, weapon, pet! No more! Keep hitting.

"Sis. Stop." Subdued. The source wasn't fighting. Not fighting... Why? Why why why?

"That's it. That's it, come on back." Awareness. A face. His face, pinned below her, bloody from an onslaught of her punches.

"Alpha?" The rage haze was broken. It was clear again. So clear... I just tried to kill my brother. The only one... Oh god. She froze in horror, staring down at the battered form of the brother she cared so much for, loved, brought down by her own hand. He didn't fight back.

"Alpha?" She whined.

"It's me, it's me. Put it down sis." She twisted her neck, gazing up at the weapon clenched in her fist, an unidentified shard of metal. With a gasp, she let it fall.

"No."

"Sis, I'm here." She tried to concentrate, to not allow what had just transpired to gain a foothold. His voice could be trusted, so she zeroed in on that.

"I- You- You didn't fight-" She wailed, sitting back on her heels.

"I couldn't. You have a better face than me." He pulled back, mimicking her position, cupping her face with his cool touch. She leaned into it, reached out, pulling his presence as close as humanly possible. Her whole world was this. Was him. His voice. And she wasn't letting go. Never.

He stroked her tussled hair rhythmically, soothing the ball of rage that was his little sister. Armored guards were watching all around. Somehow the large blonde stranger (who the boy would like to talk to later, maybe thank him) had convinced the soldiers to let him handle it. How he handled it, was by letting Asset Alpha handle it. All this was too complicated. He was still so damn dizzy from being pummeled that none of it had any significance or weight on his consciousness. He was aware, he just didn't care about anything. That is, except for her. The one sobbing into his shoulder. The one who clung to him like a lifeline.

"I should have some pretty cool scars after this sis." He murmured softly, beginning to rub soothing circles on her back. Her breath became uneven, escalating to a point she wasn't breathing properly.

"Breathe, sis. In and out." It took too long for her to regain composure and stop sobbing. He blinked, allowing her to hold on as long as she needed. He didn't care. Things were going to hell faster than anyone could account for and he hated that. He hated everyone accept her, and maybe the Soldier and his friend. Other than that, well, he despised everyone and everything that moved. Lucky for the guards, they were too disciplined to move. Lucky for the guards, that word was plural and his limbs had been weakened. Lucky lucky them.

"You need to take a shower. And a haircut." She mumbled, loosening her death-grip on his torso so that green eyes met.

"Yeah, well..." He glanced at his own nearly shoulder-length hair. She was right dammit. Any situation where she was right was a situation best avoided. Yet, she deserved it. Let the tiger have her bone for once.

"I... You're right." She hummed in obvious satisfaction. In a moment her gaze was lifting to the guards that were behind him.

"Is the issue resolved?" One identified guard asked from the ring. If he was supposed to answer, they had another thing coming. His days of answering to anyone were over. As were hers, even if he had to be an advocate for her opinion. The boy put a gentle touch to his sister's shoulders and stood up most confidently. She followed suit. Both were shaky, off balanced, disoriented, angry and lost... But seeing them stand there with such confidence surrounded by weapons... It was a good start.

So that happened very very abruptly, I know, but that's the whole point. I plan for her to have this as her flaw/arc whatever. She goes into a rage haze whenever provoked.

A/N: Please don't expect other chapters to be up in this short amount of time, for all I know it could be a one time thing -shrugs-

Reviews are appreciated so much. Please review. Don't even favorite unless you really like it. Don't hit favorite until you love it, and please review until I make you want to love it.

Peace out Marvel homies.