WARNING- as the title would suggest, this chapter does contain scenes of torture (not in depth though) and general ickiness for Iris (and Bucky actually)

"You work for SHIELD."

"Everyone works for SHIELD, Iris, whether you signed the papers or not."

"Where is he?"

"Frozen. Mr Stark will live for yet another day."

"What are you going to do to me?"

He smirked once more from his stance across the room. Blood had matted itself into the back of her hair, lips drying with every shaky breath.

"I'm going to let you live."

His 'friend' was called Sergeant Rowell, and he was currently preparing himself for her torture.

"It's nothing personal," he said, "it's just my orders. Don't worry- it'll be over soon, and then you can go."

It started with her stomach, just like the recruits did. A few punches around her head until the commander reminded him that he wanted her tortured, not bullied.

Needles in her fingers. Skin ripped from her skull. Screams echoing around the small room. She wasn't scared of them; the noise was for her own comfort. To remind her that she was still alive, and they didn't have him just yet.

It ended with a sad look and a hammer to her knees, to which she promptly passed out. Even in her sleep, she could feel the nerves in her legs and hear the whimpers in her throat.

"Are you healing well?" Pierce asked once he was seated opposite her. She stared at him through blank eyes, ignoring the thumping of blood underneath her lips and the bandages on her legs. A glass of water sat untouched on the table.

"Why did you take his memories away in the first place?" Straight to the point. No time for dawdling.

"He wouldn't have served us otherwise."

"There are other ways though. Safer ways. I served you. Why break him and not me?"

"Oh Iris." He sighed mockingly, nodding at the man who brought in an old TV, passing a tape to Pierce. Her eyes narrowed, knowing that they'd grown tired of physical torture once they realised there was no goal in it. Pain might make her scream and pain might make her weak, but pain was never going to break her into submission, just like pain was never going to work with him. Bucky.

"He was a broken man long before we got to him. Do you want to see the footage?" Her stomach clenched unnaturally as he played with the tape. All I know is that HYDRA, the old one, caught me... "Here at HYDRA, we like to keep our records in order." The tape slid into the TV. She choked back a sob as his image came on to the screen, a shorter haired Bucky lying strapped to a table unconscious.

They started with simple samples. Blood tests, DNA. When he woke up, they quickly beat him back to sleep. A doctor arrived with a sour faced man who nodded at the cluster of men, sending them away. He stared down at Bucky, half-listening to the words spilling from the doctor's mouth. There was no sound.

The man left with a single instruction, leaving the doctor alone. He looked at Bucky with sympathy as he woke, fighting against the new straps holding him down. The doctor collected a syringe and a bottle filled with a murky substance. Bucky shouted as it was injected into his arm, his mouth screaming right until the moment he passed out. The doctor sighed, taking his pulse with knowing eyes. Another check. A wide-eyed expression.

Pierce fast-forwarded to where Bucky had reawakened. The sour-faced man had returned with the doctor, both watching as one of their soldiers approached him and withdrew a knife. A long cut down his chest. The blood covered it up, making the change just out of vision. But there was Pierce, zooming in, letting her see the cut as a single layer of skin varnished over the top of it, preventing any more blood from pulsating out of him.

He had survived the fall due to the alien substances in his blood.

"Alien."

"Nearly. Not quite human though. Now if you excuse me, I still have to eat. But please, carry on watching- you're nearly at the good part."

She didn't register his departure with her eyes, staying focused on the screen. The sour-faced man smiled, his long fingers trailing delicately over the new skin. Bucky stared down in horror. He snapped another order at the torturer, standing back as the knife traced more lines across his skin, each one getting deeper and deeper until the flesh was peeling away from each other. Bucky's eyes began to glaze over as the hours passed, more substances being pumped into him while blood was ripped out. If there had been noise, she'd be hearing his shouts of submission, along with the background noise of screams from other prisoners, the substances burning their veins away.

He was a broken man long before we got to him.

Underneath her breath, she whispered "technically it was still you who broke him- 70 years doesn't change the fact that it was HYDRA."

When Pierce glanced at her through the one-way window at the side of the room, he barely caught the familiar smirk and sparkling eyes before they was gone.

Indifferent.

"Are you going to talk?" He asked from across the table. A half drank cup of water sat in between them. She grinned, seeing the fear flash through his eyes before she spoke.

"Why should I? I don't work for you." She lent in, her words mere hisses in the air. "I work for S.H.I.E.L.D.. Papers or no papers."

He snarled, leaving the room in a fit of anger. The grin disappeared from her face as she thought of fists and video tapes and trays of weapons.

Behind her the door opened. Someone clicked her cuffs open, letting her rub her wrists free of pain.

The relief was short-lived.

Her skin was on fire, each knife peeling up more and more flesh and blood as the night went on.

Somebody was pulling on her hair, telling her that she wasn't good enough.

The Soldier stood in the corner of the room, watching her through cold eyes. Every other version she'd seen of him stood in the background, fading away to echoes.

Whenever she woke up following the nightmares, she was alone in her prison room. Walking still made her cringe. Noises still made her jump. Brown hair still made her cry.

"I thought you were dead."

"I thought you were smaller."

He was released once. She passed him in the corridor and stood watching him as he walked away.

It took five minutes of waiting until she was sure she wasn't going to cry.

2012. The ceiling shook as New York screamed, Loki cackling above them (at least that was how she pictured it) One of the papers found it's way into her hands, pictures of the heroes plastered across every page.

"Rogers. His last name was Rogers." She whispered into the empty room, as if there was some part of him back in that freezer that could still hear her, no matter how many walls separated them.

"Miss Williams?"

She looked up at the wary soldier in her doorway. In her lap was the files she was meant to be checking for HYDRA on two of their newest recruits- twins with 'magical' abilities; underneath her pillow was the collection of newspapers she's gathered, each containing a new story on the Avengers or SHIELD, one even showing a picture of her sister while clearing up London after Thor.

"The commander wishes to see you."

She smirked despite herself. "His name is Alexander Pierce, soldier. Don't let him tell you anything else." Still she followed down the familiar twists and turns of the corridors, her slight limp almost invisible to the eye.

It was 2014.

Author's Note

I decided to split the chapter into two to help it make more sense, adding that little chapter up there for time stuff. Thanks for your reviews and support, especially NotMarge and DarkHorseBlueSky!

Anyway, I was thinking of a sequel. I'm doing it either way (because who can resist?) but I just wanted to see how many of you would read it. A lot of people are doing post-Winter Soldier stories with their version of the next movie, but the difference of mine will be that it will have our lovely Iris here in it ;) (prepare for fluffiness)

If you don't like the idea, unhappy face :( in your well appreciated review (if you want) If you do like the idea, happy face :) and maybe a suggestion for the title? Thanks! :)