So, there's some implied psychological torture in this one. So if that's not your thing, then you probably shouldn't be reading this story.

Tiphanie: Yes! Sam entered! Sam is here! Kind of! And HA! I wrote it last night, but I didn't post it! :P

Awesomesaurs: Yay! I'm glad you like it!

Hannah: Yeah, she's going to be hard headed about everything. There's gonna be a lot of back and forth, so hold on, or you might get lost. I'll try not to let that happen, but I can't guarantee anything. Yeah, Sam seems like the guy that would call his girl 'Baby Girl.' I don't know. I can just see it.

Enjoy!

She hadn't meant to sleep that long. It was dinner time when she woke back up. Her stomach growled, making her frown. That was why she didn't like sleeping. It made her hungry. Things she wasn't supposed to feel. Her soulmates words on her arm were gone, leaving just a smudged version of hers. She got up, heading to the bathroom to do her business and wash the writing off her arm before heading downstairs to the kitchen. Tony had told her there was plenty of food to help herself to if she felt like it. Again, she wasn't used to having so many free choices. So many options.

Natasha was in the kitchen, making tea when Anna got down there. Anna froze in the entryway, eyeing the Russian assassin warily as she steeped a tea bag in her cup.

"You're Stark's new lab assistant." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah." Anna said, not moving from the doorway.

"You can call me Natasha. One of the few sources of estrogen in this tower." She smiled a little, taking a sip of her tea. "If you ever want to talk, or if you need anything, JARVIS knows where to find me."

She slipped past a frozen Anna, making her way to the elevator. She smirked a little at Anna, who had turned slightly to watch her, as the doors shut. Anna stood there frozen for a moment longer. She had just met the Black Widow. The woman responsible for revealing both HYDRA and SHIELD to the public. She didn't realize her hands were shaking until she opened the fridge. It was packed full of food, but she couldn't find anything that sounded good. It was all so overwhelming, being able to make her own decisions. Having so many options.

"It's hard, isn't it?" She nearly jumped out of her skin, slamming the fridge door closed like she had been caught stealing. "Having so many options to choose for yourself." Bucky stood there, staring at her with a knowing look. He looked a little hesitant, but none less lethal than she remembered. "Steve's going to make lasagne. You can have some...if you want."

He moved past her, digging through the cupboards.

"How did you do it?" She asked, and he froze momentarily. "Get used to...to all of this. Having freedom to choose, to be who you want."

He stared at the counter for a long time, his back turned to her. He could still see her out of the corner of his eye, standing just inside his peripheral vision.

"It took some time. Steve helped a lot. He had to make a lot of decisions for me, at first. He talked me through a lot. Told me it was okay." He shook his head, a ghost of a smile lifting his lips. "I still have my moments, but it's easier now." He turned back to face her.

She was standing there, watching him, her right hand holding her left elbow, slouching in on herself. She didn't look dangerous right then, more like a scared little girl. But he knew how dangerous she was. She could bring this tower down around them if she had enough time.

"I guess I need to find myself a Steve, huh." A small smile formed on her face, but it didn't reach her eyes. He felt a pang of something inside him. Something he couldn't understand.

"Sam is nice. He knows a lot, helps me with my PTSD."

"I think I met him this morning."

She watched him reach up for a couple glasses, taking a step back as he opened the fridge, grabbing a jug of milk. He handed one out to her, and she couldn't say no. His posture said that much.

She took the glass, making sure not to touch him. She didn't need an incident here. Not now. She took a hesitant sip of the milk as he watched her like a hawk. She stared at the milk for a moment before taking a bigger drink, nearly chugging the whole glass. Bucky chuckled lightly as he watched her. He grabbed the jug, refilling the glass for her when she finished.

"How old are you, kid?" He asked as he put the milk away.

"T-twenty-six." She hoped he didn't hear her hesitation, which he did, but he didn't mention it.

"You don't look that old." He said, eyeing her.

"Good genes, I guess." She shrugged.

"You know, you can sit down."

Anna was glad she had set the milk glass down as she spun around, fist clenched. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she stared at Steve, probably looking like a frightened puppy.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Steve said from his spot in the kitchen entryway.

"'S okay." She murmured, moving out of the way as he walked to the fridge.

"When was the last time you ate?" Bucky asked her, moving closer as Steve started on the lasagna. Steve paused, glancing up at her.

She looked down at her hands from where she sat across from them. "The last time I slept." She said quietly, but their enhanced hearing caught every word.

"And when was that?" Steve asked, his unease slipping a little as she bit her lip, refusing to look at them.

"I-I don' remember."

Steve nearly bent the spoon in his hand he was gripping it so tightly. Bucky's arm whirred as his fist clenched a little. When Steve had found him, it was the first time in 70 years he'd had solid food. It had taken some convincing, but he'd managed to get it down, only to puke it back up. They started with bland food instead, something light to get him readjusted to eating regularly again.

"HYDRA removed that need a long time ago." She whispered, seeming to curl further in on herself.

1964

She was starving. She hadn't eaten in days. They had refused to feed her, no matter how much she begged. She felt weak, and her head hurt. More pain, but she was getting used to it. She limply rose to her feet, stumbling as the guard came in.

"Stand straight." He barked at her hunched over form.

"I can't." She gasped, holding her stomach. "Please, I'm so hungry!"

The guard pulled out his stun baton, hitting her in the stomach with it. She cried out, falling to the floor, writhing in pain. Her powers started to flare, causing the collar to shock her again, her screams echoing around the cell.

"Let that teach you to beg for food like a worthless dog." The guard spat, leaving her there to suffer as her body shook from the electrocution.

She cried, hot tears falling down her face. They'd torture her more if they saw her crying. Punish her for showing emotions. HYDRA assets didn't have emotions. They didn't feel. They were cold blooded killers who followed orders. That was her future. That's who they were turning her into. Taking away her identity, replacing it with their own. Turning her into the perfect soldier.

Present

Maybe eating hadn't been such a good idea after all. Bucky had that feeling, but she had surely been given some form of solid food with HYDRA, some kind of nutritional substitute to keep her strong. But he had been wrong. So very wrong.

She stared down at the lasagna like it was going to eat her. Steve had given her a small piece to start, not quite sure what would happen when she did eat. But it wasn't eating that was her problem.

Bucky had spotted her panic before Steve. He could almost hear her pounding heart as she shook in her seat, her breathing coming in short, light gasps. She was trying to hide it from them. She stumbled out of her chair like she'd been shocked, falling to her knees, gripping at her hair. Both super soldiers were on their feet, Bucky moving around the table towards her.

He knelt down beside her, placing a hand on her back. She was trembling, almost spasming, like she was being electrocuted.

"JARVIS?" Steve asked, watching the two on the floor.

'It appears Miss Hanover is having a panic attack.' JARVIS said.

Bucky settled himself behind Anna, wrapping his metal arm around her, pulling her back against his chest. He breathed evenly, trying to coax her to copy him. Trying to calm her down. She shook in his arms, her hands wrapped around his metal arm. He could feel the pressure of her hands on him, and her warmth. She was burning up.

Something happened then. Bucky wasn't quite sure what it was, and when he asked her about it later, she wouldn't touch the question with a ten foot pole, dodging around it as much as possible. Her hands tightened around his arm for a moment, then what felt like a hot spark travelled through it. It was like a twinge, a pinch, travelling up the sensors and into his brain. It hurt, but he didn't show it. It was like he'd touched a live wire, the pain burning up his sensors, hitting him at his shoulder, and up into his brain. He turned slightly, looking back at Steve as Anna relaxed a little in his arms, her breathing still ragged, but she'd stopped shaking. He continued to try and comfort he as best he could while the spark of pain burned heavily in his mind. What the hell was it? And where had it come from?