Chapter 1

"Come on, Nadia!" Dad – Rogers grinned at her after having deflected a kick aimed for his chest, "I know you can do better than that!" Training was a simple spar today, her father not having as much time to go over strategizing as last week. At least no one ever watched her in person now. She dodged a blow towards her head, shooting in and sending an elbow to the inside of his knee. Now that he knew she could hold her own it wasn't often that he'd hold much back. A good excuse to do the same thing.

A row of sallow faces, watching, waiting. Clipboards at the ready. Weasel stiff as a board off to the side and behind them. Thrive or die.

As he went down, she clamped a hand around his neck, went under his arm on the other side and got to his back. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and arms in a seat belt style across his chest. Oh, if she had a knife right now.

The Soldier holding a gun to her head, eyes as blank as ever. The taste of blood in her mouth. Oranges. That row of faces ready to end her for the smallest detail.

Thrive or die.

Her legs squeezed him right below the ribs, hard enough to hear the air being partially constricted, while her upper arm snaked around his neck. Before her hand could make it to her own neck for the finish of the choke, his hand clamped onto her arm prying it away. For any human without enhancements, this wouldn't have been an issue. However, this was exactly where she'd gotten her own strength from and while her strength easily rivaled his, there was still enough resistance to keep her from sinking the choke in.

Metal fingers squelching into her arm. No pain. Moving her arm further in. Almost there. Bones greeting metal. Finally, pain. One more adjustment.

A searing buzz cut through her ears, causing only a second of hesitation. His arm went down. She could kill him. So easily. She wanted to. Warm blood coating her hands, steam coming up in the piercing cold. The scent of the newly dead.

Buzzer. It meant stop. Nadia let go, scrambling away from the man. The last time she hadn't stopped at the sound or when the partner said they were done, sparring had been revoked for weeks. Weeks.

Sickly sweet oranges clawing through the room, eating away at the tangy scent of blood. Scrubbing. Scrubbing. Bodies being dragged away. All her doing.

A crack shot across the surface of her skin. How many was that now? The amount that seemed to run along her body changed. One moment there were hundreds of them, spider-webbing out, seeping with blood and after a blink they were gone.

"You want to take a break?" He smelled of sweat and blood. Blood?

"Did I hurt you?" Nadia looked him over carefully, he had a bruise forming slightly around his neck but no source of blood. If she hurt him then sparring may be revoked again. That was definitely the entire reason she was worried. Nothing else. Damned irrational emotions. "I smell blood."

There, some on his shirt. A darker smear against the dark blue of his rash guard near the shoulder. No. Some was higher. A cut on his chin. How had she done that? Was time lost again? Had she been that violent when going for the choke?

Failure! Failure will not be tolerated.

Why was it so hard now to keep the tremble from her hands? So hard to make it seem like she was in fact getting enough air? Why couldn't she make light of it and apologize like it was nothing? These were the emotions she should pretend to have. Not genuinely experience!

Rogers looked himself over before putting his hand to his chin, he cracked a grin, "Just a scratch."

What kind of smile was that? What was he going to do? After everything, was she going to be locked up over a scratch? If there was one thing the Avengers had the advantage of over Hydra was the threat of her future. Hydra wouldn't have wasted the valuable space of her presence in a cell. Death was a bad enough threat. But the Avengers? A high security cell with no one and nothing around. Rotting in there. With the enhancements she had it would take forever to die.

At her silence, he took a better look at her, his face morphing something softer. A trap. It was a trap. "Hey, I'm alright. It's just a scratch." The low soothing voice, like she was an animal to calm. Cracks skittered further across her skin.

She was supposed to calm now. Show him she had feelings, fear, and most importantly, control. But it wasn't coming. No calm. No control. They knew what drugs would sedate her. She could wake up in a cell and never see the sky again.

Tentacles wrapping lazily around her legs.

"Nadia?" His voice was still too soft, but his eyes were intent on her. Alert. Ready to react to whatever move she made. He was fully aware she could kill him.

The tentacles sliding around her waist, squeezing without mercy. No escape.

His hand went slowly towards her, ready to retract at a moments notice. Just another handler, ready to end her at a moments notice. Ready to use her however he pleased.

There was no escape. Never.

Handler, Hydra, Doctor Grante. Parents, Shield, Avengers. What was the difference? Nothing. Nothing at all.

His hand was on her shoulder, pulling Nadia out of it. Whatever it was. She shook him off, looking him in the face at attention, "I'm sorry, sir." Shaking. She was fucking shaking! What was wrong with her? "I won't let it happen again."

"Think rationally for a quick sec, kid." A woman's voice, the Fox. She was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, and no hint of humor in her eyes. Her voice was hard, matter of fact, "You scratched him in a fight. A spar. I'm honestly surprised both of you aren't worse for wear. You're not in trouble for a something that'll heal in an hour."

Was it worth telling them she was having hallucinations? Or would it only be another mark against the record. There were only two years to get this dealt with. What once felt like forever away now was far too close.

But they wouldn't let her get away by simply walking away without saying anything. Even if she did calm down now.

Breathe. Breathe. She had to breathe. Why? She could go 25 minutes without trouble.

"Relax, Nadia." The man this time.

"How?" The one word barely squeaked out but the weight of it made her sink to the floor. Weak. She was weak and she was going to die. All because of a fucking drug. Would there ever be an escape?

"Breathe, Nadia." The man, he was close. Not touching. Sitting across from her. "Deep breath in, hold it, then let it go. Focus on something to ground yourself whether you have to close your eyes and think of something or even just an object."

Breathe. That sounded easy enough. A deep breathe in. Out. In. Out. Slowly. Focus. Escape. Play the game.

The clawing feeling at her throat eased and everything relaxed. Everything was better. Much better. Another breath and she stood, leaving her father on the floor. "I'm guessing you won't let me train the rest of the day?" Just like that, it was as if nothing happened.

Her mother, now directly behind Rogers who was scrambling up from the floor, gave a small smile, "Bingo. Your dad over here has a meeting to get to with the fancy tin man."

A nod, "So back home?" She started towards the door, shoulders slumped some.

"I mean, after drinks, of course." Mom slung her arm over her shoulder, a different type of smile Nadia didn't know how to identify on her face this time, "Can't just not celebrate you not killing your dad."

Nadia couldn't help but crack a small smile in return, "I guess not."

If she only knew.

A/N ~ Hello, everyone! It's been awhile since I've posted anything but I've been plucking away at the sequel to Project Red Rabbit and continuing my other story, He was But a Child. However, I have a full time job as well as some pretty time consuming hobbies currently. I have a good chunk of this written but there's definitely a large portion of this story still left to write. :) Hopefully, you all will enjoy watching Nadia's journey from here. (If you're reading this from Project Red Rabbit, the rest of this story will be written separately from this document.)