Chapter Text
TW: Needles, fire.
Dark. The cell they kept her in was always dark. Unlit, dirty, scorched, small. Dark. If they ever let her out of that cell, it would be down a maze of bright, cold halls into an overlit room where they would prick and prod at her until she would snap.
However, she never snapped, and it left the scientists clueless. She was supposed to be a powerful asset. Their powerful asset. Yet, she wouldn't give them anything to work with except the occasional scream or a rare flicker of anger amidst her void of a mind.
Everything was dark.
Dark, bright, prod, burn, repeat. Day in, day out.
Until the faint blaring of an alarm broke the rhythm she was so used to. This wasn't the first time it had happened. All she could do was stay curled up in her corner until someone came in and took her to their next base.
Deep down, though, she knew she had blown her chances. She wasn't the asset they had wanted her to be. She'd become a failure. She wasn't worth it. They'd let her burn along with this building, so that there was not a single trace of her existence left behind.
She snapped her eyes open when the door to her cramped cell clicked open and a red smoke began to leak into her room and the piercing alarms became so much louder.
She could run. She could restart her life. If there was anything outside of this cell, anyway. So, she got up and stood on her shaky legs, leaning against the wall for support as her drive to survive urged her out of her room and into the red-tinted hallway.
She squinted her eyes against the flashing lights, never having gotten used to the painful feeling of unnaturally bright lights burning her retinas. The smoke had made its way into her lungs as she stumbled aimlessly down the corridor to find an exit, coughing. Scrambling to get out of this ever-increasingly hot building and to not die.
It's as she turns another corner that she sees the deep orange flames that line the walls. She's unable to hear their crackle over the piercing alarms and the pounding in her ear. They were climbing towards her, eating everything in their way and flinging their painfully thick smoke at her.
Even though she had seen fire so often, even though she'd felt the flames at her skin a thousand times over, even though she was supposed to be their master, she found herself frozen before them.
Frozen before fire.
Her throat tightened and she fought back a cough, the heavy smoke competing with the oxygen. It made her eyes sting, and all she wanted to do was close them.
But she couldn't. She was completely entranced by the flames.
She barely heard the call of a person over the alarm, but she saw the silhouettes of two men at the end of the hall. One of them waved at her, yelled something. When they found that she wasn’t responding, the other man moved towards the fire, but the first held him back.
“Steve, don’t even think about it,” The first said, and she could barely make out his words. His concern didn’t seem to be mutual as the second man, Steve, ripped himself away from the man and tore through the fire. He ran faster than she’d ever seen anyone run before, and then he stood in front of her.
“Come on, kid. Let’s get you out of here,” he said as he grabbed her arm firmly and urged her towards the flames. She didn’t budge. She knew it was her only way out, but she just couldn’t.
He waved a hand in front of her face, “Are you alright?” When she didn’t answer, he hooked an arm under her knees and an arm under her arms and lifted her up, holding her close. As he moved back through the hall towards where the first man was, through the fire, she moved her face to press against his armour, squeezing her eyes shut.
The rest was a blur for her. One moment, Steve was carrying her out of the burning building, and the next, she was sitting on a medical bed, in a sterile blue room with bright lights.
A man named Bruce was crouched before her, flicking an even brighter light into her pupils, looking intently. He shone the light away from her, “How many fingers am I holding up? No- I don’t have six fingers.”
She just stared at him, keeping her scarred and burned hands clutched to her chest. He and several other people in scrubs had asked to see them, but she had refused each time, adamant that they were fine. If she could, she’d deny them everything and run out of this building too and never turn back, but she was stuck here. She was too tired to run, anyway.
Bruce sighed and got to his feet, moving towards the counter behind him. “I’m going to take a blood sample to see if I can find out what kind of chemicals HYDRA has put in you.”
“Shouldn’t you treat her burns?” Steve was standing a metre or two to the side, and she turned her head to look at him. She hated it when she couldn’t see everyone. It made her feel vulnerable.
“She’s not letting us, Steve. Trust me, I want to treat them too, but she won’t let me, and I don’t want to force her to do anything that isn’t necessary. HYDRA’s done more than enough of that to her.”
Steve sighed beside her, “She’s unable to speak in full sentences, she probably doesn’t even know what’s best for her.”
“All I’m saying is that I’m not going to anything, but be my guest. This might pinch a little.”
Before she could protest, Bruce had already inserted a needle into the crook of her elbow, drawing a couple small batches of blood. She inhaled sharply, frozen where she sat, eyes wide and fixed on the needle.
Suddenly, she was no longer in that med bay, but she was strapped into the cold, metal chair, a man in a lab coat inserting a needle into her arm. The liquid was painfully hot as it ran down her veins, into her heart, and then spread all over her whole body, burning her alive.
Yet, every time, she survived. She recovered.
Her throat tightened. Dark, bright, prod, burn, repeat.
She didn’t realise that she was mumbling those words under her breath until Steve waved a hand before her face. “Kid? Snap out of it,” Steve lay a gentle hand on her shoulder, now standing in front of her. Her eyes were still focussed on the spot where Bruce had inserted the needle, where a cotton bud was now taped to her arm.
Dark, bright, prod, burn, repeat.
“Kid!” Steve gently shook her, and she snapped her head up. Both men were looking at her, concern swirling in their eyes.
She forced a breath of air into her lungs, and tears pricked at her eyes.
“You’re safe here. You’re safe,” Steve soothed, rubbing her shoulder and taking a seat beside her. It didn’t take long before she broke and was left sobbing, hot tears running down her face.
Steve didn’t have to know what caused this. He pulled her into his embrace, rubbing soothing circles between her shoulder blades. “You’re safe. I won’t let them get to you ever again.”
And she was willing to believe him. For the first time in years, she allowed herself to hope again.