Chapter Text
11 YEARS BEFORE…
She still remembers the smell of the nursery. It was musty, and smelled of vanilla candles. The employees were nice, but had the fake smile like a Barbie doll you probably destroyed from playing too rough. The other kids were larger, some laughing, some crying under the beds against the walls. The walls don't get her started. It was a faded mural of children playing under a shining sun and rainbows on every wall. It was horrible.
“Vivian?” This was the last time she heard her name. The last time she was treated like a person. An older lady said the name, her voice smooth as honey and just as sweet. But something just told her that something was wrong. The elderly woman, around a grandmother’s age, scooped her little body, pressing her head to her chest to hide her sight. She started to walk somewhere, somewhere to the point where the sounds of the other children faded to something of white noise.
“She’s perfect. Won’t have any memories of here like the other children.” The woman explained, as if she was talking to someone else. She heard heavy footsteps pad up to her, feeling her hair, her shoulders and back. She flinched, and a low chuckle filled her ears.
“We’ll take her,” It was a man that responded after a few heartbeats. He said something in what sounded like harsh tongues. Not even seconds later, she was being tugged by the arm, her sleeve being pulled back and having something sharp press against her soft skin. She screamed, tears streaming down her face. She was shushed, a calloused hand covering her mouth. She tried to bite it, but her small body felt weak.
She slipped out of the Daycare Owners’ arms, now being on the man’s broad shoulder, looking at a wall. She couldn’t hear the conversation perfectly, but they were talking about her. Birthdate, blood type, allergies, age. The only thing she remembered before being knocked out?
“She’s three.”
The room she woke up in was something only from nightmares. She laid in a pale grey room. Not white, but not grey. It drove her insane to put a name to the color. She walked around, trying to find a window, a door, anything to let her know she wasn’t in a dream. There was a black glass window, she could see her reflection, just nothing else. No trees or city in sight. She shivered at the cold, then looked down. She was in a hospital gown. She gasped softly, backing to a wall, her body shaking like a tree as she tried not to cry.
Dr. Peter Wolf was a brilliant scientist back in the day. Key word, was . Now, all he does is go to his lab to drink and groan about how his experiment was perfect. How it would change how they fought back in World War two. That this experiment would’ve been better than the Winter Soldier experiment. But his experiment never got approved. Until today. The Winter Soldier has betrayed H.Y.D.R.A., now siding with the Avengers, so now they need a new weapon. Now they’re allowing him to do his experiment. He rolled his wheeled chair to the experiment room, looking through the one sided window to look at the subject.
“It’s supposed to be a boy.” he hissed, looking at the woman holding the file to her chest.
“Yes sir, but young girls have been found to be able to carry your retrovirus better.” She answered, making him huff.
“Whatever, tell me which one we’re doing for her.” He spat, making her look at the file.
After a few impatient beats of silence, the woman spoke up to the elderly man. “She’s supposed to be tested with the Vixen virus. She’ll get the speed and agility.” She answered again, and Dr. Wolf seemed to grin. Ah, Vixen. His top experiment, probably the best killing machine.
“Get her surgery started. I want her to be exposed to zooavirus. Now.”