-Two months after Y/n and Bucky are taken into Hydra custody. Y/n and Barnes have taken out 19 people under Hydra's orders.-

I had received my new orders from the boss and headed to my "room" silently. A man with longer brown hair followed me, and entered his next to me. The concrete floor had a few cracks along it, and the metal bars for walls were beginning to rust near the bottom. Tomorrow morning, early, we would go to New York City and take out a group of people who go by the name "Avengers." Boss had given me extra instructions to make sure that the long haired man came back. If he didn't, I would have hours f consequences. I laid down on my canvas cot, and put my head down on the lumpy pillow. I was not given a blanket. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

Quiet whispers woke me, but my eyes remained closed as I slowly tensed my muscles for action. My bad grew warm and fuzzy, vibrating lightly with energy, ready to blast someone who wasn't with Hydra. The light whispers continued and eventually I opened one eye lightly. The man in the cell next to me, with the chin length brown hair and metal arm had his hands wrapped around the bars separating us.

"Y/n" he whispered, so quietly, that if the I hadn't gotten any injections in the last two months, I wouldn't have heard him at all.

"I don't know who that is." I whispered flatly, before turning my back and closing my eyes. I probably had a few more hours of sleep before the mission, I wasn't wasting it on some random soldier.

-Bucky's POV-

It broke my heart when she said that she didn't know who Y/n was. Shattered it into pieces. This was my fault. Mine, and Steve's, and Wanda's, the whole team's. We did this to her. She no longer had an independent thought. She was a mindless and emotionless husk for Hydra to beat and use at their will. The first night we were here I swore to myself that I would get her out of here if I died trying, and I was going to do that tomorrow. We were supposed to kill the team, and I would be able to disobey, but Hydra had injected her with new serums since we arrived, and I had no idea what she could do now. Even if she wasn't a thoughtless zombie, I wouldn't blame her if she killed the team because of everything we did to her.

Hours later were in row 3, seats a and b, flying economy to New York. Y/n stared straight ahead of her, no earbuds, nothing like she used to need when she flew, but I noticed when the plane was taking off that her hands gripped the arms of the seat hard enough that her knuckles turned white. By the time we were in the air and floating, her lips were dry and the whites of her eyes had gone slightly bloodshot. She hated flying. The last time she flew on a real plane and not helicopter or sedated, it was with me, on the way to t her base. I had taken the tranquilizers and pocketed them, just because I knew that she would freak out without them. Then I beat her up.

I treated this girl like shit, and now she was going to be killed by the same people she got captured for. The same people she had taken a bullet for. I couldn't look at her anymore. Her eyes used to freak me out, with how dull they were, but at least there was a person behind them. Now? Now there was a hollow skull that used to be filled with memories. I remembered what it was like, being wiped often enough to keep me under their control. I remembered how out of control I felt. Like I had been picked up by a tornado and thrown at some people, and being forced to be okay with it. I felt hopeless. My heart sunk in my chest as I pictured how she was feeling. Maybe it was better for her? No more mental health issues, no more bad memories, no more emotions regarding Pietro and Wanda. Maybe it was better for her.

-Y/n's POV-

We touched down and made our way through the airport swiftly, keeping our heads down. No point in being obnoxious, I'm sure the mission will cause quite a scene. I had read about this group, the "Avengers." There was one super soldier, Steve Rogers, a Red Room spy, Natasha Romanoff, a smart guy with a suit, Tony Stark, and quite a few others. The name Wanda Maximoff stood out to me when I read about her. She was a twin, the other one was Pietro Maximoff, but he died more that a year ago. Good. One that's already taken care of. Less for me to worry about. My tall partner and I waited for a taxi, and directed the driver to the Avenger's compound once he arrived.

After about 40 minutes of driving, the driver stopped and told us we had arrived. Without a word, I reached around the headrest and placed my palm on the side of his head, sending a small shockwave through his brain, with enough force to take down a tree, just concentrated. My talk partner opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it when I got out of the car without acknowledging him. I walked across the street without bothering to look for cars, and entered through the main doors. I pressed a palm to the ground, frying the electronics. No alerts, so signal, no calls, nada. Get Fucked, Stark.

I headed for the door labelled "stairwell" and began trucking up the flights of stairs. We slowly moved up each flight until we reached the one with the label matching the one in the package my boss had given me to memorize about the mission. I looked through the small peephole at the top and saw nothing. No lights, thanks to me shutting the power, but my new "upgrades" allowed me to see a bit better through the dark.

I saw two men standing in a kitchen, one much taller than the other, yelling at each other. I quietly opened the door and stepped into the room, followed my partner. I began to run forward to fight but felt a cold hand on my bicep, ripping me backwards. Absolute fucking chaos was about to ensue.