“Secure her!” a man roared, the command slicing through the sterile air. Two hulking figures seized Y/n’s arms, wrenching her into a chair designed for restraint. They bound her wrists and ankles with brutal efficiency. She thrashed against the straps, a desperate struggle against the inevitable. A woman in a crisp lab coat approached, syringe poised. She plunged the needle deep into Y/n’s skin, injecting a viscous liquid that burned like ice. Y/n writhed, her body convulsing as the drug took hold.
The woman nodded to the man who had given the order. He smirked, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. He turned to a technician, who carefully lowered a metallic helmet onto Y/n’s head. The technician nodded to one of the men who had restrained her.
Then, the pain began. It wasn’t a simple burn, but a searing, electric fire that coursed through every nerve ending. Y/n screamed, a raw, guttural sound ripped from her throat.
“Bucky! Steve!” she choked out, the names fragments of hope clinging to her consciousness. But hope was a delusion. Bucky and Steve wouldn’t come. They had abandoned her.
The man watched her suffer, his expression rapturous. He savored her pain, the desperation in her eyes, the futile cries for help. He knew no one would come. She was utterly alone. Weeks bled into months, each day a repetition of torture, each scream swallowed by the cold, indifferent walls. She was subjected to electric shocks, taunted with harsh Russian commands, and endlessly forced to struggle against her bonds.
“Ты готова подчиниться, солдат?” he sneered. (“Are you ready to comply, soldier?”)
Y/n stared at him, her eyes hollow, her spirit broken.
“Я готова выполнить,” she rasped, the words devoid of emotion. (“I am ready to comply.”)
Back at the Avengers facility, Steve, Bucky, Tony, and Peter returned from a mission. Bucky carefully placed Y/n onto a lab table, her body limp and unresponsive. Bruce Banner entered, his gaze falling upon the frozen figure.
“Um, who is that?” Bruce asked, his voice laced with concern.
“Bucky’s sister,” Steve replied, his tone clipped. Bruce looked at Steve, then at Bucky, then back at the girl on the table.
“How old is she?” Bruce questioned.
“Sixteen,” Steve answered, his gaze fixed on his polished boots.
“Well, we need to get her warmed up.” Bruce moved to a cabinet and retrieved blankets, layering them over Y/n’s body. He then approached a console and initiated a heating sequence in the table.
“Tony, I need a word,” Bruce said, turning to Tony Stark. Tony nodded and approached Bruce, initiating a low discussion. Steve turned to Bucky, who was staring at Y/n’s frozen form.
“Hey Buck, how are you holding up?” Steve whispered, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.
“I thought I lost her, Steve. I thought I’d never see her again. And now… now that she’s here, I wish…” Bucky’s voice cracked, his eyes glazing over with tears. “I wish she wasn’t like this. How did HYDRA even get her, Steve?” He looked at his best friend, desperate for an answer.
“We’ll find out. We will find out how HYDRA got her, why they have her, and what they did to her.” Steve reassured, his voice firm. Bucky nodded, but the pain in his eyes remained.
“Heartbeat detected,” FRIDAY’s voice announced, startling both Steve and Bucky.
“Heartbeat failing,” FRIDAY reported again. Steve’s brow furrowed with concern. Tony and Bruce rushed to Y/n’s side, screens flickering to life, data streams cascading across their displays.
“No, no, no, no—” Bucky muttered under his breath, his voice laced with panic. “NO! DO SOMETHING!” He yelled, tears streaming down his face. He’d found her, only to watch her slip away again.
“Get him out of here!” Tony barked. Steve grabbed Bucky’s arm, pulling him away from the lab. Peter, who had been standing silently in the corner, followed.
“Steve, I can’t lose her again, not again,” Bucky whispered, his voice raw with anguish.
“Don’t worry, Buck. She’ll be fine. If anyone can help her, it’s those two.”
Bucky and Steve sat in the living room. Steve scrolled through memes on his phone—a desperate attempt to catch up on seventy years of pop culture. Bucky, however, had his head buried in his hands. Peter had left for school, promising to meet up with Ned later.
“Hey, you can come back into the lab now,” Bruce called out. Bucky leaped to his feet and practically sprinted to the lab, Steve close behind. Bruce trailed behind, sighing.
“How is she?” Bucky demanded as soon as he entered the lab, his voice tight with anxiety.
“She’s stable. You can take her back to your room. She needs rest, which is odd considering she’s been in stasis for seventy years.” Tony chuckled, a sardonic edge to his voice. Bucky glared at Tony for his callous humor. He picked up Y/n, cradling her gently, and returned to his room, Steve following close behind.
“Is she going to be fine?” Steve asked Tony once Bucky left.
“That’s the thing, Steve. She’s in perfect health, which is great. But her health… it’s *too* perfect.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, Capiscle. Look at her. She’s in perfect shape. Her body shouldn’t be like this. Women from the 40s didn’t have health like this. Also, look at these colorful dot things in her DNA. Those aren’t supposed to be there either.” Tony pointed to the screen displaying Y/n’s medical data.
“What are you trying to say?” Steve asked, crossing his arms.
“What I’m trying to say is HYDRA did some crazy stuff to her, I'm not sure what they did or how it changed her, but Bruce and I will find out."
“Thank you, Tony.”