The Mimic

73

"Good morning, princess! You were out for a while, how're you feeling?"

Y/n had been awake for hours, finally coming down from whatever was in that gas. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the metal chair that she was sat on, leaving an irritated redness from where she'd tried to escape. The power-dampening collar was wrapped tightly around her neck, and y/n was sure that if the collar was even an inch tighter she wouldn't be able to breathe. Her body ached from being sat upright for so long - it brought back bitter memories of having to sleep on the ground during her time in Hydra. Y/n had no clue where she was, the deserted warehouse barely let in any sunlight, so the only source of light she had was one that hung over her head, creating a yellow, artificial hue around her. It was a sickly yellow, one that made everything it touched look out of place. Y/n scowled at the sound of the stranger's voice, keeping her eyes fixed on the concrete floor. She didn't respond, focusing all of her energy on trying to put up a strong front. The stranger preyed on her vulnerabilities, she couldn't display more of it.

The stranger frowned when y/n didn't respond. He strolled toward her in a casual manner, pulling his gloves on. The gloves were dark, made out of some sort of leather. Whilst the stranger valued his appearance, there were many reasons why he wore them when near y/n. The first one being to make sure he didn't leave any DNA on her. The second reason was to make sure that if y/n somehow broke out of the collar, it'd be harder for her to burn him. And, the third and final reason was that they were the gloves that the man in the suit wore when he abducted y/n. He gave the gloves to y/n for her to wear when they were escaping the apartment. She knew the feeling of those gloves far too well, and the stranger knew that. The man stopped in front of y/n, suddenly grabbing her chin with his gloved hand, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "A conversation involves two people speaking, you know. So tell me, how're you feeling?" He cooed, a fond smile still on his face.

Y/n's breath hitched as her chin was grabbed, glaring up at the stranger with angry eyes. She recognised the gloves straight away, the texture of them causing tears to prick her eyes. Who was this man and why did he know so much about her? Y/n quickly blinked the tears away, pushing back the memories that resurfaced of that horrible night. She had to put up a strong front, she couldn't let him see that he was getting to her - despite the tear stains still being obvious on her cheeks. Y/n took in a few shaky breaths, studying the man's smug face. "Fuck you." She snapped, spitting a nice glob of saliva right in the man's face.

The stranger quickly let go when y/n spat in his face, taking a few steps back. He chuckled slightly in frustration, wiping the saliva off of his cheek. "Okay, okay. We're playing it that way, are we?" He hummed, looking up at the smug smile on her face. The man grabbed a chair, sitting down opposite y/n, a few feet away from her. He sighed quietly, resting his elbows on his knees as he kept his eyes fixed on y/n. "I have always been fascinated by Hydra's work. I've spent my years researching and collecting different pieces of memorabilia. But you? Your case has been the most interesting of them all. Buried under layers and layers of security that I've had to work through." The stranger hummed with a smile, clasping his hands together. "I've been looking for you for months, princess. What you did for Hydra was ground-breaking. A perfect soldier, raised by her handler to ensure loyalty. You are amazing. You eliminated hundreds of threats like it was nothing, and I'm asking for you to do it again." The stranger smiled, moving to pull the journal back out of his coat pocket.

Y/n listened to the man, anger and guilt beginning to build as she was reminded of her past. He was just like them. He was just like Hydra. He praised her for murdering innocent people. Y/n's life wasn't memorabilia to be collected, every single piece displayed a life of indescribable pain and torture. Something that this man would never understand. Y/n quickly lifted her head when she was asked to do it again, her face falling at the sight of the journal. Her once angry eyes were full of terror, the tightness in her chest coming back. "No, no. You can't do that." Y/n rushed out, glancing around in attempt to find a way to escape. "You can't. I'm not doing it again. I said no." Y/n said seriously, pure fear in her voice. 

"Oh, I wasn't really asking for your permission, princess." The stranger cooed, smiling at the fear in her eyes. He opened the journal, sifting through a few pages until he found the correct one. "Apologies for this, you are simply a stepping stone in my plan." The man hummed, standing up from the chair. "Oh, and apologies for my accent." He chuckled, clearing his throat as he started to walk in circles around y/n, making sure he was far enough away that y/n couldn't spit or hurt him from where she was sat. That was when the code words begun, speaking in perfect Russian.

"Longing."

"Stop!" Y/n yelled, scrunching her eyes shut. She didn't want to go back under. She'd finally gotten her life back, and now this man was dragging her back to square one.

"Rusted."

Y/n begun to squirm in her seat, trying her hardest to break out of the ties that bound her to the chair. She outstretched her hands in attempt to use her powers, but of course the collar prevented them completely. She had to get out, she had to.

"Seventeen."

Y/n could feel her heart beating in her chest as she continued to squirm. She pushed as hard as possible against the cable ties, but they just seemed to cut into the skin on her wrists and ankles.  

"Daybreak."

"Shut up!" Y/n screamed, trying to drown out the stranger's voice. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" She yelled, but he just seemed to be getting louder.

"Furnace."

Y/n thrashed against the chair, desperately trying to escape. She continued to yell in attempt to drown him out, using all of her strength. But without her powers, there was nothing she could do.

"Nine."

Tears begun to fill y/n's eyes as she continued to desperately thrash. She thought back to all the good times she'd had with the team. She could've been in Bucky's arms by now, still in bed. But she wasn't. She was stupid and naive, and fell for a stranger's simple trick.

"Benign."

Y/n screamed out angrily as tears fell down her cheeks. She could feel the memories begin to drift from her head as the words seeped in. Y/n desperately tried her hardest to remember everything, she had to remember the team, she had to. "Bucky, Steve, Wanda, Nat, Vision, Tony, Peter, Sam, Clint, Thor, Loki, Scott-" Y/n shouted out, repeating their names over an over in attempt to stop herself from forgetting.

"Homecoming."

Y/n continued to shout out their names, but with every moment she seemed to miss out a name or mess up. "Bucky, Steve, Wanda, Nat- Come on." Y/n whispered, getting quieter and quieter as she realised she was forgetting. "Bucky, Steve, Wanda-" She murmured, scrunching her eyes up as she tried to focus. "Bucky, Steve-" Y/n begun to shake, tapping her foot as if it'd help her remember. "Bucky-" Y/n was trying her hardest to hang on. Come on, she could remember. But the names had disappeared like someone blowing dust off of an old book.  

"One."

Y/n's head hung low, hot tears streaming down her face. She'd given up on trying to escape. She couldn't remember anything. The words sunk in more and more, she was losing control of herself. Losing any sort of free will by just a few simple words. "Stop it..." She whispered brokenly.

"Freight Car."

By the time the last word was uttered, y/n had fallen into silence. The stranger looked at her in disbelief, surprised that the words had worked so well. He knew they would, but it was surprising to see it actually happen. The man slowly set the journal down on his chair, taking a few careful steps toward y/n. He reached out, carefully lifting y/n's chin to meet a pair of empty eyes. "Soldier...?" 

"Ready to comply."