Chapter Three

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Flashes of people. White masks. White hospital gowns.

Blood. There was blood too. Some of it mine, but some of it was different shades. Darker. Like it was old and dried.

The searing, immense pain was next. Starting in my left shoulder, then going into my head.

The doctors were mad. I thought the Avengers saved me. I thought they took me away from that prison I had called home for the entirety of my life.

No. There was something off.

These weren't present. These were memories; nightmares. These were the images that haunted me, plagued me into restless and sleepless nights. From when they started sawing my arm, to when the dull ache in my brain went out and there was no reversing it now.

But then the memories just started over. The pain started over. The hate started over. God I want -need- to wake up. This is too much, I can't do this anymore, I need to be freed, someoNE PLEASE WAKE ME UP-

I woke with a scream, and couldn't breathe. There was a strange tube down my throat that caused me to panic and to cough. The heart monitors started beeping out of control, and several doctors in light blue gowns and masks rushed over to me. They all made me lay back down and the tube was taken from my throat. I coughed hard; my throat was dry as sand and it was uncomfortable. There were no liquids nearby to relieve the pain. I guess I'd get used to it; I usually do anyways after Hydra is done with me.

"What's going on in there?" someone asked. It was a strong, feminine voice, and when I looked to where it came from, fiery, short red hair was there to meet my gaze. She walked in and some blue gowns scattered, other stayed to poke and prod me with their tools. At least it was friendlier than I was used to.

"She just woke up and had a small panic, but I think we are all good now," a doctor said. Black Widow nodded and the doctor who told her stepped back, and she walked out with the rest of the crew. Black Widow surprisingly stayed and sort of awkwardly lingered.

"Hey. Are you okay? Do you need anything?" she asked gently. I made a gesture to my throat and she handed me a cup of water with a straw. At the moment, I didn't entirely care about where it had come from. Quickly, I snatched it out of her hand and slurped it down in a not-so lady-like manner.

"Merci beaucoup," I said to her as I handed back the now empty cup. She shrugged and set it down on the table next to us. Maybe that's where it came from.

"So, how are you feeling?" she asked me. I sort of shrugged, but it was awkward. It was strange for starters having someone ask me if I was okay, but to hear it from the toughest Avenger? That was very intéressant.

"Alright I guess. Just a bit freaked out when I woke up. Thank you Black Widow, for saving me,  by the way. I never got to tell you," I told her. She smirked a bit when I called her Black Widow. I wanted to be respectful and didn't know if I should call her by her superhero name or by her real name that I didn't even know. Well I did, I just didn't want to seem like a stalker. This entire situation was new to me.

"Please call me Natasha. Or Nat. Either work. But Black Widow feels a bit too formal to me. And you're welcome for saving you. It's our job," she said. God she was awesome. She would be a great role model. I mean, that is one way that I looked up to her, but I also had my programming and constant reminders about the people who wanted me to hate her. But at the same time, they told me to look off her fighting style to use as future reference.

"Natasha, where will I go?" I asked her. I knew I probably wouldn't stay in the tower. It was an invasion of privacy, but I also didn't have any mindset for living out in the world. I'd fumble and not know what to say to people. It'd be one huge nightmare for me. Someone from Hydra could find me again as well, and I'd be sent back to a new base...the torture I'd ensue for escaping would be hell...

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