Disclaimer: anything you recognize, I do not own

We are but dust and shadow. Dust is blown about. Shadows are mere illusions. Human life was temporary and thinking it was anything else was delusional. So why did time drag on for her? Why had she lived so long in body yet so shortly in mind? Why was she being so melodramatic?

She banged her head against the wall she was sitting against. It hurt, just enough to keep her awake and keep her focused on the things that mattered. Like the fact she was stick in a hot metal room that was reminiscent of a cage. Her blonde hair clung to her face with sweat; her tank top was sticking to her back in a very uncomfortable manner. The least her captors could do was install an air conditioner for her.

It all started with the mission she was given. It was simple mission by the standards she'd learned to live by. She had a strong suspicion it was just given to her to make sure she had something to do. She got antsy when she was bored. It wasn't supposed to be hard. Plant backpack bombs around the building and blow them when they was a safe distance away. But they hadn't told her that her target was holding a charity event for children. She never got information on her target; she just knew that Hydra wanted him out of the way. They hadn't told her that she would be killing dozens of children.

It was the first time she had refused to do anything. The shock that her handlers had been given at her refusal was probably the only thing that kept them from shooting her on sight when she returned, the bombs and detonator still in her backpack. Instead, they took her back to base in confusion and she'd found herself in this cell.

She was defective. She was a failure.

Her thought process had always been simple and precise before, her emotions rarely surfaced. That was how she was trained, how she was programmed. But now, she was thrilled. She didn't care that everyone thought she was useless. She had fought back. She had become her own person. Of course, now she was going to die, or worse. But she was still smug about the whole situation… and scared. Those two emotions were having a sparing match in her head, not something she was used to or fond of.

She kept her fist closed, resting it on her knee. In her fist was a small screw. She had worked her fingers bloody getting it off the door, but it was worth it. She had a weapon for when they came to get her.

She became even more alert when she heard footsteps outside the door. Her knuckles were white around the small screw, her other hand was closed into a fist as well and her fingernails were digging into her palm, drawing blood. But she stayed sitting, waiting for the door to open. They wouldn't open the door if she was anywhere near it, so she was going to have to face them head-on. It didn't matter.

Then she heard the voices.

"Can we wipe her again?" Pierce. The voice almost made her lose all her confidence. Almost. He was one of the heads of Hydra, the one responsible for everything that had happened to her.

The word 'wipe' suggested they were going to take her memories, because she had no memories that were important to them. She couldn't pinpoint any memories that were important to her either. The word 'again' was what really caught her attention. They hadn't wiped her before. She would've remembered… but no, that was the point. How many times had they taken her memories, the only thing she had that were hers?

Some small part of her hoped the answer would be 'no', for whatever reason. Even though that would mean termination. Fighting for her life, she could do. Getting her memories wiped? That was a variable she wasn't prepared for. But she never had much luck when it came to getting what she wanted.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Do her quickly, then put her in cryo. I'm done with her." He ordered. Her. Never a name. Not even a code-name. Just her. And then there was the word 'cryo'. The freezing tube that kept her looking like a teenager for who knew how long. Pierce was done with her. She'd caused too much trouble. That smug feeling came back, but not for long. She didn't intend to go quietly, but she wasn't sure if there was another choice except for to go.

As if on queue, heavy footsteps sounded. Agents coming to collect her. The metal covering on a small section on the door opened, almost falling off in the agents' hand; that was where she'd gotten the screw. Eyes peered in at her suspiciously, with more than a little hesitance. She wondered what the poor agents had done to get themselves stuck with the job of trying to take her. She stared back at them, smirking a little, daring them. With no other choice, the door slowly slid open and five agents walked in. She pushed herself to her feet and stood where she was. Who's the brave soul who's going to approach me first? She wondered, her eyes scanning the men in front of her. Body armor, rifles, side-arms… They looked like they had just gotten out of a war zone… or gone into one.

Finally, one stepped forward, arm out to grab her. She stabbed the screw into his eye socket and he went down with a scream. It had to have hurt. The scream was really something. It probably should've sparked some sort of remorse in her. It didn't. She had grabbed his side-arm before any of the others could react. Loud gunshots were nothing new to her, even in closed spaces after so much silence. She fired a shot off without hesitation and the thump of a body hitting the ground did even less for her. She threw the gun into the face of a third agent. She grabbed the last one by the hair and brought his face into his knee. Grabbing his knife from his belt, she made quick work of the still living agents. Only one gun, her own, had been fired, she had sustained no injures and she had no regret. That was the way Hydra had trained her. A rush of adrenaline surged through her; she was actually fighting Hydra. She ran out of the room, knife in hand.

Pierce and the doctor were halfway down the hall, but had turned at the sound of gunfire. Pierce stared at her and she looked at him. Then she took off in the opposite direction, her shoulders brushing against each wall of the claustrophobic hallway. If someone shot at her… Well, it would be nearly impossible to miss.

She ducked around the corner as soon as she saw it and looked around. There was an air vent above her. She leapt up, grabbed the grate and it popped off in her hand. She scrambled into the airshaft and started army-crawling her way forward. Her mind started working mechanically, on instinct alone. She made good time going through the airshaft, reaching her destination right before the alarms starting going off. She pulled the grate off and dropped down into the hallway. She was three floors above where she had been and all the guards that had rushed to try and contain her were long gone. She kept moving.

Up a flight of a stairs… Dispose of two surprised agents… Grab a second knife…. Keep moving. Around corners, past doors. She found the door she wanted and kicked it open, dropping and sliding on the floor to avoid two armed guards on either side of the door. She threw the knives behind her; she didn't need to look to knew they'd found their marks in the bodies of the guards. There was only one doctor in the room and he was hardly a threat. Yet, she still had to take him out, for revenge if nothing else. She jumped up and grabbed the doctor by the throat. He tried to choke out something that sounded like 'please don't hurt me', but she was too busy slamming him against the ground to care. She held him there with a vice-like grip, his feeble hits and kicks doing nothing against her. Once he passed out from lack of oxygen, she stood up and ran to a metal container against the wall.

How do I get him out? She had never done anything like this in all her years at Hydra. She had never fought back, she had never wondered how to get out, how to get the only person that she even remotely cared for out.

The Winter Soldier had been in cryo longer than she cared to know; he was only used for the big jobs. He was the best gun in their arsenal. The doctor had been checking his vitals, but he hadn't been preparing to open the container. She had a feeling it was more complicated than just flipping off a power switch.

Pain shot through her shoulder and she fell against the container, sliding down into a kneeling position. Blood was gushing out of a brand new gunshot wound; her head whipped around towards Pierce as he strode into the room, gun in hand. That's just like Pierce, wanting to handle his little toys on his own, unafraid, she thought. She cradled her arm against her chest, pressing her palm against the front of her shoulder to try and staunch the bleeding, but her eyes were glaring at Pierce.

"Sputnik." Shutdown code. Immediately, she started to slouch over, fighting to stay alert and determined. No, no, I am not just going to shut down, she told herself. She banged her head against the container, hard enough to really hurt, hard enough to keep her awake. Pierce made a disappointed clicking sound with his tongue.

She kept her eyes trained on him, even as she clenched her fists so tightly her palms bled under the pressure of her fingernails. Her head was ringing, her shoulder was aching and now her hands hurt. But she was still conscious.

"I don't want to have to put you down." Pierce told her, as casually as if they were discussing the weather over a cup of tea. The words he didn't say rang out loud and clear: but I will if I have to.

"Put me down. Go ahead! You've used me long enough!" She didn't care if she was dramatic, she didn't care if he was about to shoot her, she didn't care about any of it.

How long have I being working for them? The days and weeks had blurred together, waking up and going into cryo, the first good portion of her life involved getting her blood drawn and being put through a series of physical tests, though those stopped after a while… It was all a blur of pain and death and her naïve way of thinking. She had let them manipulate her. How many people had she killed? She had gotten too long of a leash. She had seen the world she was helping to destroy. She had slacked on her training. She had been awake too long, left with her thoughts. She was dangerous. To the world, to Hydra, to herself. To everyone. And she didn't care anymore. So she stared at Pierce, her eyes daring for him to shoot her, to loose one of his prized weapons. He would have to explain that to the heads of Hydra and she would die with the satisfaction that he had failed.

"Oh, you're being dramatic." Pierce complained, rolling his eyes. She leapt up and charged him. Obviously, he wasn't expecting her to do that. Still, he managed to pull the trigger a split second before she tackled him to the ground.

Pain shot through her side as she wrestled the gun out of Pierce's hand. After a long moment, both of them lost their grip on it. The gun slid across the floor, so she settled for trying to punch him out. He kept blocking her, striking back at her with surprising strength. She'd never thought of him as a fighter. He grabbed her upper arm, putting too much pressure on her bullet wound for her to take. She rolled onto her back on the floor, but he wasn't done with her yet. He kneeled over her, punching her again and again, trying to beat her into submission.

She brought one leg up, kicking him in the back of the head. A fist to the throat. Her knee to the small of his back. He rolled off her and she jumped at the chance to cause him some pain. She punched him. Again. Again. So many times she lost count. At some point, she realized he was unconscious. She debated beating him to death, but the pain in her side and shoulder shot down that idea. She rolled over onto her back again, breathing deeply and trying to refocus her thoughts. The Winter Soldier.

Somehow, she managed to get herself upright again and stumbled over to the container. There has to be a way to get him out, there has to be a button, a switch, something! She searched all over the surface of the container and then went to the computer. She didn't understand anything the screen was telling her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her hand against the wound on her side. The bullet had merely grazed her side, there was no way it could have hit anything important. Other than her body, of course. Still, it hurt. The wound on her shoulder was still practically gushing blood.

Opening her eyes with some effort, she stared at the computer screen and then up at the cryo chamber. He wouldn't leave you, she told herself. But she also remembered what the man that had trained her had always told her: keep yourself alive, no matter what. He wouldn't want her to die, not like this. He probably would have had a tizzy fit if he'd seen the way she'd just sat there, daring Pierce to kill her. The Winter Soldier having a tizzy fit… That would've been a sight to see. She hit the table the computer was on with her fists. The blood from the people she'd already punched out dripped off her knuckles, the blood from her own wounds quickly rolling down her arm to join the pool. Watching her blood mingle with that of Hydra agents put her in a daze of sorts. Seconds later, it broke her out of that daze. She was done mingling with Hydra. She raised her eyes to look at the container.

"I'm sorry." Then she ran.

She fought what agents she had to, making her way through the tunnels that led her up into another less than secure building. It was an old store, dusty racks of clothing were still there but the windows were boarded up. This was all on purpose; in case an emergency forced Hydra to bring everyone up. They would have to ditch their Hydra patches and uniforms and exchange them for normal clothes. There was something for everyone, which suited her well. There was no way she'd been able to fit into something meant for another agent without looking like a five year old in her dad's clothing. She was tall, for a girl, but she was still skinny and lean. And a girl. For whatever reason, she rarely saw another female Hydra agent.

She ripped up old t-shirts for bandages, managing to stop most of the bleeding, though her entire face was still throbbing and bleeding from the beating Pierce had given her. She squirmed out of the leggings and tight black tank top she'd been given, exchanging them for regular jeans and a loose t-shirt that would hopefully hide her bandaged wounds.

After she had finished, she pushed the door open and walked out into the abandoned street. Russia. She knew her location from her failed mission, but that was pretty much all she knew. It was something to work off from, at least. So she started out at a brisk run to put some distance between her and Hydra.

She walked until her feet hurt so much that she couldn't go on. Her side ached, her shoulder was burning and she now had blisters on her feet. Perfect way to start the day, she thought as she collapsed on the sidewalk. The sun was rising and that would bring people out onto the street no doubt. But she decided she would risk resting for a moment. Besides, she needed to think and plan.

Hydra was going to be looking for her. How long until they stopped? Possibly never. Well, it's not like I know what a normal life is like anyway, she mused. She checked her arm; the bleeding had stopped and she could ignore the pain. She didn't want to take the bandage off her side; she would never get the bleeding stopped if it started again. So she retied the fabric around the wound on her shoulder and left it at that.

She was a fugitive, sure, but there was no way Hydra was getting anyone else involved in this. She would have loved to see how that conversation would go:

"Excuse me, police; we've seemed to have misplaced our assassin."

So she only had to worry about one enemy. Everything about her would be kept pretty quiet, only the heads of Hydra would know how dangerous she really was. So she was fairly safe, by her calculations. Still, she was going to have to prepare herself to be hunted down like an animal.

There. She was prepared. Bring it on, Hydra, she thought, now only halfheartedly smug. With some effort, she pushed herself to her aching feet and started walking.

A/N So this is an idea that's been rattling around my head for a while and I've written and rewritten more times than I care to count. I'm finally happy with this version of it, though I'm sure it could still be better. But it's out in the world now and I intend to continue and go all the way through the Marvel movies with it.

There will be five chapters as sort of an intro and explanation of how she fits into the Avengers universe, then it will start with the first Avengers movie.

I love reviews, so please tell me what you think. If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them.

~ RoniMikaelson