Dim light buzzes from overhead fluorescent lights, cold against the concrete walls. Industrial, secure, hidden. Much like the facilities I was kept in... like Bucky? Was kept in. His name. It still doesn't feel right. Not because of his name... but the fact I now know it.

The four of us are ushered inside, wet from rain, bloodied, battered, and silent. Natasha leans heavily on Steve's arm. Sam trails close behind, scanning the room with sharp, assessing eyes.

I pause at the threshold. Shadows coil lightly at my boots, responding to my nerves. Why do hideouts always have to be like this? I enjoy darkness, just without bars and concrete walls. Cold walls like this remind me of cells, of metal tables and white lights.

Sam's eyes flicker back at me, his voice breaks through, low, not soft. "You good?"

I glance up and nod, "Yeah."

Maybe I answered too quick as I step forward, following him, Steve, Natasha and Maria. But it's all I can manage as my chest tightens.

"GSW. She's lost at least a pint." Maria orders, walking us into this hidden facility. Another unfamiliar guy—an ex shield agent I presume— rushing forward.

"Let me take her." The man says, a hint of urgency in his voice.

Maria shakes her head, "She'll wanna see him first."

I can see the confusion cloud both Natasha and Steve's expressions as we're lead deeper into concrete walls. Shadows lick at my feet. The darkness in here is nice, cool, comforting from the stark contrast of the sun. But these walls. God- they make me sick.

We're lead further. I'm silent, trailing a few steps behind Sam. As a plastic-like curtain comes into view. Maria leading us to it and instantly pulling it back.

It reveals Nick Fury. And I know happen to know who he is because he's searched for me before. My gaze flickers across Steve and Natasha, watching the mental fallout at the discovery he's still alive.

Natasha's breath catches in her throat, Steve's fists tightening. And despite both of their palpable emotions, I feel nothing. Not even relief for them.

He's laying in a hospital bed. Head tilting up and showing the infamous eye-patch as his rough voice echoes, "About Damn Time."

My gaze finds a clock, beside Fury's bed. I catch a glimpse of Steve lowering Nat down into a chair. But my Gaze his fixated on the clock. The screams linger in the back of my head again. Vivid. I almost forget where I am as shadows cling to my legs. It's different, it's not me zoning out. It's a fixation, a habit to pass time. Forget about the present. Each subtle tick of the clock on the wall gets louder. Heart thundering in my chest.

I'm not back there. I'm not trapped. It's almost a mantra. Then Sam's elbow Gently hits my arm pulling me out of it. He says nothing. Just catches my eyes and nods once. No pity. No concern. Just a reminder.

My focus shifts back to the conversation at hand. Shadows slowly disappearing from my legs as I focus my eyes back on Fury, Steve and Natasha.

"Lacerated Spinal Column, cracked sternum, shattered collarbone, perforated liver, and one hell of a headache.." Fury relays his injuries, Steve watching him with a steady eye. Hands firmly planted on his hips as Natasha lets someone treat the wound on her shoulder.

"Otherwise, I'm good." Fury reiterates. His Tone lingering with nothing but a dull rough exterior.

"They cut you open. Your heart stopped." Natasha voices, shaking her head. And I can feel her disbelief from here.

"Tetrodotoxin B. Slows the pulse to one beat per minute. Banner developed it for stress. Didn't work so great for him, but we found a use for it" Fury relays.

"Why all the secrecy? Why not just tell us?" Steve questions. I study it, his tone, for just a moment. It hasn't been the same since- Bucky.

"Any attempt on the directors life had to look successful." Maria speaks up. But my gaze is still on Steve.

"Can't kill you if you're already dead." Fury points out with a sliver of dry, dull sarcasm. "Besides, I wasn't sure who to trust..."