I hit the mat again with a heavy thud that know is the breath out of me. The exhaustion of trying non-stop to find my trigger has drained everything out of me. Plus, it's the fifth time today, and still nothing. "What exactly is this supposed to accomplish besides pissing me off?" I ask and glare at Bucky.

"We're trying to find what they did so we can start to undo it."

"Well clearly the current approach isn't working, and as desperate as I am to be free of whatever influence it is, I'm not sure how much longer I can carry on like this."

Bucky extends a hand. "You and I both know you can if you put yourself to it, and if you're still hellbent on personally taking down Major, this is the only way. So get up. You know what you have to do."

The last sentence rings through my head. Except it's not Bucky's voice. It's Major's, who sneers as he practically spits the words in my face. For a second, everything flickers through shades of red.

I roll my shoulders and the memory off as I face Bucky against. "Fine. Let's do this." I raise my fists and wait for him to make his move, but he hesitates. "What? You got stage fright or something?" I question and nod towards the armed guards watching from every entrance.

"No, I'm just trying to figure out what else to try." His brow furrows as he stares at me. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, but it's not like I have much of a choice." I reply with a shrug.

"Didn't you bust up your nose that day?"

"Yeah, but I don't see how that's relevant."

"Well, we're about to find out if it is." I offer him a questioning look that quickly turns to surprise as his fist quickly jabs at my nose. It sends a wave of pain radiating across my face, and when I touch my face, there's a trickle of blood pouring down.

My hand shakes as I look up at Bucky. The red slowly creeping over the entirety of my vision. I feel myself moving independently of my thoughts as I kick Bucky in the knee and then ramming mine into his nose.

He retaliates by grabbing my waist and slamming me into the mats again and attempts to pin my arms, but I plant my foot and flip. "You know better than that, Soldier."

"I really hope you can hear me, little one." He replies in Russian, "You need to shake it off. Think of who you really are and push back."

All that escapes me is a low grumble as I launch myself at him using nearly every dirty trick and move I that was ingrained in my head. I try, but I can't lessen the force of my punches or stop what's happening. The more I struggle, the brighter the haze of red clouding everything.

I feel my breath becoming rapid as the fight continues. My knuckles ache as they split from the repeated punches. I'm stuck inside my own head, and I feel as helpless as I did all the years in Hydra's control.

Something catches my arms and keeps them from moving, and there's a gentle touch that brushes against my cheek. "It's okay. Take a deep breath and come back."

The thing in my head screams and thrashes against me as I try to break through. Gentle hands hold onto my face. They encourage me to push harder. It's like walking through waste deep sludge towards a shore that keeps moving away with every step, but as suddenly as I take a single step, I'm free.

All the energy is sapped from every muscle, and I fall right into Peter's arms. "It's okay. You're alright."

"We did it, kiddo." Bucky adds with a soft, encouraging smile, "We found what your trigger is."

"Which is why you need to take me somewhere else." I manage through heaving breaths. "I have a feeling that's not the only one, and I need to be somewhere secure while we figure out what they are and how to get rid of them."

"No, you—you can stay here."

"She's got a point." Bucky interjects, "Her handler was prone to redundancy plans, and I know people who she can get every bit of help she needs."

"But why can't they come here? Where we can keep her safe—where I can keep her safe?"

"Peter," I call, but he still argues with Bucky about whether or not I should go. No matter what I say, neither seem to hear me until I snap, "Don't I get a say in this? I thought being here meant I get to choose for the first time, or are you gonna convince yourselves you know what's best for me?"

Shame overcomes both of their faces as they avoid my eye. I scoff and push myself to my feet despite the exhaustion. The guards stand at attention at the doorway, but relax as I offer my hands for the cuffs. "I'd like to go back to my room, please."
I pause turning to watch the pair out of the corner of my eye, "Alone—at least until you can figure your issues out."

I pass Rogers and Tony in the kitchen where they seem to be having a hushed, tense conversation that pauses as I pass. It may just be paranoia after decades in and out of the ice and on missions, but I get the feeling that whatever the issue is involves me. Steve's eyes lock on mine. The war being silently waged reflected in them.

I nod, knowing the exact feeling and offer what I hope is an encouraging smile despite how my mouth fights to only frown. He offers the same in reply, which makes me feel a fraction better.

My room is deathly silent and still. It takes me a moment to remember I'm not returning to my cell. I settle on the edge of my bed as a guard takes off the cuffs and the others aim their weapons at me. Not that I'd actually try anything.

I turn on the tv to finish watching an episode Peter and I had to stop. It's the best I can think of to get my mind away from earlier. The way I was trapped inside my own mind, helpless and barely able to see or fight back. It's terrifying. I spent so many years in and out of that state, and I'd give anything to be truly free of it.

There's a gentle knock on the door that brings me back to myself and I realize I've been crying. I quickly wipe the tears from my cheeks before the door opens. "If you're here to argue about my decision, I'm not going to change my mind."

"And what decision would that be?" Steve asks as he leans against the doorway.

"It's nothing." I sigh and pull my knees closer to my chest. "Bucky said he know's some people who helped him get rid of all the Hydra control, and I wanna go. Of course, he and Peter keep arguing about what's best for me."

"Yeah, they mentioned that. Asked me to check in on you."

"Figures." I roll my eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate them looking out for me, but I can handle it. I've lived through things most people can't imagine and survived."

"No one said you couldn't."

"But they won't let me make my own decision." The tears prick at the back of my eyes, threatening to return. "I just want to finally be free—to make my own choices, choose when I get to fight and what for, and as long as this stuff is in my head, I can't."

I meet Steve's gaze with his brows furrowed in thought. "You know, I know the same people that helped Bucky." I pause, waiting for him to say something—to make an offer.

"Can I—Do you think they could help me too?"

"It won't be easy."

"I've never known anything that was."

"I don't know that they'd let you have contact with anyone."

"I'm used to that too." I shrug, "Then again, I have people I care about now, but if it's what it takes to be better for them—to make sure they're safe around me."

Steve stays silent for a long moment. "Pack up what you'd need. I'll see what I can do."

My whole body immediately relaxes as the sense of relief washes over me. I don't bother to hold back the tears and allow them to freely escape as I run and wrap him in a hug. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." He chuckles and pats my back before taking a step back. "If all goes well, we should be able to leave in the morning. So be ready."

"Okay." I whisper as my mind races with what exactly being ready entails. It's not like I have a life to pack. I barely have any clothes to worry about. There's just one thing that I would need to do.

The only issue is how.

"Hey," Peter's voice practically whispers as he leans through a cracked door, "Steve said we should probably talk?"

"Yeah, I guess we should." I reply as I sit on the bed and stare at the floor to avoid looking at him.

Peter sighs, shifting on his feet as he speaks, "I don't blame you for still being mad at me. You have ever right to be. It was stupid of me to jump in and try to make the choice—any choice—for you. I know you can make decisions, but when I thought you might leave, it's like someone punched me in the chest.

"I felt like I couldn't breathe. All I could think was 'who was gonna have movie and take out nights with me?' 'How will she be safe?' 'How long is she gonna be gone?' and 'will she even remember me when she gets back?'"

"I promise I won't forget you." I say as I finally meet his eyes. "Not that it's even possible to do so, but I promise I won't."

"Wait? What are you saying?"

"Steve said he knows the people who helped Bucky, and he thinks they could help me too. So, if they'll have me, I'm going." My eyes linger on the almost faded bruises that threaten to make tears spill again. "I need to be free of this. I need to know that I can never be under their control again as easily as before, that I can think for myself without dreading anything and everything, that I know I'll never intentionally hurt anyone I care about again."

"I underst—wait, did you just say—?"

"Yeah, I did." I shrug. "I still have no clue when it happened, and at first, I thought maybe it was because you had helped me so much. Then I realized it wasn't that, but I don't know if it's love or not since I've never really felt anything like that—or this—before now. It was just in all those other moments in between—watching movies, telling me your stories, and seeing that no matter what happened, you just saw me, and I realized it would kill me if you ever stopped or something happened to you. It's okay if you don't feel the—"

"I do." He cuts me off as that smile that always makes my stomach flutter tugs at his lips. "I care about you too."

"Oh, that's good. I guess?" I stare down at my fidgeting hands, "Sorry we said it right before I have to leave."

"I'll forgive you on one condition."

"Which is?"

"You promise to come back."

I laugh despite myself, "I think I can manage that, and—" I pause as I grab the chip I stashed shortly after arriving from inside the bedside lamp, "—as proof, I want you to hold on to this."

Peter gently takes it, looking between it and me. "What is it?"

"Ever scrap of information I have on the key Hydra players, past and present, including the Major. His patterns, habits, vices, tendencies, and everything I learned while I was with him. He doesn't even know it exists. I used to steal phones in between fights to update the info so he wouldn't know."

"Really? That awesome. I can give this to Mr. Stark and—"

"Don't." I snap, "If anyone gets the right to take down the Major, I want it to be me. I want to look him in the eyes as he sees his greatest asset turned against him, as he realizes I'll never be his pet again and that he'll rot for what he did. When I get back, then we can give it to Stark and the others, but I want to be able to join that fight. So, please, promise me you'll keep it safe."

"I promise." He whispers as his hand lingers on mine.

"Will you stay?" I ask so quietly I don't know if he even heard it. "We could have one last movie night and stuff before—before it all changes again."

Peter just smiles and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead as he mumbles, "I wouldn't have it any other way."