CECELIA RESTED HER HEAD against the cold metal wall of the Quinjet, her frame curled up against the seat. The hum of the engines vibrated through her bones, but it wasn't enough to drown out the thoughts racing through her head. She tried to focus on the steady rhythm, tried to let it lull her into some kind of calm, but it was useless.

She was thinking. Thinking about when they were leaving. Thinking about the way Natasha had looked at her before they boarded.

It wasn't pity, but it was. Maybe it was understanding. Cecelia wasn't sure, but she felt like it was a good thing—maybe. Maybe Natasha really did understand how she felt.

They forced her to kill. And deep inside, there was always a small voice, screaming at her not to do it. Don't kill them. Don't hurt them. But the voice was never strong enough. Everything Hydra taught her, the rules they drilled into her head, the punishments they forced her to endure, always won in the end.

Kill or be killed. Show no mercy. They are bad, you are good. You work wonders for mankind. You help people. You are shaping the future.

They told her these things over and over, whispering them in her ear like lullabies, until she believed them. Until the eyes staring up at her, wide with fear, didn't make her hesitate anymore. Until the blood on her hands didn't feel wrong.

But sometimes, reality slipped through the cracks. Sometimes she knew what they made her do was wrong. Sometimes she refused.

It went on for years.

They kept her mouth covered with a mask, something that looked like a muzzle, something that made her feel like an animal. It silenced her cries, muffled her pain, erased her voice.

She was silent.

And then, one day, she wasn't.

She escaped. She got away from Hydra and their tortures. She stopped killing.

She thought that meant it was over. That the pain, the suffering, the nightmares would all just disappear.

But they didn't.

She saw herself in the mirror, and her stomach twisted with sickness. When she closed her eyes, she didn't see safety, she saw faces.

Cecelia knew every single one of them. Their faces followed her wherever she went, lingering in the corners of her vision, watching her with the same fear they had in their final moments.

Men. Women. Adults. Children.

Some of them had names.

She remembered them all. And she hated it.

She wasn't human. She was a machine. A ruthless, killing machine.

The hum of the Quinjet wasn't enough to drown them out. The whispering in her head never truly stopped.

"What's gonna happen to your friends?"

The sudden voice cut through the silence, and Cecelia's thoughts came to a screeching halt. She looked up, her hands curling into fists as she turned toward James.

He had asked Steve the question.

Steve exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He looked down, guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders. "I don't know," he admitted. "Whatever it is... I'll deal with it."

Cecelia lowered her gaze back to the floor.

"I don't know if I'm worth all this, Steve," James murmured, his voice quiet, haunted.

Cecelia understood that feeling all too well. She didn't look up when she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you're not worth it, neither am I. So this was all just a waste of time."

Steve turned, his blue eyes darkening with something unreadable. The weight of her words crushed into him like a punch to the gut.

"What you did all those years... it wasn't you," Steve said gently. "You didn't have a choice."

Cecelia let out a slow breath, rubbing at her tired eyes with the back of her sleeve.  "I did." she whispered. She wasn't brainwashed like James...she tried to convince herself she didn't have a choice, but she did...in her mind she did.

"But I did it."

Hours later they'd landed, Cecelia finally fell asleep. It was a long flight and her body needed to heal. Luckily because of the super soldier serum, her cuts healed over, only leaving dried up blood.

"Ready?" Bucky asked, Cecelia nodded her head as she stood up. The two walked over to Steve. He opened the doors to the quinjet, and they slowly went down. The cold winds brushed into the quinjet, sending a shiver through Cecelia.

The three stood there, waiting, and Steve broke silence. "You remember that one time when we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?" Steve asked Bucky, looking at him.

"Is that the time you used our train money to buy hot dogs?" Bucky asked him, a smile growing on his face.

"You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead." Steve said, the smiles still on their faces. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, getting a thought.

"What was her name, again?" Bucky asked, Steve looked ahead.

"Dolores. You called her Dot." Steve said, Cecelia smiled as she looked down at her boots. They were scuffed up there were small rips, but none big enough to take a lot of notice.

"She's gotta be a hundred years old right now." Bucky said, Steve placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a light pat.

"So are we, pal."

They walked through the doors and over to where they could find an entrance. They walked inside, going to an elevator. It was silent, only the sound of footsteps being heard as they went through the facility.

The elevator doors to the Hydra facility in Siberia slid open with a soft hiss. Steve stood at the front, the first to step out. The moment the doors parted, Cecelia raised her handgun, her small fingers gripping it tightly as she scanned the area. She had learned never to let her guard down.

The three super soldiers moved cautiously through the building, their steps careful and deliberate. The air was heavy with silence, the kind that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. They made sure to stay alert, no mistakes, no surprises.

James had his mind set on two things: finding the man responsible for all of this and keeping Cecelia safe.

As they climbed the stairs, a sudden, loud thud echoed through the space. Instinctively, they turned, bodies tensed for a fight. James positioned himself behind Cecelia, ready to shield her if necessary, while Steve, standing ahead, gripped his shield tightly, prepared to protect them both at any cost.

"You ready?" Steve asked, glancing back at them.

James answered for the both of them. "Yes."

Cecelia simply cocked her handgun, the sound sharp in the silence.

The doors in front of them began to open, slowly, a faint light spilling through the widening gap.

Then, from between the metal panels, Tony Stark stepped forward, prying the doors apart with the enhanced strength of his suit. His mask retracted with a quiet mechanical hum, revealing his face.

He strode toward them, his gaze sweeping over the three super soldiers. Steve stepped forward to meet him, but when Cecelia tried to follow, James reached out and grabbed the back of her shirt, pulling her back. A silent message. Stay close. Stay alert. Cecelia understood. She didn't protest.

Tony's eyes flickered to them, noticing their guarded stance. "You seem a little defensive," he remarked, his usual humor laced through his words.

Cecelia shook her head at his attempt at a joke.

"It's been a long day," Steve replied as he moved toward him.

Tony raised his hands slightly, a sign of peace. "At ease, soldiers. I'm not currently after you guys." His words were directed at James and Cecelia, but neither of them lowered their weapons. Their fingers remained steady on the triggers, their bodies still tense.

"Then why are you here?" Steve asked, his voice even.

Tony gave a small shrug. "Maybe your story's not so crazy. Maybe. Ross has no idea I'm here, and I'd like to keep it that way," he admitted, stepping closer. "Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself." He stopped in his tracks, his expression unreadable.

"Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork," Steve responded, a hint of amusement in his voice as he finally lowered his shield, no longer holding it in a defensive position.

Tony scoffed, shaking his head. Despite everything, there was something familiar in their exchange.

"It's good to see you, Tony," Steve said.

Tony gave a small nod, his expression softening. "You too, Cap."

His gaze then shifted past Steve, landing on Cecelia and James. Their guns were still trained on him, their eyes locked onto his every movement.

"Hey, Manchurian Candidates, you're killing me. There's a truce here. You can drop..." Tony trailed off, raising his eyebrows.

Steve turned back toward them, raising a hand, signaling for them to stand down.

Only then did they lower their weapons, but the tension in their shoulders didn't ease. Cecelia's grip remained firm, her finger still hovering near the trigger.

Some habits were impossible to break.

Tony walked ahead, his mask reforming over his face with a mechanical hiss. Beside him, Steve adjusted his shield, keeping it raised in front of him as a barrier between them and whatever danger lay ahead. James checked his rifle, while Cecelia did the same with her handgun, the click of the slide echoing through the empty corridor.

"I'm getting heat signals," Tony announced, his metal-clad hand raised in front of him. His voice, though filtered through his suit, was sharp.

Steve turned his head slightly. "How many?"

"Uh... one."

Their footsteps echoed as they entered a dimly lit chamber. The moment they stepped inside, overhead lights flickered to life with a low hum, illuminating the scene before them.

Five cryo-pods lined the walls, their glass panels fogged over, their metallic exteriors coated in a thin layer of frost.

But inside them were lifeless bodies.

Cecelia's breath caught in her throat, her stomach lurching violently. She took an unsteady step forward, her wide eyes locked onto the frozen corpses. The super-soldiers inside...they were gone. Dead.

Her throat felt tight as she swallowed back the sick feeling rising in her chest. The silence was shattered by a voice crackling through a speaker. "If it's any comfort, they died in their sleep."

Cecelia's head snapped up.

Zemo.

James tensed beside her, his grip tightening on his weapon. He took a slow step forward, Cecelia following close behind, her eyes darting between the frozen faces inside the pods. Some of them she recognized.

"Do you really think I wanted more of you?"
Zemo's voice dripped with disgust. Cecelia could hear the disdain in his words, the way he practically spat them out.

James moved cautiously, scanning the room, his body rigid with tension. Cecelia stayed just behind him, her senses sharp.

"What the hell?" James muttered under his breath, his disbelief echoing in the stillness.

Steve and Tony stood frozen, staring at the horrifying sight before them.

"I'm grateful for them, though," Zemo continued, his voice eerily calm. "They brought you here."

A shadow shifted beyond a glass window, and then, Zemo revealed himself.

Without hesitation, Tony raised his hand, a repulsor blast primed and ready to fire. At the same time, Steve hurled his shield toward the glass, but it rebounded harmlessly back at him.

"Please, Captain," Zemo said, his tone almost mocking. "The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets."

Tony didn't hesitate. "I'm betting I could beat that," he shot back, aiming his repulsor again.

Cecelia barely heard them. Her gaze had fallen on one of the pods, a woman inside, her face eerily still. The glass of the chamber, the icy confinement, it was suffocating.

Cecelia hated cryo-freeze.

Because every time James went in he came out differently. He wouldn't be back for months...She'd have to make him remember who she was.

A shiver crawled down her spine.

"I'm betting I could beat that," Tony repeated, as Steve took a step toward Zemo.

Zemo didn't flinch.

"Oh, I'm sure you could, Mr. Stark," Zemo mused, his voice as casual as if they were discussing the weather. "Given time. But then you'd never know why you came."

The air in the room shifted.

Steve narrowed his eyes. "You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?" His voice was laced with disbelief, but also something colder, anger.

Zemo exhaled slowly, his hands clasped in front of him. "I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you're standing here..." He paused, then tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering toward Cecelia.

"...I just realized... there's a bit of green in the blue of your eyes." Steve just looked angry, he didn't say anything he was just glaring...A cruel chuckle escaped Zemo's lips, the satisfaction evident in his expression. "How nice to find a flaw."

Cecelia clenched her fists, her breathing shallow.

James, standing beside her, was seething. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap.

"You're Sokovian," Steve said, his voice cutting through the tension. "Is that what this is about?"

Zemo's eyes didn't leave Cecelia.

"Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell," he replied smoothly. "No. I'm here because I made a promise."

Steve nodded, his voice softer now. "You lost someone?" Zemo stared at him, his expression unreadable. Then, after a beat, he spoke.

"I lost everyone," he said. His voice didn't waver. It was steady. Cold. "And so will you." Before anyone could react, he pressed a button and a screen flickered to life.

The moment the video started playing, Cecelia's blood ran cold. A road. A dark, empty road.

Tony stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "What is this?" No answer came from anyone and the footage continued.

A car appeared on the screen, moving swiftly down the road. Then, out of nowhere came a violent crash.

The car slammed into a tree, metal crumpling, glass shattering and a motorcycle came beside it.

"Help my wife. Please. Help." Howard Stark. Kneeling on the ground, bloodied, desperate. He was yanked up by his hair.

"Sergeant Barnes?"

December 16, 1991.

Howard and Maria Stark were murdered by the Winter Soldier in turn for the super soldier serum...

"Howard!" Maria's voice rang out, filled with terror.

The Winter Soldier moved to the passenger side, reaching through the shattered window. Maria Stark was now bleeding, beggingC and crying.

Tony's breath came out unevenly. James felt his gaze burning into him.

On the screen, the Soldier wrapped his hand around Maria's throat. He squeezed, Maria gasped, she struggled. And then came silence.

James raised his gun to the camera.

A gunshot rang out.

The screen went black.

Tony barely had time to process before rage took over.

He lunged toward James, and Cecelia had put herself in front of him. Cecelia stumbled back, James moving with her. Steve caught Tony by the arm, holding him back.

"No, Tony!"

Tony whipped around to face him, his expression twisted with grief and fury.

"Did you know?" Steve froze. His hesitation was enough of an answer.

Tony's voice cracked. "Did. You. Know?"

Steve met his eyes.

"Yes."

Tony shoved him off.

This wouldn't end without a fight.