Chapter One

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***This story will not officially begin posting until mid to late February. I just wanted to post the first chapter since you were all so excited. So enjoy and look for more soon.***


Your early memories were hazy like trying to see the world through a fogged windscreen. There was a woman with a brilliant smile and sad eyes. Was that a cliché? You felt like it was but it didn't stop the memory from filling your brain during unexpected moments. That's all you have of her. A snippet of her smiling at you as she said your name.

And the man. Always poking and prodding at you like you were an experiment. He tried to give you away. To trade you for his freedom to soldiers dressed in black. Let me live and you can have her. Take her. She's perfect. I made her for you. That was all he managed to get out before they forced him to his knees and put a bullet in his brain. Then they took you anyway. He was a fool to think they needed his permission.

Then there were the worst memories of all filled with needles and pain and bullets and blood. Hydra gave you a new understanding of what it actually meant to be an experiment. They were making you into the perfect weapon. Training and molding you from such a young age. And you memorized the face of every person responsible for your pain. Every soldier, every doctor and, most of all, the dark-haired assassin with cold eyes and a metal arm that pretended to be your friend.

Then came the day Soldat was on mission and they left you behind. More men in black flooded the facility. You watched in silence taking in every movement, every action, every sound. It wasn't long after the shooting stopped that they opened your cell and someone stepped in. He was a quiet man. Careful. He didn't want to startle you. He leaned his weapon against the wall beside the door. Your gaze moved from him to the gun and back again. It wouldn't take much to kill him. The gun was unnecessary.

"My name's Phil." His hands were up to show he meant no harm as he approached you. "What's yours?"

You tilted your head and winced at the pain that shot through your head with the question as you tried to remember. When was the last time someone had asked your name? When was the last time anyone cared?

He stopped a short distance from you, just out of arm's reach. "Do you understand me? Do you speak English?"

You answered with a slight nod of your head.

He smiled. "Good. That's good. How old are you?"

That was a question you couldn't answer even if you wanted to. There was no way to keep track of the days here nor would you want to. You just continued to stare at your would-be rescuer.

"Coulson, what is taking so long?" A man with an eyepatch and a leather trench coat stepped into the room, his coat flaring out behind him. Dramatic. You wondered if he practiced that move. He spotted you and immediately came to a stop. "What's this?"

Your gaze moved between the two men. They didn't seem to want to hurt you, but you didn't trust anyone. Not anymore. You had a decision to make. You could fight and run and hope Hydra didn't catch up with you. That Soldat didn't come hunting for you. Or you could trust these people and hope it didn't get you killed.

"Are you taking me away from here?" Your voice was rough and you couldn't remember the last time it had been used for anything but screaming.

"Yes," eyepatch answered. "How we do that is up to you. I'd prefer you came along willingly."

"How will you use me?"

The men exchanged a look. "We have no intentions of using you," Phil said. "We only want to help."

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