Chapter 2

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TW: mention of self-harm

-Avengers Tower, NYC, 2013-

Catarina had a mission.

Catarina has a mission.

Catarina failed a mission.

Her body shook with undoubtedly fear. She couldn't even get her usual comfort out of her screaming that made her throat swear, as they stuck a piece of tap haphazardly around her mouth. Hands tied behind the metal chair, by a rope that burned her skin at each movement.

She was supposed to be back with them. Back in her Cell proud to have impressed them with another success of a mission. But now, she was stuck with the Avengers who she was badly debriefed about before.

- Iron-man who was as actually a billionaire that flew around in a metal suit and shoots lasers.

- Captain America was a strong man from the 40s who was in ice for years. (that reminded her of the Winter Solider. Was he the one that escaped?)

- The Hulk was only a man until he got,
Then turned big, mean and green?

- Hawkeye was very good at shooting things, especially arrows. Catharina suspected she could do better. She was top of her classes.

- Thor was god and had a hammer that could shoot lighting. And was also strong.

- Lastly was the Black Widow. Now Catharina knew her, she was trained in the same place as her. A legend in the ranks of the Academy.

Now all the descriptions were the only things that had caught her attention in her partially developed child brain. So obviously they weren't going to be accurate and they had sent the worst possible people to brief her anyways. She never failed, If she did it was not this. Being tied to the enemy's chair was much fun.

All six looked at her like a fragile doll, or a snake, about to strike at all times. Looking around she saw all her weapons laid out on a table even the ones she thought she had hidden well in all the little parts of her uniform. Only that was also stripped rudely of her, now wearing what look akin
To the clothes she wore before, only less ratted and rough in her skin.

Such pleasures she wasn't allowed back where she came from. It made them weak.

Shifting in her chair again, she glared down at all the people. A glare that much to her confusion made them laugh. How dare they laugh at her. She'd killed more than they knew. She wasn't to be the centre of laughter for goodness sake. She was a highly trained killer from birth.

Soon after that fit of laughter, the strange group died down and they all straightened up and looked at her now tensely. That's better. The man, she guess was Tony Stark or Iron Man, looked at her as he spoke.

"Right mini Romanov, who are you and why are you here? Then the obvious to tackle down the larger one."

The tap was ripped off her mouth with a harshness that was not needed. Her leg bounced in an odd sort of nervousness as she surveyed them. Furrowing her eyebrows as what the man had referred her too.

She can't speak to the enemy. What would that say when she escapes, what would the punishment be?

Her heart was hamming in her throat, as her eyes flickered between the lot of them. Silently assessing them for anything that could be deemed dangerous. They where all...safe?

Only she had eyes her the woman in the group. Tilting her head, Catarina remembered the moment before she went to plunge her knife through the woman's chest, she had stopped. The moment of weakness caused her to get knocked out.

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