' ' Perfect Enough To Break ' '

Planned To The Second

"Oh, I disagree." He steps closer, hands clasped behind his back like a professor giving a lecture. "You gave everyone quite the scare, you know. They're all thrilled to see you safe. Though this little rebellion of yours? Wasn't exactly on the schedule."

I narrow my eyes. "I wasn't rebelling. I was escaping."

He chuckles, as if I told a child's joke. "Of course. 'Escaping.' Playing hero with the Avengers, pretending you were ever anything but ours. It's sweet, really."

My fists clench at my sides. "I'm not yours."

"You were our finest weapon," he says, not missing a beat. "Precise. Efficient. Loyal. Until something in you cracked."

He studies me like I'm a machine he once built.

"But I planned for that. You see, I always knew you'd slip. Even the best blades dull with time. So we made sure the retrieval would be easy when the time came. Leaked intel. Whispers. A little tragedy here, a little guilt there... and they came running. Right on cue."

Every word hits like a slap.

"You planned the whole thing."

He doesn't deny it.

"They think they rescued you," he says softly. "But this was the operation. Bringing the asset home. And it worked beautifully."

I take a step back. My chest is tight, heartbeat pounding. I want to scream, but that's what he wants. I won't give him the satisfaction.

His eyes darken slightly. "Still quiet, Ace? I remember when silence meant obedience. Now it just sounds like denial."

And then—his voice lowers, a breath short of venom.

"You don't honestly believe Barnes cares about you, do you?" he murmurs. "He said it himself once. You were just another tool. But we—we know your worth. You're not disposable here. You're powerful. Pure."

I stare at him, eyes burning.

He sighs, mock-regretful. "When we get to the new base, we'll have to reevaluate you, of course. This little performance raised some... concerns. But it's nothing a few sessions won't fix."

That's when I know.

There's no fixing this. Not the way he wants.

I straighten slowly. My voice, when it comes, is cold steel.

Pierce watches me. Calm. Calculated. Like a man who's already won.

"You think I'm the same girl you programmed," I say, my voice low. Controlled. "But I remember now. I remember everything."

He tilts his head slightly. That mocking, infuriating smile still clinging to his lips. "Do you?"

I blink. Just once. And he sees it. The hesitation.

Because I do remember. All of it. Every command. Every room. Every kill. Every moment of silence that screamed obedience. But I also remember Bucky. The weight of his eyes on mine. The way he looked at me back in that room, when they found me. The way he left.

"Funny," Pierce says, voice cutting smooth as glass. "You still flinch when you hear his name. Still chasing shadows. Tell me, Ace—what exactly did you think he was to you?"

I look away.

"He came for me," I say. It sounds defensive. It is.

"He came for a mission," Pierce corrects, stepping closer. "He found an asset. Completed the job. And walked away. Again."

"No—"

"He didn't even stay, did he? Not when it mattered. You were barely on your feet, and he still walked out of that room like you were a ghost. So tell me: is that the kind of man who sees you as anything but a broken weapon?"

My breath catches. Because it's true. I remember the cold hallway. The look in his eyes. That wall he always throws up the second things get real.

"You don't even know what you want from him," Pierce murmurs, voice like a noose tightening. "Is it loyalty? Love? Pity? You won't get any of that from Barnes. He's spent his whole life running from attachments. You're just another version of what he's trying to forget."

My hands are shaking.

I hadn't even noticed.

"And deep down," Pierce says, stepping around me like a vulture circling prey, "you know I'm right. That's why it hurts. That's why you're angry. Not at me. At yourself. Because you let yourself believe in something."

I turn my face away, jaw tight. I feel that old metal mask trying to slam back into place. That part of me I buried in cold cells and training simulations. The part of me that never hoped.

Because I can't afford to. Not again.

"You don't need him," Pierce says. "You never did. What you need is purpose. Control. Power. Freedom. And you know where that is."

He holds out a hand.

It shouldn't tempt me.

It shouldn't even make sense.

But I stare at it.

And all I can think is: Why do I care? Why does it still hurt?

Pierce's smile sharpens. "You were made to be unstoppable. Let me remind you."

I hesitate but what else can I do? What other option do I have?

I take his hand and his grin widens in satisfaction