Chapter Text
This morning I woke up with a strange feeling in my chest. The sky was grayer than usual. I felt a sudden wave of nausea and a sharp headache. I sat up in bed, eyes closed, trying to breathe. Then I stood up and got ready for the day. On the way to the kitchen, I bumped into Vision.
"Good morning, Mr. Stark," he said, reading a magazine.
"Morning, Vision. What's so interesting there?" I went straight to the coffee machine, waiting for the brew while watching Vision slowly head to the couch, still focused on the magazine.
"Wanda told me to read the entire magazine. She wants us to do pilates together and said we should follow the same stretches and exercises here." He sat down, crossing his legs. "These exercises are way too advanced for beginners. This isn't right."
I grabbed my mug and took a sip. Then I searched through the cabinets and found a pack of toast.
"I doubt any basic pilates exercise could hurt either of you. I don’t think you two really qualify as conventional beginners," I said, opening the fridge and spotting a jar of cream cheese. Perfect.
"You're right. Why didn't I think of that?" Vision looked at me in surprise. "These exercises are great. Now, what did Wanda ask me to do after reading this again?" He stood up, one hand on his waist, the other holding the magazine, and walked away deep in thought.
I started eating the toast, scanning the living room. It was strange trying to get used to the quiet now that fewer people lived here. At this time, Steve should’ve already been awake. Thinking about him made me lose my appetite. I forced down the three toast slices I’d already spread with cream cheese and downed my coffee in one gulp.
I had no plans for today. On my way to the lab, my phone vibrated. An unknown number. The notification preview read: "Khos. Wruxuh. Kgbud. Frog. Lqyhuwhg sdluv. Fds." A cold, tingling sensation ran through my body. I sprinted to the lab and opened the message. Another followed: "64.4557° N, 18.8190° E."
"Friday, copy and translate the message," I said, snapping a screenshot just before the message vanished.
"The text message is encrypted with a Caesar Cipher. It says: 'Help. Torture. Hydra. Cold. Inverted pairs. Cap.' The numbers are coordinates to a forest in Switzerland."
I clenched my jaw, trying not to throw up. Cap.
"Invert the pairs and check again," I said, rubbing my face as I stood.
"Coordinates 46.5475° N, 8.1189° E. That’s in the Swiss Alps, Canton of Glarus. Difficult to access, Mr. Stark."
"Prepare the Mark 46," I said, running to the bathroom. I dropped to my knees and emptied my breakfast into the toilet.
"Sir, the suit isn’t fully repaired. It’s not safe..."
"Just do what I said. Take me to those coordinates," I said, staggering as I rinsed my mouth.
"Ready, Mr. Stark." I ignored her disapproving tone and got into the suit, flying out the window as fast as possible.
---
The place was completely isolated. I scanned for any signs of life, but nothing. To make things worse, my connection to Friday was garbage.
"Sir... Care... ful..." I smacked my helmet in frustration.
"Don’t you dare leave me now," I muttered. The snow fogging my vision didn’t help.
I crash-landed among some trees. The suit powered down.
"What the hell...?" Several men emerged from the trees. I stood and tried to fight, but each carried iron rods and beat me with them relentlessly.
"Friday! Respond!" One of them tore off a piece of the suit from the back of my left thigh. They tackled me to the ground and pinned me down. I felt them lifting my leg, holding it. While I struggled, something pricked my exposed thigh.
"No! Friday!"
Within seconds, my body went numb and my vision blurred. I heard their laughter as I lost consciousness.
---
I woke up with a bucket of cold water splashed on me.
"Wake up, Stark! This isn’t a damn vacation camp." I blinked, looking around. The room was large, dark, and freezing. My blurred vision didn’t help me identify the four men there.
"Come on, I know you’re not a morning person, but try." I looked down. My body was completely naked. The cold metal cuffs on my wrists became painfully obvious as I tried to move. The men all laughed.
"What?" My foggy mind was no help.
"Easy life’s over. You’re nothing here," said one, grabbing my hair violently, forcing a cry of pain from me. More laughter.
"The little slut likes it? You’re gonna have so much fun here."
"With that kind of welcome, it’s hard to believe," I spat.
Their laughter became a constant soundtrack in my life. I didn’t know it yet, but this was the beginning of the worst six months of my life. That day, I was beaten and abused. Every time I started to pass out, they shocked me back to awareness.
---
The next day, I woke up in the same room, with new injuries. Same men. Same confusion. My vision still blurry.
"What do you want? Who are you?" I asked for the twentieth time, but I wasn’t even sure what those words meant anymore.
The door opened for the first time. A blinding white light made me squint. When I looked up, a shorter man with graying hair stepped in, wearing a sinister smile. I studied his face, I felt like I should know him, but couldn’t remember.
"Stark, you don’t know me, but I know you. Who would've thought a genius like you would fall for such a simple trap?" He adjusted his tie and stepped closer. "Steve was really important to you, wasn’t he?" He grabbed my face roughly. "I almost pity you. Even though your father admired a dead super-soldier more than his own son, and Steve only ever saw you as an annoying, reckless colleague. Even though you’re older. Well, at least mentally."
"Who are you?" I whispered. He let go.
"I knew your father, Howard Stark, a long, long time ago. A visionary. Men like him are rare now. It’s a shame."
"Men like him?"
"Yes, men who put duty to country first. That’s why the country’s rotting now," he said, circling the room. "We need people like him, leading, investing in the nation, not distracted by useless emotions like you."
"Those ‘useless emotions’ are the only reason New York still exists."
He whispered something to a soldier, who nodded and left.
"You should’ve left the hero games to those born for it."
"Wanna play hero with me, then?"
"I already won. Or did you forget who’s chained up?" He chuckled. "If your father were alive, he’d be ashamed. He invested so much in you..."
"You don’t know anything about my family. You didn’t know my dad."
"I probably spent more quality time with him than you. We were friends."
"Maybe for you it was quality. Doesn’t mean it was mutual."
Silence fell for the first time in two days.
"Shame we can’t ask him now, isn’t it? The Winter Soldier did a fine job." My fists clenched. "But as your father’s old friend, I can fix this. Your brilliant but broken mind could serve our country well." He pressed my head back with one finger. "Big fan of your weapons. Shame you stopped making them."
"If you plan to hold me captive to make weapons, know it’s been tried. Didn’t end well. Watch the news."
"Don’t worry. Not everyone’s as stupid and useless as your previous captors. This time, you won’t escape. You’ll do everything I want."
My mouth went dry.
"And what exactly do you want?"
"I want your mind. We just need to fix that nasty personality of yours. Soon you’ll be obedient. My finest creation." He tapped my cheek, grinning, then turned. "Show him who’s in charge."
He left, shutting the door.
"Let’s go, princess. Party’s just starting," one of them said, running a hand slowly over my body. My brain went into panic as his hand slid lower.
"You’ll learn to use that mouth for other things."
---
The days dragged. The first month was the worst. Same routine: dragged out of my ‘room’, a metal bed on one side, a notebook and pencil on the other, where I was supposed to sketch weapons. I refused. In return, I got daily waterboarding sessions.
Every day they brought me to a ‘classroom’, each with a different torture. Today: electric chair. They’d show me sounds, images, and videos, shocking me when they wanted me to associate things with pain. Conditioning.
Always the same media in different orders.
A sunny park image? Heart racing. First shock.
Next: Dr. Gerhard Müller, smiling that sick smile. He used to work for SHIELD, but later joined Hydra. I learned the name of one soldier, Friedrich. The worst. No empathy. Sometimes he'd sneak into my cell at night and stroke me. He hasn’t gone further... yet. I once spat in his face. Four days without decent food. The meals? Trash and bugs.
A video of the Avengers in battle, I flinched, shock. A photo of Pepper smiling, shock. Hydra logo, relief. Then one of my suits, terror.
Hours later, I couldn’t breathe. Soaked in sweat. A soldier untied me, dragged me by the arm. Another helped me stand. My legs didn’t work.
---
Three months in. I couldn’t eat solid food. Whether from throat injuries or constant nausea, I don’t know. I sat up when I heard footsteps. Learned the hard way: lying down puts you at a disadvantage.
Gerhard entered with his hands behind his back, then pulled out a blue baby bottle.
"Heard you’re having trouble eating. Thought I’d bring a gift. Be a good boy and finish it. Maybe you’ll get another surprise later."
He handed it to me and left. I opened it. Vanilla-scented milk. Tried drinking from the rim, choked. Coughing fit. Looked at it, disgusted. Closed it. Tried the nipple. Slow flow. Alternated sips and breaks. Somehow, I finished it. Laid down. Waited.
---
Next morning, Gerhard returned with a black blanket covered in colorful stars. I sat up, raising an eyebrow.
"Where’s the bottle?" I handed it over. He shook it. "Very good. Here’s your gift." He handed me the blanket and left.
I gripped the fabric so hard my fingers turned white. Couldn’t resist. Buried my face in it. Since arriving, I hadn’t worn clothes again. The metal bed didn’t help with the cold. Many nights I slept on the floor.
I wrapped the blanket around me, curled up, trying to cover every inch.
---
A week later, Friedrich brought me to the bath room, like every other day. White tiles everywhere. I stood, covering my face. He turned on the hose, ice-cold water stinging.
First and only time I complained? He forced me into a scalding bath. Miraculously, no scars.
After drying me off, he grabbed a diaper. I stared at him, horrified.
"The boss wasn’t happy with your accident yesterday. Put it on without fuss. Your fault." Hard to agree, he denied me the bathroom, then dumped me in an electric session that lasted half a day. I let him diaper me. No choice.
---
In the third or fourth month, before a waterboarding session, I sat, grabbed the notebook, and started sketching a weapon plan. Nothing new, just testing.
My hands shook too much to hold the pen properly.
To my surprise, the mad scientist came instead of soldiers.
"What’s that?" I handed over the notebook. He flipped through it.
"A start. But you can do better. There’s a motion-triggered bomb of yours none of my men could replicate. Make that. If I like it, you’ll get two rewards."
As silly as it was, I felt motivated. Last reward? I cried during shock therapy. Gerhard was thrilled, gave me a brand new pillow.
When I finished the sketches, I set them aside. I knew the cameras watched me, one on the ceiling lamp, one by the doorframe.
Minutes later, the door opened. The old man smiled. My smile faded when Friedrich followed him in.
"May I?" I handed over the notebook. He hummed in approval. "Second reward comes if this works." I glared. He chuckled. "Be patient. If you’re not trying to trick me, I’ll bring your prize in a week." He tore out the pages, folded them, pocketed them. Then handed Friedrich a syringe.
"Give him his reward." He left. Friedrich smiled.
"Sit on the bed, princess." I obeyed slowly. He pulled a vial from his pocket. Carefully filled the syringe.
"A little gift from the doc. For your pain." The needle plunged into my arm. Cold fluid burned my veins.
As the door closed, I lay down and pulled the blanket over my face. Finally, after weeks of nightmares and constant pain, I slept through the night.
---
As promised, a week later one of the soldiers injected more of the drug. Since then, I’ve spent every day drawing and drafting inventions.
---
After Friedrich left my room, after another one of his disgusting sessions, I collapsed on the floor, screaming. Slammed my face against the bed, blood dripping from my forehead to the floor. Furious, I decided: I’d dedicate every second to escaping. Even if they killed me trying.
---
I was feeling inspired and wrote three and a half chapters of this new story in just four days. I hope you enjoy it.
Kudos and comments motivate me to keep posting regularly. I love constructive criticism <3.