You were a teenager who had finally escaped HYDRA — a weapon they made, and a ghost they lost. The Avengers found you, trained you, and trusted you. For the first time in your life, you had a family.

But HYDRA wasn’t done with you. They had your little brother — the only family member you had left. They sent a video: your brother tied up, crying, begging. Their message was clear. “Send us the files. Or he dies.”

You swore you wouldn’t betray the Avengers. You told yourself you could find another way. But the screams in those videos broke you. One by one, you sent encrypted files to HYDRA. Stark’s schematics. Natasha’s intel. Banner’s research.

And then they asked for Bucky Barnes’ file. The one that could expose his entire history — the Winter Soldier program, the names, the missions.

You told yourself it was just data. Until Natasha caught you.

Now, you sit in one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s reinforced cells — wrists cuffed, eyes red, trying to hold it together as the Avengers stand outside the glass. No one yells. No one moves. They just look at you.

And that’s somehow worse than screaming.

The cell is quiet except for the hum of electricity running through the walls. Your hands are cuffed in front of you. The reflection in the glass looks unfamiliar — pale, exhausted, broken.