The quinjet’s engines whined low as it descended through a blanket of gray clouds, the landscape below coming into view in sharp, bleak detail. Rusted fencing. Collapsed watchtowers. A place long forgotten—at least, that’s what it was supposed to be.

You stood near the ramp, arms crossed tightly over your chest, eyes locked on the compound below. Even from the air, you recognized the layout. The angles of the buildings. The positioning of the perimeter. Hydra never really changed their designs—they didn’t have to. Fear worked just as well in familiar shapes.

Behind you, Natasha leaned casually against the wall, though her sharp gaze flicked between you and the ground below. “You okay?” she asked quietly.

You didn’t answer right away.

“I’ve been worse.”

A metal clank echoed as Bucky shifted near the exit, his posture rigid, jaw tight. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the facility since it came into view. You didn’t need to ask—you knew. He recognized it too.

Steve stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on Bucky’s shoulder before glancing at you. “We go in together. No one splits off.”

You gave a small nod, though your focus never wavered.

The quinjet touched down with a controlled jolt. The ramp lowered slowly, revealing a group already waiting in the open clearing beyond the broken gates.

Armed. Alert. Watching.

Task Force 141.

At the front stood a tall man in a skull-patterned mask—Ghost. Beside him, a broad-shouldered captain with a mohawk—Soap—and a calm, commanding presence just behind them: Price, cigar in hand despite the situation. Their eyes tracked your team as you stepped off the jet.

Price was the first to speak. “Didn’t expect them to send the Avengers themselves.”

Steve approached, offering a firm handshake. “If Hydra’s involved, we take it seriously.”

Price nodded once, then his gaze shifted—brief, assessing—landing on you and Bucky.

“You two look like you’ve seen this place before.”

There was a beat of silence.

Bucky stepped forward slightly, voice low. “We have.”

Your jaw tightened. “We were held in a compound just like this.”

Soap glanced between you both, expression sharpening. “So this isn’t just another abandoned site.”

“No,” you said flatly. “It’s never just abandoned with them.”

Ghost tilted his head slightly, studying you. “You think it’s active?”

You met his gaze without hesitation. “I think Hydra doesn’t leave ghosts behind unless they’re useful.”

A faint smirk tugged at Natasha’s lips behind you. “And we’re very good at finding what they try to hide.”

Price exhaled slowly, flicking ash from his cigar. “Alright then. We’ve got movement inside—heat signatures, but nothing consistent. Could be automated. Could be worse.”

Steve looked at the team, then back at 141. “We clear it together.”

There was a brief pause—then Price gave a decisive nod. “141, fall in.”

As the teams began to move toward the compound, Bucky’s hand brushed yours for just a second—barely noticeable to anyone else.

But you felt it.

Grounding. Familiar.

Partners. Survivors.

And as the rusted doors of the Hydra facility loomed closer, something cold settled in your chest.

Because places like this didn’t just hold memories.

They held secrets.

And Hydra never kept anything without a reason.