She tried to phase, and the sound came back.

Not like a siren. Not even audible to him. But the second her molecules shimmered—the second that faint glow sparked at the edges of her arms— she screamed.

Bucky’s heart jumped like a gunshot had gone off. “Stop—stop, don’t try—!”

She was already curled in on herself, knees tight to her chest, fingers clawing at her ears.

Purple. It was leaking again. Not blood. Something else. Thick. Jelly-like. Streaming from her ears like her head was cracking open.

The glow faded from her hands. The sound stopped.

Dead silence.

She shuddered. Her chest rose once. Shallow. Then again. Then she spoke, voice shaking:

“It only happens when I… when I start to phase.”

Bucky crouched beside her. His own restraints—worn half through from earlier—clanked uselessly behind him.

“I know,” he said. Gently. “It’s a deterrent. They wired this room to punish you. Keep you from escaping.”

She nodded faintly. Tears welled, but they couldn’t even fall properly—her ducts were flooded with violet.

“I think it ruptured something. I can’t hear you right. You sound—underwater.”

He didn’t swear. He wanted to. But he couldn’t—because if he lost his calm now, she would.

Instead, he looked up. Scanned the ceiling. The walls. The corner glass, where her parents watched behind mirrored pane like judges.

They wouldn’t open it. Not unless the experiment was over. And it would be over—soon. He’d seen the timer in the corner. Thirty minutes. No food. No water. No ventilation.

They were testing something. Probably how much phasing she could do before she hemorrhaged.

He turned back to her.

“You’re the only one who can get us out of here,” he said low. “I need you to phase. Just once. Through that wall.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. It’ll happen again.”

“It will,” he agreed. “But if you don’t, we die here. Together.”

Her breathing hitched.

God, she was so young. Face pale. Lips trembling. Only fifteen, and they’d turned her into a ticking weapon.

“I’m scared,” she whispered. Her voice was slurred now. Her equilibrium was shot. “I can feel my ears filling up again. I don’t wanna bleed anymore…”

He cupped her cheek. Carefully. Avoided the burn marks. “I’ll hold onto you. I’ll take all your weight. You just need to reach—just your hand. Just enough to breach the field.”

“It hurts,” she whimpered. “No one ever said it would hurt this much.”

“I know,” he said. And he meant it. Because he remembered what it was like to wake up in a lab, screaming in a language you forgot you spoke, while white coats wrote down what broke you fastest.

She deserved better. But right now, she needed to survive.

He placed her hand on his chest. “You trust me?”

Her fingers twitched. Barely. “Yes.”

He nodded. Swallowed down the dread clawing up his throat.

“Then on three, we do it. One—”

The glow started. Her fingers shimmered. The sound screamed back into existence.

She howled. Arching. Purple gushed from her ears—her eardrum fully ruptured this time, leaking down her jaw in bubbling trails.

“—Two—”

Bucky grabbed her around the waist.

Her glow grew brighter. Her phase aura flared.

She was shaking. Convulsing. Her eyes rolled. The air stank of ozone and burning nerves.

But the wall behind them flickered.

Just for a second.

“—Three!”

He shoved forward.

And in one, horrible moment—they passed through.

The sound stopped.

She collapsed instantly on the other side, blood and goo pouring from her nose, ears, mouth. The glow guttered.

But she was breathing.

Barely.

Bucky dropped to the floor beside her, half-dragging, half-cradling her.

The alarm was already sounding behind them. Doors unlocking. Screams. Chaos.

But none of that mattered.

Because she opened her eyes—and whispered, brokenly:

“It… hurts…” He pulled her closer, hand steady against her flickering chest. “I know, kid. I know. But you did it. You got us out.”

She blinked. Slow. “Don’t make me do it again…”

His voice cracked, low and raw:

“Never again.”