The Mimic

119

Y/n wasn't even sure how to react. She felt so betrayed, so stupid, and so upset.

She had been smiling at the sound of Bruce's voice. She had thought that the team were there to break her out. But they weren't, and now she just looked like an idiot. Every good memory with the team seemed to flow through her mind as she sat on the edge of the bed, a bittersweet feeling washing over her. Had it all been a lie? Had the team never fully trusted her? They were the ones to save her from Hydra, she trusted them with her life - but they didn't seem to feel the same.

Y/n felt as if she'd just come full circle. When the team saved her, they put her in a cell in the compound. And now here she was, imprisoned in a cell by the team she thought she could trust. Except for the times where Hydra sent her out to kill, y/n had spent her whole life in empty rooms and cells. So to be in a cell so similar to that felt terrifying. 

Every breath caused her chest to tighten, creating a horrifying feeling of suffocation. Despite the large cell, y/n felt extremely claustrophobic. Almost as if the walls were closing in on her - something that she hadn't felt ever since she was broken out of Hydra. She was alone. Completely alone. Nobody to distract her from her thoughts. Nobody to talk to except Bruce, but he didn't seem to be in the mood for meaningful conversations. 

Y/n was nothing but a lab rat and an asset to be trained. Again.

Y/n shook her head over and over, setting her head in her hands to stop Bruce from seeing the tears begin to fall. Her whole body was tense, almost caving in on itself as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Bruce I-" Y/n begun, gasping in a deep, shaky breath. She felt lightheaded, like she couldn't get enough air in her lungs. Her knee bounced anxiously, causing her the rest of her body to shake. "I can't be in here." She breathed out, lifting her head up to look in the mirror. Her face had fallen into one of stress and fear. Every breath was shakier and shorter than the last as the overwhelming feeling of suffocation continued to grow. 

This wasn't the reaction that Bruce expected. Bruce had expected anger and a lot of yelling, but that didn't seem to be the case. That didn't seem to be the case at all. Y/n looked as if she was in the midst of a panic attack. She was quiet, shaky, and closed in on herself. He'd never seen y/n like this before. Yes, he'd seen her freaked out after a nightmare, but nothing to this level.

Y/n's mind had completely taken over. Almost all of her worst memories included being trapped in a room or a cell. From the countless days of mimicking dying test subjects, to the 'lessons' that the man in the suit would teach her. Hell, she had even been locked in the apartment when her parents were killed. It was all too much. 

It almost felt as if there was no air in the room, like she was slowly choking with every breath. Y/n felt completely trapped. Right when she finally had her freedom, it had been ripped away from her. She felt like a child again - vulnerable and scared. She thought that her childhood naivety had disappeared long ago, yet she still allowed herself to trust the team. "Bruce I can't-" Y/n took in another breath, her voice wavering as she stared at the mirror. She stood up as the memories and fear begun to worsen, beginning to glance around for any sign of a door. But there didn't seem to be one. It blended into the wall far too well. Which of course just set y/n off even more. "I can't be in this cell. I need to get out. I need some air, please." She begged desperately, rubbing her hands over her face. 

"You know I can't do that, y/n." Bruce sighed. He watched her with careful eyes as she stood up. A pang of guilt him as he saw the look on her face, but he quickly pushed it to the side. As much as he hated it, observing y/n was his job now. He had a notepad and a pen in front of him, scribbling down as many notes as possible. The unstableness couldn't be just a physical thing. She'd been through far too much. But he'd never seen a reaction this bad from her before. 

Tears finally begun to pour as Bruce said no. She didn't expect any less from him, but it just made the feeling of suffocation even worse. It just brought back the horrible times where she'd beg for the man in the suit to open the door, and he never would. Never. 

"Please!" Y/n yelled, her voice wobbling terribly. There was no anger there, no frustration. Just pure fear and desperation. "I can't be in here. I can't." She cried out, hiccupping with every breath. Y/n made her way toward the mirror, resting her hands on the top of her head out of stress. She just hoped that she was actually looking at Bruce. "I can't do it. I can't be on my own in here." She begged through the tears. Everything felt as if it was closing in on her. Even the collar of her shirt felt as if it was strangling her. She had to get out. She had to get some air.

"Yes you can, y/n." Bruce said seriously, refusing to look up when y/n got closer to thee two-way mirror. He felt terrible, he didn't want to be hit with even more guilt. He was only doing what was best for y/n. "You can't leave that cell. You're too unstable. It's not safe-"

"It's not safe for me in here!" Y/n interrupted, pacing away from the two-way mirror as she put her head in her hands. "You don't understand! I can hear him!" She yelled, pointing toward her forehead. It was obvious to her that she was talking about the man in the suit, but probably not to Bruce. She very rarely talked about him, and for a good reason. She didn't want to think about him - yet even in death he plagues her every waking hour. "He's constantly in my head! Constantly reminding me of things I want to forget! I can't be alone in here, Bruce! I can't do it! If I had Bucky-" Y/n's shouting suddenly stopped at the mention of Bucky. Almost as if she had just realised something.

They never got to say goodbye.