A Birdie Lost in Time | Bucky Barnes

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The doctor had been lucky. The three chemical compounds he'd tried on her all showed success—but the third had enough promise that they started the girl on regular injections immediately.

It took a few months, and in that time, she had become increasingly aware of the world around her, though they didn't let her slip into her old habits. Behavioral conditioning is what the doctors called it; re-teaching the basics—or at least the basics that the Russian wanted her to know.

Obedience, loyalty, subservience, silence.

Relatively easy considering she was a shell of a person thanks to the electricity frying her brain. One silver lining.

By the third month on the compound, she proved herself an asset, spurring more resources funnelled to the Russian and his pet.

The chemicals that they pumped into her kept her mind sharp; able to do quick calculations, answer riddles, make split decisions, but they inhibited the areas necessary for control, personal motivation—even fear.

She was yet another scientific marvel that Hydra turned out, but there were dozens of recruits at their facility alone who didn't need that conditioning. Who were already loyal and subservient.

The only thing that made her special was her knowledge of how to use the suit that had accompanied her to Siberia.

Although, no matter what the engineers tried, they couldn't understand how it worked. How, as Agent Richardson had told the Russian, it had appeared on the girl in less time than it took to blink. They didn't bother asking her—a mistake on their part, when she would have explained that it could have been reprogrammed to work for any of them, along with the fact that it was made of nano-bots.. Although considering it was common knowledge that the doctors had made some type of mistake during shock therapy, they probably wouldn't have listened to her anyways.

But they hadn't even considered asking, and the Russian paid little mind to the tinkering's in the bowels of the Siberian facility—he was too occupied with perfecting the girl to bother with their research.

So instead, they sought information from more difficult places; Richardson.

It was a good thing that the agent was still stationed at Camp Lehigh, because it meant he could steal information. Over the months that they'd been working on the girl, Richardson was tasked with collecting information on the suit she claimed Pym had, along with any other research that may be helpful.

He'd had trouble; Pym's lab was filled with research, but nothing about a suit—other than a gaudy helmet that looked more like a kids Halloween costume than anything else. There were no traces of schematics or programs to be seen—that is until the mission in February of 1971 that went slightly wrong. The details around what happened, Richardson didn't know, but Hank had ran from his office in a storm, files and loose leaf papers tucked poorly between his arm and his suit case.

One file, by chance, had fallen from the stack. One file, that by sheer luck, happened to have everything Richardson needed to know. He copied the papers hastily, then dropped them just inside the door of Hanks lab, allowing the papers to scatter before re-locking the door.

Pym, who'd rushed back to his office later, was none the wiser, only frustrated with himself for dropping such an important file.

That file though, did little to make sense of the girl's suit. They couldn't even get the compartments on the utility belt to open, let alone understand how it turned on or even shrunk.

They knew they needed the haughtily named Pym Particles, but they argued that suit should still react to stimulus. So, they started their own research into Quantum physics, testing and growing their knowledge.