White Wolf and Arctic Fox

Prologue

I've been in this cold cell for three weeks since T'Challa visited to tell me about my brother. Early on, they shaved my head completely, trying to take away my identity. Then, they took away sound. Made my cell completely soundproof. Though I know the others are there, and I can see them, I can't hear anything. If I try to make my own noise, such as humming a tune or whistling, I am shocked. Next, they took away extraneous movement. If I try to walk around, or entertain myself in any way, I am shocked. Finally, they stopped letting me sleep for any longer than a half hour at a time. Any longer, and I am shocked.

So here I stay, huddled in the corner of my cold cell, unhearing, unmoving, trying to stay awake and sane at the same time. I've seen things. Hallucinations of my brother as the Winter Soldier, and Mr. Killicks trying to get to me. I scream, and ask for help, but am shocked instead.

Bland food and water come through a small door in the back of the cell every now and then. No human contact is allowed, except for the silent man who re-shaves my head at the first sign of stubble. When I am finished, if I can force myself to eat, I push the empty water bottle and plastic plate back through, and the door shuts and locks. Occasionally, there would be a syringe filled with lime green liquid with the food. I would be shocked until I injected myself with it. The liquid caused nightmarish hallucinations, far worse than the ones from lack of sleep.

At first, Clint, Wanda, Sam, and Scott would occasionally make funny faces at me, or Clint would attempt charades, to make me feel better. But I would be shocked as a warning for them to stop.

Then one day, I see the others looking around nervously as though they hear something unusual. I lean forward, hesitant to move forward for a better view, and am shocked again. I flinch and retreat back to my spot, knees tight to my chest.

Moments later, all the cell doors slide open. We stare at each other in confusion and wonder, until a small group enters the holding area.

Steve, Natasha, and Vision, all in their respective uniforms.

The others rush out of their cells, but I know better than to move. I stay tightly curled in my corner, not daring to speak as Steve hesitantly steps towards me.

"Ree?" he asks, and I cringe at the sound. Wanda is crying into Vision's chest, and her sobs echo against my eardrums, Steve's concerned voice only adding to the noise.

The sudden volume is too much, and I have to cover my ears. But I can still hear, with my cat-like senses, as Clint tries to explain.

"As far as I could overhear, Ross heard about Hydra's expiraments on her in the 40s, and wanted to make sure she wasn't like her brother, by keeping her unstable," Clint is saying. "She's been deprived of identity, taste, sleep, human contact, and sound, been drugged, and electrocuted for doing anything wrong."

"Psychological torture," Natasha concludes, her eyes sorrowful. "That's illegal in most civilized countries."

"Yeah, well, no one cares what happens in international waters," Clint finishes.

As the others try their best to stay quiet, Steve slowly approaches me, kneeling when he reaches me. Gently, he tugs my hands away from my ears, and I flinch at his touch.

"Ree, it's me, Steve," he whispers, eyes watery. "I'm here to get you out. No one here is going to hurt you."

Slowly, I pull a hand from his grasp and place it against the collar at my throat, worried I will be shocked again at any moment.

Steve understands, and motions Natasha forward. She takes a Bobby pin and a paper clip, and gets to work on the collar. Moments later, it opens with a soft click.

"Th-thank you," I manage, my voice quiet and hoarse from disuse.

Natasha smiles and backs away.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Steve says softly, tugging on my hand.

Shaking, I slowly get to my feet, leaning on Steve. We're only just walking out when an alarm starts blaring, seeming to shatter my eardrums. With a cry, I fling myself back into my corner, slamming my hands over my ears as I rock back and forth, trying in vain to comfort myself.

Steve let's out a curse and scoops me into his arms. I shake and cry against him, wanting to disappear. As Vision takes out any guard trying to stop us, Natasha leads the way to an empty speedboat docked outside the ocean prison. We make it out, with Natasha steering us into the distance. In the back of the boat, Steve holds me in his lap, rubbing my back and whispering to me as I continue to cover my ears and whimper against his chest.

The stress, on top of my already unstable mental state is too much.