The ghosts we hide (Winter Soldier x OC)

Seventeen

I stare around the room silently, anxiety starting to burn in my stomach at the sight before me. Nausea builds at the back of my throat.

The usually big lab now looks cramped, a huge silver machine taking up most of the space. A padded silver chair sits in the middle of it all, decorated in all kinds of wires. The arms of the chair have two cuffs on each side, with a multitude of monitors attached to them. They sit open and empty at the moment, like little rib cages. My stomach churns at the thought of the shackle like bands, but that's not the worst part.

At the head of the chair is a huge dome, sprouting millions of cables into a metal panel above it. Two silver rectangles hang under the front of the dish, acting as blinkers, presumably to keep the subject blind to everything but the memory they're supposed to be thinking of.

I feel sick.

"You can still back out of this." Steve says from beside me, noticing my paling face.

I look up at him, seriously considering his offer.

My mind flashes with images of chains and blood and lifeless eyes, the face of that little boy in the power plant and the charred bones at the hospital in Washington. Clenching my jaw, I allow the usual steel to flow through my veins, hardening my shaking muscles and attempting to slow my racing heart.

The key word is attempting.

"It's fine." I mutter, not trusting myself to talk any louder.

I turn to Dr. Banner, who clicks away at one of the three computer monitors present in the room. The main screen is about the size of a normal TV, hanging on the wall beside the chair. I try not to think about how much the set up resembles a torture room in Hydra.

"You ready for me yet Bruce?" I ask tentatively, hands clenching and unclenching. The scientist spins round, taking off his glasses and tucking them into his white lab coat pocket.

"Uh yes, yes. If you'd like to have a seat." He says, looking mildly flustered. He sends me what I presume is supposed to be a reassuring smile before turning back to setting up the computer.

I try to take deep breaths, slowly working up the courage to sit down in the chair. I jolt as a large hand grasps mine, squeezing it tightly.

"I'll be here the whole time." Steve mumbles, eyes concerned, before he lets go and turns away to speak to Tony.

The fact that they're all acting like I'm about to die really isn't helping to put me at ease. I do feel slightly better knowing that Steve will be in the room though. I trust him to pull me out if something goes wrong.

Steeling myself, I slip gently into the chair. While the padding should be comfortable, the whole situation makes it impossible for me to be at ease and I fidget, constantly repositioning my legs or arms or head. I don't sit fully back in the seat, because that would mean being under the god awful dome for longer than necessary. Instead, I watch as Steve and Tony have a quiet conversation, both of them tense, eyes hard.

Very reassuring.

"Ok Nyx."

My attention is dragged away as Bruce turns to me, looking like an actual doctor as he perches on his spinning chair, features arranged in a suitably blank expression.

"If you would just lie back for me." He instructs, voice now calm.

I do as he says, my heartbeat racing even harder as I shuffle back and under the helmet. For a second my vision is completely obscured by the blinkers and I start to panic slightly, but then Bruce flicks them up onto the dome, allowing me to see again.