Vengeance wasn't really something that Steve actively participated in. Sure, he'd have moments where he wanted to curse the world for the straw he'd been drawn, but he'd never really been an eye-for-an-eye kind of guy.

But when Tony stepped into the gym with Sam trailing after him and Bucky not far behind, he had a gut feeling that he knew what they were going to say before the words were even spoken.

"Where?"

"Not too far from your last encounter," Tony replied, his arms crossing after motioning for Sam to pass the tablet across to the old soldier. Steve took it without hesitation, stepping back from the punching bag and flicking through the information with Bucky looking over his shoulder.

"When?"

"Now," Sam replied, "in and out, covert."

"Who knows?" Steve asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at the other three men who clearly had been talking about this before deciding to come to him too.

"Isaac found the location. Clint's going to provide the distraction," Bucky replied, his voice colder than they'd grown to hearing it. It was clear that this whole situation was bringing up bad memories for him. "Wanda already knows too, and Bruce helped Isaac."

"I had to tell the kid," Tony added, alluding to the younger Avenger. "I usually meet with Peter on Tuesdays and he connected the dots pretty quickly once he saw Isaac's face this morning..."

Steve nodded, his jaw clenching as he took in all of the information. The weight of what they were about to do was sitting heavy on his shoulders, and a faint voice at the back of his head was telling him that this wasn't what Avery wanted - but he knew fine well it was. If any of them had gone through what they figured she had, he knew she'd burn the world down. 

He handed the tablet back to Tony, nodding as he pulled at the sweaty hand wraps around his fists, already falling into step with the other three men as they headed towards the gear stores.

"Alright," he muttered, voice low and resolute. "Let's gear up and move out. We end this today."

They got ready in silence.

Steve reached for his shield, the familiar weight both comforting and ominous as the metal glinted in the fluorescent lighting. As he strapped it to his back, he just prayed that this went as easily as they hoped.

The team moved swiftly, finishing gearing up in silence. The usual banter between them all was absent, replaced by a tense focus. As they board the quinjet, Steve caught Bucky's eye.

The tension in Bucky's gaze mirrored Steve's own emotions. They'd been through countless missions together, but this one felt different. Personal.

"Buck," he started, but Bucky just shook his head.

"Don't," he muttered quietly. "Let's just get it done."

"ETA 30 minutes," Tony called from the cockpit, his voice uncharacteristically somber.

The flight was eerily quiet, each team member lost in their own thoughts. Steve found himself replaying memories of Avery - her laugh, her fierce determination in battle, the way she'd roll her eyes at his outdated references. The thought of her suffering at the hands of Hydra made his blood boil.

A darker part of his head hoped it had been quick - that she hadn't suffered.

One look at Bucky's reaction told him that it wouldn't have been likely.

As they neared the drop zone, Steve broke the silence. 

"Remember," he says, his voice carrying the authority of the leadership that was thrust upon him all those years ago, "this is about justice, not power. We do this right, or we don't do it at all."

"Agreed," Tony replied, handing the controls over to Sam as he turned to pick up his nanotech bracelets that contained his suit. "We find the Osprey, we end the fucker, and we get out. For Avery."

"For Avery," the others echoed, a grim determination settling over the group.

The quinjet touched down silently in a small clearing, the team disembarking with practiced efficiency. The facility loomed before them, a nondescript concrete structure nestled in the dense forest. Steve signaled for them to move forward, his shield at the ready.

Tony's nanotech suit formed around him, the faceplate sliding into place as he scanned for heat signatures.

"Two guards inside," he whispered. "Corridor leads deeper underground."

Bucky took point, his enhanced senses on high alert. The metal of his arm shone dully in the filtered sunlight through the trees above, a stark reminder to Steve of the horrors Hydra had been capable of inflicting on those that were alive. Steve watched his friend's back for a moment, noting the rigid set of his shoulders. Just from the way his shoulders are tensed up more than normal, Steve could tell that Bucky was reliving his own trauma with every step they took.

Had they tried to do to Avery what they did to Bucky? Had she resisted their attempts to turn her? Or had they just tortured her and then brought in the Osprey when she didn't give her team up?

They'd probably never know.

They moved as one, years of training and shared combat experience evident in their fluid motions. The guards were neutralised swiftly and silently, their bodies carefully hidden to avoid raising alarms.

The team descended into the bowels of the facility, the air growing thick with the acrid smell of chemicals and the metallic tang of blood. Something wasn't right - the lack of security and guard presence was sending warning signs off in the Captain's head. Steve's stomach churned, but he pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the mission at hand.

As they reached a reinforced door, Tony's scanners picked up a lone figure within.

"This is it," he murmured, his voice tight with anticipation. "The Osprey's in there."

Steve met each of their eyes in turn, seeing his own grim resolve reflected back at him. "Remember, we do this quick and clean. No unnecessary risks."

Bucky nodded, his metal arm whirring softly as he readied his weapon. Tony's repulsers hummed to life, casting an eerie blue glow in the dim corridor. Sam steadied the gun in his hands, his wings clipped back into the back of his suit.

With a sharp nod, Steve signalled for Tony to breach the door. The metal gave way with a thunderous crash, and they surged forward, weapons raised and ready for a fight.

But as the dust settled, they found themselves facing an unexpected sight. The room was stark and clinical, bathed in harsh fluorescent light. In the centre stood a lone figure, her back to them, long dark braids cascading down her back.

The figure turned slowly, revealing a face they all knew so well, yet somehow different. The warm brown eyes were now cold, devoid of the warmth and recognition they had once held. Her stance was rigid, poised for combat. Various scars littered her hands and arms, and Steve was sure there were more under her combat gear.

Steve's heart leapt into his throat. "Avery?" he breathed, barely audible.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, faster than they could react, Avery - or was it the Osprey? - was in motion. She launched herself at Bucky, her movements fluid and lethal. Steve watched in horror as his best friend barely managed to deflect a blow that would have crushed his windpipe, even with his metal arm reflexes.

Steve found himself on the defensive, his shield ringing with the force of her blows. He could see the others struggling to contain her without causing harm. Avery moved with an almost insane speed and precision that he knew she hadn't had the last time they'd seen each other, her attacks a blur of efficiency. Her entire fighting was different - similar but much more deadly.

"She doesn't remember us," Tony yelled to the others, his voice tight with realisation as he held back from using any of his suit weapons on her. "They've wiped her, like they did with Barnes."

Steve's mind raced. This was their worst fear realised. He had to make a choice - subdue Avery or let her potentially kill one of them. Killing the Osprey wasn't ever going to be an option for them now.

"Non-lethal takedown," he ordered, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his chest. "We're not leaving without her."

As they fought, Steve couldn't help but marvel at her skill. She had always been a formidable fighter, but this was something else entirely. Hydra had turned her into a weapon, honed to deadly perfection.

She was keeping up with the four men and their weapons and enhancements without even as much as breaking a sweat. The battle raged on, neither side gaining the upper hand. Steve knew they couldn't keep this up forever. They needed to end this, and fast.

"Avery, please!" Steve called out, desperately trying to reach her. "We're your friends. We're here to help you!"

But his words seemed to have no effect. The Osprey's eyes remained cold and focused, her attacks relentless. She dodged Sam's attempt to restrain her, using his momentum to throw him into Tony, sending them both crashing into the wall.

Bucky, his face a mask of pain and determination, managed to get behind her.

"I'm sorry, doll," he whispered, before attempting to lock her in a chokehold, his metal fist contracting around her neck as Steve steadied himself. 

For a moment, it seemed to work. Then, with inhuman strength, she broke free, flipping Bucky over her shoulder. He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him for the first time in a long time.

She was fighting to kill, and they were pulling their punches.

Steve saw his opening. As the Osprey turned to face him, he threw his shield. Not at her, but at the wall behind her. It ricocheted off the concrete, careening back towards them. In the split second she was distracted, Steve lunged forward.

He tackled her to the ground, using his body weight to pin her down. She thrashed violently, her eyes wild with fury. Steve held on, his heart breaking at the lack of recognition in her gaze.

She headbutted him hard, stars exploding in Steve's vision. His grip loosened just enough for her to break free. She was on her feet in an instant, a knife materialising in her hand from a pocket on her belt.

"Steve, look out!" Sam yelled, struggling to his feet as Tony and his Iron Man suit stood up from their con-caved dent in the wall.

The Osprey lunged, the blade arcing towards Steve's throat. Time seemed to slow. Steve knew he should move, should defend himself, but he couldn't. Not against her. He closed his eyes, bracing for the impact as he snapped his hand with the shield back up.

A metallic clang rang out. Steve's eyes flew open to see Bucky standing between them, his metal arm deflecting the knife before it even had the chance to hit the shield. The blade clattered to the floor.

With lightning speed, Bucky seized the moment of the Osprey's surprise, wrapping his flesh arm around her waist and using his metal one to trap her arms. She thrashed wildly, her legs kicking out as she tried to break free.

"Now, Stark!" Bucky shouted, his voice strained with the effort of holding her.

Tony surged forward, one of the fingers on his suit opening up to reveal a small needle that he stabbed into her neck. 

The Osprey's struggles intensified for a moment, her eyes wide with fury and something else - was it fear? Then, slowly, her movements began to weaken. Her eyelids fluttered, fighting against the drug's effects.

"It's okay," Steve said softly, moving forward and cupping her face with his free hand. "You're safe now. We've got you."

The silence that followed was deafening. Bucky carefully lowered her to the ground, his face a mask of pain and regret. Tony's faceplate retracted, revealing a grim expression as he surveyed the damage around them. Sam leaned against the wall, catching his breath.

"Is everyone okay?" Steve asked, his eyes never leaving Avery's unconscious form.

There were murmurs of assent from the team. They were battered and bruised, but alive. Steve knelt beside Avery, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. She looked so peaceful now, a stark contrast to the lethal fighter they had just faced.

"We need to move," Tony said, his voice uncharacteristically subdued.

Steve nodded, carefully gathering Avery in his arms. She felt lighter than he remembered, and he could feel the raised edges of scars through her tactical gear. His jaw clenched, imagining what she must have endured.

"Let's go home," he said, his voice thick with emotion. 

As they made their way back to the quinjet, Steve couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. They had Avery back, but at what cost?

And how the hell were they going to explain this to the rest of the team - to Isaac and Nat?  

_____

"You've got to be shitting me."

"Nope," Clint said, five hours after Steve and the others had returned with Avery. He crossed his arms as he leaned against the desk, his eyes trained on the girl sitting handcuffed to the interrogation room table. "Banner already ran the DNA tests - all checks out. That's Avery Winters through and through, with a little bit of something else in her system that he's still trying to figure out. Steve said she put up a good fight."

"Motherfucker," Fury breathed, standing beside Clint as he stared through the one way window, a rare occasion that his face portrayed the disbelief that he felt inside. He looked to his right for a second, almost as if he was checking to see if Maria was seeing the same thing as him. "I'll be damned."

The silence in the observation room was thick with tension as Fury and Clint continued to watch Avery through the one-way glass. She sat motionless, her eyes fixed on a point on the table, seemingly either absolutely unaware of the turmoil her presence was causing - or uninterested. Clint guessed it would likely be the later.

Maria's lips tightened into a thin line as she observed the young woman through the glass.

"It's her alright," she confirmed, her voice barely above a whisper. "But she's... different."

"Brainwashed, most likely. Classic Hydra move."

Fury pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly.

"We need to tread carefully here. If she's been compromised, we could be dealing with a ticking time bomb," Maria continued, her brain running through how they'd logistically move on with this - not that any of this seemed logical in the slightest.

"She's been gone for a thousand days - I think that it's sure as hell safe to say she's compromised," Fury replied, ignoring Maria's eye roll.

"One thousand, one hundred and two days - to be exact," Isaac muttered, the three casting him a glance. He had been brooding in the corner of the room in silence since they'd brought her in last night. "One thousand, one hundred and two days of not knowing if truly she was alive or dead. And now..."

Fury turned to face him, his expression softening slightly. "I know this is difficult, Winters. But we need to focus on the present. What can you tell us about her current state?"

Isaac swallowed hard, pushing his glasses up his nose as he stepped closer to the window.

"Physically, she appears unharmed. But her posture, her demeanor... it's all wrong. The Avery I knew was always in motion, always had a sarcastic comment ready. This..." He gestured helplessly at the still figure in the interrogation room. "This isn't her."

"We need to find out what they did to her," Clint said, his jaw clenching. "And more importantly, why they let her go now."

Maria nodded in agreement. "We should start with a cognitive evaluation. Maybe we can trigger some memories, find out how much of the old Avery is still in there."

As they discussed their next steps, a slight movement caught their attention. Avery had shifted in her chair, her gaze now fixed directly on the mirror. Though she couldn't see them, her intense stare seemed to pierce right through the glass, sending a chill down Isaac's spine.

There was nothing in her eyes that reminded him of who she had been.

Avery's gaze remained fixed on the mirror, her eyes cold and unblinking. The room fell silent as they all stared back, unsettled by her sudden focus. Everyone watched, waiting to see if she would make another move. Seconds ticked by, stretching into minutes.

When she spoke, her voice was calm and cold.

"If you're going to interrogate me, get on with it."

Clint exchanged a glance with Fury, who gave a slight nod. Taking a deep breath, Clint moved towards the door.

"Wait," Isaac blurted out. "Let me talk to her. Maybe I can-"

"Not yet," Fury cut him off firmly. "We need to assess the situation first. Barton, you're up."

Clint nodded, his expression grim as he headed for the door. As he left, Isaac called out, his voice cracking slightly, "Clint... please. Remember it's still her in there. Somewhere."

The archer paused, looking back at the younger man with a mix of sympathy and determination.

"I'll do my best, kid."

 Clint entered the interrogation room, his footsteps echoing in the stark space. Avery's eyes flicked to him briefly before returning to their fixed point on the table. He pulled out the chair across from her and sat down, studying her carefully. Avery's eyes tracked his movement, her expression unchanging as he took a seat across from her.

He'd done this a thousand times before.

"Hello," he said, keeping his tone neutral. "Do you know who I am?"

She regarded him coolly, her gaze unwavering. "You're Clint Barton. Codename Hawkeye. Expert marksman, former SHIELD agent, now an Avenger."

Clint nodded, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest.

"That's right. And do you remember how you know that?"

"It's in your file," she replied flatly. "Along with your weaknesses, preferred weapons, and known associates."

The hope dimmed as quickly as it had appeared. 

Clint leaned back in his chair, maintaining eye contact with Avery. "I see. And what about your own file? What does it say about you?"

"You know I won't answer that," Avery replied, her tone clipped.

"Fair enough," Clint conceded. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Did it tell you who you really are, Avery?"

"I'm not Avery," she replied without hesitation.

"Who are you, then?"

Silence.

"That's not a name, Avery."

For the first time, a hint of emotion crept into her voice - irritation. 

"I don't know who the fuck Avery is."

Behind the glass, Isaac's fists clenched at his sides. Fury placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. Clint leaned forward, his voice low and intense - he had her right where he wanted her now.

"You do know her. She's you. Avery Winters. You grew up in Chicago, joined SHIELD when you were 19 with your brother Isaac. I helped to train you myself."

Avery's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, but she remained silent. Clint pressed on, his voice gentle yet insistent.

"You have a scar on your left knee from when you fell out of a tree when you were eight. You're allergic to strawberries. Your favourite colour is green, but you always said blue looked better on you."

He paused, searching her face for any flicker of recognition. Avery's expression remained impassive, her gaze steady and cold. The only sign of her discomfort was a slight tightening of her jaw.

"Remember that mission in Dubrovnik? We were pinned down for three days, just the two of us. You kept us both sane by making up ridiculous stories about the pigeons we could see from our hideout."

Still nothing. Clint's frustration grew, but he kept his voice level. He was great at interrogations, but this wasn't a standard one. There was a lot more personally at stake here.

"What about the time you and Peter spent an entire weekend building that massive pillow fort in the common room? You wouldn't let anyone take it down for a week."

"Your tactics won't work. I don't care for these people or these stupid stories."

Clint sighed, running a hand through his hair. He glanced at the mirror, knowing the others were watching, before turning back to Avery.

"Okay, let's try something else. What's the first thing you remember from your time at Hydra?"

Avery's lips pressed into a thin line, her silence a palpable force in the room. Clint waited, the seconds stretching into minutes. The air grew thick with tension, but Avery remained perfectly still, her breathing steady and controlled.

"Alright," Clint said finally, his voice soft. "You don't have to talk. But I want you to listen."

He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I don't know what they did to you, Avery. I don't know what they told you or what they made you believe. But I know you're still in there somewhere. The Avery I know is strong, stubborn as hell, and fiercely loyal. She wouldn't let anyone erase her, not completely."

Avery's expression didn't change.

"We've been searching for you for three years. Three years of dead ends and false hopes. But we never gave up, because we knew you were out there somewhere. Your brother, Isaac? He's been working non-stop to find you. He never lost faith."

"I don't have a brother. You're wasting your time."

Clint leaned back, studying her face. The familiar features were there - the slight arch of her eyebrows, the small scar above her left eye from a training accident years ago. But the warmth, the spark of mischief that had always danced in her eyes, was gone.

Still nothing. Not even a twitch.

"You say you're not Avery. Fine. We know you're Hydra. What's your mission?"

"I have no mission," she replied flatly.

"Bullshit," Clint countered, leaning forward. "Hydra doesn't just let their assets wander around without purpose. So what is it? Infiltration? Assassination?"

For a moment, something flashed in Avery's eyes - confusion, perhaps? But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"I told you, I have no active mission," she repeated, her voice unchanged.

Clint studied her face, searching for any sign of deception. But her expression remained impassive, unreadable. Clint exchanged a glance with the mirror, knowing the others were likely as perplexed as he was. This wasn't standard Hydra protocol. Something wasn't adding up.

"Alright, let's talk about something else then. You said you know about my file. What else do you know about the Avengers?"

Avery's eyes narrowed slightly, but she responded in the same flat tone. "They're a group of enhanced individuals and skilled operatives, considered Earth's primary line of defense against global threats."

"That's the official line," Clint nodded. "But what about the people behind the titles? What do you know about them?"

For a moment, Avery was silent. Then, mechanically, she began to recite.

"Steve Rogers. Enhanced strength and healing. Skilled tactician. Weakness: outdated moral code, attachment to James Barnes. Tony Stark. Genius-level intellect, advanced technology. Weakness: arrogance, PTSD from New York invasion. Natasha Romanoff-"

"Stop," Clint interrupted, his voice sharp. "That's not what I meant. Those are facts, not people. The Avengers aren't just a team, Avery. They're a family. Your family."

"I have no family," she stated flatly.

Clint leaned forward, his voice low and intense. "Yes, you do. And they're waiting for you, just outside that door. Your brother hasn't slept in days. Steve's been pacing the halls like a caged animal. Nat... well, you know Nat. She's pretending she's fine, but we can all see right through it."

Avery's jaw clenched almost imperceptibly. Clint pressed on, sensing a crack in her armour.

"And Bucky... he understands what you're going through better than anyone. He knows what it's like to have your mind twisted, to lose yourself. He wants to help you, Avery."

"I don't need help," she snapped, her voice now carrying more fury than coldness. "I'm not who you think I am."

Clint stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving Avery's face. This wasn't going anywhere.

"Maybe not right now. But you will be. We're not giving up on you, Avery. Not now, not ever."

As Clint turned to leave, Avery's voice stopped him cold.

"You should," she said, her tone devoid of emotion. 

Clint paused, his hand on the doorknob. He looked back at her, searching for any flicker of the woman he once knew.

"Why's that?" he asked carefully.

Avery's eyes met his, and for a brief moment, Clint saw something flicker behind them - pain, perhaps, or fear. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by that unsettling blankness.

"You're wasting your time," she said, her tone flat but with an undercurrent of frustration. "Your Avery is gone."

Clint felt his heart clench at her words. He turned fully to face her, his expression a mix of determination and sadness.

"That's where you're wrong," he said firmly. "As long as you're breathing, there's something worth saving. We don't abandon our own, no matter what."

Avery's gaze dropped to the table, her hands clenching slightly in their restraints. 

"Are we done here?" she asked, her tone once again cold and detached.

"Maybe. But only for now. We'll keep trying, as long as it takes."

With that, he exited the room, leaving Avery alone once more. As soon as the door clicked shut, her posture changed subtly. Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and her eyes closed for a brief moment.

In the observation room, the tension was palpable. Isaac paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair.

"This is insane," he muttered. "She doesn't remember anything. Not even me."

"So what do we do now?" Maria asked, her arms crossed as she continued to observe Avery through the glass.

Clint entered the room, his face grim. "We keep trying. Different approaches, different people. Maybe we can trigger something."

"And if we can't?" Isaac asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The room fell silent, no one willing to voice the possibility that the Avery they knew might truly be gone forever.

"We cross that bridge if we come to it," Fury said finally. "For now, we focus on digging. I want to know everything about where she's been, what she's done, and why Hydra let her get taken so easily."

As the others nodded in agreement, Fury turned to Isaac. "I know this is hard, but we need you at your best. Can you handle this?"

"I have to. She's my sister. I won't give up on her."