The opening notes of the song on the radio played as Yelena snatched the paper out of the Soviet spy's desperate hand and casually tossed it out the passenger side window.

   It fluttered out of view to the sounds of a neck being broken cleanly and a head gently hitting the steering wheel.

   Things haven't been quite the same, there's a haze on the horizon, babe

   She opened the passenger side door and stepped out onto the road. Yelena bent and picked the paper from the ground, waving it in the air. Seconds later, she heard the sound of cop cars.

   And nothin' really goes to plaan

   A cop car pulled to a stop behind the car Yelena had been in, and two guys with a body bag stepped out. They started to work, pulling the body out of the car and placing it in the bag.

   Yelena glanced up at the hill perpendicular to the road, where at the top, a man leaning on his motorcycle with crossed arms watched her. He wore a leather jacket and black clothes and had brown hair, that was all Yelena could tell about him so far.

   He'd been there the whole time.

   Who was he? 

   Yelena waited until they had the body in the police car before she asked them, "Where's the pay?"

   The one closer to her put his hands on his hips. "Up there." He jerked his chin in the direction of the hill.

   "And who the hell is he?" Yelena raised her eyebrows, looking at him again.

   The guy on the hill waved.

   "Sergeant Barnes, ma'am." He tipped his hat at her. "Have a good afternoon."

   "Uh..." Yelena didn't know what to say. "Y–You too?" So... Barnes was here? The man on the hill was him?

   Yelena sprinted up the hill as fast as she could. His arms uncrossed and he pulled an envelope out of his jacket and handed it to her. Yelena stared at him.

   His face had more lines, and his eyes still held a bit of the same angst and age in them. His hair was long and messy, and he had a new arm, it was black and gold now.

   Bucky Barnes smiled at her. Yelena couldn't believe her eyes. He seemed so free, so free and confident.

   The smile faded. "Take your money, Belova," he urged, still holding it out to her.

   Her hand came up and her fingers grasped it. He let go. 

   "How are you doing these days?" Barnes asked, hands on his bike. They both knew exactly what the elephant on the hill was, but neither wanted to talk about her.

   She gave him a one-shouldered shrug. "Eh. Fine. I..." Emotions surged below the surface, and she willed not to cry. "I just... miss her."

   Barnes looked at his feet. "Me too. I wish it could've been me, not her."

   Yelena sighed, not sure why he was being so open with her about his feelings. "Neither of the both of you deserved it, and neither of you should have died, Barnes."

   He nodded.

    The Soldier gave her a blank glare with a spark of determination behind his eyes.

   Yelena's small hands shook, and she clasped them tightly in front of her. She willed her knees not to wobble as she pushed herself to her feet.

   She was supposed to fight him. It was a test to see if she was worth living. Fear raced through her veins. What if she failed?

   Best case scenario, the Winter Soldier would beat her up.

   "[Belova. Go.]" The man named Karpov barked, his beady eyes unblinkingly stalking her movements.

   She took a deep breath, walking up to meet the assassin.

   The other girls watched closely, most of them already marked with bruises and blood from their test.

   He took two rapid steps toward her. She tried to keep up with him, moving as he moved, but weaving around behind him didn't work. Yelena was too slow. His metal elbow caught her face with a clang.

   Yelena swung backward, stumbling. If she fell, the test was over, so she had to keep on her feet. Spots appeared in her vision.

  He was holding back, not hitting as hard as he could, that much was obvious. The girls were all mostly short and thin. If he had used his full strength, he could've punched through some of the girls' bodies.

   Yelena didn't want that to happen to her. She dodged as his other arms swung toward her, and he missed by little more than an inch. Overwhelmingly fast, he kept firing fists at her.

   Punch by punch, step by step, she tried, tried, tried.

   He grabbed her hair and jerked her head back. She gasped, hot pain like fire spreading through her scalp, as her body hit the floor.

   She scrambled back up. The Soldier came back to her, cold death in his eyes.

   Chills ran down her spine. She sidestepped, turning almost as if it were an effortless coupe turn. No time to think, she danced around behind him, kicking at the backs of his black-covered knees as hard as she could. On the third try, he bent down, but his flesh hand gave her another punch.

  Unsurprised, she grabbed a fistful of his thick brown hair and ripped it back hard. His head came up to meet her eyes, and she saw sarcasm in his eyes. His eyes narrowed, and he grabbed her wrist and flipped her over him.

   She landed with a thud, pinned under his weight. Yelena knew she was beat, and she was beginning to feel the soreness from her new bruises kick in. She tapped his arm, signaling defeat.

   He pulled away from her and didn't come back. She watched his combat boots draw away from her. Yelena touched her head, which still stung. It was wet. Blood.

   Pushing off the floor, she limped away and sat down. 

   Karpov walked over to his Soldier and whispered in his ear. The Soldier didn't react, only his eyes changed. They fell on the last girl to be tested.

   Natalia.

   All of the other girls were sleeping.

   Yelena was half asleep under the blanket, her bruises still aching, when she heard Natasha shift in her bed. She slowly moved her eyelids and head to see what would happen.

   Yelena tried not to shift her handcuffs.

   Would she pick the handcuffs? Yelena wasn't sure. No one had been taught how to do that. But she knew that she's been sneaking out to train extra for extra time, and maybe even with the Soldier. It wasn't impossible, considering how they fought each other with a certain depth to the the movements, a complexity that Yelena would never understand.

   Chills crawled up her spine and it was everything she could do not to jump.

   The Soldier stood over Natasha's bed, his tall body a black silhouette that didn't belong in the room full of slumbering girls. He bent down and whispered in her ear, in words that weren't Russian. English.

   She nodded, sitting up and moving her head over her hands until it seemed that she had her lips on her fingers. After a few seconds, Yelena heard a click.

   A small, proud smile grew on the Soldier's lips, making Yelena gasp.

   The moment dissolved into shock as, suddenly, the Soldier was in her face with a murderous look in his eyes. His flesh hand covered her mouth, using so much force that it forced her head against the wall.

   He leaned toward her. "[Shouldn't you be in bed, little girl?]"

   There wasn't much cruelty in his voice, just a vague irritation. She gulped. What was going on in his head? He wasn't supposed to have feelings, or at least that was what it looked like when he was around his handler. All cold and obedient.

   This was not obedient. Why would he break rules like this? Why would he break rules–a hot stab of jealousy punctured her–for Natasha? Natasha was already good. Extremely skilled. What would he need to go out of his way for her?

   She raised her eyebrows at him, almost forgetting how dangerous he was in her arrogance.

   He glanced back at Natasha, and she bit her lip. He turned back to her. He lowered his hand, and whispered in Yelena's ear, "Keep your mouth shut, and I'll train you, too."

   Yelena took a deep breath, and nodded firmly.

   Something in his eyes told her that his training would be harder and harsher than the usual instructors', but she also knew that it...would be worth the pain.