4

"You told me before there's a way you can unlock those suppressed memories, maybe you should do it. You can find out more about your missing time, but also learn more about the experiments," said Santiago. He was still lounging against her couch but she suddenly had the urge to smack him.

They don't talk about bringing her suppressed memories back. 

Torrance stood from her spot, going to stand in front of him. "Wanda Maximoff is not an option."

"What are you scared of?" Santiago asked, standing to meet her eyes. "She can help you! You can finally get answers--"

"I'm not doing it," she snarled. "I'm not going to go out and find some superpowered woman who thinks she can just cure me with a flick of her special red dust."

"Don't you want answers?" he pleaded with her. "Don't you want some closure? You're missing thirty-four years of your life! Don't you want to know what the hell happened during that?"

No. "I think you should leave," she said, abruptly.

"What are you trying to hide?"

"Please, Santiago. Just leave."

He grabbed his laptop and backpack aggressively, snapping out an angry, "I was just trying to help. Come find me when you finally want to get answers."

Torrance watched him leave, unlocking her front door and pulling it open with a force before exiting and slamming the door as hard as he could. She flinched at the sound, balling her hands into fists.

There was something lost in herself that she was too much of a coward to remember. There was a reason to that absence, to the fragmented pieces of her life. Of course, knowing what she had done during her missing time would be, ultimately, helpful in figuring herself out but she didn't want to know the baggage that would follow. Those memories were taken for a reason and she didn't want to know whether or not it was to protect her or to protect others.

She picked the tapes up, marveling at them, wondering who Anastasia could be to her. What meaning did this no good assassin have? Was she someone she knew before the experiments? Someone after?

She shuddered, tossing them aside and moving from her living room and to her kitchen. She opened nearly empty cabinets, pulling a bottle of scotch from the top shelf. She unscrewed the cap and flicked it the rest of the way off, before tipping it back and guzzling down a third of the drink. 

It burned her throat and made her stomach feel uncomfortably warm, but she kept drinking. She was mad at herself today. She destroyed evidence from a Hydra warplane and killed someone. She hadn't done that for some time, not to mention even going on a field mission. She hadn't been on one for what felt like months and the first time she does, she has to kill someone.

Killing was second nature for her and it frightened her to hell. The quick pull of a trigger, the thrust of a knife, even the sharp grip of hands around a neck came easily for her, when it shouldn't.

To be fair, the woman she killed was Hydra so what could she do? Be upset over the death of a traitor to the country? A traitor who helped kill hundreds before her? She was a killer and nothing but that. There seemed to be no redeeming qualities besides the fact that she was forced into the life. She could have been anyone before, but she was made into a killer.

Was she anything different than her? Made into something you're not. 

Torrance knew her past included her origin, the mystery that followed her own participation with the Super Soldier Serum. She had been created, molded, shifted into someone else entirely. Not a someone, no, a something.

She tipped the bottle up and drank more, the amber liquid running down her chin when she was finished. She brushed it off with a flick of her thumb and placed the bottle on the counter before retuning to the couch. She grabbed her coat, her keys, and the tapes. 

The serum in her veins made it difficult to get drunk and she wished, during times like these, all it would take was one shot to make her forget. But it wasn't the time to forget, at least, not yet.

She had a plan, maybe a risky one. But it was still a plan.

~

Torrance arrived at the Avenger's Facility, parking near the front. She held the tapes to her chest as she dug around in her coat pocket for her ID badge, pulling it out when she got to the doors. She scanned herself in properly as she entered the building, only slightly more nervous than she was before.

She took the elevator up to the offices and when she exited, her heart was beating loudly in her ears. Fury had to be back by now, the crash site happened hours ago, there was no need for him to stay so long.

Walking down the hallway and to his office was the hardest part of her. Fighting herself as she moved, knowing he probably wouldn't give her many answers but this was the right thing to do. To warm him incase the mysterious assassin was still in some cryo-chamber. 

So she sucked in a deep breath before knocking on the office door. She heard a gruff 'come in' from the other side and pushed the door all the way open with her shoulder. 

Fury sat behind his desk, files across his desk as he rubbed his forehead. "What do you want, Torrance?"

She smiled, fumbling as she stood awkwardly in front of him. "You're going to be mad, but just let me explain myself first--"

"Just tell me what you did," he groaned, rubbing his face with both hands now. 

"I took these off the warplane before it exploded," she said quickly, placing the large envelope down on his desk. He took it into his hands, opening it slowly and peering inside. He pulled out one of the tapes and she recognized it as tape three. He read the name on the tape and his eyes went wide, snapping at her, "Who has seen these?"

"Only me, sir," she lied. She didn't want to drag Santiago into this, he knew too much and she was afraid of what Fury would do to him if he knew what she had told her friend. 

"What all do you know about her?"

"Her name is Anastasia Moroz, she's linked to Hydra. Her-um-assassin name was Venus--" She scratched her arm, feeling the tension in the room grow. "--she was apart of the same experiments that I was in and she had been experimented on by Zola. She has a relationship with project Rebirth and with the tesseract. She has over one hundred confirmed kills--"

"No one was supposed to remember her, much less know anything about her," Fury said, shaking his head. 

A ghost story, a myth, a legend.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "What's so bad about her? It's been at least seventy years since anyone has heard about her--so what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that her body was never found. The big deal is that she could be working for Hydra right now. We have no clue who she really is or how she works," he said, angry. He folded his hands in front of him before stating, "She was a threat to this organization and to the country. We don't know anything about her, besides some iffy details here and there from over the years. For all we know she could be working here, sneaking her way back into the fold of everything. And with the warplane discovery and Agent Porter being Hydra, we don't know who to trust."

She held her hands up, shaking her head. "Listen, all I did was listen to a few. I didn't even get to the last tape, you can have a go at them. See if there's anything in there that can tell you who she was, but good luck actually finding anything useful. It's just a bunch of screaming and doctor's rambling about serum treatment and how 'dangerous' and 'strong' the patient is. You can't even tell who it really is behind the tapes talking, because Anastasia is some woman with a thick Russian accent. That could have been anyone!" She backed away from the desk and to the door throwing over her shoulder, "I'm going to my desk, try and listen to the tapes after two and three if you can. If there's anything you need, you know where to find me."

She left quickly.

She didn't want to get caught up in the drama. She didn't want anything to do with the tapes or Anastasia. All she wanted was to get plastered and hope to forget the sounds of Anastasia's screams. 

But she would be lying to herself. There was a growing temptation growing in Torrance's gut that told her to keep searching, to find the answers and to find her.

She went down the hallway quickly, going to the elevator and taking it down to her usual floor. She worked on the ground floor, monitoring and filing files all day. She enjoyed the job from time to time, sitting around and not actually doing work. But on days like this, she was exhausted and wanted nothing more but to go home (maybe even think about the tapes if she allowed herself that luxury). But going home meant confronting Santiago and she wasn't looking forward to that. 

At all.

When she reached her desk, she slid into her chair. She leaned back as her computer turned on and she suddenly felt out of place. The people who worked here were working for the sake of working. They did it because they enjoyed filing out paperwork and researching about threats, but that wasn't her. At least not anymore. She wanted to find out more about Venus and her killings and how Hydra might be coming back into the picture. But she needed more proof because her only evidence was in a pile of burning metal in a snow covered ditch in the middle of goddamn nowhere. Not to even mention the tapes, because those were from years and years ago, it's not like Venus could come out of hiding. She'd have to be in her eighties, maybe older.

She ignored the little ping! her computer gave off when it turned all the way on and stood. She grabbed her keys from her desk and was heading for the doors and she left quicker than she came. 

She had a mission and her first stop was to go back to Santiago and apologize, but to also get more intel. He had been right about her hiding something and it was time for her to fess up so he could help her again. She knew he had information about the streets and about backhanded deals and the dark events that happened in the alleys. 

She needed him.

When Torrance arrived back at the bar, bag of warm tortilla chips and salsa from the local Mexican restaurant in hand, she pushed her way inside and ignored the lingering stares from Donnie. She got to the back stairs and traveled up them reluctantly, anxious to admit she was wrong. When she got to his apartment door, she knocked gently, a part of her praying he didn't hear or even better, he wasn't home at all.

Her stomach fell when he opened the door with a frown as he said, "What do you want, Tor?"

"I wanted to apologize!" she said, sighing as she pleaded with him. "I shouldn't have been so rude to you earlier, you were just trying to help and I got frustrated." She held up the chips and salsa, forcing a grin as she said pathetically, "I got us chips, too, as an extra apology."

"Why don't you want to know the truth?" he whispered, ignoring her present and cocked his head to the side. "What's making you so afraid?"

She looked around nervously, dropping her eyes to the floor as she whispered, "I just don't want to know what I did. I don't want to know if I killed people or even hurt them--"

"You kill people now."

"Not the point," she said under her breath, dropping her arm that held the foods to her side, defeated. "I'm just not ready to face the truth. I'm not ready to face whatever consequences that'll follow, all the questions, all of the accusations that will haunt me after knowing everything. I like not knowing."

That emptiness is comforting.

"You won't always forget, one day you'll be faced with the option of finally knowing and understanding what happened to you and you'll be forced to take all of that back in," he said to her, hand resting against the door frame. "You can either take it upon yourself to know now and get it all over with, or it'll come at a time worse than this."

"I just can't do that to myself. Not now, not ever."

"Do whatever you want, it's not my business anyways," he said, closing the door slowly before sighing and saying, "If I hear any information about Venus, I'll tell you right away. But for now, keep enjoying yourself, Torrance. This type of peace you have with not knowing more about your past won't last forever."

And with that, he closed the door, leaving her alone in the empty hall with her heart lodged in her throat and her head spinning. She backed away from the door and retreated back to her apartment, unlocking the door with shaking fingers and going inside. 

The air was stuffier then she remembered when she left earlier, and she looked around, feeling like something was out of place. Everything was where it was when she left but her eyes froze on her window near the fire escape and she noticed how it was wide open now, a breeze moving the curtains back. 

She dove behind her kitchen counter, dropping her keys and food as the gun shots erupted, a bullet piercing her front door where she had been standing only seconds before. She crawled back towards the sink, the kitchen counter shielding her as she flung open the cabinet doors underneath the sink. She prodded her hands on the roof of the little cabinet, finding only the tape she had used to place her extra gun up and the voice laughing from behind her only made her angrier, "Looking for this?"

She looked back over her shoulder, seeing a man she had never seen before standing her with gun in his hands like he had found a secret pot of gold. "Yeah," she snarled. "I was." But she was smarter than that, she had other weapons hidden. So when she stood, hands up, she approached the counter and placed her hands down flat against the counter with a smirk, "Who the hell are you and why the hell are you in my place?"

"Looking for those tapes you stole," he snapped back, gun still up as if it was threatening at all. A little gun didn't scare her. "But looks like I got here too late, so, where'd you take them?"

"Where do you think?"

"Back to your boss?"

She hummed in response, moving around the counter but not before running a hand underneath the little bar where she kept empty bottles of drinks she had finished ages ago but was too lazy to take out with the rest of the trash. She gripped the neck of an old bottle of Grey Goose and picked it up silently, keeping it down by her side as she stopped on the other end of the counter, keeping the bottle hidden. "You're never going to get those back, sorry."

"You should forget what you know, what you've learned," he said to her, before smiling as he added with a snarl, "Anastasia Moroz is not someone you should take lightly. She is not dead, she will rise--"

She lunged towards him around the counter, and he got a useless shot off at her floorboards as she used the bottle to strike his gun out of his hands and swung the bottle back again, aiming for his head as he took a staggering step backwards. 

When the hard glass came in contact with his face, the bottle shattering, she saw blood spray off his face from the impact and when she thought he was a goner as he fell back into the wall, he surprised her by charging her. His arms wrapped around her side as they collided, the force of his counter attack sending them both to the ground. Her head swung back and hit the floor beneath her, the hit rattling her head and sending black dots to her vision as he sat on top of her and sent a fist hurtling towards her face. She grunted, her head snapping to the right as he wound up for another hit, but she was still holding the broken bottle by the neck so she swung, catching his hand. Blood dripped down from his hand and she felt it, warm and hot, against her cheek and neck.

She remembered blood like this, in the heat of a battle. Blood rushing from bullet holes, from broken faces, shattered bones. It was all the same, red and raw.

She used her strength to throw him off her, this time she was the one to punch him as she got on top of his chest, the bottle now gone from her hands. She wrapped her bare hands around his neck and felt it all as she breathed in deeply, her eyes almost rolling back into her head as she took it all in as her grip tightened.

Sasha. Hydra. Assassin. Valaria. Partner. 

Don't trust anyone. Don't trust anyone.

Kill Torrance Avery. Find Bucky Barnes. Kill. Kill. Kill. 

Born in Samara, Russia. My mother's name was Tanya and my father's was Zach, kill them both-kill them both--

Find the link. Find the link before they do, find it and destroy it. Keep her hidden, keep her a secret. No body-no body found-she's alive-the serum kept her alive--

"Who the fuck are you?!" Torrance yelled as he grinned, his laughter choked from her hold as he said in a strained voice, "I think you already know." She sent her fist into his face, not once but twice, hoping to get the message across she was done playing silly games. It burned into her knuckles and she welcomed the pain like she did his thoughts.

I worked in an accounting firm on Wall Street, that's my cover. Remember your cover story, Sasha, dammit! Your brothers and sisters of Hydra expect more from you. You must do better.

Do better! Do better or die!

Kill the traitors! Kill her before she finds out the truth, kill her before she finds the records-kill-kill-kill the bitch!

Carmel macchiato, whipped cream, warmed croissant, I love Starbucks. Get Starbucks for the boss, don't make them angry. Don't make them hurt her, I love her, I love her-my wife-my wife-she's dead. Kill her. Kill the traitors, wipe them out, wipe the truth. Keep it a secret, don't tell anyone. She's alive, keep it a secret--

His blood smeared under her fingers and she pressed down tighter, his skin feverish under her hands. He was smiling, laughing as she choked him, his hands gripping her forearms and before she could say something witty, something daring, she was thrown off him. 

She landed on her side as she skidded across the floor, her back hitting the wall. She was on her hands and knees when she watched him charge at her again, but she was quicker. She was older than him, more experienced, and she grabbed his shoulders as he ran into the wall where he thought she would still be. 

Kill them both-kill them and you'll live. Sasha, you'll live if you put a bullet in each of their brains. Don't you understand? Don't you want to live? I do-I do, Valaria-I do, I promise--

She used the wall to help her kick up and onto his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his neck, squeezing her thighs together. He slammed his fists into her thighs, trying to get her to let up on her grip as he smashed her back into the wall, trying to throw her off. 

"You'll never get those tapes back!" she screamed, raising her hands up over her head and throwing them down onto his bald head. He stumbled to the side as she repeated the motion, watching his feet trip over the other and she pushed off him as he fell to his side. "Who is alive, Sasha?! Who are you trying to protect?!"

He let out an unsettling laugh, blood spitting out from his mouth and over his lips. He smiled at her and she barely had time to let recognition set in as he reached over and grabbed the gun that had been knocked from his hands minutes before and he fired a single lousy shot at her before she kicked the gun out of his hands and picked it up for herself, a gentle pain settling in through her forearm. She ignored the feeling of warm coming to the surface of her jacket, a bloody hole added to her collection of ruined clothes she would continue to wear.

She was used to pain like this, to the throb, to the deafening ache, to all the blood. This wasn't new. None of it was.

She raised the gun up, aiming at his face as she whispered, "Who the hell's still alive?"

"Who do you think?"

She opened her mouth to speak, loosing her words as she looked away. When she looked back, he was still lying there with a smirk on his face. She reached down and touched his face, gripping his cheeks as new information surged through her like a deadly weapon as she pressed the gun to the side of his face. All she had to do was touch him again, force her way through everything he wasn't willingly giving.

Anastasia. Anastasia. Anastasia. No body found-she's alive-she's alive. Kill her, she knows too much, kill her before she kills you.

"Why are you trying to find Bucky Barnes? What does he have to do with everything?"

Fist of Hydra. He can be controlled. Control him and he'll help you kill her. They were lovers-lovers under a deadly hypnosis. He will kill her for leaving him. She will kill him if she's not stopped. She's too dangerous. She's more of a killer than we'll ever be. She's a bigger threat.

Sasha smiled bloody teeth up at her and whispered a truth to her she didn't want to hear, "The trust lies in what's hidden, remember that Torrance Avery."

"Tell Valaria, I say hi," she snarled before she pulled the trigger. Blood and brain and skull fragments erupted across her floorboards and she felt some hit her cheeks as he stared up at her with vacant eyes. 

She stood from over him, legs on either side of his chest as she looked at her fresh kill. There was loud pounding on her door, pounding she hadn't heard for several minutes now as Santiago's voice shouted, "Torrance?! Are you alright?! Torrance--"

"Don't come in," she yelled back but he was already opening the door as she kept her eyes on the body. She felt him stand in line with her, looking down at the body like she was, his breathing heavy.

"What have you gotten yourself into?"

She stared down at the blood that was moving across the floorboards, seeping into the cracks, dark and inviting. It wanted her, that violence and rage within her, it wanted out. She looked away from the unsettling red and gave her friend a sigh. 

"Nothing good."