(Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction snippet set in the MCU. All characters belong to the MCU except for my character, Phoenix, Enjoy!)

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I met the gaze of a ghost. Her pale, thin face was gaunt, surrounded by thick brown hair. Her dark eyes were hollow, shadows flanking the undersides. I drew my lips into a thin line. So did she. My eyes fell to black ink that permeated my skin. The cursed marks that made sure I never forgot who I was.

Who I was... Bucky begged to differ, said my past didnt define me. I wished I could believe it. My entire identity, wrapped up in two tattoos: the wretched symbol of HYDRA, and my "name", Project 537X6.

I turned away from the mirror, pulling my hair into a ponytail. My eyes flashed around the room. It was well-furnished with ivory tables, velvet curtains, rugs, and black and white marble flooring. The bed was laden with satin blankets and comforters, and piled high with dozens of plush-looking pillows.

I realized I'd been holding my breath and released it. 'Relax, Phoenix. You're safe here.' I thought, forcing myself to be less tense.

A soft knock jolted my senses. My head snapped up and I met a pair of brown, curious eyes. The information flashed in front of me as usual.

Name: Zemo, Helmut

Sex: Male

Age: 34

Spouse: None

Children: None

Place of Birth: Sokovia

I blinked and it disappeared.

"Forgive me for intruding. I trust you find yourself comfortable?"

I nodded and forced a smile. "Yes. You're very generous, thank you."

He nodded. "Your wounds?"

"On the mend, thanks to you."

He nodded again, eyes drifting around the room. He wrung his hands. The silence stretched long. I didnt know what to say, and it appeared that he wished to speak but didn't have the words. Finally, he broke the quiet.

"This used to be our room... my wife's and mine..." his voice was scarcely more than a whisper.

"Your wife?" I blinked. Had my programming been incorrect?

He gave a short nod. "She died ten years ago, along with our infant daughter."

"I'm so sorry... I didn't know."

"The Avengers, they told you of my evils against them, I'm sure?"

I nodded.

"Now you know why." He said.

Suddenly, it clicked. "Super Soldiers?"

He nodded gravely. "I'm not proud of what I did. I was driven by pain and my thirst for revenge." He walked to the window, gazing out at the busy street below. "Funny how a man can change."

Sensing his reference to saving me, I voiced my thanks. He waved a hand dismissively.

"If you need anything, just call." He turned back to me and smiled slightly. "I'll be working on getting you that plane ticket back to New York."

"Thanks, Zemo." I smiled.

••••

I jolted upright and looked about wildly. My knucles were white around the sweat-soaked sheets. Something was wrong. The room was dark and deadly silent. Optimism tried to tell me all was well - that it was only me being uncomfortable in a room of this size and pomp - but I knew better. Something was wrong. Very wrong. I could feel it.

My heart felt as though it were in my throat as I slid from beneath the covers. The rug was soft beneath my feet. I crept to the marble floor, allowing the cold to sink into my skin. A cool breeze sent shivers down my spine. My pulse hammered, and it kept quickening. I whirled now, frantic. Still nothing. The room was as it was, everything in it's place.

My hair blew gently in the wind. I froze, every muscle in my body tensing.

I hadn't opened the window.

Whipping around, I came face-to-face with the man of my nightmares. The man that called himself a doctor because he tortured people; broke them to bits to see all the different ways they could be put back together.

"Hello, soldier. Lets get this over with, shall we?" His gravelly voice sneered

Terror raged in my mind. I bolted for the door. A strike of pain blazed my brain as I heard the first word.

"Longing..."

I wrenched open the door and tumbled into the hall.

"Rusted..."

"Zemo!" I cried.

"Seventeen..."

I clutched my head as my vision swam. I crashed into a table, sending it's contents flying. "Zemo!"

"Daybreak..."

My head throbbed and ached. I shoved myself to my feet, determined to escape.

"Furnace..."

My balance wavered. I crashed again.

"Nine..."

I crawled like a drunken person, feeling for the ground in front of me.

"Benign..."

"ZEMO!" I screamed, desperate as pain like lightning seared my skull.

"Homecoming."

I crumpled, arms and legs twitching.

"One..."

I was doomed. I heard the rush of feet and saw him fly around the corner. Even through my blurred vision, I saw the horror flash in his eyes.

"Run..." I breathed

"Freight car."

Darkness.

••••

I blinked once. Twice. Three times.

"Good evening, soldier."

I raised my eyes steadily to look into the doctor's.

"Ready to comply."

A malicious grin spread across his face. "It's time to finish what we started." He nodded to his left. My gaze followed to a middle-aged man. His eyes were wide. He took a cautious step back. Fear oozed from him. Good.

"Phoenix, please..." he began. His voice shook.

Phoenix? My mind spun for answers.

"Who's Phoenix?" My gaze darted back to the doctor.

"He's a madman, a threat." He held out a pistol. "You know what to do."

I took the pistol snd steadied myself. I aimed.

"Phoenix, this isn't who you are-" he took another step back, reaching his hand to a nearby table.

"Shoot!" The doctor ordered. Pain sliced through my brain. I blinked hard and moved my finger to the trigger.

"Phoenix, remember who you are! Fight it, Phoenix! Fight it!" His hand fell swiftly back to his side, concealing something.

My hands trembled.

A shot split the air.