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If A Guy's Bad, He's Gotta Go

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The first thing she noticed was the pain. Her entire body ached and felt heavy, and she suddenly wished she could just fall back asleep.

That is - until she realized she hadn't been sleeping at all.

She forced her eyes open and all she saw was concrete. The floor, the walls, even the goddamned ceiling was made out of concrete. The cold had seeped into her bones, but even that did nothing to lessen the pain she felt.

She tried to move, to lift her head, but the shock of pain going through her body made her immediately give up that attempt. Instead she focused on getting her bearings, to look around this cold room and figure out how she ended up here.

Everything was fuzzy, like she should be remembering something but she just couldn't. It hurt to think, it hurt to breathe. 

And the loud creak of the steel door opening, and the heavy sound of military boots against the floor hurt even more and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Judging by the noise, a man knelt in front of her, and he grabbed her chin with his rough and calloused hand. He forced her to turn to him, opening her eyes.

"Good morning princess. Welcome to Hydra."



"Faster! Faster!"

The man ordered her, and she complied. She hit the dummy faster, and harder, until her knuckles bled and the stuffing started to spilling around her feet.

"That's enough."

Almost immediately she stopped, and turned to her inspector with a stiff back and a blank expression on her face.

"You did well, princess. Clean up and go to target practice."

She nodded curtly, and the man stalked off, allowing her to finally relax her posture and grimace at her bloody knuckles. Without further ado, apart from a very heavy sigh, she swept up the debris and  bandaged her knuckles before venturing out to target practice.

It had become routine after that day she woke up in the concrete room. 

They took her to a doctor, got her wounds cleaned and let her heal while telling her about what had happened to her. 

She had been involved in an explosion that had nearly cost her her life, and had cost them many. 

They had found her, barely alive, and had taken her back with them.

They had apologized fiercely for just dumping her in a room, but they hadn't been sure if she was a threat or not. In the end, they had decided that she was not.

In return for them saving her, they would train her and she would become an agent. Hunting down bad guys, while saving the good guys.

The blast had done some damage to her brain, and she had suffered a pretty severe case of amnesia. She could remember bits and pieces of her childhood and had a couple of blurry memories of a lab but nothing about who she was or where she came from.

They gave her the name Darcy, but no one hardly used it.

Everyone just called her Princess.

She had been here nearly two years and she had trained nearly every day. If she didn't train with her body, she trained her mind. Always training, always fighting.

It was her life, and she rather enjoyed it. 

They often moved around, the base never staying in the same place for long. They said the bad guys were after them, hunting them down for things they never did. It angered her, that the bad guys never even looked at the full picture. Never saw the good things Hydra did. How they protected people, trained them to be able to defend themselves.

It was a shame really, but hey, if a guy's bad, he's gotta go. That's just the way things were now. 

And it really, really was.

Six days later, she was given her biggest assignment yet. She had agents with her to assist her, but she was the main fighter. She called the shots, she was in charge.

And her target?


James Buchanan Barnes.