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They weren’t lying, at least. You wouldn’t put it past them to have been, but sure enough, a man in a grey Hydra uniform (must be a high-ranking officer; the badges on his sleeves are red and there are half a dozen bars on his epaulettes) shows up with a few lackeys who are gripping Natasha’s arms tightly behind her back.

You’re not worried about that, about the grip on her hands or the operatives surrounding her. You are worried, though, about the fact that Natasha Romanova - of all people - is hunched over in their grip, shivering just slightly and trying to shield her face with the fall of her hair; behind it, her eyes are wide and frightened. This is not the Natasha you know.

They warn Steve, with a sharp word, to stay back, so you cross over to the Hydra side alone. As you pass Natasha, you try to reach out, brush your fingers along your face, ask what the hell they did to her, but she flinches away in terror and you pull your hand back like you’ve just been burnt.