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Chapter Text

Russia, 2006.

Whether it was February or sometime in June I was no longer sure.

The air was glacial around me, and I was sure I was dying.

There was a dampness that enveloped me, something in the stale air that agitated my senses. I laid back against the rough gravel, sweat streaming down my neck even with the snow that dappled my cheeks. It must be February still, this much snow could only mean winter. I rasped a breath out. My eyes were heavily lidded, suit becoming damp with the blood that spilled from my side. I saw a familiar face then, her name was Annika, or at least I thought it was. Dark hair slicked back as she prowled around searching for me. When our eyes met, I hoped death would come with haste, surely it would be merciful. This instead of returning to his grasp. She came to kneel beside me, gravel crunching under her weight. She said my name, but it was distant, her hand came to grip mine. Perhaps there was something in my gaze, something she recognized. That is the only conclusion I could come to as she let her hand drift from mine offering a single nod, but not the slightest of expressions as she spoke.

“Отдыхай сейчас, сестра.”

Rest now, sister.

I would never forget her mercy. My eyes drifted shut as everything became distant, the dreary cold, the aching muscles, the blood that drained from me. Then, there was nothing. Finally.

The smooth, delicate flesh which had seen no hard labor smoothed my hair down, twirling a golden curl between slender fingers. A quiet hum filled my ears, followed by smooth words

Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper, ‘I love you’. Birds singing in the sycamore tree.

“Dream a little dream of me.” I murmured; the low hum of an engine filled my ears as I jolted awake. I was confused by the strange vision I had seen whilst unconscious, an American woman who had found her way into my mind’s eye many times before. When I’d told Natasha about her years ago, she’d said perhaps the woman was my guardian angel. The thought made my heart clench, I wondered where Natasha was, if she was still breathing or if she was merely another piece of the past now.

When my consciousness returned fully, I managed to prop myself up enough to take in my surroundings, I immediately regretted it. Surrounding me, atop my legs, by my head were bodies. I suspected we were being taken to a site for disposal, that had been my path, a nameless corpse among the others taken to be dumped in a wide grave. However, by some wicked twist of fate some stubborn part of me seemed unwilling to die. I had planned my escape before, many times over the past 10 years. Yet, now when it was practically in my palms, it was hollow and did not feel as if it were mine. I tore a small shred of fabric from the shirt of once of the corpses, apologizing to the lifeless eyes that watched me as I used it as a makeshift bandage over the wound at the side of my stomach. It hurt, yet I’d sustained far worse. I reminded myself of this as I took the knife from my boot and cut into my wrist, blood trickling down my forearm as I slipped the tip of the blade beneath the skin to locate the chip that would tell him exactly where I was. An ache set into the base of my skull as a ringing noise filled my ears, I persevered, nonetheless. Finally, metal hit metal and I slipped the tracker from my skin. I put the microchip into the pocket of one of the corpses. Even if it was followed it would only lead to a hole filled with dead. I pressed my bleeding wrist to my chest as I dragged myself to the edge of the trailer, tucking my head and rolling. The gravel scraped my flesh, digging into me and engraving new cuts into my body. I gasped for air as I landed on my hurt side, shutting my eyes tightly to block out the still present ringing. Whether there was a part of me that truly wished to live or it was merely stubborn fury that pushed me to get up I was unsure.

The pain seared through me as I watched the car leave the driveway from behind some stray shrubbery. Forcing myself back to my feet I hobbled toward the now empty house. A brief search of the area surrounding the backdoor returned no sign of a spare key and I could feel the blood still oozing from the wound on my side as well as the steady stream on my wrist. I leaned against the wall, steadying myself momentarily as my head began to spin. With a swift movement I shattered the small glass panel of the door, reaching within to flick the lock. Given the distance of this particular house from the nearest neighbor, I was not concerned that someone may be alarmed by the sound, hence the appeal of this property. When inside I made quick work of securing the items I required; pants and a shirt, to allow me to remove my torn, bloodied suit, only keeping my boots and push dagger. I also grabbed some towels. When I’d found each item I moved back to the kitchen, searching for some kind of first aid kit, though there was no sign of one in the vicinity. After rifling through a few more cupboards, I gave up on the errand, not wanting to linger in case the homeowner returned. Makeshift antiseptic would have to suffice, I grabbed the bottle of vodka I’d clocked in a cabinet before carefully moving to sit on the tiled floor. I peeled the black suit from my body, cursing as it clung to my gash. When I was down to only my undergarments, I pressed one of the folded towels between my lips, gritting my teeth around it as I held the other towel just below my wound.

I was unable to swallow the groans of agony that ripped through me as I poured the vodka onto my flesh, blood-stained alcohol pooling onto the towel in my hand. The ringing noise returned, echoing through my ears as the pain intensified, fraying my nerves. When the overwhelming burning subsided slightly, I began to attach a piece of cloth over the marred flesh; it would have to suffice until I could find a needle and sutures. As fast as I was capable in my state, I slipped into the clean clothes disregarding the mess that I’d created in favor of getting out of this house as soon as possible. I only collected the items that were coated in my blood before filling a canteen that I’d found with water from the tap. Before leaving, I grabbed a coat and gloves from the rack next to the door.

The flakes of snow kissed my cheeks as I trudged through the streets, tightening the coat around my body, chin tucked into the soft inside layer. I wasn’t sure where I was going or what I planned to do when I got there but remaining on my feet seemed a solid starting point. I managed to find a pharmacy along my way, the faint green cross bringing some relief as I all but stumbled through the door. Old Russian opera hummed over the radio, surrounding me as I scanned the shelves. A young boy sat at the front of the store, completely engrossed in the faded, well-loved comic book he was reading; I wasn’t sure he’d even noticed me enter, regardless of the bell that had rung above my head the moment the door had opened. I glanced at him to ensure he was still ignoring me before shoving a stitching kit and some bandages into my pockets. This was all I needed, though my feet seemed cemented to the floor where I stood. I was unsure whether I was swaying or if it was just my imagination. The room suddenly seemed to be spinning around me. My breath felt ragged, and I could feel sweat on the back of my neck.

“Могу я вам помочь, мисс?”

Can I help you, miss?

The boys’ words barely met my ears. I closed my eyes tightly, releasing a shaky breath and attempting to steady myself against the shelf.

“Нет, спасибо.” No, thank you. I grabbed a pack of throat soothing candies from the shelf, holding it toward him. “У тебя не тот вкус, который мне нравится.” You don’t have the flavour I like. He nodded in response, watching me with what I believed was concern for my welfare glimmering in his gaze. I offered him a smile that was likely not very convincing before turning and making my way from the store. I found a block of public bathrooms to lock myself in as I peeled the layers from my body and began the laborious task of stitching my wound closed. My hands were nowhere near as steady as they normally were, and it was no small task to focus my eyes. I’d stitched up my wounds and the wounds of others countless times, yet now, when time was not on my side, nothing seemed to be going my way. The sting of the needle seemed nothing compared to the collective pains from the day.

I recalled stealing the loaf of bread, so fresh it burnt me beneath my coat where I had stowed it away as I stumbled toward the tracks. The sting of the piping hot dough against my chest was easy to focus on, something to anchor me to reality. I remember that and I remember falling unceremoniously into the empty carriage at the back of the cargo train, the door was so heavy against my frail consciousness I was barely able to pull it closed. Even after summoning the last shred of strength that lingered within my bones, a slither remained present in the door.

I hadn’t the faintest idea how many hours were passing, by what I believed was the third sunset I’d witnessed through the crack in the door I was too exhausted to eat the bread that remained half wrapped beside me. The cool metal of the canteen in my hand the only thing anchoring me to reality. The days had begun to pass by with the same routine, it would begin with a searing agony that would eventually become a dull ache, the violent shaking would follow soon after, though at times they arrived in unison. Sweat would bead on my flesh, making me clammy and overheated as the glacial breeze continued to infiltrate the stale air of the carriage.

When the train slowed to a stop just before the fourth sunset, I decided that if I didn’t pull myself from the carriage now, I’d almost certainly die here.

There were bricks beneath my feet comprising the path surrounded by trees, I studied my surroundings through blurry eyes. Berlin. I had been here recently, but the months still seemed to have passed me by. People were celebrating, they were dancing in the street in colorful costumes and singing jovial songs; I remember now, it was the beginning of Fasching, the beginning of Lent, it was February. The streets still bustled, though no one danced, German flowed around me.

I approached a man who sat reading a newspaper on a park bench, asking him, in perfect German, what day it was. He told me it was the 1st of March and then he asked if I was well. I nodded slowly and turned from him, offering nothing further in the way of conversation. Continuing down the street I attempted to make a plan, I had no contacts here, not ones that existed outside of the red rooms grasp. A woman pulled me from my thoughts, she was not speaking to me, she was on the phone, and she spoke English. I glanced toward her noting the wallet that she slipped into her coat pocket, a small map in one hand. She was British. I diverted my path subtly, adjusting my gloves to ensure that no blood stains were visible. For a moment I just listened, having to close my eyes to focus in this altered state, in my head I mimicked her voice, repeating the sentence she’d just spoken over and over.

“Yes, I’ve just arrived in Berlin, it’s absolutely freezing here.”

Again and again, I said it as I approached her, she was ending her phone call when I finally stood before her. She gave me a friendly smile when our eyes met. “Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you, I just heard you speaking English, and well, I don’t speak a word of German, I was wondering if you could help me.” I spoke mimicking her accent.

“Oh of course, it is a tricky language! I’m Anna, what’s your name?”

I had found German to be relatively easy to learn, but I disregarded this. “It certainly is, I’m Natalie, I was hoping you could give me some directions to the nearest pharmacy?” She agreed happily, unfolding her map and beginning to show me what roads to follow to find my destination. I hummed along as she rambled, ignoring her words as I swiftly slipped my hand into her pocket, snatching her wallet and slipping it into my own coat before she’d finished talking. “Thank you so much, really, you’re a saint.” I spoke, forcing a smile just as warm as hers to spread across my face. I turned and began to make my way down the street in the direction she’d told me.

“Oh, and Natalie.” I rolled my eyes at her voice, forcing a smile back onto my face as I turned back to face her.”

“Yes, Anna?”

She stepped toward me, her expression completely calm and collected as she adjusted her jacket. “Might I have my wallet back?”

The smile never fell from my face as I regarded her, I was trained to face any circumstances that may arise on a mission, there was no room for error in the red room I had been forged into something of a perfectionist. “I’m not sure what you mean, your wallet?”

“Yes, love, my wallet which you just nicked.” I told her I hadn’t seen her wallet and I even acted mildly offended that she was assert such a thing. “I must admit you are quite an adept pickpocket, if it were just that perhaps I’d assume you were a mere street hustler and leave it at that after regaining my wallet. Though, I’ve been told I’m something of a connoisseur at separating your run of the mill con artist from someone like you.”

The accent I’d employed remained strong as I queried. “Someone like me?” Glancing at her with furrowed eyebrows as if to query her sanity. “Are you alright, Anna, what a thing to accuse someone of. I’ve not even seen your wallet.”

“See it’s that right there that gives you away, sweetheart.” I raised an eyebrow at her gleeful expression. “You don’t even falter when you lie, no shift in your demeanor, no evident tell of any kind. Really that is talent, kiddo. However, you did make one mistake.” I could feel sweat beading on my head and my surroundings were becoming more fuzzy than clear.  Forcing myself to remain upright, I only prayed I wasn’t becoming paler before her eyes. I asked her once more what on earth she was speaking about. “You said that you spoke no German and yet you understood the map perfectly. The map which has not one word of English on it.”

Had I shown that I’d understood the map? I couldn’t remember, everything was becoming groggy and distant, I had never once been made before, but now, I could barely hear the words Anna spoke to me. Too weak to run, and too ill to continue deceiving her I simply threw her wallet onto the ground in front of her. “Fuck you.” I spoke letting the accent slip from my words, settling back to my regular speaking voice.

“You’re Russian? Are you working for the KGB? Did someone send you here?”

Suddenly I couldn’t feel my legs and my words became slurred. “Fuck off.” I attempted to leave but I stumbled, catching myself against a wall, the cold bricks pressing into gaunt cheeks. 

“Are you alright?”

I pulled the push dagger from my pocket, aiming it toward Anna but evidently the threat was empty as I was no longer able to hold myself up, slumping down to the ground, limbs going limp at my side. My eyelids were inexplicably heavy then, each time I blinked I was plunged into the darkness longer. I could see the woman’s mouth moving as she approached me cautiously though none of her words stuck as the darkness came once more.

Chapter Text

"You’re so wrong dad, she’s obviously a blonde just like mom.”

Another voice responded. “No, much too dark to be blonde, she’s a brunette, like her father.”

There were no clear people speaking, only blurs of flesh and clothing and hair.

A gentle laugh filled the room with warmth. “You two. She’s neither blonde nor brunette, she’s exactly in the center of the two. Too light for brunette, too dark for blonde. She’s all of us combined.” The blurs became sharper then, but it was only a hand, delicate silver jewelry, and manicured nails, smooth flesh dancing across my cheek and shoulder. “She’s just right.”

When my eyes opened once more, I was surrounded by sterile white, a beeping sound echoing through the room. There was no more pain, and I was more aware than I had been for days, more conscious, more alive. When I processed what the source of the beeping was and noticed the needle in my hand, attached to the tubing and machinery, my heart began beating so quickly I was sure it would jump right out of my chest. I leapt upward, pulling at the cords that entrapped me.

The sound of a door opening filled my ears and I shut my eyes tightly. “Нет, нет, не здесь” No, no, not here.

“Natalie, calm down. it’s okay, you’re alright.” The words continued and I leapt over the bed, pressing myself up against the far wall to escape the voice. I slid down the surface, head in hands shielding myself from it all, I could not see the red again, it was too bright, too bloody. “Natalie, open your eyes.” I did not but she was persistent, I opened my eyes just to get her to be quiet. “You’re okay, you’re in the hospital.”

I stiffened. “Why, why not leave me to die in the street, it would have been the merciful act, no?”

Anna touched my shoulder, I wretched away from her grasp. “You are afraid, I understand, but you needn’t be. You needed medical attention, but no one here knows who you are, nor will they question you. I’ve taken care of that, and as long as you don’t intend on waving knives around at me again, you have nothing to fear from me.”

“How kind, so you actually are a saint.” I spat, coldness seeping through every syllable.

She ignored me. “You lost more blood than what is consistent for a class four hemorrhage. That is more than enough to kill a healthy adult, healthy meaning someone not even half as malnourished as you. Yet evidently, here you are. I need you to tell me who you are right now. Let’s start with your name.”

“I already told you.”

“You told me your name is Natalie, all things considered I’m having a hard time believing that. So, let’s try again, what is your name?” I watched her in stoic silence. She sighed. “I’m not going to ask you where you came from because I think I know the answer to that.” I narrowed my eyes at her words, there was a glimmer of something in her eyes that I could not decipher, it was almost sympathetic. “Since you seem hesitant to share, I’ll start. My name is Anna Prentiss, I was born in Rochester, Kent, it’s about an hour out of London if traffic is decent. I’m 28 years old and I’m an agent with Mi6. I have dedicated the last 4 years of my career to finding and helping girls like you. I do want to help you, kid, truly, but you have to be honest with me.”

In the Red Room we spoke of people like her, the girls, and I, never the supervisors; they would have beaten us black and blue if they heard a murmur of that talk. I remember one of the elder girls speaking of what they called doves, agents of some organization or another who wanted to liberate us from the red room. When I was little, I liked to imagine it was true, that one day a glittering force would break through the door and carry me out into the sunlight. However, after twelve years there, twelve years of his voice, his fists, bruised ribs, broken bones, and so much blood; I stopped hoping.

“Alright, how about this… just… tell me a color.”

She could be a double agent or just a liar, she may report back to him. It was probable that this was all an elaborate trick. There was something which Dreykov called переломный момент, the breaking point. It was his personal mission to bring every girl under his advisement to this place, where they were so fractured, he could forge them into whatever he wanted with the leftover shards, I was one girl he’d struggled to push toward it, or more accurately he’d struggled to find mine, whether he did in the end I still didn’t know. I wondered if this was another way to nudge me toward переломный момент.
Anna’s eyes were soft and almost pleading and I decided in that moment, irrespective of her end goal, there was nothing else left for me either way.

Finally, I spoke again. “Red.”

Anna closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, there was once more. Then she opened her eyes and nodded. “Thank you.”

There was much time that passed then but Anna took me from the hospital soon after she’d spoken those words, she did not leave my side once.  She quickly realized that I did not respond well to touch nor to much at all. We stayed in a small apartment where she fed me strange foods that made me feel as though life was curling around me and freeing me of the exhaustion that had laid heavy in my bones. She took me to a gym after hours where she’d help me keep my muscles limber and she would guide me to the boxing bag where I would punch and punch until the exhaustion returned.

She told me she understood. She said that the rage that simmered within me was not a curse and that I was allowed to feel it, she told me it was mine to have.  I did not know if I trusted this woman, nor did I know if I particularly liked her, but when she told me that, for some reason, I believed her.

It was mid-April when I met Abeni for the first time she brought with her technology and tactics which she said would release the red. I did not know what that meant but I let her strap her various things to me as I sat on the makeshift hospital bed. “You will not be restrained, ever. If at any time you wish to stop just let me know, love.” Anna’s voice was gentle as she appeared in my line of site. She laid her hand flat on the bed next to my own, I could feel the warmth radiating from her flesh, but she did not so much as graze me, my eyes stung for a moment. I exhaled deeply as I moved to lay back on the bed, my eyes shot open and there was red everywhere, Anna and Abeni were dappled crimson, as were the walls and the furniture. With tightly clenched fists I glanced at Anna once more.

“Restrain me.” She opened her mouth to protest but I cut her off. “I know I am free. I am asking you to restrain me.” Wordlessly she moved to cuff one wrist and attach it to the railing on the side of the bed, she did the same to my other.

“I think this will be very frightening, it will not be comfortable, nor easy. I’m sorry for what you have been through, and I am sorry for what you are going to go through. What I promise you above all else is that I will not leave you at any point, you will not be alone in this, you have my word on that.”

There was a lump in my throat but in that moment the vulnerability of laying, restrained on that gurney was the last thought on my mind. “Nadia.” She raised her eyebrows at me questioningly. “My name is Nadia.”

“You are going to be just fine, Nadia.”

{6 years later}

New York City, 2012.

I rubbed the arch of my foot over his thigh, smiling pleasantly at him. “I think I know what I like.”

“Women always say that.” His teeth barred at me when he smiled, running his hand over my foot, coming to unbuckle the strap at my ankle. “They like to think they know what they like but really they’re all just creatures in waiting.”

“What are we waiting for?”

 “Someone to tell you what to think, how to feel, what to want.” I watched him intently, studying every imperceptible movement, the inflections in his voice. “Where’d you go, baby? I hope that wasn’t too honest for you.” I realized I’d remained silent for too long, though it was interesting to me that he only wanted my words when he was convincing himself he was right, that he had said something intelligent.

The smile on my lips grew tenfold, bright, and blinding. I bit my lip, popping a cherry into my mouth, holding the stem, and twirling it over my tongue. His gaze on my lips did not skip my attention. “I’m right here.”

“I see.” He leaned forward, caressing my jaw. “I hope I didn’t offend you, beautiful. I just meant-”

“I know what you meant.” My tone remained sweet. His expression faltered at my interrupting his words, I stood then, moving toward him. The silk of my mini dress grazed his shirt as I stood between his legs. “Maybe you should tell me what I like.” I breathed into his ear. His hands came to rest on the backs of my exposed thighs, stroking the flesh there. The cretin before me was so self-absorbed I wasn’t concerned he’d question my antics.

He looked up at me. “You seem like the type of girl who says she doesn’t need anyone.” I raised a solitary eyebrow, smile still very much present as I swung a leg over his, coming to straddle his lap. His hands sat at my hips as he continued. “But like most, you just want to be looked after.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, humming as a sign for him to continue. “Is that what you want, baby girl? You want to be pampered? I could do that, I could look after you really well, sweetie.” His hand slipped under my dress as if to punctuate his words. I threw my head back as a giggle escaped my throat.

“I don’t think you can give me what I want,” I responded, licking my lips enticingly.

His smirk widened in response. “I don’t think you know what you want, but I can tell you.”

“What do I want?”

His hands were all over me, though, I barely felt his touch. A long time ago I’d learned how to become a separate entity, not one in body and mind. “You want me to take care of you, and I will. If you were my girl, you’d never want for anything. You could me my girl, if you wanted.”

“How?”

He gathered my hair behind my head, holding it in a makeshift ponytail emphatically. “Well, there’s more than just one step but you seem smart enough, I think you can figure out the first one.”

“I am a smart girl.” I murmured, lips grazing over his ear once more. “Do you want me to tell you what makes me so smart?” He nodded. “I can read people, really, really well.” With each word my hands moved into position. He furrowed his eyebrows at my words, though it was evident that my sweet smile reassured him.

“Can you just? Well, what exactly have you read from me?”

I hummed. “You’re very sure of yourself.” His smile grew. “But it’s just a façade. You like to feel powerful, so you sit in your overpriced suits, and you tell women how you know better than them because you know if you give them a chance to think for themselves, they’ll realize what a pathetic prick you really are.” He attempted to stand then, though my grip on him prevented it. I pushed my foot off of the ground so that the chair fell backwards, his now trapped beneath me. “You think you’re a big man because you have all this money, all this power. What good does it do you now?” He called for his guards but I simply pressed the button on the bangle that hung from my wrist, and they were convulsing and falling to their knees, unconscious in minutes. I jumped to my feet swiftly. “They can’t help you, sweetheart.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“What do you mean, baby, I thought I was your girl.” He stood to his feet, and I quickly dodged the hit he attempted to throw at me. “Does this mean there won’t be a second date?” I kicked him in the stomach, dodging each attack he launched and landing hit after hit of my own. His nose was bleeding, and he was panting by the time he threw all caution to the wind and lunged at me. I spun, delivering a roundhouse kick to his face, landing him on his backside.

“What, are you going to kill me? You really think you’ll get away with this you psychopathic whore? Because you won’t!”

I threw my head back, letting out a breathy laugh. “Men tend to think that don’t they?” I kicked his arm out from under him as he attempted to get back up. “Always overestimating your importance.”

“Why are you doing this?!”

“With so many possible options, which one could it be?” I tapped my chin in feigned thought. “Perhaps I have qualms with being spoken over? Or told I need someone to tell me what to think. Or maybe, just maybe it’s something to do with the billions of dollars you stole from those charities you plaster your name on.”

He scoffed, attempting to crawl away from me. I followed him slowly, sipping from my champagne glass. “It’s called embezzlement you stupid bitch, and you’re the one overestimating, you really think you’ve got what it takes to kill someone?”

“Oh, embezzlement, that sounds fancy…” I grabbed his arm, pulling it up behind him before stomping on the outside of his elbow, bones crunching under my skilled limbs. “Don’t worry,” I spoke loudly to be heard over his cries of agony. “I’m not going to kill you, silly. Actually, I’m not even really here for you, I just really don’t like you.” He choked on the cries being ripped from him. “But please, do correct me again, I have a feeling it’ll bode well for you.” At some point, he fell unconscious from the pain, and I skipped off toward the room hidden behind a large, luxurious bookcase. Fluttering my fingers over the array of books I finally found the one I was looking for and pulled down, triggering the door to open. I leaned against the frame and watched the accountant cower in the corner. “Hey, sailor.” I beamed at him as I strode into the room, he pressed himself as far back against the wall as possible.

“Please, please don’t kill me, I swear I’m just the numbers guy, I don’t know anything.”

I giggled at him as I collected the items named in the file. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.” I sung gesturing for him to follow me, he did. “Now I do apologize sincerely, for all this mess.” I nodded toward the unconscious bodies of the guards and his employer before turning back to him. “Oh, and sorry about this next part to.” I added, grabbing him and swiftly hitting him in the exact place in his neck that would signal his brain to send him unconscious. When that was done, I unlocked the hotel room door for the other agents to enter and take him and his boss into custody.

Tightening the stolen coat around my scantily clad body I finally made it to headquarters. This assignment had been a particular pain in my ass, weeks of excruciating work leading to this very evening. I tossed the bag of documents and various items from the list onto the desk before me, gaining Fury’s attention.

“Well hello to you too.”

I sighed exasperatedly, draping myself over the lounge chair in his office. “That guy was disgusting!”

“My sincerest apologies that you weren’t tasked with taking down some kind of prince charming.” Rolling my eyes at his tone I dragged my fingers through my windswept hair. Nick looked through the items in silence as I awaited his dismissal. “Not bad, kid.”

“Not bad?”

He sent me a sharp glare. “You know you’re a good agent, don’t be a dick about it.” The corners of my lips turned upward. I leaned back onto the headrest, shutting my eyes as he continued. “Speaking of, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” I raised my eyebrows. Eyes still shut tightly. “We’ve discussed in the past my idea for a task force… or rather initiative.”

My eyes opened once more. “Absolutely not.”

“Excuse you, you don’t know what the hell I was gonna say.”

I met his eyes then. “You want me to join your little boy band, with metal man and American dad.”

“Cute. It was a complete oversight to ever introduce you to American television.” I scoffed at him, cracking my neck. “It’s not just Stark and Cap.”

“Ah yes, how could I possibly forget the green one, quite the entourage you’ve culminated.”

This was not the first time Fury had mentioned his little gang, nor was it the first time he was prodding me to join it. “It’s not just them, Nadia. I wanted people on the inside that were a little less… unpredictable. I’ve got two agents joining as well, I trust you and I’d really like to make it three.” I shrugged with a quiet sigh. “Don’t you want to know who the agents are?”

“There’s nothing I’d like to know more.”

He chose to ignore my insolence, as he often did. “Clint Barton, who you’ve met before, and Natasha Romanoff. Another familiar face to you if I’m not mistaken.”

It was as though for a moment all of the air was sucked from the room. I had not heard that name in a very long time. Whether my feelings were evident on my face or Fury had merely known that this would be a sobering piece of information to hear he chose to leave the matter there. Before I left his office, he told me to sleep on it before making my decision, I barely heard him.

Chapter Text

“My love?” Her voice was groggy when the line connected prompting me to check the time on my watch.

“You were sleeping, I’m sorry it’s 10pm here so it’s…”

“3am here.” She laughed. “You never have to apologize for giving me a ring, hearing your voice is worth a little lost sleep.”

I’ve lived here for four years; you’d think I’d be used to the time difference by now. It was still strange to me, living so far from Anna. It was not a simple task to describe what she meant to me. As it turns out, she was not a liar, she did stick by me, Abeni did help me release the red and it was the most terrifying experience of my life. There were weeks when I felt nothing but terror so pungent my body stopped functioning, there was agony for months, I lived inside my mind, within those four red walls, until I didn’t. It was not all at once, a single treatment and I was normal, I’d known nothing but Dreykov and the red room from the age of five, it did not leave so easily; it clung to the very essence of my being and still sometimes I blink and for a moment all I see is red. It stuck with me, every moment of it, I live it and I carry it every day. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be completely free of it, but I am sure, with not a single shred of doubt, that Anna saved me.

When I sit with it late at night it is no longer Dreykov’s voice which rings in my ears but Anna’s. It is her telling me I am not alone, that the rage is there but it is not a hindrance, it is powerful, and it is mine.

“I just finished an assignment.”

She hummed. “The arsehole who embezzled foreign aid money?”

“The very same.”

“Top job, Nards.” I was silent then as I picked at a stray thread on the coat I wore. “What is it?”

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water. “It… He… Fury wants me to join his stupid initiative.”

“I heard about that, he’s got some fancy name for it and everything. He’s asked you before, no? There’s something more that’s upsetting you.”

I nodded even though she could not see me. It was uncanny to me to have someone who knew me so well, someone who could almost read me when not a single other soul had ever been able to, well save for one other person, the one I still dreamed of every night. “He told me who was on board, I already knew about Tony Stark, the Captain, Banner and I’d heard rumors about Clint but then he said someone else.” She was silent on the other end, the thing about knowing someone as well as she’d come to know me, is that it’s a two-way street. “You knew.”

“Natasha Romanoff? I suspected.”

“But you didn’t think to share your suspicions?”

She sighed and I heard shuffling on her end, she’d gotten out of bed evidently. “I’m so sorry, Nadia, I didn’t want to keep it from you, but Fury said he wanted to be sure about her joining the team before anything was discussed with other agents.”

“Other agents? Anna, I am not some faceless S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, we don’t keep things from each other.”

“I know that… I know, I hate that I let you be blindsided, I’m sorry but I didn’t want to interfere in all the bureaucratic bullshit. I just wanted to let things be set in stone before I even worried you with any of it.”

I shook my head, beginning to pace the floor of my little studio apartment. “ерунда” Bullshit. “You lied to me!”  

“I did not lie, Nadia, I withheld information. It was wrong, I know that I said I’m sor-”

“No, stop, stop apologizing, you never do anything you don’t want to do. Don’t use your semantics shit on me, I’m not your subordinate, we are family, that’s what you said right?”

My stomach was churning, heart thrumming against my sternum. I slide down the wall, clutching at the roots of my hair. “We are family, Nadia.”

“No! You are just like them. That bureaucratic shit, that’s you, Anna!” I was being facetious; I knew that, and I hated it, but I couldn’t stop. It was like there was white-hot venom pumping through my veins where my blood used to be. “We are not family, if we were family, you would not keep something like this from me.”

“Nadia I-”

I cut her off. “Fuck you, Anna.” Hanging up abruptly and throwing my phone across the room.

She called back, repeatedly. I chose to throw myself back into work rather than answer her calls.

Two weeks passed, I completed a new assignment and avoided Fury’s incessant encouragements about me joining the Avengers initiative. When Anna stopped calling, I was initially worried, it wasn’t like her to give up so easily, but then I remembered that she’d told me she’d be away on a weeklong covert assignment. It wasn’t normal for us to go this long without speaking, though I was certainly not going to pick up the phone, not after what she had done. When two weeks turned into three, I wondered if I was even still angry at her, or if I was just being vindictive at this point. I’ve been told I have, rage issues… to put it lightly. On occasion, more frequently than I’d like to admit, I would become so completely encapsulated in my fury that there was no reason in the world that appealed to me. It was as though, suddenly, everything would become so dark and infuriating that not even the brightest light could get through to me. I’d had therapists before, they weren’t particularly effective, not when I didn’t trust anyone enough to explain how that blinding rage which simmered away within me had come to be. Anna and Fury had nudged me to continue attending but I’d found sitting in those luxurious offices whilst having a perfectly polished individual poke and prod at my brain to be more grating than any other endeavor. However, if I wanted to remain in Fury’s good graces, and more importantly in his employ I had to seek some kind of aid to my particular inflictions.

“I was 16 when it happened. I didn’t sleep properly for months afterward, every night I would just lie in bed and picture his face, the blood, I couldn’t focus on school nothing really seemed to matter to me anymore. It was like this huge gray cloud had been cast over everything suddenly.”

Peer support group was my chosen path. Was it infallible? No. Did any of these people have past comparable to mine? Also no. PTSD support group was a complex thing, there were times when it felt undoubtedly pointless to me. How could I relate to any of these regular people or their regular problems, but then I started listening, albeit begrudgingly, yet nonetheless I listened, I heard their stories, and I was no longer so sure of our differences. There weren’t stories of the red room or anything remotely akin to it, however, it was the way that their experiences affected them which stuck with me. The words they were able to attribute to the emotions which lived inside of them that kept me coming back. Despite, my initial reservations, the PTSD group helped, more than anything else I’d ever taken part in. Perhaps it was something to do with the overarching feeling of sitting in that circle, listening to people pour their hearts out, hearing the most painful moments of their existence, and knowing that here, in this old, sordid room, there was an understanding so profound it was almost impossible to describe. For just a moment it was as if you were no longer alone in it all.

“It’s interesting how you describe the gray cloud which was cast over everything. It is common for us to associate our feelings, our pains, with colors. I suppose it helps us categorize the moments. It could be interesting to go around the circle and say what color you see the more painful parts of your past in.”

As each group member shared around the circle, choruses of gray, blue, and black were named. Some people going into slightly more detail as to how things looked to them, I listened to each person intently, taking in their words and considering them. When it was my turn to share, I was almost startled, I realized in that moment that in all the months that I’d been attending this particular group, not once had I shared. Glancing around the circle, a few eyes sat on me, waiting patiently for me to speak up, while others looked elsewhere, alleviating some of the tremendous pressure. I swallowed twice before looking toward my hands.

“No one needs to feel pressured in the slightest to share, this is all at your own individual pace, there are no right and wrong ways to heal.”

I blinked rapidly, wanting this to be over, yet also not wanting them to move on before I mustered the strength to speak. It was hard, excruciatingly so. I felt as though I’d swallowed glass in that moment. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes lightly, gripping the seat of my fold-out chair so tightly I was surprised I didn’t split a nail right to the cuticle. Still, there was silence in the room, still, no one seemed inconvenienced in the slightest. “Red. Everything was red.” I spoke up when I finally manage to find my voice.

Sitting on the steps in front of the building where the group was held, I stared at the screen of my phone, sitting open on the oh-so-familiar contact. The air was glacial around me, winter sitting heavy in the streets of New York, biting at my flesh and reminding me of the much more unforgiving climate I’d grown accustomed to in my youth. The line connected on the third ring. There was silence for a long while, eventually, I could take no more of it. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize, you were right. We don’t keep things from each other, our trust is built on honesty and faith and I will never keep something like that from you again. I was being an arse, I just- and this is not an excuse in the slightest, but I need you to know that I only ever wanted to do right by you, I thought if Natasha didn’t end up joining the team, telling you would have re-opened old wounds for no reason. I was trying to protect you, but I shouldn’t have done it by deceiving you. I am so sorry, Nadia. I mean it.”

She did not need to explain herself, not really. I knew she had valid reasoning; all she had ever done from the moment we’d met was look after me. She had never once lied to me; she was the only person in the entire world I could say that about.

“We are family, I’m sorry I said we aren’t, this is hard.”

“I know.”

I sighed heavily. “You think I should call Nick Fury, don’t you?” Anna’s light laugh filled the line; it was enough of an answer for me. “I do not want any part in his little band of merry men.”

“I don’t think you should do anything you don’t want to, ever. That said, I think this is different to what you’re expecting, Nards.” She paused momentarily, I remained silent, awaiting what she would say next. “You know how I feel about Nick’s initiatives, but this feels different. I think it could be the real deal, admittedly it’s a motley crew, but I see something there, and maybe I’m just an eternal optimist, but I really think it’s something that could change the world.”

…

“I’m glad you came around, Nadia.”

A scoff fell from my lips before I could stop it. “I did not come around to anything, this is a meeting only.”

“Of course.” The glint in Nick’s eye aggravated me immensely as if he knew something I did not. The moment I stepped into the room I was dubious, motley crew was an apt description.

The old war hero who’d been frozen for a lifetime, the meek scientist who on occasion turned green, the renegade madman who decided to don one of his own inventions to fight crime, and two S.H.I.E.L.D agents. I nodded to Clint before my eyes fell on the woman next to him, the woman I had not seen in 10 years, my closest friend in the red room. There was a time when I considered her family, her, and Yelena, it was the three of us together against all else. Now, looking at her had my blood turning to ice in my veins. I did not know what to say to her, she had escaped the red room before me, I was so much younger. There had been a time when I’d resented Natasha for leaving us, for abandoning us in that place. For a while, I blamed her, loathed her for how much worse things became after. The interest Dreykov had taken in my particular potential as a trained killer alienating me as his prodigy, his star pupil. I did not know if I still resented her for it, part of me wondered why she never came back for us, but another part understands more wholly than I’d ever understood anything in my life. In all fairness, I too had left a life behind, Yelena. I thought about her constantly, though, my defection from the red room had not exactly been planned, I believed I was dead, everyone else believed the same. There was no going back for me.

“Team, this is agent Nadia Pimenova. Here at S.H.I.E.L.D, we call her Shadow Singer” The codename made a shiver tremble down my spine. It was not a name that had been earned lightly, not for positive attributes, but one that had been selected after I’d proved through a penchant for psychological warfare, luring out the darkest side of a target to make them confess or simply to win the fight. “I believe Nadia will be an asset to this team, however, she’s not entirely convinced we have much of a team yet, so let’s sell her on the idea.” I rolled my eyes heavily at Fury’s words.

The captain was first to step toward me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Agent, I’m Steve Rogers.” He held his hand out for me to shake, though I simply glanced down at it with an unimpressed look.

“Really? Steve Rogers, I did not know.” A snort sounded, causing my eyes to fall on none other than Tony Stark who sat on the conference table with a cool, disinterested countenance. “Are we not supposed to be somewhat enemies? What with you being Captain America.” I put extra emphasis on his title, splaying my hands out for theatrical effect. “And me being… Well, there’s not an easy way to say this but, a Russian.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “The cold war was a little after my time, kid.” It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “I think you’ve got me wrong. My allegiance to America is to freedom and liberty, not an arms race.” He was exceptionally boring I decided in that moment. Boring but harmless.

“Alright, gramps, I’m pretty sure she was just giving you a hard time.” Stark cut in holding his hand out to me also, I rolled my eyes at the gesture, why do people insist on this menial social behavior of shaking hands? “What? You trying it on me too? I get it, the whole cold and perpetually jaded thing you’ve got going on, honestly it reminds me of me. Which is why, unfortunately for you, it won’t work on me.” I remained silent at his words.

“She doesn’t like being touched.”

My body tensed at the sound of her voice. I remembered when we met for the first time, how could I forget? It had been so terribly cold for hours and I hadn’t the slightest idea where I was, nor where I’d come from. I was sitting in the corner of a shipping container; I suspected that I had been there for days. Days without food, sharing water with other girls who were in there as well. Natasha had come and sat beside me, holding my hand and assuring me it would be alright. She was older than me and while she was afraid, she seemed to know what was coming, a little blonde girl sat on the other side of her, Yelena. I was 5 years old, and I’d never felt fear like that before, but Natasha somehow made me think that just maybe, everything would be alright. She never once let go of my hand.

I could not avoid it any longer, my eyes met hers finally, she looked different, more grown up. She’d been 18 the last time I’d seen her. “You sound different, still you but there’s a little more American there now.”

“You sound the same.”

She smiled slightly at my curt tone, but her expression turned mildly sullen after a moment. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I stood silently for a moment, not quite sure how to respond to her. “And you are the green one,” I gestured toward Banner before continuing, “how lovely we are all acquainted now.”

Fury took the reins then, sitting us all down and giving what I supposed was meant to be a pep talk to promote camaraderie between us. I was still unconvinced that this group would ever be a team. Whether it was sheer morbid interest or some kind of unconscious faith I found myself offering Nick Fury a look that he understood meant, ‘I suppose this will do’.

I leaned against the side of the building; eyes closed as I breathed in the particular smell of New York City. A little acrid with air pollution, and the smell of hot dogs from the nearby street vendor wafting toward me on the icy breeze. There was a dampness that sat heavy around me as the frost melted and drained away into the gutters. The sounds of traffic and the buzz of chatter on the streets anchored me to the city which enveloped me, it was perfect. My eyes opened as footsteps neared me, I could feel her eyes on me long before she spoke.

“This suits you.” I glanced toward her. “New York.” She clarified.

Silence sat heavy between us for a long moment.

“How long have you been an agent?”

“A while… you?”

I laughed dryly. “A while.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw her lips turn up. “Touché.” It was strange, to be standing here beside her under these circumstances. She wore a pencil skirt, and her hair was loose, I wondered if she still had nightmares about the Red Room. “How’d you get out.” Her voice cut through the silence like a knife through paper. I met her gaze, mouth remaining shut. “Sorry. You don’t have to tell me. This is weird, I’m not really sure what to say, Nadia.”

The windows rattles as rain pinged off the glass, the air was balmy, humid as summer bared its teeth. It was my first time in Portugal and my body was unused to the heat. I focused on what I could hear around me, rain, thunder, wind whistling, and running water. There was an artificial yellow glow streaming out through the crack in the door, beneath it stood Natasha, her red hair pinned neatly behind her ears as she wrung out a cloth in the dingy old sink. I pressed my hand harder to my leg, the once white towel turning crimson, today was my 13^th birthday and I’d never been shot before. I had been punched, slapped, kicked, even stabbed but never shot. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before, and not at all how I’d expected it. I remember the first time I shot someone, I was 11 and I’d thought it would be just the same as shooting a target; it wasn’t. Having watched others get shot and having pulled the trigger before myself I thought I knew what it would feel like to receive the bullet.

At first, I hadn’t felt anything. In training, they tell us even when there is pain you must keep going, you must finish the mission. Pain is temporary, pain is weakness leaving the body, that is what they say in the Red Room. I wondered if maybe the pain had waited for my signal to begin, waited until the mission was done to claw its way to the surface and make its self-known. Now there was nothing but pain, it burned like fire licking at my flesh and tendons.

“Don’t pass out.” Natasha pressed the cool, wet cloth to my forehead that was beading with sweat. She watched me cautiously for a moment before moving to my leg. I flinched when her hands landed on the side of my leg. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you, but I need to bandage your leg, so you don’t bleed out.” I lifted the towel to see the hole in my suit that revealed a dark circle of marred flesh. “It’ll be okay, I think the bleeding’s stopped so that means it hasn’t hit anything too bad. I’ll just take the bullet out and we’ll wrap it up, when we get back, they’ll stitch it properly.” She pulled out some tweezers from the first aid kit she’d found going to work on getting the bullet out of my thigh. I gritted my teeth as the sharp metal scraped my wound. “It hurts, I know. Don’t worry I’ve done this a couple times before. So, where are you from?” I glanced up at her, my chest rising and falling rapidly as pain seared through me. “As in, where did you come from before you got taken to the Red Room with Yelena and me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh… I don’t really know where I’m from either.” Tears gathered in my eyes as I watched her, it felt like the burning would never end. She met my eyes for just a second. “Have you ever been to America?” I shook my head at her. “Yelena and I were there for a little while, it’s so weird. They eat this food that’s like these little fried potato balls, they call them tater tots.”

She did not seem even slightly bothered by the stickiness of my blood that now coated her fingers. “T-tater tots?” She nodded.

“And they have these little cakes that come in plastic wrap and they’re like sticky and beige, guess what they're called.” I shrugged as best I could. “Twinkies.” It was a strange concept, a beige cake in plastic wrap. “But that’s not the best part, inside of them is this super sugary sweet cream. They are disgusting and delicious all at once.”

I felt my lips upturn as she spoke, a sound like a laugh leaving me. When I looked back down, she was almost finished bandaging my leg, the bullet laying on the white towel beside me, a sheen of my blood gleaming in the light. “That… that sounds good.”

She nodded, meeting my eyes once more as she finished tying the bandage. “It was.” Her hand was only slightly larger than mine as she squeezed around my fingers. “And one day… we’ll both get to have Twinkies.”

“And tater tots too?” I could feel liquid streaming down my cheeks as she nodded, in that moment it was hard to tell if it was tears or sweat but it didn’t really matter.

“And tater tots too.”

I rolled my neck, exhaling heavily, my air came in a white puff into the street before me. “You were right.” My eyes fell to my feet as I spoke, her gaze burned into the side of my head, but I chose not to meet it. “Disgusting and delicious… all at once.” For a beat, there was silence between us again.

A gentle laugh filled my ears then. “Fucking Twinkies.” Another beat passed between us.

“They think I am dead.” I finally said.

“You faked it.”

I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. “Not on purpose.” Finally, I met her gaze. “I thought I was too.”

“I’m glad you’re not.” There was an expression on her face that I did not understand, sadness, perhaps. “I’m sorry.” Guilt, I realized.

I shook my head again. “It was death… The Red Room. Don’t apologize for living.”

There was a tear streaming down her cheek when I looked at her again. “But I let you die.” I watched her, I wondered if this were just something she needed to say, something that had occupied her mind for a long time. It was hard, almost impossible for me as I reached out, my hand hovering over her shoulder. I had been punched, slapped, kicked, even stabbed… and shot, yet this was what terrified me. Slowly, cautiously, hesitantly, I let my hand fall to her shoulder, squeezing for just a moment before I pulled away and walked back toward the building where Fury was waiting.

Chapter Text

2015

There was snow spattered across the landscape, a deep chill sitting in the air. There had already been complaints about how cold it was here; I hadn’t been particularly fazed by it. There was no cold that ever lived up to the Russian winters, nothing that compared to the chill that sat in my bones when I laid motionless in the carriage of that train all those years ago. I scanned the trees surrounding me, a flash of red hair, Natasha.

“What’s your position, Nadia?”

I glanced through the trees in the opposite direction spotting the red, blue, and silver shield. “To your left, Cap.” I leaned back against a tree trunk, glancing out to survey my path forward. “I will go through the trees and catch up with Stark on the ground. I need cover past that mechanical gun.”

Clint’s voice filled the comm a moment later. “Got it, on your signal.”

“No time like the present.” I pushed off the tree I’d been settled by sprinting between the trunks, my movements were quiet and calculated. I heard the swish of an arrow firing toward the machinery, but it was enveloped by a blur of blue that was gone just as quickly as it appeared. I narrowed my eyes. “Hey, did anyone else see th-” Before the words had even left my mouth my body came into contact with something solid, meeting the frozen ground soon after, the air knocked out of me from the force.

I heard Cap ask my position over the comm, but I did not offer a response, surveying my surroundings for any sign of what I had collided with.  “You did not see that coming?” A voice taunted, though, the area surrounding me remained seemingly empty.

“What the fuck?!”

“Language.” Rogers reprimanded.

My eyes widened at his words, still there was no sign of the force which had knocked me from my feet. “Oh, my sincerest apologies, grandfather. I am just being attacked by something I cannot see but I will mind my language next time.”

“A Russian? Interesting.”

I whipped around in the direction of the voice but, again, there was nothing.

“What are you hiding from? It is just little old me, no need to be shy, road runner. Come out, come out, wherever you are.” I moved to perch; one hand pressed to the icy gravel as I scanned for signs of life. “Or are you afraid?”

A scoff bounced off the trees. “Afraid of what?”

My lips curved upwards, so naïve, so proud; typical man, cannot stand not having the last word. “Afraid that if you slow down you will have to face me.” The moment the words left my lips I tossed one of my blades toward the voice that had answered. Wind whipped around me, and the blue streak reappeared, gripping my knife by its handle just before it impaled him.

“That was not very nice.”

It was a boy, well a man, with silver hair that was dark at the roots. I narrowed my eyes at him, taking in his pale complexion and the dark circles under his eyes. He was quite handsome, unfortunately. I tilted my head, the small smirk never falling from my lips. “I’m sorry.” I moved to grab the other blade holstered at my hip, but he was faster; much, much faster. He grasped my wrist tightly, yanking it away from my belt.

“I don’t think that apology was very genuine.” I glanced at his hand which still clutched my wrist, breathing a light laugh before moving swiftly around him, twisting in his grip to bend his arm unnaturally until he loosened his grip, at which point, I dropped to the ground and swept his feet from under him.

When he was down, I pinned him to the snow-clad ground. “You didn’t see that coming?” He grinned at my choice of words and the taunting tone which coated them. Before I could blink, I was enveloped within the blur of blue and laying on my back beneath the silver-haired man.

“I like you.”

“You’re a bastard!” He only continued to beam down at me, even chuckling slightly at my fury. “Stop using your powers and fight me properly you prick!”

“You are very pretty. Although, you’re quite mean and you seem to have some anger management problems… that might actually make you more attractive. It’s hard to say.” A loud crash sounded from within the trees prompting the both of us to glance toward the source. Hulk had gone bounding into the bunker attached to the mechanical gun, blowing it to smithereens. The momentary distraction worked to my advantage as I freed my legs from beneath the man and kicked him off of me. When I was on my feet once more, I pulled the knife from my belt, taking up a defensive stance. “As much as I’d love to continue this… really, I would love to… I must be going now.” Before I had the chance to respond or strike him, he was gone in yet another streak of blue.

I saw Barton laying on the ground with Nat at his side moments before I heard Cap’s voice over the comms. “There’s an enhanced in the field.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” I jammed my knife back into its holster and made my way over to Nat and Clint.

Eventually, Stark collected the scepter and finally, we were able to re-board the jet. Barton had a nasty wound burned into his side. “Does not look so bad to me.” I shrugged teasingly as I surveyed the damage.

“Yeah, right, thank you so much for that. Unfortunately, we can’t all walk off being hit with a laser beam like I’m sure you could, Nads.” I grinned at Clint’s taunt.

“What is it they say? I am built differently.”

He scoffed. “One of these days I am going to kick your ass in sparring, and you won’t be so tough then.” I gave him an indignant look causing him to laugh, a hiss of pain cutting the sound of abruptly.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Robin Hood, you cannot learn what I was born with.” I smirked taking a seat behind Stark who snorted at my words.

Clint would be fine, that is what the doctor had said. As for the Maximoffs, Agent Hill had informed us about their past, the bombing, the experimentation. It sat heavy on my mind as I headed back to my room in the tower. I understood why they’d thrown themselves at Strucker’s mercy, more than I’d like to admit. When I was in the Red Room, I knew nothing, but Dreykov’s will. I hated him with every fiber of my being, so much that hate did not suffice to describe what I felt toward him. I loathed him so deeply that it felt as though my blood became so molten my very being would erupt until I was nothing, but rage and hatred incarnate. And yet, I obeyed, for 12 years, I obeyed.

When I got out of the shower and began toweling my hair dry, I grabbed ahold of the measly little purple ball that had been given to me by Bruce. It was ridiculous really, a stress ball? What did I need that for? As if a little rubber ball filled with God knows what could help me destress. I think it had been a good-humored joke, but he had smiled earnestly when he’d handed it to me, as if he were really trying to help.

A knock sounded against my door, pulling me from my thoughts. “It’s me, Nat, can I come in?” I told her she could. A moment later her red curls filled my view as she entered, coming to sit in on of the armchairs placed across the room from my bed. “Still no decorations, huh?”

“What should I decorate with? Lava lamps and band posters?”

She smiled; one eyebrow raised at me as she began to shake her head. “Why not? You could put up a little Ed Sheeran poster in the corner there, I think that’d look really good.” I rolled my eyes at her words. “No, that wouldn’t be very you.” She spoke. I hummed, walking toward the floor to ceiling windows that had been installed in the room. It had been an adjustment, certainly, though when I’d agreed, begrudgingly, to move into the Avengers tower, Stark had asked me whether I would like a room with a view or one without. I’d thought it an odd question then, but there was an unfamiliar gentleness to his tone that prompted me to respond seriously. I told him that I did not care for a view, but I’d like windows, light. He hadn’t pressed me, for that I was grateful.

“What would be me?” I asked, watching the traffic as it petered out below, so tiny from this height. Natasha was silent then. “I am asking, because I do not know.”

When more silence came after my words, I sat in it, allowing it to fill every crevice of the room. She did not need to say anything, neither did I. We both understood, in that room, in that moment, we knew each other better than anyone else ever could.

…

I smoothed my hand over my little black dress, zipping up my knee-high black boots and straightening my blazer as I stood back to my full height. I enjoyed events like these, where there would be talking and music, for so long my life had silence. I rather liked when it became loud.

The moment I stepped out of my room, Natasha appeared, insisting that we take a picture. Hesitantly, I moved beside her and smiled briefly for the camera. “Why must you inflict this torture on me?”

“I personally would like to commemorate the small things, grumpy.”

With a grumble, I turned to walk toward the party. Music filled my ears and soon I was surrounded by people, drinking and talking, laughing as though there was nothing so bad in the world. I sat near the bar, watching Cap talk to the old men decorated with war medals and strange hats.

He offered me a warm smile as he grabbed a beer from the bar. “Is it hard for you to see your friends now that they are all so…” I trailed off, searching for the appropriate word.

“Old?”

I shrugged before nodding. “When you are still as you were before?”

He looked ahead at the shelves filled with liquor bottles in thought. “It can be. I mean these guys I grew up around, they lived full lives while I was in the ice. It’s not easy to see everything that you lost laid out before you.”

I was quiet for a while, taking in his words. “Do you wish it was different?” He met my eyes then, raising an eyebrow. “I mean if you could trade it, one for the other. Would you choose to be like them?”

He exhaled deeply, rubbing his thumb over the condensation that gathered around the neck of the glass bottle. “Honestly? No.” I studied him as he spoke, unsure if I believed him. “What about you? Is it hard for you to be around Nat?”

I asked him what he meant.

“Well, the two of you knew each other before the Avengers and Fury, I’m guessing you share a tough past… I don’t expect you to tell me about it, but is it hard for you to be around her now?” I looked away, combing through my hair with my fingers at I watched the bubbles rise in my glass. “Oh, come on! You get to ask the hard hitters, but you won’t answer any? I thought we’d moved past that. You know after the whole S.H.I.E.L.D, Hydra thing where you pointed a gun at me and asked how you were supposed to trust that we were on the same side.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling a smile fighting to break through. “It was hard… once. Maybe it still is. Sometimes I think so much of life is hard that I cannot tell the difference anymore between what is painful and what is not.” It was honest, vulnerable, more so than I’d ever been with him and I wasn’t really sure what prompted me to tell him that. I knew I trusted him as a teammate he’d shown me his loyalty and righteousness when S.H.I.E.L.D collapsed but I wondered what had prompted me to offer something so honest and real about myself to him. He was quiet at my admission, though I didn’t feel judged. Surprisingly, as almighty and haughty as I’d once thought Steve Rogers to be, there was not many moments when he’d made me feel as though he were condemning me.

“I know what you mean.” When our eyes met there was an understanding that passed between us, a kind of gentleness that I did not take for granted.

I sat on the floor by Agent Hill as the boys discussed Thor’s hammer. “Whatever man! It’s a trick.” Clint spoke rolling his eyes.

“Please, be my guest.” Thor gestured toward Mjölnir, prompting Clint to jump to his feet and approach it.

“Clint you’ve had a tough week, we won’t hold it against you if you can’t get it up.” Tony taunted. A smile curved across my lips as the hammer did not even shift under either man’s ministrations. The smile turned into a small laugh which had their eyes turning to me expectantly.

Stark raised an eyebrow at me. “By all means Pimenova, if you think you’ve got what it takes…” He nodded toward the hammer.

“Oh, I’m quite alright. I pride myself on being unworthy of big metal tools.” Thor scoffed at my words beginning to lecture me on the godly nature of the hammer and worthiness and so on and so forth. I lifted my glass to my lips, needing alcohol to hear this whole bit again. The bubbly liquid touched my lips but went no further. I sat there, champagne flute to my lips, head tilted slightly as the soft hum of the next song filled my ears.

Say, “nighty-night” and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me

While I’m alone and blue as can be

“What is this?” I turned my narrowed gaze on the group behind me; Tony, Nat and Steve.

Stark hummed. “What you’re not a Mama Cass fan?”

“Didn’t take you for the ‘dream a little dream of me’ type Tony.” Nat piped up teasingly.

My heart was racing but I didn’t understand why.

Sweet dreams ‘til sunbeams find you

The air was warm, and balmy but not humid. It must have been spring because everything was so bright, so alive. I sat on the sun-kissed concrete, the smooth surface pressing heat into the backs of my legs that were exposed by the shorts I wore. Little legs with brightly colored sneakers. I wiped at my cheeks with sticker-clad hands, there were tears.

Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you

There was a woman, I think. I could not see her, only glimpses of her hair that fell into her face as she knelt before me. She wore silver rings that glittered in the sun as she pressed a light pink Band-Aid over the cut on my knee.

“Nadia, is everything alright?” Nat’s voice cut through the memory, dragging me back to the room where everyone was still chatting amongst themselves, but her eyes were set on me. “Nadia?” She spoke again when I didn’t respond. I met her gaze then, nodding briefly and clearing my throat before downing a rather large gulp of champagne.

A loud ringing sound echoed off the walls around us then, followed by mechanical whirring as a dismantled robot appeared dripping black oil over the marble floors.

“How could you be worthy? You’re all killers.” It spoke. We all looked to Stark who called to Jarvis. “I’m sorry, I was asleep. Or I was a-dream…” The robot continued as Stark clicked at his screen, mumbling about reboots and buggy suits. “I had to kill the other guy. He was a good guy.”

I stood then, watching the metal man sway on his feet. “You killed someone?”

“Wouldn’t have been my first call, but down in the real world we’re faced with ugly choices.”

“Who sent you?” Asked Thor.

Suddenly a scratchy recording of Stark’s voice was being emitted from the hunk of metal. “Ultron?” Banner spoke looking toward the other man.

The robot began speaking about a mission. “What mission?” Nat asked.

“Peace in our time.”

The moment he finished speaking multiple robots breached the wall, beginning to attack.

I dove for the stairs, perching halfway up and slipping the gun from my jacket. When I had one of the robots in my sights I reached over the banister and fired at him. It was thrown backward slightly but remained steadfast in his goal, now setting its sights on me. “дрисня” Shit. It flew directly at me, tackling me back into the shattered glass. I grabbed it by the shoulders and kicked it in the torso, sending it tumbling over me. Swiftly pushing myself back to my feet, I wrapped one arm around its neck from behind, using my free hand to grab one of the decorative metallic statues off a table and jam it beneath the mask. I pushed and twisted until sparks flew and the robot powered down in my arms. After the last robot was smashed to pieces by Cap’s shield, we all turned to face the one they called Ultron, still standing amongst the wreckage of the tower.

“I’m sorry, I know you mean well. You just didn’t think It through. You want to protect the world, but you don’t want it to change. How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to evolve? With these? These puppets?” He picked up the remainder of one of the broken bots, examining it before throwing it back down. “There’s only one path to peace. The Avengers extinction.” Before he could continue Thor broke the robot man to pieces. Yet still, in parts, he spoke. “I had strings but now I’m free.”

We ran stock on the lab for hours, finding just how much Ultron had infiltrated. Our files, all the data on us, he knew everything. Not only that but he also had the scepter. Stark stood by his and Banner’s madness, it seemed the rest of the team were very much not on the same page and cracks were becoming evident.

“Maybe we do not focus on who was right or wrong and we focus on finding the scepter and Ultron instead?”

Cap nodded. “Thor and Nadia are right, Ultron’s calling us out, and I’d like to find him before he’s ready for us.”

…

The ship was dark and sordid, rust clinging to the walls. I nodded to Natasha when she glanced at me. We crept along the ground floor, watching Stark, Cap, and Thor above on the bridge facing Ultron and the twins. They were attempting to talk Ultron down.

When a fight inevitably broke out, I backed away to where I could hear impending footsteps and gunfire erupting. Several men with bullet-proof vests and heavy weaponry emerged. Nat and I both began to take out everyone we could whilst Clint covered from above. One of the men wrapped me in a chokehold from behind, it only lasted a moment before I dropped and flipped him over my head, slamming the base of my gun into his head. I snuck up behind one of the others, grabbing ahold of his rifle and twisting it to choke him with the strap until he passed out. Just as I turned to locate Natasha that damned blue and silver streak rushed past me, knocking me down onto the damp concrete. My gun skidded across the floor, out of reach. “We must stop meeting like this.” His familiar voice filled my ears. I remained on the ground, wrapping my leg around his and tripping him over the moment he was still long enough. When he met the ground, he grabbed a hold of my ankle, moving back to his feet and dragging me swiftly toward him.

“I suppose I’m to say that you don’t have to do this, we can help you, so on and so forth.” I rolled my eyes. “But…. You have annoyed me now, so I won’t.” With that I planted my foot into his chin sending him tumbling onto his backside. “I grow rather tired of hearing you speak, metal man.” I called, grabbing the gun that I had dropped and shooting round after round at Ultron. When I whirled around to strike the person who I sensed approaching me a pair of arms wrapped tightly around me, incapacitating me. Before I could escape the grip, a girl stepped toward me, eyes red and hands dancing around my forehead. I kicked out at her but then, all at once she was gone, everything was.

I was laying on my back on the cold metal gurney, fluorescent white light burned my eyes making them water. Thrashing around against the arms that grabbed at my flesh, my back met the cold metal once again, pain shooting through my nerve endings.

“Нет, нет... Пожалуйста, прошу тебя, отпусти меня!”

No, no… Please, I beg of you, let me go!

There were voices all around, a moment later I was out of the hospital room, and I was in the shooting range. A hand moved from my shoulder down to my wrist before enveloping my own, tightening my grip on the pistol. There were people speaking to me, all around they called to me. Nadia. Nadia. Nadia. I blinked and classical music filled my ears, I saw the ballerinas en pointe, they twirled and twirled and when I blinked again, I was among them. Leotard suffocating me, pressing in on my ribs until the air could barely enter my lungs.

“You have done so well, my Nadia. The graduation ceremony will commence soon.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head violently, as if to shake the memories from me. My knees met the hard concrete beneath me, palms flattening against the rough surface. When I opened my eyes once more, I was no longer in the excruciatingly bright room, nor the ballet studio. There were still voices, but they were different now.

“Nadia, do you copy?!” It was Clint’s voice that came through the comm. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off by a ringing in my ears.

“The graduation ceremony is a good thing; it means you have proven yourself.”

“You should feel proud, Nadia.”

“Yes. I copy.” I forced out through gritted teeth, clenching my fists as I pushed my body upwards to stand. “Where is everyone?”

The room had been cleared of life in the time I’d been out of order. “I’m with Nat, heading back to the jet now. Banner turned green so Stark’s handling him, no idea where Cap and Thor are.”

I stumbled down a corridor I hoped would lead me out of this hell hole. “I’ll meet you there.” Just as soon as the words were out of my mouth I collapsed against a wall, barely managing to hold myself up.

The music was back, so were the dancers. I shook my head again. I told myself it wasn’t real; it was just a trick being played on me by that witch girl. The ringing sound continued, and I cursed my mind for allowing her in, for being so traitorous.

“Nadia, my sweet, Nadia. This is your home; it always will be, home has a funny way of finding us, does it not?”

“No! No, this is not real.”

“But if it’s not, why does it feel so real?” The voice taunted me, following me down the corridors.

When I finally managed to shake it, I thought I was okay. The music was gone, there were no longer words spoken in Russian, there was no more Dreykov. Everything was okay, but then I blinked, and the room was bathed in red. I glanced around frantically but the red was everywhere. “No.” I murmured, my heart thrumming against my sternum, back pressed firmly to the wall. “No this is not real, it’s over.” I slid to the ground, cradling my head in my hands and shutting my eyes tightly. The red was not real, it was just another of her tricks. The red had been released, it had left me after Abeni cleansed me, I did not see the world in red any longer, it was not real; it couldn’t be, I begged it not to be.

“Why haven’t you gone with your friends?” The voice made everything stop for a moment, my mind slowed, though I did not open my eyes. “You are upset?” I made no move to respond, remaining pressed firmly to the wall, willing the red away. “What? Is it truly so devastating to lose one fight? I think you may have an ego problem.” Pietro’s voice was light, not mocking but certainly teasing. I heard shuffling and then felt his presence close to me, he had knelt down in front of me, presumably. “What is wrong with you?” I remained silent; hands pressed to my closed eyes. Warm hands wrapped loosely around my own, tugging them away from my face. I clenched my fists. I was so utterly petrified that the red had returned that my body barely reacted to the discomfort of being touched.

“Leave me.” I muttered.

He did not. “Open your eyes.” I squeezed them shut tighter, pressing my back even further against the wall, hands still clenched at my sides. He repeated himself, voice so soft it almost sent a shiver down my spine. I shook my head at him, but he ignored my protest going to repeat himself once more.

“I can’t.” It was quiet and barely sounded like me, or perhaps it did sound like me, but a me from a long time ago. He asked me why. “I can’t because if I do, I might hurt you.”

There was silence for a long moment then. “Is that not something you want to do?” I hadn’t decided if keeping my eyes shut was a better alternative than the red. He was still there; I could feel it. Shaking my head gently, I pushed myself back up the wall until I was on my feet once more. I faced straight ahead, away from him before I let my eyes open. The red dissipated slowly before me, turning to dust and nothingness. When I was sure the red was gone, I glanced over my shoulder at the Maximoff boy.

“As it turns out, I am fine. Off you go.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “What happened to you?”

I ignored his words, pushing off the wall and exiting the building. It was deadly quiet on the jet; the only sound was Agent Hill’s voice informing us about the damage caused by Stark and Banner. The latter of the two sat on the ground, wrapped in a blanket, it had taken quite a lot to get rid of the green guy. An air of defeat and exhaustion sat thick around us as Clint flew us toward the safe house.

Chapter Text

Clint’s family were sweet, I wasn’t surprised he’d kept them a secret, in this line of work having attachments of any kind was exceptionally dangerous for everyone involved. It was not lost on me the enormity of this gesture, bringing us into his home, and allowing us to meet his loved ones. Laura had offered to help patch up my wounds, though I declined, taking a few supplies before moving to sit on the front porch steps by myself. It was serene here in this pocket of the countryside, the sky was clear, and the sound of birdsong filled my ears. I had not sustained much damage; at least not physically, a few stitches here and there, and I’d be fine. “You okay?” Tony’s voice came from behind me. I shot him a quick glance over my shoulder, continuing my sutures. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t. I knew you were there.” I muttered.

“Right. Yes, there’s no sneaking up on you… unless you’re Pietro Maximoff.”

I paused momentarily, sending a sharp glare toward him as he moved to sit on the step one lower than me. “He did not sneak up on me, I knew he was there, he was just too quick.”

“What did his sister show you?” He wasn’t looking at me as he spoke, choosing instead to face out toward the tree-dappled landscape. I chose not to reply, focusing on finishing the last of my stitches. “You don’t tend to show a lot of emotion, at least not on your face. There hasn’t been a moment since I’ve met you where I’ve been sure of what you’re thinking, kid.” I remained silent, beginning to wrap my freshly sutured wound. He turned to face me then. “Today, when you got on the jet, I mean I still couldn’t tell what you were thinking, but I saw something on your face, some emotion.”

“Is that what you saw?” Since getting on the jet, I’d made very little eye contact with anyone, keeping my head down. Almost as if awaiting the return of the red.

Tony sighed. “You don’t have to tell me what you saw now, or ever.”

“How kind of you.”

He laughed dryly. “What did you and Maximoff talk about?” I tensed slightly at his words. “Heard you over the comms.” He clarified.

“Then you should know what we talked about.”

“I was a little busy actually, you know the whole Hulk smashing the city thing.”

I sighed heavily, adjusting my tank top now that my wounds were cleaned and stitched. “The witch… what she showed me was not real, but it was once. I did not particularly enjoy being reminded of it; her brother caught me at a bad time.” That was the only explanation I offered him. He nodded.

“Okay, well you know… if you do want to talk about it… what’s that thing they say? You know where to find me I guess.” With that he left, wandering down to where Steve was chopping wood.

I avoided the others as best I could for the remainder of the day, keeping to myself and praying to any entity listening that the red would not come back.

At some point, I wandered out toward the trees that lined the property. Every now and then, when I’d blink, for a moment there would be red. It wasn’t like before when everything was bathed by it, it was subtle now, tinges at the edges of my vision. It would be there and then all at once, it was gone.

“Fury,” I muttered, not bothering to turn around.

“You know that ability of yours is a little unnerving, Nadia.”

I exhaled quickly, almost a laugh. “Let me see.” He spoke. I crossed my arms, turning and narrowing my eyes slightly at the familiar face before me. He nodded toward my arm. I pulled up my sleeve quickly to show him the sutured wound. “Nice needlework, unsurprising really.”

“What are you doing here, I haven’t seen you since…”

“S.H.I.E.L.D collapsed, and Hydra came out of the woodworks to take over?” I hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. That certainly had not been a pleasant time. Fury had put me on assignment with Cap, whilst Nat worked abroad, we’d just finished it when its Hydra took over. For a while, I’d thought Fury was dead and that Steve was a Hydra puppeteer. At the time, the shoe had fit. I didn’t trust him, and he wasn’t helping his case, particularly not when the Winter Soldier had stepped in front of me. A ghost from a past I thought I’d escaped. Steve was surprised I knew him, and I was just as surprised to find that the man who had taught me how to choke someone to death in the Red Room was his buddy from the old days. I shook my head to rid myself of the thoughts. “Figured the team needed a morale boost.”

I scoffed. “So, you come to give them a pep talk? ‘Go Avengers, you can do it!’”

“You talk about them as if you’re not one of ‘em.” He approached me as he spoke. I merely shrugged in response. “Here.” He handed me what looked to be a large, fed ex envelope. I narrowed my eyes, tearing into it to find a gun, it looked just like the one I’d been given as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. “Think of it like getting the new iPhone.”

With furrowed eyebrows, I glanced at him once more. “Explain.”

“It looks like a regular S.H.I.E.L.D. issue weapon, but you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. The bullets in that thing are 10 times more powerful than those in any other state issue.” He pulled the magazine from the gun, took a single bullet out and held it between two fingers. It had a little inscription on it, something like a star. “They’re something S.H.I.E.L.D was working on back in the day, you shoot a person with one of these they’re not getting up.”

“Very thoughtful…” I took the gun and reloaded it before shoving it into my pocket.

He held a hand up before I walked away. “There’s something else, Nadia.” Into my hands, he slid a second envelope containing a manilla folder. “I probably should have given that to you sooner. You know how I like to dig up information on the people I work with, well you’re not an exception to that. Only problem is I was never able to find much on you.” I looked down at the folder, gripping it slightly tighter. “Five years ago, I found something, a thread which I pulled, it didn’t quite unravel but a few pieces fell out. That’s what’s in that folder.”

I looked around to ensure there was no one around. “It’s about the Red Room? I do not need a book review, I was there.”

“It’s not about the Red Room, Nadia.” There was an unfamiliar look in his eyes as he regarded me. Something almost sullen. “It’s something from before.” My throat felt tight as his words processed in my mind. Before… that was not something which existed, in my mind there was only nothingness. “Our understanding was that most of the kids who were taken there were taken as babies or small children from their parents and sent into the operation. You were taken as a child as well, but it was Hydra who kidnapped you from your family and then there were almost 9 months unaccounted for before you were given to the Red Room.”

My hands trembled. “So what? What does it matter how I got to the Red Room, it happened and now it is over.” I wanted the conversation to be over now, but Fury seemed intent on continuing.

“Hydra taking an interest in you at such a young age makes me believe your abduction wasn’t random. You were assessed by the Red Room for genetic potential in becoming a Widow, yes, but Hydra took you before that. What reason would they have to do something like that? Unless it was personal.” I shook my head. “You were too young to have made yourself a target, it had to have been your family, there must have been a reason for Hydra to want to hurt them.”

I tore the manilla folder open, tearing the paper to shreds without even sparing a glance at the words written on it. “I don’t care! Nick, I do not care why Hydra took me or what they wanted to get out of it! I am not that child anymore, they are not my family anymore, so I do not want to hear any more of your theories.” It was his turn to furrow his eyebrows then. “It is done. It is over. None of it matters and I do not want to hear about this anymore.”

I turned to walk back into the house. “You don’t want to know if your family is still out there? If you could go back to them?”

I stopped in my tracks at his words, still facing the door of the house. “There is no going back. Whoever those people are… I am not the child that was taken from them.” With that, I walked back into the house ignoring Nat who attempted to stop me. My eyes were stinging, and my heart was thrumming against my sternum. I did not need to hear about the things that were taken from me, the things that I’d lost. What I said to Fury was true; there was no going back, not for me.

At some point, we were gathered within Clint’s home as Fury briefed us on what he’d learned about Ultron’s motive, global destruction. It was part pep talk, part Fury assuring us that the world was screwed without our help. It wasn’t until Banner began his spiel about evolution that I really found myself listening. Ultron would use Helen Cho to evolve the human race; by destroying it.

It wasn’t long before I was hopping back onto the Quinjet on what was being called a strictly recon mission. Natasha and I departed together on a motorcycle to help Cap fight off Ultron. I leaned over and grabbed his discarded shield as Nat drove us toward the truck. “We’re always cleaning up after you boys.” She taunted.

 “I’ll help Cap, you get the cradle?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, go Nads!” Nat brought the bike alongside the truck, and I slowly moved to my feet before launching myself toward the metal man. I quickly swerved the hit he sent my way and purposely fell to my back, sweeping one leg around his and kicking him hard in the back with the other to send him toward Cap who threw him off the truck and into a cement post. I’d barely made it back to my feet before Ultron was tackling both of us into the air, Cap spun us so that Ultron made the first impact with the train, slamming through the metal and glass. I hissed as shards clung to my flesh when I rolled through it.

 I grabbed a hold of the overhead rails on either side of me to swing myself up to kick Ultron in the head throwing him off balance, he made a sound akin to a groan of frustration before grabbing me and shoving me down into a seat. The wind was knocked from my lungs with the force, the chair groaning beneath me. I rolled out of the way before his fist made contact with my stomach but was caught between him and the glass window as he slammed my head against it. He was pushing so hard that I heard the glass begin to crackle underneath my skull. Either the window was going to shatter or the bones in my head would, I wasn’t particularly keen to find out what would come first, luckily, I didn’t have to. Ultron was knocked away from me by the blue and silver streak. I fell backward into a seat to see the witch girl using her magic to shield Cap and me from Ultron with the metal railing. Behind me was the boy, Pietro. I narrowed my eyes at him but before I had the chance to question the sudden change of alliances, Ultron was shooting a beam at him and taking to the sky. Pietro sped out of the way to avoid being hit and I glanced back to Steve who offered a shrug. “We need to stop this fucking train!” I jumped back to my feet running toward the conductor who lay dead across the controls. “Sorry about the language.” I taunted beginning to hit buttons in an attempt to stop the locomotive.

“Is there ever a time you choose not to be a smartass?” Before I could respond I heard Clint asking if we’d seen Nat over the comms. “What do you mean? Don’t you have eyes on her?”

“Negative, I have the cradle but Nat’s not here.”

Steve commanded him to get the cradle to Stark whilst we attempted to stop the train. “There are too many people in the way,” I muttered watching out the window and attempting to swallow down my concern for Natasha. “They need to move, or they’ll be hit. Him…” I gestured toward Pietro. “He can get them out of the way.” Cap agreed and the enhanced boy was off, the streak of blue and silver darting back and forth before the train. Wanda’s hands turned red as she brought us to a screeching halt. I helped people get off the train the moment it stopped, lifting rubble from them, and clearing their paths. When I stepped out, I saw Wanda tending to Pietro.

“I’m fine, I just need to take a minute.” He said falling to a sitting position as he breathed heavily.

“I’m very tempted not to give you one,” Cap spoke. The twin’s eyes darted from him to me, and I merely crossed my arms over my chest offering an indifferent expression.

Wanda asked about the cradle, eyes widening when she found out it was being taken to Stark. “He will do anything to make things right.” I watched Cap as he began to call Stark over comms, there was no response. No one was on. “Ultron cannot tell the difference between saving the world and destroying it. Where do you think he gets that?”

When Steve met my gaze, I narrowed my eyes just slightly for just a moment, a question. Almost imperceivable to anyone else, but he understood. I was asking him what we do now. I could tell he didn’t know. None of us spoke on the trip back to headquarters. I did not know if the witch girl was right. Stark would only do what was best for the greater good, I knew that, but I wondered if his understanding of what was best was what created trouble. He did create Ultron in the first place and got us into this whole mess.

“You’re not going to thank me?” I did not look at Pietro at first, letting him wonder if I’d even heard him. “I did kind of save your life back there, well your pretty face at least.” He murmured. My sharp glare quickly shut him up and after shifting in his seat for a moment he went silent once more.

Upon arriving back at HQ, it was evident how things would occur. Stark and Banner were working on what looked to be another Ultron. “I’m only going to say this once-”

“How about non-ce?” Stark called over the whirring machines.

Stark and Rogers went back and forth like this. “Shut it down!”

“Not going to happen.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Finally, Banner intervened. “And you do? She’s not in your head?” He gestured toward Wanda. I slipped away silently then, moving to the shadows as the boys continued to argue. Pietro sped around the room unplugging the machines before Clint shot through the glass beneath his feet, bringing him crashing through to the lower level. I moved quickly as the fight broke out, sweeping my feet beneath the witch's, causing her to fall to the ground. I pinned her with ease, ensuring her hands were down and holding a knife at her throat to make sure the danger was not lost on her.

“You would take Stark’s side?! Even when you know the damage Ultron intends, you still trust that madman?”

“Who said anything about trusting him? No, Maximoff, I just don’t trust you.”

She struggled against me, but it was fruitless, pinning one’s opponent adequately was one of our first lessons in the Red Room. “I understand you are mad… You have every right not to trust me but-”

I laughed, cutting her off before she managed to get out the rest of her sentence. “Go ahead, plead your case… this is my favorite bit.”

Before either of us could respond Thor appeared, leaping atop the table with his hammer and bringing to life Stark and Banner’s creation. I threw myself from her as it launched through the air toward Thor. Pulling my gun from its holster and aiming it toward the peculiar red man. Thor held a hand up in my direction, halting me without words. The creature stared at his reflection in the glass windows before hovering back toward us. I did not lower my gun, gaze narrowed as I watched him carefully. Thor spoke to us of magic stones and the end of the world. He told us that Stark was right and that we could not defeat Ultron alone. I was beginning to tire of all this otherworldly nonsense. Fucking robots and aliens, when did things become so complicated.

“I do not want to kill Ultron, he is unique and he’s in pain, but that pain will roll over the earth so he must be destroyed. Every form he’d built, every trace of his presence on the net. We have to act now.” The red man turned to us then. “And not one of us can do it without the others.” I glanced at the people around me, lowering the gun slowly. “There may be no way to make you trust me, but we need to move.” He lifted Thor’s hammer as if it weighed nothing and silence filled the room once more. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing seemed an adequate response in that moment.

“Right. Well done.” Thor noted, patting Stark on the back before following the red man.

Steve turned to us then, nodding once. “Three minutes, get what you need.”

I slipped a second gun into the holster around my calf, the gun Fury had given me situated at my hip. After I’d loaded up on ammo and re-holstered my knife into its hidden compartment, I looked in the mirror, wiping the blood and soot from my face. The red was still there, hiding behind each blink of my eyes; taunting me.

Chapter Text

Aboard the Quinjet Cap gave his speech, as anticipated. “Odds are we’ll be riding into heavy fire. That’s what we signed up for, but the people of Sokovia didn’t. Our main priority is clearing the city. Nadia, go with the Maximoffs. Cover Wanda and any civilians that come under fire while fleeing.” I glanced in the direction of the Maximoff twins, a scowl present on my face. Pietro smiled sheepishly waving slowly.

When we made it to the bridge he parted from us, speeding off toward the police building. Red tendrils streamed from Wanda’s hands, spanning across the city, into windows, and around civilians. I pulled the gun from my holster, scanning the skies around us to ensure none of Ultron’s guards attacked. Stark was on his way to find Ultron and Bruce went to get Nat as the rest of them spread out to see people out of the city. There was a long moment of silence as I awaited someone on the comms or an incoming attack.

Suddenly the atmosphere exploded into sound as robots came flying in. People were rushing through the streets screaming as the metal men came raining down upon us. I fired at them as best I could, running to cover the civilians rushing across the bridge. Wanda created a red shield to cover the people running by, but a particularly strong beam broke the barrier and knocked her off her feet. I ran along the side of the bridge, kicking off the stone wall and wrapping my legs around the robot as I slammed the base of my gun into its head repeatedly. I’d found this approach to technology something I frequented, if the thing doesn’t work right, hit it against something until it does. When it moved its head back far enough, I jammed my knife into the sweet spot where its metal face ended, just as I’d done in the tower. The robot began to trip and swing aimlessly as I jumped off of its back. It eventually fell off of the bridge onto the water and rock beneath, continuing to spark and short circuit. I moved swiftly to help Wanda stand and ensure she was not seriously injured.

“Thank you.” She breathed, dusting her hands off. Before I could respond I felt the earth begin to shift beneath my feet. I stumbled and glanced around, surveying the surrounding area. Clouds of dust erupted as the center of the city began to separate and crack apart.

“Do you see the beauty of it? The inevitability. You rise, only to fall.” Ultron’s voice was clear as he spoke to each of us. I watched the city fly higher into the air before my very eyes. My body felt paralyzed. “You, Avengers, you are my meteor. My swift and terrible sword. And the Earth will crack with the weight of your failure. Purge me from your computers, turn my own flesh against me. It means nothing. When the dust settles, the only thing living in this world will be metal.”

I grabbed the shoulders of a little girl then, pulling her down before a robot’s stray beam could hit her. She turned her big blue, watery eyes on me then. “Are your parents here?” I asked her, wiping the tear from her cheek.

“I don’t know where my mama is.”

There was a flurry of people around us, running away from the chaos, but none seemed to spare the girl a glance. When I could not see anyone who appeared to be looking for her, I turned back to meet her eyes once more. “What’s your name?”

“Mira.” She mumbled, her voice wavering on the word. “It’s going to be okay, Mira, I will help you find your mama.” Moving to my feet once more, I stood in front of the little girl, but I barely made it a step before I felt a warmth fill my hand. I glanced down to see her tiny hand holding mine tightly. She held a brown teddy bear with a blue bow in her free hand as we walked. “

I pulled Mira behind a car then, kneeling before her once more. “Okay, Mira, I need you to do something for me. You sit here and close your eyes while covering your ears. Picture your mama sitting with you in a big, beautiful lake, the sky is blue, and the sun is nice and warm. You just keep thinking about the pretty lake until I get you. Okay?”

She nodded at me, bringing her hand up to cover her ears as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. I stood, swiftly, shooting at the robot who was flying directly for the car. I continued to fight the army one after another, not knowing a second’s respite as they continued to attack again and again. A flash of red hair caught my eye then. I shot at the robot who was about to hit Natasha from behind as she took out the one before her. The metal exploded around the bullet that hit it. Fury was right about these new bullets, just like the new iPhone. “Where the hell have you been? You missed all the fun times.” I spoke as I dodged an attack.

“Oh yeah it’s been just a blast for me too, Nads.”

The blue and silver streak shot past me then, dropping Wanda on the front lines to use her magic on the robots. “Oh great, this guy,” I muttered slamming a robot’s head through a car window on the opposite side to where Mira was.

“You missed me?” He spoke before groaning in pain and looking toward his bicep which now had a bullet peeking out of it. My lips curved up then. We continued fighting as best we could, clearing the streets of the robots until Stark informed us of just how bleak our options were. I returned to the little girl sitting on the ground with her eyes closed. Squatting down before her, I gently removed her hands from her ears, prompting her to open her eyes. I took her hand again and walked her toward a swing set near where Nat and Cap both stood with glum expressions written across their faces.

“I’m not leaving this rock with one civilian on it.” Steve spoke when I approached him, staring out at the wreckage. I glanced around watching the families rushing for shelter, the desolation that was only growing around us. I thought back to the file I’d shred, the reminder of a past that felt as though it did not belong to me. I didn’t think I’d ever known this familial love, the way these people clung to each other for comfort, all I ever remember knowing was the Red Room and… I glanced at Cap and Nat again. I knew the Avengers.

“So maybe we don’t leave.” Steve and Nat both looked at me then. “There are worse ways to go.”

After a long moment, Nat took a step toward me, shrugging. “Where else am I gonna get a view like this?” I met her eyes and my lips twitched momentarily. I let her hand graze mine for just a moment. There was a mutual understanding between us in that moment, a kinship that did not need words.

“Glad you like the view, Romanoff. It’s about to get better.” Came a familiar voice over the comms. Before our eyes, S.H.I.E.L. D’s huge ship emerged from the clouds. “Nice right? She’s dusty, but she’ll do.”

I could not help the grin that slipped across my lips at the sight of it. “Fury you son of a bitch.” Cap muttered.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” The man taunted.

From the sides of the ship came several Heli-carriers ready to remove civilians from the city. I picked Mira up to keep her from the rush of people as they were gathered from their shelters and guided them quickly to the airborne lifeboats. The carriers were filling quickly, and finally, it seemed as though things would not go to complete shit.

“Mira!” I heard a voice scream, relief written across the woman’s face as she leaped toward me. A single glance at the little girl’s expression told me everything I needed to know. I put her on the ground and watched as she ran toward her mama who thanked me profusely as she clung to her daughter. A smile almost spread across my lips as I watched the interaction, foreign as it was to me, there was a certain warmth that rose in my chest as the exchange.

“Avengers, time to work for a living,” Stark spoke across the comms. Nat and I jumped into a plow truck to meet the other Avengers at the core. Ultron appeared before us then, hovering in the air.

“Is that the best you can do?” Shouted Thor. He’d barely finished his sentence before Ultron had summoned another army of robot soldiers.

“You just had to ask.”

I rolled my eyes, readying myself to fight the full force of robots that attacked us. They seemed never ending but, nonetheless, we endured. Stark, Thor, and the red man all set their sights on Ultron, using their combined power to render him defenseless.  I focused on destroying the mini-Ultrons until they began to flee.

On the way back to the Heli-carriers Clint told Nat and I about his next home improvement project, driving around the shifted earth which had become massive obstacles in our course. “Didn’t you tell Laura you were done with all the projects?”

He shrugged, giving me a look of indignation in the rearview mirror. I merely poked my tongue out at him. We arrived at the carriers to hear a woman shouting out for someone, her child.

It all happened very fast, I saw Clint grab the little boy and then I saw the flash of blue and silver, Pietro. My brain didn’t have time to catch up with my body as I took off running, I knew what he was doing. How, I wasn’t sure, but I knew. I dropped and rolled in front of Pietro, Clint, and the little boy, pulling the weapon from my hip and firing before the jet gunfire reached us. A loud metallic clink echoed through the air and the bullets ceased as everything became silent for a moment, all at once sound erupted all around, and the barrel of the jet gun exploded, raining shrapnel down on us. Cap’s shield came slicing through the air toward me, but I kicked the edge, deflecting it toward Clint who held it over his and the boy’s heads. Before I could figure out how to shield myself from the shards of metal in the air I was pulled to my feet and enveloped by someone’s arms as wind whipped around me. My heart was racing, breaths coming in short puffs when we finally came to a stop. Pietro stood before me, eyes wide and darting across my features, hands on either side of my face.

“Are you okay?” I opened my mouth to respond but no words came out as I watched him, eyes narrowed. I did not understand the way he looked at me then. “Nadia…You are hurt.” He spoke, looking down at my stomach, his hand following his eyes. When I looked down, I saw blood seeping from a bullet wound, my skin peeking out from under the hole that had been torn through my suit. I blinked and there were bodies all around me, I thought of laying in the snow bleeding out and when I looked back to Pietro, concern was evident on his features.

I shoved his hands from me roughly, stepping away from him. His expression fell as he studied me incredulously. “I am fine.” I spoke with a shrug, turning to walk away, a hand pressed firmly to the wound. The Earth shifted beneath my feet yet again and I was thrown aboard the carrier before the city began to descend rapidly.

“My sister!” I heard Pietro shout.

Before he could move Clint grabbed him by the shoulder. “She’s okay.” He nodded toward the red man who flew through the air with Wanda in his arms. The second her feet touched the carrier her eyes widened, tears filling them instantly.

“Pietro!” She threw her arms around her brother, embracing him tightly. “Y-you… I thought that you were…”

He shook his head, his eyes slowly finding their way back to me. I ignored the two of them walking further into the lifeboat and dropping down into a seat. A med approached me hastily, squatting in front of me to check my wounds. “I am fine.” I snapped unintentionally, swiftly holding a hand in front of me to stop them from touching me. “I am fine. Others need your help more.” I spoke slightly softer this time. The man put his hands up in surrender stepping away from me to tend to someone else. I leaned back in my seat, watching him go to the woman with a nasty head wound. A hiss left me as I pressed a hand against my wound in an attempt to slow the blood. When we boarded the S.H.I.E.L.D mothership I would suture the wound but for now, my hand would have to suffice. A body dropped into the seat beside my own, blue and silver becoming visible in my peripheral. I sighed exasperatedly as he turned to me. “Jesus, really?!” He rolled his eyes at my tone.

“You need help,” I told him to leave me alone, only with far more colorful language. “Why are you so damn stubborn?” Ignoring him seemed the best course of action, the one which pissed him off the most as well, really it was a win-win. “Nadia.” I narrowed my eyes then, glancing at him momentarily. I did not like the way my name sounded from him.

“What is your problem? Why do you insist on pestering me?!”

He looked at me in disbelief then. “Pestering you? You’re bleeding out, I am trying to help you.” He gestured to my hand that was now turning red with the blood that overflowed it.

“I don’t need your help.” My vision was beginning to turn blurry, my body becoming clammy. When the ringing filled my ears, I squeezed my eyes shut, I’d felt this before; knew what it meant. I gripped my wound tighter, gritting my teeth when the pain shot through me. It was good, it would keep me awake. Pietro was still speaking to me, though his words were merging into unintelligible babble. “What?” I murmured, furrowing my eyebrows. His expression mirrored my own as he observed me, he spoke again, and it was so distant it almost felt like a dream. I could feel my body going slack in the chair, my hand wet with my blood. Before I knew it my vision was gone and suddenly there was nothing. 

When I was unconscious the woman returned, the one I’d dreamed about ever since I was a child. Gentle hands caressed my cheek as she hummed softly. Sometimes she wore a bracelet, I would hear it jingle with her movements, and feel the cool metal graze my ear as she smoothed my hair down.

Chapter Text

My vision was foggy when my eyes opened once more. The slow rhythm of a monitor beeping filled my ears as I glanced around the room, it wasn’t a hospital, but it definitely wasn’t the Avengers Tower either. My attention was piqued by the sound of a door opening and closing.

“Welcome back,” Anna murmured, a soft smile coming to sit on her face. “You gave us all quite the scare.” I shifted in the bed, attempting to sit up. “Just take it slow, Nads, you’re on a lot of pain meds and you don’t want to pop a stitch.”

I thanked her for the cup of water she handed me. “Where are we?”

“The new Avengers compound. You passed out on the lifeboat; the medics took care of you on board, but you’ve been out since then. Helen Cho worked her magic on you when you got back here.” The moment the water hit my lips it became apparent just how thirsty I was, it was as if I’d been walking through the Sahara for days, my throat dry and torn. “You know a text would have been nice. Didn’t need to be long, just a simple ‘hey Anna heading off to save the world talk to you later’.” I smiled into the cup at her taunting tone. “I mean here I am kicking back in Istanbul, and I get a call from Natasha saying you’re bleeding out in bloody Sokovia.”

My body felt light, as though it were floating. I guessed it was the medication. “Well, I did not want to disturb you, miss superspy.” She rolled her eyes, flipping me her middle finger as she dropped into the seat beside the bed. “I’m sorry, next time a robot man is intent on global destruction I’ll send you an email.”

“Please do!” I snorted at her, resting my head back against the crisp white pillows. “I missed you, smartass. The fiercely independent thing is fine, all I ask is the odd update so I know you’re still breathing, really any sign of life would be much appreciated.”

“Ugh, you people with all your emotions.” I teased, keeping my eyes closed. She huffed in feigned annoyance at my words. “I will try to keep you updated.” I popped a single eye open to watch her roll her eyes and smile at me gently. “How is your peculiar little rat?”

She shook her head at me, a scowl taking over her expression. “By that, I assume you mean my Pomeranian?” I hummed in response prompting her to sigh exasperatedly before telling me how the little creature was faring. “You can pretend to disdain George all you want but I’ve seen you giving him treats and spoiling him with pets.”

“Poor little Georgie, I feel bad for the beast, he is so tiny. Like a little doll, all of the other dogs will bully him.”

We continued like this for a while, catching up on life, at least as much as we could with her MI6 confidentialities and my innate displeasure in sharing my secrets. It was nice, to hear Anna’s voice, to have her here. She was the first person whom I’d found comfort in the presence of. There was safety with her, that is what our friendship was built on. Although, friendship did seem an inadequate word for our kinship. Family was what we had called it over the years, though even now that still seemed such a foreign concept it made my skin crawl each time, I lingered on the thought too long.

“You know you really did give us a scare, Nads.” I nodded at her, poking at the chocolate pudding that had been given to me. The first time I had one of these I was 21 and it was at the hospital in New York whilst I sat at Anna’s bedside after she’d had a particularly tough assignment. At the time I had been disgusted by the thought of this strange brown, custardy substance, even when I tried it, I found myself turned off by the thought of what ingredients went into making the uniquely American delicacy. However, they’d grown on me over the years. “Each of the Avengers have been in to see you that many times it’s becoming a little silly. Thor left you those before heading home.” She nodded toward an egregiously large bouquet of flowers. I bit back a smile at the thought of him purchasing that. What a very odd person. God. Whatever. “Nat got you something as well, she said she left it in your room…” The way Anna spoke then immediately made me suspicious. There was something she wanted to say, something on the tip of her tongue that she was biting back.

I raised an eyebrow at her but still she remained silent, swallowing down what might have been a laugh. “For God’s sake, just spit it out.”

“It’s nothing… I was just saying how you worried us… all of us.” I narrowed my eyes at her. She was trying extremely hard not to laugh now, I could tell. “That Maximoff boy, particularly.” She could no longer stop herself as a little giggle slipped out.

A sigh of utter exasperation came from me as she continued to laugh. “I am not sure what is so funny, Anna. What do I care of that infuriating prick?”

She grinned at me. “He’s been here more than anyone else. Honestly, I wasn’t sure he’d leave your side until I told him to piss off and take a shower.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Seriously he wouldn’t stop pacing around the room, I thought he was gonna wear a hole through the floor.”

I could not believe this woman. “Good for him.”

“He’s cute.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I muttered shoving a heaping spoonful of pudding into my mouth and attempting a nonchalant shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at me, but I simply avoided her gaze. “Are you sure?” I did not like her tone.

“He is a terrorist.”

“No one’s perfect.” I gaped at her implication, her gaze remained set on me, unwavering. It was not okay with me that she felt she could see through me so easily. “Plus, I wouldn’t really call him a terrorist, an idiot? Maybe, but he joined the Avengers in the end so…” She shrugged, stealing a spoonful of pudding from me.

“You are beginning to piss me off now.”

She only laughed again, taking another spoonful of the chocolatey goodness. “Why because I’m right and you’re saying the exact same thing in your head?”

I opened my mouth to disagree but before I could get the words out her phone began ringing, cutting me off. She pulled up a bag from beside her feet, laying it on the end of the bed. “I’m so sorry, I have to get this. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.” I nodded, gesturing for her to go.

Unfortunately, I was not left alone for very long as Dr. Cho came in to check on me. “I am feeling much better now, can I go?”

She breathed a laugh, checking over the machine and taking a quick look under the bandage at my hip. “You’ll be fine to leave whenever you’re ready, Nadia. The wound looks far better already.”

“Great. I do not want any of the special medicine either, just give me the basics, nothing that affects my consciousness.”

“I would recommend taking something stronger for the pain, your body can heal without the medication, but you’d be putting yourself through so much unnecessary pain. You sustained a lot of damage, there’s no shame in taking something a little stronger.”

I pulled the blankets off of my legs, swinging them over the side of the bed. Within the bag, Anna had left was a clean set of clothes for me to change into. “I’ve had worse. I’ll be fine. Thank you, Dr Cho.”

She shook her head and sighed quietly, handing me two little bottles. “It’s your choice, I’m giving you something stronger as well just in case.” I took the bottles and tossed them into the bag, ignoring her look of frustration. “All right, well keep an eye on the wound and come back in a couple of days so I can check the healing progress.”

When I was alone again, I slipped into the small bathroom attached to the med bay, pulled off the hospital gown, and stepped into the shower. Most of the blood had been wiped from me though there was still quite a lot, alongside all sorts of dirt and debris which clung to me. The water ran black and red as it swirled down the drain, taking with it the stress and agonies of my time in Sokovia. A deep ache set into my muscles as the medication began to wear off, bringing me to a crisper consciousness where pain lay in wait.

I left the medical wing, swallowing down the agony that seared in my body as I wandered aimlessly down the unfamiliar hallway. The compound was quite fancy, not that it surprised me, Stark did have a flare for that kind of thing. Glass panes surrounded me, glossy floors which the light bounced off of.

“Hey, kid!” I glanced over my shoulder to see the man himself approaching me. “Glad to see you’re back on your feet, come on I’ll show you your new room.” He walked beside me, keeping pace with my pained, slightly slower stride. “What do you think of the new place? Nice huh? I thought the windows made it a little reminiscent of the tower, plus you know light and all that good stuff.” The end of his sentence came swiftly, almost as if he were glossing over the words as he spoke to them, he glanced at me so briefly it was almost unnoticeable.

“Yes, it’s… it’s nice, different to the tower, but nice.”

He nodded quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, definitely. Less light pollution out here though.” I remained silent as he showed me to my new room. It was spacious and the walls were white. Not sterile, hospital-white, rather a softer, warmer white that made it feel open. A large, plush bed sat in the middle of a wall, surrounded by side tables, and in the corner sat an empty bookshelf and a desk but none of these things were what held my attention. There was a whole wall lined with beautiful glass windows, the sun trickling through to bathe the furniture in warmth. I stepped toward them, holding a hand out to let the rays of sun engulf my flesh. “It’s a lot of light I know, but I had controls installed to tint the windows as much or as little as you want. All with the click of this remote.” He held up a little white controller. “They can go completely blackout, or you can just dim it, they’re also one-sided so you can see out, but no one can see in.” He spoke the way he always did, with that cool disposition that made him seem untouchable. He spoke as if it were nothing, when to me, this meant more than he’d ever know.

A picture frame sitting on the bedside table caught my attention, it was simple but nice, inside lay a photograph of Natasha and me. I picked it up to examine it closer, it was the night Ultron had attacked us in the Avenger’s tower when Nat had insisted we take a picture together before the party. Stuck to the top corner of the frame was a pink Post-it note.

What could be more you than your own face?

As I gazed into the glass encasing the image, I was able to see my own reflection staring back at me. I was smiling and my eyes were watery. Quickly placing the picture back down on the nightstand I looked at the roof, pretending to be stretching my neck as I took a deep breath.  “You asked me what she showed me.” I finally spoke after a few long moments.

He asked what I meant.

“You asked me what the witch showed me, in the shipyard.” I turned to face him then.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I don’t, and I’m not going to either. Not now.” He raised an eyebrow at me. I exhaled deeply before continuing. “The place where I was raised… it was dark, and it was cold all the time and there was never music. For most of my life, that was what I knew, cold, dark, silence.” I could feel his gaze on me, but I did not meet it. “I don’t mind the light pollution in New York because it means that it is always light. I like the sound of the traffic because when I wake up during the night, there is sound. I asked you for a room with windows so that I always know, I am not in that place.” I shook my head. “Not anymore.”

There was silence again then. We stood facing each other but not meeting each other’s gaze, sitting in a silence that was surprisingly comfortable. He nodded. “Okay.” It was a word atop an exhale. A word that was simple, but in that moment, it had weight. It was an acknowledgement and it meant something to me. He turned to the door, placed the little remote on the desk, and took a step forward.

“Tony.” Both of us froze at the sound of my voice. In all the years that I’d known this man, I had never once called him by his first name. “You are a mad scientist, and sometimes a bit of a prick.” He smiled sheepishly, furrowing his eyebrows slightly at my words. “But you are also a good man, a man who saved the world. Thank you.” I looked toward the beams of sunlight streaming through my windows.

“I’ll see you around, Nads.” He spoke, turning to leave. Before he stepped out of the room, I saw the way his lips curved upward, it brought a soft smile to my own face.

…

Anna did come back, just as she said she would. She had to board a flight back to England to report to MI6 before leaving again for her next assignment. It was a busy life, one that we had in common. “You know sometimes I think maybe I should’ve chosen MI6 over S.H.I.E.L.D. Then I would not have to contend with jaded AI and near doomsday events on a weekday.”

She laughed. “It would be nice to get to see you more often.” She wrapped me in her warm embrace and for a moment I tensed, but then it was Anna, and it was okay. She exhaled softly, shaking her head as she pulled away with a small, earnest smile. “No... Superhero suits you better.”

I narrowed my eyebrows at her, an amused smile spreading across my lips. “Look after yourself.”

“No, you look after yourself.” She spoke, her tone shifting to a scolding one, like an older sister. “I mean it.” She added, pointing at me.

When she was gone, and it was quiet I slipped into the large bed facing the windows. For a while, I just watched the intricate patterns drawn on the marble floors by the sun trickling in. “J.A.R.V.I.S… are you there?” I spoke into the room, feeling a little silly for the bubble of hope in my chest. For a moment there was silence, and I was almost embarrassed, of course, he was not there, J.A.R.V.I.S was installed into the red man they called Vision.

“Hello, Nadia. My name is F.R.I.D.A.Y, Mr. Stark has installed me in the Avengers compound now that J.A.R.V.I.S has left?” It was a woman’s voice, she was Irish. “Perhaps I can help?”

I swallowed heavily. “It is very quiet in here...” My words trailed off, I did not know what to say and it felt stupid and weak now.

“The previous Avengers tower was soundproof also so J.A.R.V.I.S emitted quiet cityscape sounds into your room. Would you like me to do this as well?” Her voice was gentle and non-judgmental.

“Yes. Yes, please.”

 The moment I’d finished my sentence the low hum of traffic, wind, and life streamed into the room. “Of course, is there anything else I can help with?”

I lowered myself, resting my head back on the plush pillows and snuggling into the duvet. “No thank you… F.R.I.D.A.Y.” She told me I was welcome and then she was gone. I dimmed the windows slightly, just enough that the sun was blaring but enough that I could still see out. As soon as I was comfortable, I rolled onto my side.

I couldn’t sleep on my back, not anymore. It was odd to feel incapable of such a mundane thing. In support group, they call things like that a trigger. I’d never found a better term for that feeling that occurs in the dead of night when the room is still, and I am on my back with my eyes closed. It’s the feeling of my legs in stirrups, needles injecting me with a drug that made me feel as though I were underwater. My muscles turned to mush, and my body was stolen from me. Parts that were supposed to be mine. Proof that nothing belonged to me in the Red Room.

I tended to favor side sleeping.

…

When my eyes opened, I was bathed in darkness. I could feel sweat pricking at the back of my neck and my heart was thumping quickly in my chest. Taking a long, deep breath I closed my eyes and focused. The hushed sound of traffic enveloping me, my heart slowed slightly, and I reopened my eyes, snatching the remote and turning the dimmer off on the windows to reveal the silver glow of moonlight. After a while, the air began flowing smoothly into my lungs and my heart returned to its normal rhythm, the sweat dried and I was okay.

I took my time walking to the kitchen, creating a mental map of the compound as I went. It did not take me long to realize that the red was gone, no longer sitting in the corner of my vision, taunting me. I remained vigilant nonetheless, awaiting it’s return so it could not catch me by surprise. Before I turned the corner into the room, I was presuming was the kitchen based on the sound of voices and the sizzling of food in a pan, I leaned against the wall, cradling my wounded side and taking a deep breath. It hurt, a lot. I was only taking the weak painkillers Dr. Cho had given me, none of the stronger medicines, and I was paying the price. My body ached all over and my stomach had begun to cramp from the lack of sustenance. After another moment of rest, I pushed off the wall and made my way into the kitchen. There was a large island bench lined on one side by stools and a dining table across from it. Natasha sat at the island talking to Cap, who was stirring something in a pot at the stove. A glance at the table revealed Vision and the Maximoff twins talking amongst themselves.

“Nads, you’re awake.” Nat beamed when she spotted me causing all eyes in the room to land on me. I raised an eyebrow at her, glancing at Steve when he turned to face me, a novelty apron with the words ‘kiss the chef’ inscribed across the front, wrapped around his body.

“I was wondering if you’d be joining us tonight.” He spoke up offering me a warm smile. “You must be hungry, I’m made some soup, I’m not much of a cook but it smells decent so...”

I ignored the gaze of the enhanced twins, particularly the remorseful look that Wanda gave me and the concerned one her brother supplied. “Nice apron,” I murmured, walking to sit at the end of the dining table as far from Wanda and Pietro as possible. A snort came from Nat and an exasperated sigh from Cap at my comment.

“It was the only one that was here, and I didn’t want to spill on myself.” He mumbled, his tone suggesting that I wasn’t the first to comment on his choice of cooking attire. A moment after I’d sat down there was a bowl of steaming soup placed before me by Steve, followed by a glass of ice water from Natasha beside two little white pills which I assumed were painkillers. I raised an incredulous eyebrow at the two of them as they sat on either side of the table with their own meals.

“What’s with the table service?” The two of them shrugged as if they weren’t sure what I’d meant. I sipped the water before scooting forward to begin eating when I realized I didn’t have a spoon, bracing my hands on the arms of the chair to push myself up. Yet, before my chair was even far enough from the table for me to leave a streak of blue and silver whizzed by a spoon sitting in front of me before my mind even had time to comprehend what was happening. Glancing down the table to see Pietro seated, casually, as if he’d never left. My eyes narrowed at him from my seat before I glanced back to Nat and Steve who were barely touching their food as they pretended not to be focused on me. I picked up the spoon hesitantly. “Is this because I almost died?” I taunted, causing Natasha to shoot me a sharp glare.

“That’s not funny, Nadia.”

I put my hands up in surrender before beginning to eat. “Geez, tough crowd.” It was almost unbearable to know that I was being surveyed so heavily by the other people in the room, though there was something about it that prompted a warm feeling in my chest, not that I’d ever admit it. “This soup is actually very good; have you been taking cooking classes in your spare time?” I broke the silence, glancing at Steve.

“Actually, I found the recipe on the line.”

“The line?”

Nat bit back a grin, glancing at me. “The web.”

I gasped at that. “You used the internet, all by yourself.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny. Yes, I used the internet. I don’t particularly like it, but I must admit it was actually nice, this woman spoke about how the recipe was passed down from her great-grandmother.” Natasha and I shared a look at his admission, evidently, he had chosen to read the entire biography section of the recipe before making this soup.

The smile that sat across my face was hard to shake, try as I might. “Thank you for the food,” I spoke quietly as I continued eating. The overzealous service caretaking continued when I’d finished eating, my dish was cleared before I’d had the chance and my water was refilled. “Honestly, it was 1 bullet, for God’s sake. I am perfectly capable of walking to the bench.”

“Well, you don’t need to, I’m already doing it for you,” Natasha spoke, giving me a pointed look as she stacked the dishwasher. I rolled my head back to hang over the back of my seat in exasperation.

“You’re not going to take the medicine?” A voice piped up causing a wave of irritation to pass over me.

I lifted my head slowly, a lethal look in my eyes as they met his clear blue ones. “Whatever for? I am not in pain.”

“You took a bullet and shrapnel to the side but you’re not in any pain? Of course, this does not sound like you are trying to prove anything at all.”

 A hush fell over the room at his response. When I spoke again my tone was glacial. “I thank you for your concern, but it takes a little more than 1 bullet and some itty-bitty pieces of metal to kill me.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Perhaps next time the two of you decide to team up with a deranged metal man to kill the Avengers you will keep this in mind.” It was facetious and it was mean, but the words seemed to come from me before I had the chance to stop them.

Wanda swallowed heavily, her sullen gaze falling on the table then. My words silenced Pietro but did not have the intended effect. I’d anticipated anger from him, some nasty words in return but instead all I saw across his face was remorse; it sickened me.

After dinner, Natasha had insisted on showing me around the rest of the compound as I’d been too tired earlier to have a full tour. “That was a little harsh earlier, Nads.”

I asked her what she meant, though I heard my previous words echo in my mind the moment she’d spoken.

“I’m not going to stand here and defend the twins; they made a stupid choice and a lot of people ended up getting hurt.” I was silent as she spoke. “You know what? You’re right, Nadia. It is their fault.”

My eyes widened as I looked over at her, stopping abruptly in my track. “Wh-what? That is not what I said.”

“They killed those people, what happened in Sokovia is their fault.”

I shook my head, unable to believe her words. She did not believe that. “Natasha, what are you talking about?”

“I’m with you, Nads, they should feel terrible, all that blood is on their hands.”

“No, it isn’t!” The way my voice sounded surprized me; I’d never spoken to Nat like that. “It’s not their fault, they were just doing what they thought was right, they were trying to protect those people.” My chest rose and fell rapidly.

A slow, knowing smile spread across Natasha’s lips. The moment it appeared I realized what she was doing, recognized it. A scowl took over my face immediately. “Well, that was surprisingly easy.” I rolled my eyes at her, crossing my arms over my chest. “I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d break you, it’s never been that easy before, you must really care about them.”

I huffed exasperatedly, turning sharply on my heel, and walking away from the smug redhead. “Fuck off, honestly.”

Chapter Text

Steve regarded me with raised eyebrows. “Not a chance.” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest but before I could even begin protesting, he cut me off. “Nadia, you took a bullet to the side less than a week ago, you’re not in any shape to jump back into training.”

“I’m fine, Dr. Cho even said so.”

“Dr. Cho said that you were well enough to be out of bed. She did not say anything about sparring.” Natasha intervened, giving me an amused look.

I rolled my eyes at the two. They were acting as if I were currently on my deathbed. “This is ridiculous, I am not a porcelain doll. I’ve taken far worse than a bullet.”

The two of them held looks of utter exasperation as they stared me down. I did not flinch at their unwavering gazes, unwilling to back down. I’d had enough of pottering around the compound ignoring the concerned gazes of the others as they attempted to babysit me. Natasha glanced toward Cap then, offering him a look that made me rethink pushing the matter. I narrowed my gaze at her as they seemed to reach a mutual understanding despite not uttering a single word to each other.

“Okay, fine.” Steve supplied, running a hand through his neatly styled hair. “You can return to training, on the condition that you take it slow and do not push yourself too hard.”

I shrugged, shoulders tense as I continued to survey the pair before me, suspicious of the unspoken condition I sensed lingering in the air. “We’re training the new recruits currently so to ensure that you actually do as your told and take it easy you’re going to train one of the newbies. That way there’s no high-intensity sparring while you’re still healing.”

Natasha’s words had me tensing further, they could keep dreaming if they thought I’d train that witch. I didn’t want to be anywhere near her, sparring partners was off the table. I voiced this to Natasha and Steve.

“Well then, it’s a good thing you’re not training Wanda Maximoff,” Cap responded, crossing his arms. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

I stared at him in silence for a moment, processing what he meant by that. When it occurred to me that he was suggesting that I would be training the other Maximoff twin my eyes narrowed even further, my gaze no doubt glacial now. “Absolutely not!” I shot back sharply.

Nat grinned at my tone. “You were the one desperate to get back into training, careful what you wish for, Nads.”

“There are other recruits, why do I have to train him?! I’ll take anyone other than the Maximoffs.” I gestured toward Cap. “What about the bird man you’re friends with… Sam? I will train him.”

“Sam doesn’t need as much training, plus we’ve already assigned him a sparring partner. Pietro is the perfect partner for you, he needs a lot of combat training, something you’ll obviously excel in, and his lack of experience means you can teach him without hurting yourself more.”

Natasha gave me a knowing look then. “Plus, if this team is gonna work, you’re going to have to play nice with them. The whole cold shoulder isn’t great for team morale.”

It was evident that there was no amount of arguing that would change their minds. It was either accepting my fate or going back to wandering aimlessly around corridors until I was fully healed. I was under no illusions that I’d ever trust either of the Maximoff twins, nor come to like them, however, perhaps if I help Pietro to become a halfway decent Avenger, they’ll let me off the hook. The prospect of this being only a temporary endeavor had me seeking the silver-haired man out, albeit it begrudgingly, to begin training. The sooner I whipped him into shape, the sooner I could prove to Nat and Steve just how amicable I can be, and the sooner I can escape this hellscape of a partnership.

He smiled at me as I walked into the training room, amusement was evident on his features. Seemingly not too affected by the sharp words I’d spoken to him and his sister the other night. “I was not expecting to see you up again so soon.”

“Oh? Praying on my downfall?”

Pietro breathed a laugh. “No. Just generally it takes longer than 4 days for humans to bounce back from gunshot wounds. You know since we are not made of rubber.”

I rolled my eyes. “You were shot too, and you have ‘bounced’ back.”

“Only in the arm, and I wouldn’t say that. Wanda’s forcing me to be here.”

“How sad for you,” I said, exhaling heavily in an attempt to ignore the shooting pain in my side. “Now, show me your fighting stance.”

His expression turned incredulous. “Why? I already know how to fight.”

“Well, you could have fooled me.”

He crossed his arms then, narrowing his eyes at me from across the mat. The corner of his lip was quirked up, but his expression read irritation. “That is interesting considering I have beaten you before.”

“Yes, because you are fast.” I retorted almost instantly, mirroring his stance as I folded my arms. “Do not confuse your enhancements with actual skill. Without it, you would not have stood a chance, now show me your stance.” Begrudgingly he moved to stand with his feet apart, hands braced in fists before him. I circled him, studying his form. “Really? This is it?” He huffed, dropping his arms to his side.

“I know how to fight, I really do not need your wisdom, thank you so much.”

I laughed at him again, shaking my head. “Get back into your stance.” He opened his mouth to argue but I cut him off. “You are so sure you can fight, so show me.”

He looked at me with wide eyes. “I cannot fight you.”

“Oh, I am aware of that.”

His jaw tensed at my words, and he closed his eyes momentarily. “I cannot fight you because you are hurt.” I was growing very tired of people saying that.

“I am fine. It is not as though you would be able to hurt me anyway.” He shoved me then; it was half-hearted and weak. I barely moved. “That was just insulting.”

He groaned and moved back into his fighting stance, huffing considerably. I waited for him to be ready and jabbed him in the ribs quickly, it was not hard enough to actually hurt him, but enough that he jolted. Before he could respond I jabbed him in the other side, slightly harder. “What the hell are you doing.”

“Your stance is too open; you’re not blocking anything standing like that.” He looked at me with raised eyebrows, his hands moving to sit on his hips. I gave him another once over. “Move your feet, shoulder-width apart.” For a moment he did not move, staring me down stubbornly. I crossed my arms over my chest, watching him with raised eyebrows. Eventually, he gave in, moving his feet to sit beneath his shoulders. “Bend your knees.” He did as I said. I kicked the back of one of his sneakers, causing him to bring it forward. Not without glaring back at me first. I continued to point out each part of his stance that he needed to adjust until it was right.  

“Does this meet your standards?” He spoke sarcastically. A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips. I circled him once more, eyes scanning up and down him. His broad shoulders were tense as he held the stance, awaiting my next critique. I took a step toward him, kicking the back of his knee, causing him to fall forward. He groaned; pure frustration evident in the sound. “You are very annoying you know that?”

I scoffed at him. “Oh well there you go, something we have in common after all.”

He faced me then, moving back into the fighting position I’d shown him. A chuckle passed his lips as he watched me. “Okay, so what now?”

“Now you learn to block.”

“Block?”

Before he’d finished speaking, I threw another jab at him hitting him in the side once more. He sighed exasperatedly before telling me to hit him again. I threw a harder punch now, but he caught my right wrist, in the blink of an eye, twisting it to restrain my arm behind my back. “Relying on your enhancement again.” I tsked.

“Why not use the tools at my disposal?”

“Fine. What are you going to do next, Maximoff?” I knew I could get out of his hold without so much as breaking a sweat, but I was curious about what he could do, so I stayed put.

He wrapped a leg around mine. “Now,” his breath was hot on my ear as he spoke, I’d never admit that goosebumps rose across my arms. “I’ll lay you on your back.” There was a smugness to his tone that made what happened next so much more enjoyable. I quickly stepped to the left before pivoting to face him, my arm now straightened rather than trapped behind my back. In a panicked attempt to regain control, he clung to my wrist with both hands. Without a moment’s hesitation, I twisted to step between his legs and bend my knee whilst, simultaneously, pulling him toward me. My thigh jammed into the back of his knee, sending him tumbling down onto the mat. I turned away from him then, squeezing my eyes shut and tensing as that shooting pain in my side returned, almost sharp enough to have me crying out. With gritted teeth, I inhaled deeply through my nose, willing my composure to return before I faced him once more. “That was bullshit.” I grinned despite the agony, ignoring the pain as I glanced at him over my shoulder.

“It’s not my fault you are so shit.” I ignored his glare, turning from him once again. “Meet me back here tomorrow at 7 am. You are going to need a lot of practice if you stand a chance of catching up even halfway to any of us.”

He scoffed. “How encouraging, really you should take up motivational speaking.”

I doubled up on gauze the next day to add extra padding to my wound in hopes it would dull the pain slightly. It did very little. This routine continued, he’d turn up to training, I’d teach him how to block different attacks and he’d attempt to best me only to fail every time. Four days passed and I was willing to admit he seemed far more receptive to learning from me than he had on day one.

Sweat beaded on my forehead as I easily blocked Pietro’s attack, he was finally putting some effort into his movements. He was still way behind where he needed to be but in just four days, I’d already seen improvement. I believed I could get up to scratch and then I could rub it in Steve and Natasha’s faces and go back to pretending he did not exist. He caught one of my jabs, twisting my arm behind my back just as he had the first day.

“Really, this again?” I teased, but he pressed a hand in the side of my arm, preventing me from stepping out of the hold as I had before. The corners of my lips quirked up. “You are not as stupid as you look.” He chuckled, tightening his hold, and pushing me down further.

“Huh, I think I prefer you in this position, Prinţesă.”

I rolled my eyes at the cockiness that seemed to emanate from him as he held me. I let him believe he had the upper hand, waiting to see what he did next. However, the moment I predicted his next maneuver, I sent my free arm back toward him, extending at the last minute to slam the side of my fist into him. He let me go and moved quickly into his defensive stance, not giving up so easily. The spike of excitement I felt in that moment at his challenge surprised me, but it also distracted me from guarding my injured side. He side-stepped me quickly and attempted to put me in a chokehold, but I tucked my chin quickly, twisting my body to elbow him hard in the ribs. Not thinking about how the sudden contraction of my side would affect the still-healing wound. Try as I might, I could not stop the cry of pain from tumbling from my lips. The second it did Pietro’s grip disappeared from me, and he quickly appeared before me, concern evident across his features.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Holding a hand to my side, I moved away from him to lean against the wall, before sliding into the bench seat in front of it. I shut my eyes and attempted to wrestle the pain down. It seared through me no matter how hard I tried. “Should I get the doctor? Do you have medicine in your bag?” He continued rambling at me, but I ignored him. “Nadia, tell me how I can help.”

“I do not want your help.” I forced out through gritted teeth.

In a blur he grabbed the duffel I’d brought into the training room, selecting the bottle of painkillers and water before kneeling before me. I turned my face away from him.

“чертов ад” Fucking hell. “Seriously, go away, Pietro!” He ignored me, jerking the painkillers toward me once more. I slapped his hand away from me, causing the orange bottle to fly out of his hands, he watched as it skidded across the mat.

He gave me an indignant look in response, moving to stand before me. “Why do you do this?! I am trying to help you; I want to help you, so why won’t you let me or anyone else do anything?”

“I already told you I do not want your help!”

“Nadia-”

“No!” He was silenced by this for a moment. “You do not know me, Pietro. You met me 5 seconds ago and all of a sudden you think you know everything. That’s why you want to help me because you think you have me all figured out. You don’t… and if you I did you would not want to help me.”

He scoffed. “Yes, I would.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not stupid”

I stood abruptly then, taking a step toward him. “Yes, you are! If you really want to help me, you are. You do not know the things I have done.” He ran a hand through his hair, causing strands of silver to fall around his forehead.

“It does not matter what you have done Nadia.”

“Doesn’t it? Are you sure or is that just what you think because you cannot imagine how awful my past is?”

“My sister and I helped Ultron!” I was surprised by the sudden raise of his voice. “Those people, the ones who lost their lives, all that damage to Sokovia… that is on us.”

I shook my head at him. “That is not your fault.”

He disagreed.

“You made a bad choice, yes, but Ultron was the one who killed those people.” 

Pietro shook his head, scrubbing at his face with his hands as he dropped into the seat against the wall. “We could have stopped it before it got that far.”

“So maybe you could have… maybe you couldn’t. You cannot spend your life wondering what would have happened if you chose differently, it’s a waste of time because it’s already happened. There’s no changing it now. In the end, you made the right choice, that’s what matters.” I could feel his eyes on me as I sat beside him. “Your sister said that Stark cannot tell the difference between saving the world and destroying it… maybe none of us can. All we can do is try to make things a little better. We do what we can, and we hope for the best. That is all.”

We sat in silence for a long while. “Is the whole motivational speaking thing something they teach you at Avenger’s Academy?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes at his jest. “I did not go to Avenger’s academy.”

He laughed glancing over at me again. “You know that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” I shrugged, biting back the smile that was fighting to spread across my lips. “It is good advice, Nadia… maybe you should take it sometime.” I bristled at that, but he didn’t seem to notice, or he chose to ignore it. Instead, a blur of blue and silver appeared and before I knew it, he was back beside me, orange bottle in hand. I shook my head at him but he simply extended his hand toward me with a little white pill in the palm and a water bottle in the other hand. “You saved my life, at least let me do something for you.” His gaze was gentle as it met mine, a strange feeling passing over me as I watched him. I think maybe I preferred it when he was the enemy.

“You’re really fucking irritating, you know that?” I snatched the painkiller and water from him, downing both and leaning my head back against the wall. He only laughed in response.

Natasha’s frame filled my line of sight a few moments later, she raised an eyebrow as she surveyed Pietro and me. “Doing okay, Nads?”

I opened my mouth to respond, however, before I’d managed to get a single word out Pietro was butting in. “Her wound started hurting during training.” I sent a sharp glare his way, disbelief no doubt evident on my face as I stared him down.

Natasha had insisted I see Dr. Cho and that she accompany me. I was merely waiting for the lecture as we walked down the corridors leading to the medical wing. She was eerily silent, but I could feel how badly she wanted to say something.

There was blood when the doctor removed my bandages, not an alarming amount, but a steady trickle of crimson escaping my healing wound. The woman before me tsked, cleaning the blood and applying some kind of salve before butterfly bandages. “The damage isn’t too serious, it's just a bit of irritation. I’d recommend keeping the bandages for an additional week, just to keep it safe if you are going to continue training, but after the week I’m anticipating that you’ll have made some solid strides in healing, and it shouldn’t give you so much trouble.”

“Thank you.”

“But again, I would recommend taking the higher dosage meds, they’ll save you a lot of pain.”

I shook my head before telling her the same thing I had told her the last time. I’d stick with the run-of-the-mill painkillers.

“Fine, I’ll give you a refill then.” She paused upon opening the bottle of my current meds, glancing up at me momentarily. “Have you been taking these?” I said yes. “But not consistently? This bottle is almost full, the dosage is six pills a day; morning, noon, and night.” 

I shrugged. “I am aware, I did not need that many.”

The room turned glacial. I could feel Natasha’s gaze on me as Dr. Cho reluctantly accepted what I had said and left the room. The glare Nat fixed me with was lethal.

“What the hell, Nadia…” I rolled my neck before unraveling a new sheet of gauze to wrap around my torso. Evidently, my lack of a response prompted Nat to continue. “Not only are you not taking strong enough painkillers, you’re barely taking the others either! Why?”

I shrugged once again. “All these fancy Western medicines have made everyone so weak.”

She regarded me with a hard look, not so much as offering a smile in response to my taunting words.  “Why do you do this to yourself, Nadia? Why do you force yourself to endure it all?”

“I’m not doing anything to myself, Natasha. I don’t take the meds because I don’t need them.”

She was silenced for a long while then. Watching me, studying my every twitch and minute expression. “Don’t let him live in your head…” she finally said.

I asked her what she was talking about.

“Weakness leaving the body? That’s what he used to say right?” I looked away from her, closing my eyes for a moment. “It’s bullshit!”

With a roll of my eyes, I regarded her again. “I know that, Natasha.”

“So why won’t you take the goddamn pills?”

“Because I do not want to lose my fucking mind!” I hadn’t meant for it to come out as explosive as it had, it was as if the words clawed their way from my throat and into the air between us. “I don’t want to take pills that make me feel nothing…” I was quieter now. “…I’ve been there and done that, I’m not doing it again. I’ll take all of the pain if it means I know where I am. Know who I am.”

“I get that. Of course, I do, Nadia. But you and I both know there’s more to it than that.”

I finished tying the gauze, choosing to ignore her words. She waited, standing beside the bed for a long while. Eventually, she let out an exasperated sigh, throwing her hands up and turning to leave the room. “Why you punish yourself like this… I’ll never understand, but you don’t deserve it, Nadia.” With that, she was gone, and the room was plunged into silence once more. I pulled my shirt down over the fresh bandages and dragged my hands up and down my thighs.

“Nadia?” I turned my head to see Pietro standing in the doorway watching me carefully. A sour expression was no doubt evident across my face. “What did the doctor say?”

I exhaled deeply. “Just fuck off, Pietro.” With that, I slipped off of the bed and walked back to my room, no longer in the mood for human interaction.

…

Four days turned into 10; 10 days spent primarily in the gym with Pietro. He was definitely improving quickly, it was actually quite impressive, not that I ever let him know that. I was tough on him every day, taunting and critiquing. His irritation was palpable and yet, it was making him better. Natasha and Steve had been pleasantly surprised by the strides I’d made with Pietro, though they were only in the training sessions. Outside of that I gave him the cold shoulder or, more accurately the glacial shoulder. He tried to interact with me, often, and each time I fixed him with an icy glare or sharp taunt, yet each time he came back for more. It was almost as if he enjoyed my disdain. It enraged me to no end. I had been lucky enough to be successful in avoiding his sister for the most part, although, evidently, my lucky streak was coming to an end.

I’d sent Pietro off to do cardio whilst I did the gentle rehabilitation stretches Helen Cho had recommended. It was somewhat demeaning to have to treat my body so very cautiously so as not to harm it any further. I sensed someone approaching me from behind as I sat on the floor.

“What do you want?” My tone was cold and indifferent as I regarded her.

She was nervous, I could tell, maybe she hadn’t thought this through. “I-I just wanted to talk to you. To clear the air between us.”

“Consider it clear, witch,” I spoke just as coldly as I had the first time.

“I do not expect it to be easy for you to trust me, not after what I did. Yet, I do want to try. I want us to be teammates, maybe even friends.” I remained silent, not even sparing her a glance. “It will take time, but I want you to know that I am determined to prove myself to you, Nadia.”

I scoffed. “Why? What does it matter what I think of you? I’m not the captain of this team.”

“No, but you are an important part of it.” Her voice was gentle as she spoke to me, it irritated me. “I know that you don’t particularly like me, and I don’t blame you… but, you have a good heart, Nadia. I’ve seen it, and I want you to know that I am not the person that you think I am despite what I did to you.”

That caught my attention, I glanced at her momentarily, biting back a laugh. “Oh, you’ve seen my good heart, have you? When exactly?”

“In Sokovia.” I rolled my eyes at her, looking back down at my hands as I continued to stretch. “And in the shipyard.” The words stopped me in my tracks. “I dipped into each of your minds to bring your greatest fear to the surface, but for you it was different.” My heart was racing as she spoke, and my stomach began to churn. “Your mind it… it reeked of guilt, it was all I felt when I looked into your memories, it was almost unbearable for me to be in there.” I gritted my teeth, my lungs struggling to take in air as she continued. “I did not see everything, obviously, but what I did see was pain and agonizing remorse. I am sorry for invading your privacy, and perhaps this is out of line but… Whatever you have done, you are not a bad person. You should forgive yourself, Nadia.”

Goosebumps rose across my flesh and there were so many things rushing through my mind that it was becoming overwhelming, yet, at the forefront was rage so blinding it threatened to swallow me whole. I turned back toward her, sharp gaze meeting hers as a venomous, tight-lipped smile spread over my lips. “What did you just say to me?”

“I could feel your pain, the torment you force yourself to endure as penance.”

I gritted my teeth, hands clenching at my sides as she spoke. Heat rose up my spine and rage simmered within my blood. The red was there then, in the corners of my vision, pulsing, calling to me, begging me to let it consume me. “I really do not think it is in your best interest to continue, witch.” Natasha was watching me carefully then; I could feel her gaze on me. I felt like I could barely breathe, there was so much anger filling every crevice of my being that I felt ready to erupt any minute.

“Wanda…” Natasha spoke, stepping forward and giving her a look that was likely meant to quiet her.

The witch’s eyes softened further as she glanced back to me. “I’m sorry, Nadia. I am not trying to upset you; I just want to help you.”

“Oh, you Maximoffs, always so fucking insistent on ‘helping’.” I laughed humorlessly, clenching my fists so tightly I was sure I’d break the skin. “You want to know how you can help me, Wanda?” There was so much venom in my tone I was surprised she didn’t recoil. “You can stay the fuck out of my head!” I was yelling but I could barely hear my own voice. I turned from her swiftly storming out of the room before the red became too much. My legs were trembling as I fled the room, heart racing and stomach churning. I was stumbling down corridors to get away but soon there was too much going on in my head and I fell into the wall, doubling over before sliding to the ground and pulling my knees to my chest, just as I had that day in the shipyard.

“Nadia. Hey, take a breath, it’s okay.” I attempted to move away from the voice, pressing the heels of my palms into my closed eyes to make it all stop. “It’s just me, Natasha. Listen to my voice.” I shook my head, gripping the roots of my hair.

The classical music was back and so was the leotard, it suffocated me, cracking my ribs and crushing my body. It was all back, all happening to me again. The graduation ceremony, the ice water being poured over my frail body, the heavy boots hitting my ribs again and again. The clicking of a gun trigger as it was pulled day after day, pointed at my head, until I stopped flinching at it. The grass crunched beneath my feet as I took a step forward, lifting the gun to aim it at her head. Blood spattered onto my face, my clothes, my flesh covered in it, over and over. I felt their pulses stop beneath my fingertips; I saw the smiling faces of children in frayed pictures that lived in wallets.

I yanked at the leotard trying desperately to pull it off, to let myself breathe.

“Nadia, listen to me, block everything else out just listen to the sound of my voice.” I was trying so hard to only hear Natasha but everything else was so overwhelming it was almost impossible. “It’s not real, not anymore, Nadia. It’s over, I promise, just open your eyes.”

I shook my head; I could feel the hot tears streaming down my face as I gasped for air. “I can’t. I can’t. It’s back.” The words were hard to get out when I couldn’t breathe.

“What’s back?” I kept yanking at the leotard, desperately trying to free myself. “Is it the red? The red is back?”

How did she know about the red?

“You told me about it, do you remember?” Her voice was gentle but sure. “When we were in the Red Room, you told me about the red, but we’re not in the Red Room anymore. It’s okay.” I cried harder; the sound made me sick. “Pietro. Get her some water, now.” Pietro? Why was he here? Why was Pietro in the Red Room with me? A breeze flew past me then. “You have to stop pulling at the gauze, you’re going to pop your stitches, just take a breath.” Why didn’t she get it, Natasha didn’t understand that I couldn’t breathe with the leotard on. The sound of gunshots echoed through my ears. I felt the shrill of his voice as he told me to pull the trigger.

“I need it off. I can’t breathe! I need to take it off.”

Another voice cut through all the others; it was different. It was a voice that had never been in the Red Room. “What is it? What do you need to take off?” Pietro asked. His voice sounded close.

“I-it… The leotard.” I kept yanking at it.

“Okay.” He said gently. “Let me help you.” His hands were warm when they wrapped around mine. He pulled my hands away from the fabric, replacing them with his own as he peeled the material from me. “It’s gone, you can breathe now.” I shook my head opening my mouth, but his voice came again. “Just try, breath in slowly through your nose.” I tried my best, taking in as much air as I could. “Now hold it and breathe out through your mouth.” My body trembled violently making it far harder to follow his instructions, but I did as he said. Eventually, the air filled my lungs, slightly more rapidly than normal but far better than before. I felt what I assumed was his shirt graze my shins. “Will you open your eyes, Nadia?” I shook my head. His hands enveloped mine once more, bringing them away from my sides and pressing them to his chest. I flinched at the contact, attempting to recoil but he held my hands firm. The rhythmic thump of his heartbeat against my palm was too real to ignore. “Do you feel that I am real? I am here with you. You are not in that place anymore. Open your eyes and see.”

I told him I couldn’t.

“You won’t hurt me if you do… I promise.”

The thought of how the world looked bathed in red prompted me to keep my eyes shut tightly. “I don’t want to, but I can’t stop it.”

His hands squeezed mine. “You won’t.

“You don’t know that.”

I could feel the heat radiating from him, it was easy to focus on. “No, I don’t… but I trust you.” In that moment I realized that everything else had disappeared, there were no more gunshots, no more classical music, the leotard was gone and so was Dreykov. I pressed my face into my knees. “Open your eyes, Nadia. Look at me.”

Slowly, I let my eyes open, looking first at my own legs before traveling up slowly. I saw my hands in his, pressed firmly to his chest over the dark blue shirt, his silver hair, and his bright blue eyes that were trained on me. There was no red, no frozen grass, just Pietro. My face was damp, and my body was still shaking. I did not know what to say to him, so I just watched him. We were not in the Red Room; he was kneeling on the floor in front of me. On his lap was the gauze that had been wrapped around my wound, it had never been a leotard, he took it off so I stopped pulling, so I wouldn’t rip my stitches accidentally. He let go of my hands slowly, letting them fall back to his lap along with the bandage. I looked over to see Natasha, she quickly wiped tears from her eyes and gave me a weak smile. “Hey, Nads.” I pulled my legs tighter to my chest, laying my cheek against my knees and looking away from both of them.

Chapter Text

A month had passed, and I was long free of the bandages, Dr. Cho had worked her magic on my wound and it was mostly healed, allowing me to train more fully and get Natasha and Cap off my back. The next step was to whip Pietro into shape so I could rub their faces in it and be free of him.

We hadn’t spoken about the incident in the hallway since it happened, I was more than happy to keep it that way.

I wandered back into the training room as I sipped water from my bottle, patting the sweat from my face after an intense cardio session. Pietro and I were scheduled to train later today but until then we’d been working out separately. I surveyed the surrounding area as I placed my drink bottle down beside my gym bag, Cap was sparring with Sam whilst Vision did… something bizarre in the corner on his own. I ignored the peculiar red man, looking around for the annoying Sokovian I was supposed to be training with. When my eyes found him, he was positioned before one of the punching bags, hitting it again and again. There was a sheen of sweat gleaming across his forehead and focus was written across his features. I swallowed heavily as my eyes trailed over his form, telling myself I was just ensuring he was using the correct fighting stance that I’d taught him; he was. I certainly did not notice the way his back muscles rippled when he threw his fist toward the bag, nor did I notice how his dark blue shirt clung to his toned body from the sweat. His stance was good, much better than when we’d begun training. He took hold of the bottom of his shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow and exposing the pale skin beneath, defined muscles and sharp lines all visible to me when it rode up his stomach. Yes, his stance was really good. Great form.

“Morning.” The voice startled me slightly, pulling me from my thoughts.

I narrowed my eyes at Cap, he hadn’t quite snuck up on me, but I had certainly been engrossed in what I was doing. “Morning,” I mumbled.

“He seems like he’s improving, you’re doing a good job getting him into shape.”

“He’s progressing well.” I nodded, not daring a glance back at the silver-haired man. “He does, however, have an attitude problem. Which is problematic.”

Steve chuckled at my words, glancing at me with mirth in his eyes. “You know, I used to say the same thing about you.” I glared at him. “Still do actually.” He added. I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest as I huffed exasperatedly.

“I never had an attitude; I just knew better than you.” I taunted. He raised an eyebrow at me then. “Still do,” I added, imitating him. He offered me an unimpressed look, though, I did not miss the way his lips upturned as he walked away. Unwittingly, I glanced back at Pietro who was now gulping down water from his drink bottle. For a long moment I watched the way his throat moved as he swallowed the water, Adam’s apple bobbing rhythmically. Forcing myself to look away, I turned back to my gym bag using my towel to wipe my face once more, even though the sweat was all gone. I felt a gust of air around me and when I pulled the towel away from my face Pietro stood across from me. “Can I help you?”

The corner of his lips quirked up as he watched me. “Are we going to spar, Prinţesă?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Do not call me that.” His smile grew at my tone. “What is it, idiot? Just spit it out.”

He put his hands up in defense as he began walking back over to the punching bag. “I was just going to say that maybe you should stare at me every time I work out, I think I perform better when you watch.”

I rolled my eyes, scoffing at him. “Good god, you are delusional. I was watching to find flaws in your stance.”

He grinned back at me, coming to a stop so abruptly that I almost ran straight into him. “And did you find any?” I did not dignify him with a response. “Don’t worry, Nadia, I do not blame you for looking, I do offer the best view around here.”

God he was infuriating, I circled him on the mat, feeling even more excited than usual to put him on his ass. “Less talking, more fighting.”

“Interesting, nothing to say huh?” He walked opposite me on the mat, an air of arrogance to him that irked me more than usual. “I didn’t think it’d be so easy to render you speechless.” I jabbed him but he blocked it easily, I almost smiled. He blocked two more attacks after that. “See I do listen.”

“So, miracles really do happen.”

He smirked at me. “Well, it’s not hard to listen to you when you talk so sweet. Although your pretty face is a little distracting, I’ll admit.”

I swept his feet from beneath him, causing him to fall to the ground. “I think you ought to start paying less attention to my pretty face, lest you continue to fail miserably in your mission to best me in a round of sparring.” When he was on his feet once more, he moved quickly, throwing a hit which I quickly dodged, but in favor of pinning me he chose to simply lunge for me and pull me to the ground. “That was really stupid,” I muttered as I lay beneath him.

“Says the one who’s pinned to the mat.”

“Pinned? You sure about that?” Within a single maneuver, I’d flipped us, and he was on his back beneath me.

I looked down at him triumphantly, however, the look faltered as I saw his smirking face. “Maybe I was wrong about being the best view around here, this is so much better.” With a huff I pushed myself off of him, standing and dusting myself off.

“Get up, and this time try harder, this is getting a little sad for you.”

He chuckled. “Wow, you certainly have a way with words.”

Almost two hours later we sat side by side, sweaty and worn out from the vigorous training we’d just undertaken. Pietro took a large few gulps from his water bottle.

“You know… I have been meaning to apologize to you.”

“For what.”

“That day in the corridor, I touched you without asking.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “I was really worried, and I didn’t know how to bring you out of it without touching you, but I know you don’t like it and I should have asked, so I am sorry.”

A few beats of silence passed between us. He continued unwrapping his hands, seemingly unphased by the tension in the air. His words had taken me completely by surprise. I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that, I had been prepared to pretend that what occurred that day hadn’t happened. “Okay.” I breathed, it was quiet and simple, but I didn’t know what else to say. There were words on the tip of my tongue, but they felt too heavy to speak. I closed my eyes tightly and swallowed heavily. “Thank you, Pietro.” It felt odd to say, uncomfortable, but he needed to hear it.

I could feel his gaze on me, prompting me to open my eyes and look over at him. His clear blue eyes danced across my features. He nodded at me slowly, his focus on my so unwavering that it made my skin prickle. “Anytime.” He mumbled earnestly. That single word had so much weight to it that it felt like a punch to the chest.

“Okay enough chit-chat, get off your ass, and let’s try again.”

He glanced at me in disbelief, shaking his head as a laugh tumbled from his lips.

…

“Good morning, good morning, my friends.” Came a sing-song tone. I glanced over my shoulder to see Tony Stark wandering into the kitchen tapping away at an iPad screen. Steve greeted him from his spot at the table. “Nads, how are you, jaded as ever?”

I turned toward him so he could see my exaggerated eye roll. “Only when you’re around.”

“Ha ha...” He sat down across from Cap at the table. “The good doctor says the wounds healing up well.”

I chose not to respond, simply humming and piling spinach into the blender along with a whole bunch of fruits.

“Mr. Stark.” Pietro’s voice greeted. “I-”

The loud whir of the blender filling the room cut him off.  When I turned back around, I saw Tony smirking into his coffee, whilst Pietro watched me with raised eyebrows. Cap seemed none the wiser.

“Oh, hey Tony, miss us already?” Nat spoke as she entered the room, dropping into a seat at the island, before glancing between Pietro and me. I ignored his gaze and the way his lips upturned at the corners as he watched me.

“Good morning, Nadia.” He drawled. My eyes darted up to him momentarily, expression blank before I looked back down to the green smoothie that was filling my glass. He reached across the island and plucked up one of the uncut apples that sat before me, taking a large bite from it. I could still feel his gaze on me. “Can I ask you something?”

I sighed exasperatedly. “I suspect that you will no matter what I say?”

“You tend to be quite a bitch to me, why is that?”

Suddenly all eyes were on us. I raised an eyebrow at his crude words, I’d admit to being mildly surprised he’d had the nerve to confront me. What I wouldn’t admit was how pleased I was to find him willing to bite. “Is that what I am? A bitch?”

“It certainly seems that way to me.” He had that smart-ass smirk on his lips as he gazed at me, leaning against the opposite side of the island bench chewing his apple. I studied him for a long moment, deadly still and equally as silent. There was a palpable tension in the room from our onlookers as Pietro remained in place, unflinching. I sipped from my drink, reveling in the uncomfortable atmosphere. There was not a single sound in the room, save for Pietro’s chewing. Cap looked as though he wanted to intervene though I saw Tony put a hand on his shoulder from my peripheral. I was unable to stop my lips from curving upwards as Pietro refused to give.

“It’s a disease,” I responded, turning on my heel and exiting the kitchen with my smoothie in hand.

Before I could get far, I overheard Tony saying to Pietro, “I mean she must like you at least a little, kid, considering she didn’t bite your goddamn head off for saying something as stupid as that to her.”

The blue and silver streak whooshed past me in the hallway, stopping before me. “I’m sure they have something for that.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you blathering about now?”

“Your disease…” He grinned at me. I sent him a glare in response. He plucked my glass out of my hand and took a large sip of my smoothie, beaming at me as my eyes narrowed even further. He hummed in contentment, glancing down at the drink and nodding. “That is delicious.”

“Oh, I am so glad you approve. Get out of my way now.”

He rolled his head on his shoulders, chuckling at me. “We are going to be friends; you know this right?”

“You are telling me this?”

He smiled. “Just wait and see, Prinţesă.”

I yelled at him not to call me that as he began speeding off down the hall. “Oh,” he stopped momentarily, glancing at me over his shoulder. “They are going to send us on an assignment together you know. I overheard Cap talking to Stark.” With that, he was gone.

The moment his words processed in my mind I was turning quickly on my heel and re-entering the kitchen where Sam had now joined the table with a bowl of cheerios. “You cannot put me on assignment with that, moronic, bumbling, idiot!” Tony dropped his iPad onto the table.

“I told you that little shit, Pietro, was eavesdropping.”

“Nothing is decided yet, Nadia. There is a job, but we’re still figuring out the logistics.” Steve spoke, continuing to eat calmly.

I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest and moving further into the room. “Great, I’ll do it myself, no need to assign a second body.”

Stark snorted. “Yeah, no-can-do kid, as scary good as you are in the field… seriously it’s a little frightening… this is a two-person job.” I glanced to Nat who immediately shook her head.

“You agreed to play nice, Nads, that means working with him, not cutting him out of missions.”

Without responding to her words, I turned immediately to Sam, with raised eyebrows. He looked between Cap and me. “No way, I’m not getting involved in this.” He said, jamming a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

I groaned, throwing my arms in the air theatrically. “He isn’t ready for the field. He’ll get himself killed.”

“Aw, so you do care?” Tony taunted.

“I care about having backup I can rely on. Pietro is not that.”

Steve bit back a smile, glancing up at me as his fork clattered down onto his plate. “You know what, Nads, I think you’ve just made the decision for us. You and Pietro will be going on this mission together, it’s both of you or neither of you.”

I glared at him so sharply that I was almost sure that he’d burst into flames if I looked any longer. “Hey, you know what, why don’t we start this beautiful partnership off right and you and Speedy can go ahead and cook dinner for all of us,” Tony added, adjusting his glasses, a look of pure amusement on his face.

…

I punched harder at the bag before me, ignoring the sweat that beaded on my forehead and the way hair clung to the nape of my neck. Bouncing on my feet, endorphins pumped through my system, prompting me to keep hitting. Occasionally, I’d throw a kick in to change my rhythm. It came easily to me now, like breathing.

The red had not returned since the day in the hallway, there was no tinge or hint at the corner of my vision that taunted me and when I blinked it never came back. I had, however, dreamt of that strange woman every night since we’d returned from Sokovia. It was as though she had infected my mind, her essence clung to me, and I could not shake it. I did not know who she was, nor did I understand the bizarre, blurry moments that my mind showed me each night when I closed my eyes.

A voice cut through my thoughts and prompted me to punch harder. “Do you ever rest?”

“Fuck off.”

“Charming,” Pietro responded, not put off in the slightest by my bad mood. He stood off to the side, watching me. “You’re good at that.”

“How kind of you.”

At this, he sighed. “I am trying to be nice to you. You know that, right?”

I stopped, tightening the wraps around my hands, and rolling my neck on my shoulders. Moving forward a couple of steps, I put a hand to the bag to steady it, glancing over my shoulder at Pietro briefly. “I’ve been training since I was a child,” I admitted, looking straight ahead.

“In the Red Room?” I tensed at his words. “You mentioned it… in the hallway that day, sorry if I’m overstepping.”

Tightening my fists, I began to strike the bag again. “Yes. In the Red Room.” It was quiet, he didn’t push further. “I was 5 years old when they started training me, I didn’t know any different.” Each time my fists slammed into the punching bag it felt like a bundle of nerves unraveled slightly, letting me breathe a little easier. “I am good at this, because we had to be.” There was a long silence between us, the only sound that filled the room was my fists against the synthetic material. He didn’t speak for a while, though I knew he was still there, I could feel his gaze lingering on me.

“Will you teach me?” He, eventually, asked.

I stopped again. “You don’t know how to hit a punching bag?”

“I think we both know that I do…” I rolled my eyes at his words, though a small smile tugged at my lips, a soft breath coming from me; almost a laugh. “…But you do it better than me.” The urge to offer a taunting retort in response was strong, though, I decided against it. Instead, I turned to grab the roll of black hand wraps and toss them toward Pietro. “No gloves?”

“Punching with wraps makes you stronger.” It was snarky the way I’d responded, and irrespective of the way his lips quirked I regretted it. The thought startled me, God was I seriously getting soft in the face of this idiot? “Punching with wraps will help your wrists get stronger, it will improve you’re punching in the field… You can wear gloves if you prefer though.” His eyes met mine as my tone turned slightly gentler. His blue eyes held me in their gaze for a long while, there was something unreadable in them, a slight furrow to his brow as he watched me. The look he was giving me made my skin prickle with goosebumps. I cleared my throat quickly, shaking my head as if to rid myself of the thoughts. “Okay, come on, I’ll show you.” I moved into the fighting stance I’d shown him many times. “It’s Muay Thai,” I told him. I threw a punch at the bag and asked him to replicate it. He did but it lacked the power mine had held. There was strength there, but he wasn’t throwing a skillful punch, rather relying on brute strength. I shook my head at him.

“That was shit?” He asked, a self-deprecatingly chuckle coming from him.

“Not shit, you just need to adjust the way you throw the punch.” I circled him to stand directly in front of him. “It’s like I say to you when we spar, don’t just use your upper body, you’re strong, but it lacks power.”

“You think I’m strong, Prinţesă?”

I rolled my eyes but chose not to respond to his baiting words. “Put your whole body behind an attack. That’s a rule to live by when you throw a punch or kick.” I move toward the bag again. “Get in your position, open the foot in front to create a center for you to rotate on, then push off your back foot and follow through.” I threw a hard jab at the bag to demonstrate again.” He took my place at the bag, mirroring the position I had stood in and throwing another punch. “Good.” I nodded. When I took his place, I began walking him through the kick, it was the same principle.

He attempted to kick the bag, but it was a little weak, and he stumbled slightly. When he caught himself, he glanced at me, smiling sheepishly. “I’m guessing that’s wrong.”

I bit back a laugh, stepping closer to him and pointing to his foot. “You turned it back in, where should it be?” He glanced down and immediately righted the position. “Okay now move your other foot back and push off it to kick.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“It is,” I responded. He huffed, trying again, he did not stumble this time, but the kick still needed a lot of work. “That was better, but you need to follow through like I said.”

He groaned, putting his hands on his hips. “Follow through? I do not understand what this means.”

“It means, follow through.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You said you’d teach me, not bully me.”

I was sure if I rolled my eyes anymore, they’d end up permanently stuck in my head. “I am teaching you; you’re just not listening.” He took a step toward me, eyebrows raised on his forehead.

“Oh, I heard you just fine, Prinţesă. The problem isn’t my hearing, it’s your teaching?”

I arched an eyebrow at him, taking a step forward just as he had. “Stop calling me that. Open your front fucking foot. Kick off with your back foot, swing that very same back foot, and hit the fucking bag. Clear enough for you that time?” His jaw clenched, and without saying anything else he turned and kicked the bag again. “Jesus Christ hit the bag with your shin, not your foot!”

“I’ll hit the fucking bag with whatever I want to.”

“Okay fine, break your damn foot then, honestly it’ll be the most fun I’ve had since I started training you.”

The glare he sent me would’ve made me shiver if I weren’t… well me. “You told me to hit the bag with my foot.”

“Oh, I told you to act like an idiot, did I? You sure that’s what you want to go with.”

“Well, you certainly did not tell me to hit it with my shin.”

I clenched my fists at my side, God, he made me so mad. Every muscle in my body was strung tightly as I exhaled deeply. “Pietro, your shin bone is stronger than the bones in your feet, use your shin to hit the bag, not your foot.” He took a deep breath as well, turning back to the bag and throwing another kick. This one was much better, not perfect but far more powerful, he followed through, and he used his shin. “I suppose that will do.” He scoffed at my words, watching as I circled around him once again.

“That was very attractive, you can tell me the truth, I won’t judge you.”

“That was mediocre at best, now show me the kick in the context of a real fight.”

He turned to face me fully, eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

“Well, Pietro, because apparently, Steve Rogers is making it his personal mission to make my life a living hell. We will in fact be completing an assignment together and I’d prefer not to work with a mission partner who cannot fight for shit.” I moved into the correct fighting stance. “Now throw the kick again.” He huffed but did as I said, kicking weakly toward me, I dodged it and shook my head. “Properly.” I scolded. Using the side of my fist as a guide I showed him where to aim.

He asked me why, once again.

I swiftly threw the kick I’d been telling him to, hitting him perfectly. He crumpled to the ground. “There is a nerve there that does not particularly enjoy being hit by solid bone… and because I told you to.” I stepped away from him so he could practice. After a few tries and he was kicking it accurately, hitting the bag at the height of where my upper leg would be. I almost smiled at the kick he threw next, it was powerful and solid. “Yes, just like that, Pietro!” He visibly tensed, pausing momentarily. “Now add the kick into the cycle of your punches. Jab jab, kick. Show me.” He did, it was beautiful. He was sweating and a little red in the face when he turned to me again. I smiled at him, a rare and sincere smile. “Good job. Now do that in the field and we may survive the mission yet.”

Hours later, Pietro and I stood side by side staring blankly into the refrigerator that was open before us. I glanced over at him. “After you.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “What do you want me to do? I don’t even know what we’re making.” I huffed at him. “And by the look of it you don’t either.”

“Uh, yes I do.” My tone was petulant, and I wasn’t entirely sure what made it so impossible not to bite back when it came to him.

“Oh really? Then please, by all means after you.” I stepped toward the fridge, eyes darting from item to item.

With a sigh of exasperation, I slammed the door shut. “F.R.I.D.A.Y are you there.” I chose to ignore Pietro’s smug expression.

“Yes, Nadia, how can I help?”

I asked the AI to tell us what we should cook for dinner.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark has informed me that I’m not allowed to help you with this.”

That bastard. Pietro laughed as I cursed in Russian. “Oh, this is funny to you? I don’t see you offering suggestions as to what we can cook.”

“Hey, it’s your fault we’re here in the first place.” He spoke, walking past me to reopen the fridge. He began grabbing beef, potatoes, onions and a few other items as well.

I narrowed my eyes in his direction. “How is it my fault?!”

“If you weren’t so grumpy at me all the time, the others would get off your back.” He washed his hands and then began to unpackage and season the beef. “See I know that you like me, I can just tell, something in the blind rage you consistently direct at me… the others, they don’t see this.” I gritted my teeth as he spoke.

“See even more proof that you should not be my mission partner, I cannot get anything done with your delusional ass.”

“I am not delusional.”

“Well, you must be if you think that what I feel for you is anything other than complete and utter hatred.”

“Hate is a lot like love.” I gaped at his egregious audacity. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me?”

“What are you even making?”

“Goulash.” He said before telling me to grab a pot. “We used to eat it as children, it was the first dish my mother taught me to make.” I remained quiet at he spoke, the sound of his voice accompanied by the knife hitting the chopping board beneath. A loud crash cut through the peaceful silence when the pot I pulled from the cupboard knocked another onto the ground. The knife Pietro had been holding clattered onto the chopping board and he flinched, his hands immediately going to his ears. “Careful!” He almost shouted.

I stood immediately, straight as a board and tense at his sudden shift in demeanor. It wasn’t anger; it was fear that was potent in his tone. “I…” Carefully I picked one pot up, put it on the stove, and stowed the other back in the cabinet. He’d dropped his hands from his ears and had turned away from me, hands fisted at his sides. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to frighten you…”

“You didn’t.” He muttered quietly.

I wrung my hands, unsure how to proceed, but feeling that I should. “Pietro.” It was gentle, more so than I’d probably ever been with him. I took a step toward him, and he continued to face the opposite direction. “You cannot control the reaction your brain tells you to have. It is just trying to protect you.”

“From a falling pot?”

“It wasn’t the pot, it was the sound, wasn’t it?”  He scrubbed a hand over his face. I swallowed heavily, rubbing a hand over the nape of my neck. “I left the Red Room 9 years ago, almost an entire decade away from that place, and yet I still see those walls almost every time I close my eyes. I mean I lost my mind at Wanda even mentioning it. These things, the ones that haunt our minds, they don’t leave just because we want them to.” He turned his head slightly in my direction, still not facing me but it was better. “You shouldn’t punish yourself for it, Pietro.”

He turned to face me fully then, an unreadable expression on his face. “But you do.” I furrowed my eyebrows at him. “You punish yourself.”

I shook my head, turning back to the pot and turning the heat on. “It’s different,” I murmured. The sound of chopping continued then, rhythmic and calming.

Warmth radiated from him as he stepped beside me, adding the ingredients to the pot. “I don’t think it’s different.” He said, and then he looked at me and there weren’t any words that I could come up with in that moment. So, for once, I chose not to seek his buttons out. We continue to prepare dinner together, speaking occasionally, mostly teasing remarks. It was not lost on me that in the kitchen that night none of our taunts held any real bite.

When the other Avengers joined us that evening, they seemed pleasantly surprised to find us both intact and a meal waiting for them. The table filled up quickly, Natasha, Steve, Tony, Vision, and Sam all watched as Pietro brought over the steaming hot dish and placed it in the center of the table. Placing the last warm bread roll into the basket before following the silver-haired man to the table. Tony and Natasha were getting themselves drinks so there were a few options of seats open around the table. However, I silently selected the one beside Pietro, ignoring the looks that were given to me and selecting the crunchiest-looking roll from the basket. When the table was full, I met Tony’s eyes from across the table, his gaze had been settled on me for a long while when I finally gave in and looked up, raising a single eyebrow at him. He was no longer able to contain his amused grin as it erupted across his features. I rolled my eyes as he began wiggling his eyebrows childishly at me.

“What now?” I huffed, watching the steam pour from the bread I’d just torn into. The sound of a glass hitting the table and water splashing caught my attention. Yet, when I looked up from my plate, I was not surrounded by the people I knew. It was blurry and warm and there was an unfamiliar boy across the table from me.

“This is why we can’t have nice things, I guess.” Tony was speaking but it was not him before me. I narrowed my eyes at the dark-haired boy who patted frantically at the spillage before it started dripping onto his lap.

I blinked and it was Tony again, mopping up the water from the glass he’d knocked over. “What, haven’t you invented a gadget to prevent your clumsiness?” Pietro asked, raising an eyebrow at the bemused man before him. I shook the strange moment from my mind, snickering slightly. All eyes seemed to turn to me for just a second. One scathing look from me had all but one looking away. I glanced, hesitantly, to the man beside me. A crooked grin stretched across his face as he gazed at me, eyebrows lifting ever so slightly. His gleeful expression had me rolling my eyes yet again and turning back to the food before me.

Chapter Text

“Your bodies belong to your country. Remember that.” A chill sat over the room, pricking at my bare skin as Matron Katerina circled us. There was snow falling outside, blanketing the landscape in powdery white. It made me think of the powdered sugar, like what they sprinkle on Tippaleipä . I’d never seen one until last week in Finland, I was there to eliminate an official who was being paid hush money by the Americans to allow CIA agents to sniff around under the radar. On either side of me stood lines of other Widows, awaiting inspection. It was a weekly procedure. Matron Katerina would measure us, check our wounds and ensure that we remained physically desirable to our marks and were not fatally ill. “This is how you show your patriotism.”  She said the same thing every time. I watched the window as frost spread across the glass as she wrapped the measuring tape around my waist.

It had been easy. To kill the official. It was a slice to his left femoral artery as he’d been climbing on top of me on the hotel bed, pants around his ankles. With my hand over his mouth, he bled out in 1 minute and 35 seconds. I stayed longer than I should have after, staring at the small picture of his wife and two daughters that he’d kept hidden in his wallet. It was old, worn, and had fold lines across it but, to me, it was beautiful. They would probably be better off without a father who leads 16-year-old girls to his hotel room after spending the night allowing his wandering hands to roam unchecked.

They did not ask us to let the targets fuck us. They told us to complete the mission, by whatever means necessary. I never let them go any further than believing they were taking me to bed, but I knew others had gone the rest of the way; whatever means necessary. That is what they mean, our bodies, they are not ours. We suffer the pains, the indignities, the torture, for our country. That is our first mission.

Matron Katerina’s fingers felt like the ice that coats the windows in the harsh Russian winter as they press against my skin. I don’t flinch, none of us do. We stand silent, unmoving, in our underwear until she dismisses us. I can see Yelena in my peripheral, staring straight ahead of us, awaiting her turn. She turned 17 yesterday, for her birthday I told her about the Tippaleipä dessert I’d seen on my mission. For the first time since Natasha left, she had seemed almost at ease.

Things were getting worse here. Dreykov had ordered that we get a new injection, they said it would make us stronger. I wasn’t sure I believed them.

“Is it weird to be home?” Pietro managed to get out around the half-chewed cookies stuffed in his mouth. I grimaced at the sight, extending the handle on my suitcase, and beginning toward the hotel before us. “Sorry, I think that might have been a stupid question.” I continued to ignore him as we approached the receptionist.

“Hello, I’m so sorry do you speak English at all, my Russian is terrible,” I spoke in a smooth American accent, a favorite of mine.

The woman behind the desk nodded at me. “Yes, I do, how can I help you?” I told her the name that our booking was under, the same one that had been on the fake documents given to Pietro and me. “Ah, yes, I see. Here is your keycard, Mr., and Mrs. Wharton.” I forced down another grimace at her words. “Enjoy your stay and welcome to Moscow.”

I accepted the card from her hands, offering her a warm smile as I turned, entering the elevator quickly. “How did you get so good at accents?”

“You’ve done the same accent as well.”

“Yes, but that’s just American, it’s all I can do.”

My hands were clenched in the pockets of my large coat. They had scarcely loosened since we stepped off the plane in Russia. “I’ve played a lot of roles.” My jaw was clenched I realized as my words came out around gritted teeth.

“Why so tense? Do you normally get so nervous on missions?” I closed my eyes, swallowing heavily as the elevator approached our floor. My stomach was churning, I had not been back here since… it had almost been 10 years, and yet it had never felt more recent. The wind, so cold it burned my flesh. “Are you ignoring me, now?”

“Fucking hell, just shut up, Pietro! Jesus, we should have demanded separate rooms, I cannot fucking stand you!” He rose his hands defensively, amusement evident on his features. I threw the door to our room open, abruptly stopping in my tracks. “I am going to fucking kill Stark.”

Pietro was honest-to-God giggling behind me as he peered over my shoulder at the solitary bed that lay in the center of the room. “I mean that solves the problem of the cold I suppose.”

“Keep going and I might accidentally smother you in your sleep.” The look in my eyes shut him up quickly. I was dialing the compound within the minute. “What the actual fuck?!” I shouted the second the line opened, not even asking who was on the phone.

“I’m gonna leave this with you, Tony.” I heard Steve mutter before a shifting sound filled the receiver.

A sigh filled my ears before his voice did. “Hi there, something I can help with?”

“You are not funny, Stark, book another room right now.”

He was quick with his reply, no hesitation whatsoever. “No can do, Nads. See, the cover is that you and Speedy are husband and wife, you need to look like it. Hence… marital bed.”

“I will fucking kill you!”

His chuckle echoed down the line. “It’s a nice hotel though, right? The reviews were killer, only the best for Mr. and Mrs. Wharton.” “Think of it like bonding time.”

“You’re a bastard and you better sleep with an eye open when this shit is finished.”

“That is a truly bone-chilling sentiment, Nads. Anywho, good luck!” With that, the line went dead and I was left with only Pietro who was currently lounging on the plush bed. I locked the door before throwing my luggage down and ripping apart the edible arrangement that sat on the table. Within it were our earpieces and my gun. I muttered curses as I tested out the equipment and hid the firearm, searching the room to locate the other places with concealed weapons, knives, an extra gun, and ammunition.

Pietro’s laughs only furthered my ire. “You have a filthy mouth, you know that?”

“Fuck you!” His laugh grew in volume. He interlocked his fingers and rested them behind his head as he watched me. I jammed the secret insert back into the drawer before slamming it closed, the sound of metal clattering and wood groaning under the force caused Pietro to sit up quickly. “Fuck!” I shouted, swiping the destroyed basket of food from the table, tugging at the roots of my hair.

Pietro was on his feet then, hands out before him, palms facing me. I kicked at the food that was now spread all over the marble floor. “Nadia, you need to take a breath.”

“Seriously just shut up. Get off your ass we need to get started!”

“What’s wrong with you?”

I laughed dryly, narrowing my eyes at him. “What’s wrong with me? You mean outside the obvious being here on a mission with your incompetent ass? Maybe it’s the fact that this whole thing is just a big fucking joke to everyone but you’re going to get us both fucking killed!”

The hurt was only visible in his eyes for a split second before he banished it, not entirely though. I still saw it, the way his blue eyes looked like they were melting as he watched me. His expression hardened. “So, what, you’re going to act like a child and throw things around because you didn’t get your way?” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“No, keep going, please it’s amusing to watch you lose your shit and behave like a spoilt brat.” I swung at him, but he caught my arm, pinning me to the bed in a blur of blue and silver.

I thrashed around in his hold. “Get off of me, prick!” He didn’t budge even slightly as I threw my body weight around, yanking and kicking. My face was hot, and my eyes were beginning to sting. “Fucking let me go, Pietro.”

“Not until you tell me the real reason you are so upset.”

I told him to get off again but with far more colorful language.

“Nadia, you are going nowhere near this mission until you cool off, take a breath, and tell me what the hell is going on with you.” I shut my eyes tightly, clenching my jaw as rage simmered in my belly. “I’m sorry for touching you again without your permission, but you need to calm down. Please, Nadia.” My body felt as though it were vibrating, thrumming as white-hot, liquid fury pulsed through me. I set him with a glare. “Hate me all you want. I can take it, but I’m not letting you go and get yourself killed because you won’t tell me the fucking truth.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me. Fine, get it all out, we’re not going anywhere until you calm down.”

I clenched my jaw tighter, struggling against him again. “You’re a fucking prick you know that.” He only shrugged. “I hate you, Pietro.” Still, he held onto me. I kept going, swearing, insulting, and spewing cruel words at him. He did not flinch in the face of my rage, instead, he faced it head-on, stepped into it with me, and did not break eye contact once. “Do you think this makes you brave? Huh, do you? You think this makes you a hero? You’re not a fucking hero, you’re just a madman’s science experiment.”

“You want me to let go of you so badly, don’t you? We both know you don’t mean a word you’re saying right now, you’d say anything to get me to leave you alone. What is it, do you actually have a death wish?”

“I’ve killed people. You know that don’t you?” He was silent at my question. “People who did nothing to me. What do you think I’ll do to you when you do let me go?”

I felt something warm press to my forehead then. “Nadia. Open your eyes.” What? They were open, I could see him just fine. “Please, just take a breath and open your eyes.” His forehead was pressed to mine and his dark lashes were fluttering against his cheeks, blue eyes hidden from my gaze. That is what I saw when I opened my eyes finally. I realized then that his thumb was stroking the side of my wrist, had been the whole time. Then I was gasping, breathing heavily as if I’d never really tasted air before. There was warm liquid pouring down my cheeks and my heart was racing. Pietro let go of me and laid beside me, no longer touching me as I curled in on myself. I turned away from him clutching my legs as the tears continued.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered finally; my throat raw.

He told me it was okay.

“It’s not… I-I.” I did not know what to say, so I opted for the truth, well some of it. “The last time I was here… I was dying.” He stayed silent; an offer for me to continue. “This was never my home. It is just the only place I remember living before I left the Red Room. I have not been back here since, and the truth, Pietro, is that it fucking terrifies me.”

He let the room go quiet for a long while before he spoke up again. “I know you did not mean what you said, Nadia.”

“I am not going to hurt you, I’m sorry I said that.” I stared at the food strewn across the floor through blurry eyes. “You’re not just a science experiment.” It was gentle, quiet, a breath carried away by the air.

“You’ve killed people… that is what you cannot forgive yourself for, isn’t it? That’s what you meant that day when you said I didn’t know the things you had done.”

“I’ve done worse than that.”

I could feel the warmth of him radiating into my back, the sound of movement of the duvet filled my ears but he did not touch me. “It was not you, Nadia.” Silence came once again then. I closed my eyes, the darkness a welcome relief.

“Wasn’t it?”

…

“Okay. This is the plan.” Pietro clapped his hands together when I returned from the bathroom. Our hotel room was clean, no longer in a state of disarray, it was after my frantic behavior earlier. “You’ll take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

I shook my head. “You take the bed, it's fine.” He placed his hands on his hips, giving me a bemused look.

“I cannot believe this, there must be cameras around to catch this.” He glanced around the room theatrically before continuing. “Nadia Pimenova actually offering to make things easier for me.” I rolled my eyes, walking past the man to open my suitcase and search through it for my pajamas. “Why don’t we take turns? You take the bed tonight; I’ll take it tomorrow night… and maybe on the third night we’ll cuddle.” The look I sent him was glacial. “Compromise, no?”

“I like the part where you have to sleep on the couch. The rest? Not so much.”

A crooked grin broke out across his features as he watched me. When I looked at him the first thing, I noticed was the dimples embedded on his cheeks. I felt my own lips upturn. “What are you looking at?” He teased, his smile growing. It was then that I realized I had been staring. I averted my gaze quickly, yanking the clothes I’d been looking for from my suitcase and turning to go back into the bathroom again. “I wasn’t telling you to stop.” I glanced back at him over my shoulder. “I like it when you look at me.” My face heated up at his words, the heat spreading through my body quickly. I shut the door to the bathroom, leaning back against it and rubbing a hand over my face. What the hell was going on with me?

I barely slept that night, tossing and turning as my mind whirred with thoughts of what we needed to do tomorrow. Being in Moscow wouldn’t affect me because I wouldn’t let it.

The air was crisp and cold with the arrival of autumn. I looked out at the yellowing leaves that had fallen into the Moscow River, drifting upstream. It was too early in the year for snow, but it would be here within the coming months, painting the streets white and piling along this very bridge. I ran my glove-clad hands across the railing, I’d walked across this bridge many times when I was younger, and for a while, it symbolized a quiet serenity. One that was a rarity for me then. “It’s nice. Cold, but nice.” Pietro’s voice pulled me from my reverie, I hummed quietly.

“The Moskva.” I nodded toward the water flowing beneath us. He came to stand beside me, looking out at the boats passing by. “It wasn’t cold in Sokovia?”

“It was, but not like this.”

A quiet laugh passed my lips. We hadn’t spoken about what happened yesterday, I’d woken up hours before him to get ready. Eventually, throwing a pillow at his head to get him up off his ass. We were in Moscow to collect intel on a drug ring that had surfaced here, seemingly looking to dominate the market with the new drug they were selling. Our mission was to locate the Moscow base and report it to the DEA division that had jurisdiction here and to report back to headquarters with samples for testing. Pietro and I would pose as existing investors, Naomi, and James Wharton. Wealthy socialites who had been pouring money into the business for years. The real Wharton’s were in custody back in New York, but as they were silent partners who’d never been seen by the higher-ups at this company, we would be taking their places.

“Are you nervous?” Pietro asked, following closely behind me as I guided him toward the building where we would be meeting with the partners.

“Not really. You?” I glanced back at his to see him shrug slightly.

He inhaled deeply. “Should I be?”

I tilted my head back and forth in thought. “Well, that depends… Are you planning on doing something stupid and getting yourself killed?” He offered me an unamused look in response. “It is good to be nervous, it means you care. But you don’t need to worry.”

“Because you will always protect me?” He asked, frown turning into a cheeky smile.

“Cap would be super irritating if I let you go and die. So, I suppose I will have to make sure you make it back.”

Pietro chuckled heartily in response. “It is okay, Nadia, you can just admit that you’d never let anyone hurt me because you love me wholeheartedly, I won’t judge you.” He walked ahead of me, looking back over his shoulder. “What was it that made you fall so head over heels? Was it my stunning wit or my unbelievable sex appeal?”

“Perhaps it was your incredible humility.” I taunted, overtaking him once more.

He stopped at my side as the building came into view. “Can I touch you?”

I huffed at him.

He grinned slightly in response. “Just to make our cover believable of course.”

I agreed with a roll of my eyes. His body heat radiated onto me through my coat as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, his chest pressed against my side as we walked. I swallowed heavily at the contact, glad that my coat prevented his flesh from touching mine. A shiver raced down my spine at the thought. I wasn’t sure whether it was a reaction of discomfort, or something else entirely.

“If you are uncomfortable, tell me, and I will stop.” His breath was hot on my ear as he spoke. I considered his words, it would be suspicious if we did not touch at all, but was this too much for me? I wondered if the feeling of prickling at my skin came from wanting him to stop touching me or from the nagging thought in the back of my mind that I wanted him to keep doing it. I chose not to respond verbally, instead opting to lean further into his chest as we crossed the threshold of the building. We walked to the front desk, and I told the woman the codeword.

“Mr. Rostokov will meet you when you arrive on level 4.” She responded with a warm smile. He did in fact meet us, the moment the elevator doors opened he was there. A wide smile across his face, it was eerie how toothy his grin was. The way he peered at us with eyes so dark they appeared almost black.

“I’m so glad you could make it. Mr. and Mrs. Wharton” Two men in all black suits were in our space as soon as we stepped into the corridor. “Ivan and Sergei are just going to conduct a quick search before we take you to meet my partner, it is procedure, I’m sure you understand.”

I smiled at him, nodding immediately. “Of course, we’d expect nothing less, Mr. Rostokov.”

“Please!” He waved his hand dismissively. “Mr. Rostokov was my father, call me Anatoly.”

“It’s a pleasure to formally meet you, Anatoly. I’m Naomi, and this is my husband, James.” I linked my arm with Pietro’s after they finished searching us. We hadn’t brought any weapons, not today, this was a preliminary meeting. I had a tiny microphone pinned in my hair, invisible to the naked eye but highly effective for missions like this.

“My wife and I have been looking forward to making this for months,” Pietro added, rubbing my upper arm. He’d adopted the American accent surprisingly easily. I smiled at him as we both turned back to the man before us who was currently scouring my body. He passed a hand over his dark, slicked back hair before returning our smiles and beginning to lead us down the hall passed the glass conference rooms and offices filled with people. When we made it to the end there was a large room that was surrounded by walls rather than clear panes, the interior was completely hidden from the outside. The first door was closed swiftly behind us by Ivan and Sergei who remained outside. We had stepped into a small room, only occupied by two plastic tubs situated atop a table. I glanced toward Anatoly who had stopped before a set of double doors and was now facing us.

“Mr. Vasiliev is very particular when he meets people for the first time.”

We had been briefed about this before leaving the compound, the terms under which the two men operated. He wanted us to strip down to our undergarments and that is the state we would meet Mr. Vasiliev in. They said it was a safety precaution, as the things discussed in his office were delicate matters, confidential. However, I knew what this was about. They had already searched us, and no doubt scanned us the moment we entered the building, they knew we were not wearing wires nor concealing weapons, this was about one thing: power. He wanted us to know how much he had, he wanted us to know that we were subject to his will. I’d known many men like him in my life. When our clothes were neatly folded in the tub and Pietro, and I stood in nothing but our underwear the double doors were opened, and we were ushered into the large office.

“That’s a nasty scar you’ve got there, Naomi.” Mr. Rostokov spoke, running his fingertips over the skin of my shoulder. I swallowed down my disgust at his tone, clenching my fists at my side to keep from pulling away from him, my skin felt scratchy and overwhelmingly clammy then. Pietro moved closer to me, his wrist grazing my own as he switched sides with me. The scratchiness lessened.

I forced a laugh. “Yeah, I’m something of a clutz. I fell off my bike when I was younger, took a nasty tumble.” I lied easily, recalling the way it had felt as the blade of a knife sliced through the delicate flesh. It happened after the Red Room while I was working as an agent for S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Ah, my friends, how wonderful it is to meet you at last.” Mr. Vasiliev stood, rounding his desk to shake our hands.

Anatoly leered at me the entire time we spoke with the two men, making small talk and discussing our travels. I only really started to listen when they began to speak about the farm. This was the suspected location where they manufactured and stored the narcotics. Eventually, the two men excused themselves, offering us both greasy smiles as they turned to each other and began to conduct what I assumed was meant to be a private conversation.

“Можно ли им доверять?” Can they be trusted?

“Они отдали много денег на дело, было бы не в их интересах нападать на нас сейчас.” They’ve given a lot of money to the cause; it wouldn’t be in their best interest to turn on us now.

“Мы отвезем их на ферму завтра вечером” We’ll take them to the farm tomorrow evening. “Если они окажутся ненадежными, мы убьем их до того, как они уедут из Москвы.” If they prove untrustworthy, we kill them before they leave Moscow.

I smiled widely at Anatoly and Mr. Vasiliev as they turned back to us telling us a time and location to meet them at tomorrow.

“Did they buy it?” Pietro asked the moment we were behind the door of our hotel room.

I dropped my coat over the back of a chair. “They don’t not trust us, but we need to really sell it tomorrow.”

“And if we don’t?”

With a shrug, I glanced over at him. “We die.”

“So no pressure…”

Chapter Text

I awoke to the sound of cries and frantic movement. My body moved faster than my mind, pulling the handgun from beneath my pillow and aiming it into the dark room, I surveyed my surroundings for any sign of danger to find nothing but the very same room I’d gone to sleep in. My eyes fell on Pietro, the moonlight streaming in from the window caused the sweat that beaded on his forehead to glimmer. He was tossing and turning, cries falling from his lips every so often. I lowered the gun immediately.

“Pietro?” I spoke softly into the room. He remained fast asleep.

He was speaking in Sokovian, fear potent in his words. I stood from the couch, saying his name again. He did not react but continued to twist and turn. I made it to the side of the bed when he began thrashing and his voice raised significantly. He sounded absolutely petrified. I pulled myself onto the bed, saying his name several time loudly in an attempt to wake him up but my efforts were fruitless. I watched him thrash for another moment, considering my options. It was when I saw the tears pouring from his shut eyes that I made my decision, laying one hand across his shoulder and the other over his upper arm. My flesh pressed directly onto his.

“Pietro. Wake up.” I brought my hand from his arm to his cheek and repeated my words. His eyelids fluttered and began to open, he lurched upward, terror in his bright blue eyes. I moved with him. My hand that was on his shoulder dropped to grasp his own. “It was just a dream, you’re okay, Pietro. I promise.” His gaze danced across my features frantically. Realizing it was just me as he woke up fully.

“Nadia?”

I nodded, not allowing my mind to wander to thoughts of my hands touching him. “It’s just me, everything’s okay, you just had a bad dream.” He swallowed heavily, looking around the room, there were still tears in his eyes and I could feel the tremble in his body. I took a deep breath, shifting slightly more onto the bed. “Listen to the sounds of the cars outside, do you hear it? It’s faint so you have to listen carefully.” He furrowed his eyebrows at me, but seemed to do as I said, glancing toward the window. “Listen to my voice talking to you. See the way the lights from the buildings leak in through the curtains, how they color the room and prevent it from ever being too dark.” Slowly, he began to lay back down again. I watched him trace a line of light across the ceiling.

“I can hear the cars.” He murmured gently.

“Are there a lot of them?”

“I think so.”

I offered him a warm smile, wiping the tears from his cheeks with the hand that had been resting there. “Where are you?”

“Moscow.” Our eyes remained locked as I sat there with him, hand still intertwined with his. I moved to stand and return to the couch, but his grip tightened, tugging me back toward the bed. “Stay with me… Please.” He dropped my hand, averting his gaze from me as he sunk into the bed, he seemed ashamed. I didn’t want him to feel that way. It was peculiar to me to care if he felt embarrassed, but my chest tightened as I watched him and despite myself, I slipped under the duvet and laid beside the silver-haired man. Shock was evident in his eyes as he looked at me. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

I laid down toward the edge of the bed so that there was a large expanse of space between us. When I looked over at him, I saw his hand resting in the center of the bed, slightly more to his side. I smoothed my hand over the sheets, stopping when my fingertips were so close to his hand that I could almost convince myself I felt the phantom of his touch.

“It’s okay,” I murmured. His face was illuminated by the pale light that streamed in from the windows. “Do you have nightmares a lot?” He ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the ceiling.

“Sometimes.” He breathed out. “I used to have them more when I was little, but they stopped for a while before we were taken in by Strucker. I think they were worse after.” His expression was sullen, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth turned downward. I was unused to seeing him so defeated. “When we were being experimented on there were a lot of chemically induced sleeps, for a long time I think there were no dreams at all. I’m not sure which is worse.”

I nodded gently. His words resonated with me more than any I’d ever heard. When I gazed at him then in the dimly lit room, silence bathing us, I was unable to convince myself that he was not devastatingly beautiful. “I don’t know either.”

“You said there was something worse…” I glanced up at him as he spoke. “Earlier, you said you did worse things. What did you mean?”

My eyes closed; my body felt like it was melting under the weight of the memories. I could see it clear as day in my mind. The tears in her eyes, the way she fell to her knees before me begging me for mercy, to let her live, for her family. She had a mother and a father, a man who loved her and she begged me to let her see them again.

“She has betrayed her country, Nadia, she has betrayed all of us.” I could hear his voice in my ear as he circled behind me like a vulture inspecting a corpse. “She is a traitor! This is your chance to prove yourself, show us how strong you’ve become, show us what happens when we live outside our means. Let her be an example. Kill her.”

She wouldn’t stop crying, hands clasped as though she were praying, as though I were some God or Deity that could grant her clemency. We were in the training room, not in our suits or ready for the field, she wasn’t even armed. “Nadia, please I beg of you, don’t do it.” I was 15 and she was 18; brought to the Red Room when she was 10 years old. Natasha was gone and outside of Yelena the girl before me was the only other person I’d ever trusted. I did not know what it was to have a mother, only what I’d heard people on the outside say or what I’d read in books. Yet, despite my limited understanding, she seemed comparable to it. There were girls gathered around us, watching in silence as I aimed the gun at her head. I wondered what they thought, what they saw. For me, everything was red. I’d killed people before, multiple. All I had to do was shoot her in the head, it was simple compared to other missions given to me. However, as she wept and begged for her life, her brown eyes melting into wide blobs filled with fear, my hand faltered. My throat felt tight, and my eyes were stinging. I felt my cheek become wet as a warm liquid streamed down it. I narrowed my eyes at the girl, tightening my grip on the gun and planting my feet. Others had begged for their lives, others had prayed for mercy this was not any different, so why did my body feel so heavy?

I felt Dreykov move one of my plaited piggy tails over my shoulder, pressing his finger to the bottom of my wrist, lifting the gun to aim at her head once more. “This is what you were born for, my Nadia, this is your purpose. To eliminate those who threaten the correct order of things. So, eliminate her.”

And I did.

Her cries were silenced by the loud pop. I did not flinch, only watched her body crumple to the floor lifelessly, blood pooling around her dark curls.

“Her name was Oksana. She was my friend.” I told Pietro. He’d been silent throughout my recount, continuing to stare up at the ceiling as I bared myself to him. Trembling, cold, monstrous as I was. “She had defected to the Americans and was giving them intel on the Red Room. She was trying to save us.”

“Did you know that, when you killed her?”

I realized then that the edge of the silky, white pillowcase had been grasped tightly in my hand the whole time I’d been speaking. “I knew she had defected, but not why. It doesn’t really matter though. Even if I knew, I still would have killed her. Because he told me to, and all I knew was to obey.”

“Exactly.” He turned to face me then, propping his head up on his arm. “It was all you knew. They forced you to do it. That is now who you are, and it is not your purpose.”

“Do not defend me, Pietro. I do not deserve it.”

He shook his head at me, sitting upright suddenly. “If that is who you are why did you defect? Why did you become an Avenger? Why do you torture yourself for it even now, all these years later?”

“I do not torture myself.” I retorted with a sigh.

He chuckled, his head falling backward exposing his throat. When he gazed lazily at me a smile spread across his lips. “Are you incapable of not arguing with me?”

His eyes sparkled in the pale moonlight. I attempted to fight the smile that threatened to spread across my lips, but my efforts were futile. “Only because you’re so annoying.”

“Is that what I do to you?” I raised an eyebrow at his tone. “Annoy you?”

I hummed. “Obviously.” His body heat radiated onto me. It occurred to me then just how close we were. In that moment we were practically breathing the same air. “Pietro…”

“Nadia…”

His eyes dipped dangerously, gazing over my lips. Before I even knew what I was doing my own eyes trailed over his stubbled cheek, landing on his plump lips. My eyes fluttered slightly, and I swallowed heavily. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He murmured.

Like the thought of looking at anything else ever again was so immensely devastating he almost couldn’t bear it. What I couldn’t bear, was the fact that even when he was this close to me, bathing me in his heat and the smell of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him, I wanted him closer. This was not right, did not make sense to me.

I blinked, breaking the trance forcefully. “We have a big day tomorrow; we should get some sleep.”

He was silent for a long moment before he nodded gently, settling back into the cushions. “Goodnight.” He murmured.

“Goodnight.” I turned away from him, laying on my side facing the window at the very edge of the bed.

The sunlight streamed into the room, painting intricate patterns of warmth on my skin. I stretched my muscles, eyes still closed. My hand danced across the surface it rested on, smooth, warm… flesh. I popped an eye open to see my hand laid over Pietro’s bare chest, his steady heartbeat thumping beneath it. My own heart rate spiked at the position, I pulled my hand back quickly, curling up into myself. “You can touch me you know?” His voice was deeper than normal, husky with sleep. I held my breath, waiting for him to continue. His eyes opened, dancing across my features. “If you want to. You can.”

His hand smoothed over the sheets between us, slowly drawing closer to me. I watched its path, seeing it stop before it actually reached me. My own hand twitched; I wondered if his hand was warm. It was when I held it last night. My fingers inched toward his for a moment, he watched every movement carefully. Just before my hand reached his I lurched out of the bed, turning my back to his and quickly beginning to dig through my suitcase.

“We need to get up, we’re going to the factory today and we need to go over our cover before we meet Vasiliev and Rostokov.”

He sighed deeply, running a hand over his face before watching me dash into the bathroom to change.

…

“We’re high school sweethearts,” Pietro spoke in his superb American accent. I nodded along, gazing at him with a moony-eyed expression. “Although Naomi had a massive crush on me before we got together.” Our eyes met and I hoped he could read the warning in mine. “Yeah, she just wouldn’t admit it to herself, so stubborn, but just as pretty.” He tapped my nose. I was sure he read me loud and clear now; later Pietro, later, you will regret that.

Rostokov and Vasiliev stood in front of us in the elevator. The former sent me a disquieting smile over his shoulder. They had finally brought us to the farm, though, it was really more a factory. A stone’s throw out of Moscow, fronting as a pharmaceutical manufacturer. The inside was sleek and mostly metallic, concrete floors that seems as though they’d been scrubbed clean recently.

We passed a series of rooms as Rostokov and Vasiliev lead us further into the compound. Many had windows tinted so dark it was practically impossible to see what went on inside, I shivered at the possibility. A door opened to my left catching my attention as a man in a black coat exited what appeared to be a laboratory.

I hummed in response. “Well, how could I not have a crush on this guy?” His grin doubled in size as he watched me, blue eyes sparkling with mirth. I refused to get lost in them as I wrapped my arm around him, pinching him sharply. He flinched when both men before us were turned away. His sharp glare melted into an adoring look when we entered a new room. It was an office, similar in style to the rest of the building, adorned in black, white, and silver. The sound of a phone buzzing loudly filled the room just as Vasiliev gestured for Pietro and I’d to take a seat. He glanced down at his phone before pressing it to his chest and giving me a sheepish look.

“It’s my business partner.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Well, I’m sure you can call him back later.”

He shook his head at me. “I’m sorry, you know how they are.”

I huffed in feigned dismay. “Really, James, can’t it wait?” Pietro shook his head again, his expression turning solemn. Both Vasiliev and Rostokov watched carefully from the sidelines. I lowered my voice as I spoke again, acting as though I was intending this to be a private moment. “We spoke about this; you said you were going to be ignoring work calls this weekend.”

“Naomi, really it’s just a call, I won’t be long.”

“It’s not the amount of time, James it’s the principle!” I whisper-shouted, hands on my hips. Pietro’s eyes roved over me for a moment. “This is important.”

He sighed exasperatedly. “I understand that honey and just as soon as this call is over, you’ll have my undivided attention again. I’m sure you can handle being on your own for a little while.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to my cheek. My heart rate picked up, no matter how much I cursed the damned muscle, deeming it traitorous and completely overdramatic. “One call and I’ll be back, be careful.” He whispered softly in my ear, to onlookers it would just look like a husband attempting to appease his wife, given that his words were too quiet for anyone but me to hear. “I apologize, gentlemen but I have to take this call, I’m just going to step outside, and I’ll be back the very moment it’s dealt with.”

It was all for show, Naomi and James Wharton were not a particularly happy couple, they were showy and liked to present a perfect image to the public. However, in reality, James is a workaholic who enjoys the company of any woman who isn’t his wife and Naomi is the puppeteer running the show. The one behind the business decisions and the one who crafts their public personas. Pietro was not taking a business call; he was going to send the location to the compound so they could forward it to authorities. I’d distract Rostokov and Vasiliev until he came back and then we would incapacitate them and steal a sample of the illicit substance for testing; simple.

“Well shall we begin, and you can catch James up when he returns?” Vasiliev asked, gesturing for me to sit in one of the armchairs in front of the large glass desk.

I nodded gratefully, taking a seat and facing him. Anatoly stood at his side, watching me intently. Tony and Nick Fury had briefed us on the business negotiations before we’d left New York. I’d even had a few days to study the real Naomi Wharton whilst she was in custody. The role was not particularly challenging, nor was the objective of the mission. However, as I sat there in that office, Vasiliev speaking about distribution and further sponsorship I felt as though I were missing something. A crucial piece of the puzzle that had yet to reveal itself to me. I listened carefully and avoided the gaze of the man beside him. When the man in the black coat from earlier entered the office and spoke in a hushed tone to Vasiliev from earlier that feeling of unease grew tenfold.

“My sincerest apologies for the interruption Mrs. Wharton, this shall only take a short while. With any luck by the time I return, Mr. Wharton will also be back, and we can move forward.” I smiled amenably and told him not to worry as he stepped out. Only Rostokov and I remained in the room and the moment I turned around he was before me, prowling like a predator stalking prey. Without betraying the discomfort that rattled through me I offered him a polite smile. The tall man took a seat in the chair beside mine, watching me but not uttering a single word. I stared back at him, studying, assessing, and waiting for his first move. He did not frighten me, but there was something deeply unsettling about him.

“I greatly admire you, Naomi.” His knee grazed my thigh as he spoke. “You strike me as someone with a business mindset. In my opinion, business should come above all else.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

He hummed, leering at my, the look had my skin crawling. “You see, in business partners, Mr. Vasiliev and I are looking for people who go the extra mile.” His hand was on my knee now and my body was tensed so completely that it almost hurt. Bile rose in my throat as the feeling of his sticky fingers pressing into the flesh around my joint. “People who would do anything for the business.” His hand rose on my leg, I tried not to glare at it. When he rose to his feet and his hand left me, I barely had time to feel relief before it was on me again. My shoulders this time, both his hands. Rage simmered low in my belly at his gall, for a moment I was in the Red Room again, Dreykov’s hands on me as he lifted my hand to aim the gun at Oksana’s head, his breath on my ear. I wanted to hurt him, more than anything I wanted to watch his face shrivel as the agony overtook them. Rostokov and Dreykov both. My fist clenched so tightly at my side I’d be surprised if I hadn’t drawn blood. With a shaky exhale I anchored myself, my anger. If I blew my cover the factory would go into lockdown. I didn’t know where Pietro was, but I knew he was still here, I wouldn’t risk him getting stuck here or shot because I could not control my temper. I closed my eyes momentarily, ignoring his hand sweeping around my collarbone. “Is that you, Naomi? Are you willing to go the extra mile?” When his fingers undid the button on my blouse and attempted to delve beneath, I lost the battle with my temper and snapped. Though, before I had the chance to get my hands on him, his touch was gone. I turned to see a familiar silver-haired man slamming Rostokov against the wall, before dragging him out to the ledge and dangling him over it.

“Don’t ever lay a fucking hand on her again.” The American accent was long gone and by the look in Rostokov’s eyes, our cover was more than blown. I muttered a curse under my breath as I looked around, within seconds a gun was cocking and Vasiliev appeared, aiming it at my head.

“If you’d be so kind as to put my business partner down.” He spoke glancing at Pietro momentarily. Rostokov was grasping at his arms frantically. “Who the fuck are you people?!”

I raised my hands in mock surrender. “We’re the Wharton’s silly.” I taunted, not bothering to continue the accent, our cover evidently blown already.

“Are you a spy?” Vasiliev asked, stepping closer to me.

“More of a freelancer these days.” I shrugged.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Tell your boyfriend to put my partner down or I’m going to put a bullet between your pretty eyes.” Pietro faltered at that, glancing back momentarily,

“No,” I spoke, nonchalant, keeping my eyes on Rostokov. “Don’t worry, he’s not going to shoot me, because he needs to know who we’ve told anyone about his little business endeavor and whether he has time to close shop before they arrive… and my ‘boyfriend’ is not going to say a word if there’s a bullet between my pretty eyes.”

I could see Vasiliev’s jaw clenching at that. “You little bitch, who have you told?” He took another step toward me, taking the safety off.

“Today?”

He sneered at me. “I am not fucking around! Did you tell someone about the farm?” I smiled at him, and he cocked the gun. “Stop wasting time and answer the fucking question!”

“Oh, I’m not wasting time, I’m just stalling so I can come up with a plan.” Before he could pull the trigger, I was on him, grabbing his wrist and pushing it upward causing him to fire straight into the air. Disarming him was my easiest task yet, and he was unconscious with a broken arm in likely dislocated shoulder in a matter of moments. I heard a commotion behind me and when I turned around Pietro was dragging an unconscious Rostokov by his feet. “Tie him up and find us a way out, I’ll get the sample,” I spoke quickly.

Pietro nodded. “Oh, and by the way, that whole thing was very cool.” A loud siren began to emit through the speakers in the factory. The sound of boots bounding toward the main room had me gritting my teeth and giving Pietro a firm look before turning toward the stairs, taking them two at a time. We needed to get the hell out of here, but I wasn’t leaving without that sample. I moved toward the lab quickly, silent on my feet as I avoided the sounds of voices.

There were two guards checking the corridor when I glanced around the corner. I pressed myself flat to the wall, listening as their footsteps grew closer. When they were about to enter my path I lunged, ducking quickly under the first one’s arm and hitting his arm, causing him to accidentally shoot the second guard. When one was down, I swept the first man’s feet from beneath him, slamming the base of his weapon into his head to render him unconscious. The lab was empty when I entered, crossing the space in a moment to secure the case. I did not need to turn to be aware that I was no longer alone in the room.

“Oh, for the love of God, will you just fuck off?” I swiveled to see Rostokov sneering at me from the doorway, blood trickling from his nose.

“You’re friend hits like a little bitch.” I raised an eyebrow at his words, assessing the severe damage on the man’s face, I liked to think I taught him that. Anatoly pulled a gun from beneath his jacket, aiming it at me.

I sighed exasperatedly. “What is it with the guns from a distance huh? What? Worried you can’t take a girl without a weapon?”

“I know you.” He spoke, the corners of his lips turning upwards, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Did you know that?”

“Is this a riddle or something?”

 He smiled at me. “You don’t remember me do you little bird?” I narrowed my eyes at him, confusion spreading through me as my wind whirred attempting to place his face. “Well, I suppose I cannot blame you; I looked a little different back then. So did you, but I’d know you anywhere.”

“This is getting awfully boring, are you going to tell me why you seem to believe we’re acquainted.” I didn’t let my voice betray how shaken I was by his words.

He laughed, it was loud and jarring, sharp teeth showing as his mouth opened. “Always so much bite for such a small thing.” It was then, right then when he spoke those words that I remembered him. Not his face, but his voice, his laugh, those words. The loud booming laugh was one of the sounds that haunted my dreams every night.

So much bite, for such a small thing.

I was 5 years old the first time they did it, they did it again a month later. I stood in a small dingy room, with blank slate-colored walls, a bed in the corner that matched. A man stood before me with a revolver pointed at my head, I cried, and I begged him to stop, to let me go. I begged him not to kill me, but none of my tearful pleas seemed to so much as move him. It was as though he couldn’t hear me, and then he pulled the trigger. I will never forget that loud click that bounced off the walls, an empty barrel, I was alive. I watched him put the bullet in every time, he’d take out the set, showing me the special one that he called his favorite, he’d put it into the magazine and point the gun at my head. He pulled the trigger again and again, month after month until I stopped flinching. Then, and only then, did it stop. I had not realized until I was well into my teenage years that he knew the bullet was never in the barrel, it was psychological torture to break us. To make us soldiers and nothing but.

“Obolensky.” I muttered.

Chapter Text

His smirk grew. “That’s General Obolensky, to you girl.”

It was my turn to sneer. “Your face is different.”

“Yes, well you made quite a mess of my old one.” He growled.

My face lit up at his words, a wicked grin spreading across my lips. “I’d have thought that would have taught you to keep your wandering hands in check.”

“You are lucky you were Dreykov’s favorite, or I would have broken every bone in your fucking body and seen if you found me so funny then.”

I laughed at him, it was theatrical and over the top, he’d always been an easy target to rile. “It must have been hard for you; I mean I imagine it was embarrassing. To be beaten to a pulp by a 15-year-old girl and then fired before you’d even had the chance to get stitched up.”

His smile faltered, though soon his teeth were borne in a beastly look that made my skin crawl. “Do you want to know why I did not kill you the moment I recognized you?” He turned, closing the door and locking it behind him before he prowled closer. “It is because I wanted to decide on the best way, the death you deserve. For you, it could not be quick, not after all the time I spent imagining it. It could not be simple or thoughtless, no… it needed to be special. Just like you, Nadia.” I scrunched my nose in disgust.

“You’ve spent all these years thinking about how to make me pay for what I did to you? How truly pathetic.”

I still remembered the way it felt to be covered in his blood. That day was so deeply ingrained within me that I didn’t think I’d ever be free of it.

General Obolensky was a man who was often deemed handsome. He was tall, with jet-black hair and dark eyes and women had often fawned over him.  He was one of the high-ranking officers in the Red Room, a decorated war veteran who’d decided to lend his specific skillset the program. The KGB’s specialist of psychological warfare. He was employed, not only to destroy our minds but to teach us the art of manipulation.

“How could I not? You were the most sublime creature I’d ever laid eyes on. The best soldier, the most talented at my own craft, the only one who truly rivalled me.” My stomach churned at the look in his eyes. “You are just as beautiful as I remember, but you still lack the ability to see the bigger picture.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You could have been great. You were great, for a while, but you threw it all away. For what? To become a slave to the American government?”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“But I do, Nadia. We are two sides of the same coin.”

The words had me tensing, it was not the first time that he’d said them to me. The last time his hands had been all over me. He was in charge. That’s what he’d said, then he told me to take my underwear off. He’d made me strip before him whilst the matron was away on business, though he insisted he see me individually from the other girls, special attention for the star pupil. I had not replied when he told me to take off my undergarments, though I also had not complied. The Red Room was all I knew, we listened, and we obeyed, that was the only option. However, my mind screamed at me not to listen to him this time. My hands had trembled as he reached out to me, discontent evident in his expression at my disobedience. I don’t remember the other things he said to me, I was so afraid, more than when he’d pressed the cool metal of the gun to my forehead the very first time. Your body belongs to your country, I’d reminded myself, or maybe he’d reminded me. It was not so clear anymore.

This is how you become a patriot.

My hands were clenched into fists at my side as his slender fingers dragged over my stomach, edging upwards. His hand grazed my breast, and I repeated the words in my head. My body belongs to my country, to my government, I am a patriot. His hand danced across the hem of my underwear, dragging further down and something deep within me snapped.

I don’t even remember throwing the first punch. It was a flurry of fury and red and pain. My knuckles bled by the time I was pulled from Obolensky's limp body and when feeling returned to me, my own body ached. They fired him because it was embarrassing for a general to appear so weak.

 “I am nothing like you.”

He merely smiled at my words. “Speaking of the big picture, you really haven’t put it together yet have you?” His words had the hairs on my arms standing up. “You really thought it would be so easy?” I surveyed the room quickly, searching for possible traps. “Oh, don’t worry it’s just us in here, I saw to that. The trap was never for you, I wanted you to myself and your little friend was fucking my plans up quite monumentally. At first, it was merely irritating, but then I saw it for what it was, a blessing in disguise.”

A sudden jolt ran through me, electric and painful. Like being tased but significantly worse. I knew the sensation well; it was a widow’s bite. I doubled over as my body crumpled with agony. He was on me in an instant, grabbing my arms and restraining me as the pain subsided. In the corner a screen flickered to life, displaying what appeared to be security camera footage of a corridor in the factory. Then suddenly, silver hair filled the frame. I thrashed against Obolensky’s grip. “No.” I watched as several of his men filed into the frame, surrounding Pietro. “Stop, you’re fight is with me, not him!”

“Ah, but don’t you see, Nadia. This is phase one of the death you deserve. First, you get to watch him die.” His grip tightened and he revealed to me a pair of silver handcuffs. My body was still trembling vaguely from the Widow’s bite, rendering my arms weak. “You know I was not sure he was worth it in the beginning, did not anticipate you caring much for the welfare of another agent, though, I’d hoped I was wrong. I began to suspect the first day I met the two of you as Rostokov, the way he’d shielded you from me so easily. He is just too obvious; I knew I could make him snap. Just think of all the uninterrupted time we’ll have together when he’s in the ground. I think after a few more electroshocks you’ll be putty in my hands.”

I summoned what strength I could, removing myself from his hold and moving swiftly behind him. “I have the strangest sense of déjà vu right now, how about you?” Cries of agony filled the room as I jammed one of the electroshock capsules into his mouth, covering it with my hand. He thrashed against me, but the widow’s bite made it hard for him to remain on his feet. I wrapped my leg around his before yanking it out, sending him tumbling to the ground. He spat out the little capsule, his body shaking violently from the pain. His gun lay a few feet from him on the ground, tempting him evidently, I pressed the toe of my heels into his knuckles. He groaned painfully, attempting to pull his fingers from beneath my shoe. I grabbed the gun, placing it on the bench beside me. Before he’d even fully recovered from the shock I removed the heels from my feet, throwing them to the ground before placing one foot over the blade of his shoulder and lifting his arm behind him. “Where do you keep the drug samples during lockdowns?” He panted with the aftershocks but did not offer me any response. “Along with all your other shortcomings are you also hard of hearing?”

“Do you really think I’d tell you anything?”

I tightened my grip on his wrist, pressing my foot harder against his back. “Yes. I do. Because if you don’t, I’m going to shatter the bones in your fucking arm.”

“Fuck you, Nadia!” He spat. “You deserved worse than you got you stupid little bitch-”

Before he could continue his little rant, I stomped on his elbow, shattering the bones within it. “That’s not the right answer, unfortunately.” He looked ghostly white, I wondered how long it would take for the pain to render him unconscious. The body can only take so much, that’s what he’d said to me once. I cuffed his other arm to a lab table. When I turned back to the screen, I saw Pietro still stuck in the corridor, fighting as best he could, though he was severely outmanned. “As much as I have enjoyed this little reunion, I am in a little bit of a time crunch so we will have to put a pin in this conversation.”  Turning on my heel, I run toward the exit, not so much as sparing him a second glance. My body moved quickly and silently down the hall as I ran toward the corridor Pietro was trapped in.

A blue and silver streak caught my eye, he was running between the men who’d surrounded him. The clanking of metal hitting the ground echoed off the walls. I realized then that he was disarming them. I approached one of the men from behind, knocking the gun out of his hand and tripping him backward. I knocked him unconscious quickly before moving on to the next. The sharp slice of a knife through my forearm caused me to halt momentarily, one of the two men I was fighting standing defensively with a blade coated in crimson. Pietro stopped, watching the interaction and losing his focus as a result. Within seconds someone had attacked him from behind, slamming the barrel of a gun into his back. I disarmed both men before me, knocking them unconscious with ease. Before the man could bring the gun down on him again, I caught his arm, kicking him hard in the side of the leg causing it to buckle, I twisted the gun until he dropped it and then I slammed it into his head, rendering him unconscious in moments. 

I grabbed Pietro’s arms, helping him to his feet. “Are you okay?” He groaned, leaning on me as he stood. “It was a trap, this whole fucking thing, they knew we weren’t the Wharton’s the moment we got here.”

“Yeah, I kind of got that impression.” He was panting, attempting to catch his breath. “Are you hurt?” He asked, rolling his head toward me to survey my face. 

“I’m fine, let’s just get the fuck out of here.”

The smell of smoke filled my nose just as the siren stopped. A red light began to flash through the building. I saw flames begin to lick at the walls, paperwork, curtains, and God knows what else beginning to blaze. “What the hell is that?”

“They’re burning the evidence.” The cool air blew through my hair as we pushed through the front doors. I moved quickly to the cover of the parked car that we’d used to get to the factory. “Stay here, I’ll be back with the samples.”

Pietro’s eyes widened; disbelief evident on his features as he turned to face me. “What?! Nadia, no, you cannot go back in there.”

“The missions not complete.”

“Fuck the mission! You’re going to get yourself killed.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “I will be fine; I’m not leaving without the samples.”

“Fine. I’m coming with you then.” He stepped toward me, resolve strong in his crystal blue eyes.

The fire was getting more out of control the longer we stood arguing about it. I did not want to be cruel, for some very strange reason the thought made me feel unwell. Irrespective of my bizarre feelings toward him in that moment I steeled myself, setting him with a glare. “I don’t need you’re fucking help, Pietro. You’ll just get in my way. Stay here.”  

That was the last thing I said before running back into the burning building. The red lights were still there, gleaming off of my skin each time it flashed on. There was no sign of anyone else in the corridors, all areas were completely empty of life and the samples. I rifled through room after room, grabbing a lab coat and pressing it over my mouth as the smoke rose. I cursed as another room proved empty. I returned to the lab I’d left Obolensky in, grabbing him by the collar and slamming his head into the lab bench. He laughed. “I’m glad you’re back, I have been dying to know, which ballet is your favorite?”

“Where are the fucking samples?” I ignored his odd question.

“What does it matter? The drug has already been distributed.”

I twisted his broken arm, ignoring his cries of agony. “Distributed where?”

“Who knows… Now tell me which your favorite was.”

“I do not have time for your games, Obolensky! Tell me where the samples are now.”

He laughed again. “Answer the question and I will tell you.” He wasn’t making any sense, my favorite ballet. I’d never watched the ballet before.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. How can I answer a question that makes no fucking sense?”

“You do not remember? Well, I suppose you were quite small then. How sad… it must be so hard for you to have a history that for you, does not exist.” I shoved him, allowing him to drop back to the floor. “There is only one sample left, it is in the second drawer.” He gestured with his head toward the set of draws attached to the bench.

I asked him where the rest were.

“Nadia, I already told you, they’ve been distributed.” With gritted teeth, I repeated my question. “I don’t know where, I only know who to.”

“Tell me, or I will leave you here to die like you deserve.”

He watched me, pearly white teeth bared in one of his disquieting smiles. “I think it was Giselle, that was the one that elicited the most unconscious response from you.” I narrowed my eyes at him, yanking the samples from the drawer and tucking them under my arm.

“What are the other samples for, Obolensky?”

His smile widened. “The next batch of girls.”

Before I even had time to comprehend his words a blue and silver streak slashed past me, a pair of warm arms wrapping around me and dragging me away from the lab. The brisk Moscow air was filling my lungs in an instant. A moment later Obolensky was being shoved in the awaiting hands of two uniformed men who I assumed were whatever authorities HQ had contacted.

I ran a hand through my hair as Pietro and I walked away from the building that was crumbling to the ground as the flames engulfed it. My head pounded and my body ached. It was a good thing he’d come when he had, I wasn’t convinced it would’ve been an easy task to get out of the factory if I’d waited any longer. I could practically feel the anger radiating from Pietro in waves as he walked head down, a few paces ahead of me. I attempted to ignore him, taking in large inhalations of the fresh air. He huffed, clenching his fists at his side and shaking his head. 

“Oh, for the love of God, just spit it out!”

He stopped so quickly I almost ran directly into him, in a second, he was staring me down, narrowed eyes, face flushed with what I presumed was frustration. “Do you have a death wish?!” I raised a questioning eyebrow at his words and tone. “Jesus, Nadia, do you realize how dangerous and stupid that was?!”

I asked him what he was talking about.

“You are reckless! So fucking reckless.” He almost shouted at me. “Why is that?”

His audacity floored me. “Are you serious?” I questioned, hands on my hips as I watched him with a glacial look. “You want to talk about reckless? You invented the fucking term, idiot!” His eyes narrowed further. “You threw yourself in front of Clint in Sokovia as if you’d be able to walk off the shower of bullets headed your way!”

“You threw yourself in front of me too!”

“I did, but the difference is that I had a fucking plan you didn’t!”

He groaned loudly. “Oh, so you had a plan the very moment you took off running?” His eyes were darker than normal, stormy and his voice came across wrecked, likely from exhaustion. “Because it did not look that way to me, Nadia.”

I swallowed, shaking my head. “That’s not the point. You do stupid shit constantly!” He opened his mouth to protest but I continued before he had the chance. “Even in training. Do you want to know why you can’t beat me without using your enhancements? You fight not to lose; I fight to win. And I do. What you do is get in my fucking way and screw up my best-laid plans!”

He laughed humorlessly, running a hand through his hair sending silver strands sticking in all directions. “Jesus Christ. What is your problem, Nadia? Seriously…” His blue eyes met mine once more. “Will you just stop with this hot and cold act already? One minute you’re my friend and you’re reassuring me that I’m not a bad person, the next I’m the bane of your existence, and you can’t stand the sight of me. I am getting really fucking sick of it.”

“Oh, I’m not hot and cold, I feel very strongly about you, and I can assure you they’re not friendly feelings.”

“Really?” I hummed at him. He stepped toward me; I didn’t move. “So that’s why you woke me up from a nightmare, went out of your way to calm me down, and then stayed with me all night? That’s why you saved my life today, why you took a bullet for me in Sokovia?”

I scoffed at him. “Oh, don’t feel so special, it was not the first bullet I’ve ever taken.”

That was when he snapped, finally. Though, his words shocked me. “You could have died! Do you know that? When you collapsed in that Heli-carrier you were so pale you looked like you were already dead. You act like it’s no big deal, like everyone was making a big fuss out of nothing but you didn’t see how scared I- all of your friends were. How close of a call it was.” He watched me carefully, taking another step toward me. “I don’t feel special, I feel confused. If you really hate me so much why’d you take that bullet for me? Why’d you risk your life to help someone who, barely 24 hours before was the enemy?” He was standing so close to me I could feel the heat radiating off of him, his blue eyes had me trapped, they seemed utterly inescapable to me in that moment. I swallowed heavily as he took another small step forward. I was sure our chests would graze if I exhaled too deeply, yet I did not give an inch under his gaze, tilting my head up to stare him down.

“Because you didn’t deserve to die.” My words were as cold as I could force them to be, however, I knew he saw through the cracks. He somehow seemed able to read between my lines. “Though now I’m beginning to rethink my decision.”

He scoffed at me. “I’m not going to hate you, you know that?” I raised an eyebrow at his words. “That is your goal, right? That’s your move, act cold to make people hate you so they never get too close.” His accusatory tone silenced me. “Well, I see through it, and it’s not going to work on me, Nadia, so you needn’t bother.”

“Is that right?” He nodded, humming in response. His eyes were even more breathtaking up close, blue so bright it was almost overwhelming, it made me even angrier. “You know what I think, Pietro?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “I think you’re full of shit.”

“I’m full of shit, Nadia?” I hated the way he said my name, or maybe it was the feeling that sparked to life within me at the way it sounded from his lips. I nodded at him defiantly. “Look me in the eyes right now and tell me you don’t feel anything for me.”

My heart jumped at his tone, my throat felt tight suddenly. Why was my body reacting like this? His hair was messy, a few strands hanging in front of his eyes. I’d never felt like this before. “I don’t feel anything for you.” The muscle in his jaw feathered. “When I look at you there is nothing… well, other than irritation.” I fought to keep my voice cold and flat.

“You’re a fucking liar, Nadia.” Why did he have to keep saying it?

He moved so close to me that, for just a moment, the thought occurred to me that he might kiss me. I blinked hard, my eyes fluttering much to my dismay. I told myself that I was flustered because I did not want him to. “I feel nothing for you, Pietro.”

“Well, you hate me, don’t you? So, you feel something.”

My palms were clammy, and I could feel my heart thrumming against my chest. I swallowed heavily, shaking my head in an attempt to clear it. “You would have jumped in front of Barton and that little boy without even thinking, without even hesitating to protect them.”

“But you hate me?” He repeated.

“We were your enemy less than 24 hours before and you still wanted to save Clint.” 

His gaze softened, voice following suit. “…Do you hate me, Nadia?”

“No! I don’t fucking hate you, Pietro. You’re an annoying prick but… but I don’t hate you” There was silence between us then. The look he was giving me was hard to describe, not one I was familiar with, a look that was new and it terrified me. “And I don’t regret taking that bullet. I am aware that I could have died, no one will let me forget it, but I don’t regret it and I’d do it again.” I hadn’t really meant to say that out loud, it was the first time I’d never even allowed myself to believe it until now.

A smile curved across his lips, drawing my eyes to them. “Well, now maybe I feel a little special. You’d take another bullet for me, and you don’t hate me… even when I kick with my foot instead of my shin.”

Despite myself, and despite how much I did not want to; I laughed. It was soft and airy and real.  

Pietro’s eyes didn’t stray from me even once, his smile brightening. “I like it when you laugh.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Even better when I make you laugh.” My smile faltered slightly, and the air was tense between us again. His eyes narrowed in on my cheek, hand rising instantly. “You’re bleeding.” He halted a few inches from my face, blinking and stopping himself from breaching the invisible wall between us. I glanced at his hand before my eyes trailed back to his. His hand hovered there in mid air by my cheek for a long moment as our eyes remained connected. Even when we’d breached that barrier many times by now, he wouldn’t push my boundaries if he didn’t have to. I swallowed heavily again; my body felt separate from my brain in that moment. He began to lower his hand back to his side, but I caught it before he could. I closed my eyes for just a second, clenching my jaw and focusing on what I knew. It was Pietro. Pietro who had saved my life more than once, Pietro who’d nearly worn a hole through the floor in the med bay after we’d returned from Sokovia, Pietro who refused to give up his rather irritating mission to know me. Slowly, I brought his hand back toward me, lifting it to press against my cheek. His lips parted gently as he watched me. When his warm, calloused flesh touched me, not for the first time, something shifted. We were in Moscow, still, but it was different now.

“Nadia!” It was only when I was pulling back from him abruptly that I realized my nose had almost been grazing Pietro’s. Red hair filled my line of sight when I turned. Natasha had slightly furrowed eyebrows, but concern was evident on her face as I approached her.

“What are you doing here?”

She stepped toward me quickly. “Can I please hug you?” I nodded after a moment, riddled with confusion at her sudden appearance and evident nervousness. She pulled me into her arms without another moment’s hesitation. “Jesus Christ, I’m so glad you’re alright!”

“Nat, I’m fine. What’s going on.”

“I was looking over some of the recon from the past couple of months, there was just something off about this whole thing. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it straight away. He looked so different, I couldn’t figure it out, but then I heard him talking through your comms.”

Realization dawned on me then. She’d been older in the Red Room; she would have recognized Obolensky’s voice the second she heard it. I nodded at her. “He recognized me straight away.”

“Nadia, I’m so sorry. I should have figured it out sooner, I should have done this mission myself.”

I shook my head then. “You didn’t know, it’s not your fault. It’s not like he did anything anyway, he was so obsessed with his fantastic plan for vengeance that he forgot how easily I’d kicked his ass the first time.”

She laughed at that. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of Moscow.” I nodded eagerly.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

…

“By the way, what the hell were you and Maximoff doing when I got to the factory?”

I closed my eyes, tensing in my seat at Natasha’s words. “Nothing, we just had a disagreement.”

“Right, of course. It’s just… well, do you often stick your tongue down someone’s throat during disagreements?”

“That is a vile and outrageous insinuation!” I instantly protested, giving her a look of utter indignation.

She raised her eyebrows at me. “The two of you have had a damn lot of disagreements since he came along, that’s got to be a lot of making out.”

“There was no making out!” She gave me an accusing look. “Nor has there ever been.” I clarified. “We were disagreeing because he is a complete and utter fucking idiot… I had a cut on my cheek, and he was just checking to make sure it wasn’t infected or perhaps he was hexing me, either way there was nothing else going on.”

“If you say so.”

The little smirk on her face had my blood boiling. “Absolutely not, this is not a conversation that I am facilitating, nothing was going on he drives me insane; I would rather stick my tongue into an electrical outlet than have it anywhere near his!” With that I turned and moved to a different section of the jet. Her laughter echoed down the aisle, following me even when I could not see her. “Shut up!” I yelled, plopping down into a seat and drawing my knees up to my chest.

Chapter Text

“You and Speedy did well in Moscow.” Tony’s voice filled my ears the moment I entered the kitchen, he was engrossed in something on his tablet, only glancing up momentarily.

I shrugged. “I always do well.” Pietro’s snort filled the room as he sat beside Steve at the island. I narrowed my eyes at him. He offered me a cheeky smirk and stretched his arms above his head, cracking his joints as he did so. The muscles in his biceps rippled as he moved, his shirt tightening across the expanse of his back. I gulped down the green juice that was in my hand, averting my gaze the second his head turned in my direction.

“Good morning, friends,” Nat spoke beelining for the fridge and offering me a little smirk as she went. I rolled my eyes at her. She’d been giving me those looks anytime Pietro, and I were in a room together since we arrived back at the compound a week ago. I was choosing to face what had occurred, or almost occurred, in Moscow the way I faced anything that made me uncomfortable… by completely avoiding and ignoring it. Unfortunately for me, Natasha wasn’t the only constant reminder that followed me around, there was this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that refused to go away, combined with a brain fog that stuck to my side like Pietro Maximoff.

“I’m thinking the theme should be 60s.” Tony suddenly said, still looking down at his tablet.

Nat gasped and clapped her hands together. “God, I love a themed party.”

“Is that when you were born?” I asked Tony teasingly.

“Excuse you?”

I shrugged, finishing my juice in a large gulp. “Well, it is your birthday party.”

“First of all, I was born in the 70s smart ass how old do you think I am? Second, I am touched that you actually remembered my birthday.”

“I was born in 1920!” Steve spoke glancing at the dark-haired man with raised eyebrows.

My laughter chorused with someone else’s and the moment I noticed it was Pietro’s I abruptly stopped, forcing the smile to drop from my face.

Natasha giggled to herself as Pietro shot me a disbelieving look. “Come on, Nads, I need your help finding an outfit for the party.” She wandered out of the room, gesturing me to follow. I fought to ignore the gaze that burnt into my back as I walked out behind her.

…

I dragged my hand over the array of brightly colored fabrics hanging off of the rack. Nat had dragged me along to a vintage store in the city in search of a ‘swinging sixties’ appropriate outfit.

“So… when are you going to address the elephant that seems to hang out in every room you share with a certain Sokovian.” A groan fell from my lips, and I attempted to walk ahead of her. “I’m not letting this go!” She called after me.

“There is no elephant, Natasha.”

She hummed. “Right, but you no longer loathe him with all the fire of a thousand suns?”

“You asked me to try! You and Steve practically scolded me for not being the president of his fan club. Remember the whole sparring partners, mission partners, never giving Nadia a break from Pietro Maximoff’s insufferable ass, thing.”

Her giggles filled my ears. “You are so ridiculous.”

I shot her a look of indignation, coming to an abrupt halt before her. “I am ridiculous?! Have you met that idiot?” I ran a hand through my hair. “He is insolent and stubborn-”

“Nadia, you are the most stubborn person I have met in my entire life.”

Her words incensed me further. “I am not stubborn, I…” Natasha’s smug look cut me off. I huffed and turned back toward the clothing rack.

“Argue it all you want but Steve and I were right to put you two together. Look at how far you’ve both come, as much as you claim to hate his guts, you work well together. You just completed a mission that was way more complex than projected and look at how much Pietro’s combat skills have improved after the months you’ve been training him.” I shook my head at her, not dignifying her with a response. For a long moment, neither of us spoke, but Nat continued to watch me. “They didn’t teach us how to love… I know that. They taught us to manipulate, to lie, to kill, but never how to feel anything really worth feeling.” I did not look at her; couldn’t. “And yet, despite everything you have loved, and you have shown love to people… maybe not in particularly conventional ways but fuck convention… you still have.”

I told her I didn’t know what she meant.

“Nadia.” Her eyes were glassy when I looked up, lines with a stream of liquid that glimmered under the lights. “Do you really think I don’t know what they would have done to you?” I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat and looked away yet again. “I know that it cost you, to keep my secret.”

My body was trembling violently, my upper half folded over my legs. I pressed my fingertips into the flesh of my calves, to remind myself I was still alive. Was it my birthday yet? Natasha had snuck a gift into my room before she left, a postcard.

‘Wish you were here’ printed over an illustration of what I believed to be New York City. A single word was inscribed in her handwriting on the other side.

‘ Свобода .’

Freedom.

I’d shredded it into tiny, minuscule pieces the moment I’d read it, destroying any trace of the note. It hadn’t mattered much. Natasha and I were extremely close, and familial. If she were to tell anyone where she was going, it would have been me.

The torture started on a Thursday, I no longer knew what day it was, only that the weekend had come and gone.

“It ends whenever you want it to, Nadia.”

The sharp, glacial spray of high-pressure ice water rained down over my bare back, causing me to cry out. I was still small, but I’d endured torture before, not like this though. I wondered how much longer my body would hold on, my flesh had become so numb that I barely even felt the hits anymore, the ice water was the only thing that elicited any response at this point. I watched as my blood pooled with the water, dripping from my mouth and nose and God knows where else, swirling down the drain. A rough hand grabbed my chin, yanking my head up, Matron Katerina. Her thin, spindly fingers dug into my pale flesh. I had become too weak to hold my head up on my own.

“I don’t know,” I swore to her. “I am not a traitor.  If I knew where she was, I’d kill her myself.”

We’d talked about New York a lot. It became almost a figment of our imagination, a magical place where anything was possible, a place where we’d be safe.

“Freedom,” I murmured.

The tears streamed down her cheeks, but she wiped at them quickly, taking a deep breath. “You were so little, Nadia, you were so small, and still you protected me… You are not this heartless entity that doesn’t feel things just as strongly as the rest of us. I just wish that when you did, you’d let yourself.”

I picked a mini skirt off of the rack, examining it in silence for a moment. “You saw him die?” I tilted my head in her direction. Her silence prompted me to clarify. “Dreykov, you saw him die when you destroyed the Red Room.” 

“He’s dead, Nads.”

“Are you sure?” She furrowed her eyebrows at me, and I placed the skirt back. “At the factory, Obolensky said something to me. He said that the drug samples were going to the ‘next batch of girls'.”

Natasha shook her head, taking a step toward me and placing a gentle, tentative hand on my shoulder. “It’s gone. For good. Obolensky always played mind games, it’s his forte. He’s just trying to live in your head, don’t let him.”

I nodded slowly. She was right, Obolensky's main objective in the Red Room was to teach the widows how to use psychological warfare to obtain information; manipulation was his specialty. It was not out of character for him to lie just to have us living on edge, he’d said he wanted to make me suffer, how better to achieve that than to put in my head that it was still happening? No. I was sure Natasha was right. I attempted to swallow down the uneasy feeling that sat within me.

“This is cute,” Nat said, fiddling with the hem of a dress,

“Have you ever watched the ballet?”

Natasha offered me another incredulous look. “They made us dance it, not watch it. I don’t remember ever seeing ballet performed by someone other than us.”

I nodded, fiddling with my fingers. “I know, that’s what I thought… It’s just something else Obolensky said. I probably just need to get a decent night’s sleep.” I shook my head, running my fingers through my hair once more and taking a deep, settling breath. My nerves were still shot from Moscow and the reunion with Obolensky. I grabbed a lime green mini dress from the rack, holding it up in front of Natasha. “I want this one.” She grinned, nodding approvingly at my choice.

…

“Faster.”

His heavy breathing filled my ears. “I’m trying.”

“Not hard enough.” I adjusted the wraps on my hands before returning to my defensive position in front of Pietro. “Again.” He threw two more jabs which I easily dodged, narrowing my eyes at him. I continued to taunt him as we sparred.

“Can you please be a little nicer to me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Your punches are much better, and your stance is perfect. Now work harder.”

Pietro’s scowl turned into a beaming smile. “Thank you, I’ve been practicing.” I chose not to respond. We still had not addressed that day in Moscow, I was content with leaving it that way. Though, I was hoping at some point the bizarre tension between us would dissolve. “Are you excited for Stark’s party?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What is this? Chit chat?”

“We’re friends, is that not what friends do?”

A choked laugh fell from my lips. “Since when are we friends?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten our bonding moment in Moscow?” It was as if he could read my mind and pick out the most irritating things to bring up. I narrowed my eyes at his reference to that day. Of course, I remembered. The warmth of his hands on my cheeks, his breath ghosting over my lips, the look in his eyes. I swallowed heavily and the corners of his lips upturned into a look so dangerous it had my heart racing. “I just mean you finally admitting you don’t actually hate me.”

“Not completely loathing you is not the same as being your friend.” I hoped it served as a shift in conversation tone, attempting to ignore the flush that crept up my neck.

His smile only grew, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “I think we’re friends.”

“I’m sure you do.”

The air was so thick between us it felt almost impossible to inhale. He raised his eyebrows teasingly and what he did next was infuriating in every way. His eyes moved ever so slowly down to my lips and his tongue peaked out, wetting his own, before his eyes met mine again. He squinted at me for a second, daring, taunting. “Are you bringing someone?”

My teeth were gritted as I willed my heart to slow. When would I have had time to even speak to someone else? I shrugged. “I haven’t decided, but when I do you will be the very first to know.”

The look in his eyes changed, a smirk sat casually on his lips, but his eyes seemed different to me then. “Maybe I should bring someone special.” This game was different, one we’d yet to play. I wasn’t sure if I liked it.

“Maybe you should.”

His teeth were revealed to me as his grin opened his mouth. When Obolensky smiled with his teeth it uneased me, yet it was different when it was Pietro. An entirely different feeling rose along my spine, curving over my flesh. “Did you and Natasha get your outfits?” I hummed. “Will you show me yours?” No matter how much I attempted to fight it, to set my face with a scowl, it was useless. My lips upturned and an amused smile spread across my face.

“Can we spar now or are you going to keep talking?” I crossed my arms over my chest and popped my hip out, continuing to fight my budding grin.

“We can do whatever you want, Prinţesă.”

I rolled my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. “Focus, Pietro.”

“Oh, I’m focused.”

As much as I attempted to ignore his incessant teasing my body seemed to have other ideas. I hated that it was so easy for him to get a reaction out of me. Generally, it was frustration but there were times, most times, when the frustration almost seemed to act more as a mask to something much more complex. I chose to ignore it, clinging to my anger instead. Anger was simple, it came easily to me.

By the time I was pulling the white Gogo boots onto my legs, my body felt like a live wire. I was on edge, awaiting his looks, his words; their undertones. As I wandered into the party, I smoothed a hand over the satin ribbon that sat just before the bump in my hair. People were strewn all over the place, sipping their drinks and filling the area with sound. I accepted a glass of bubbling wine from a tray carried by a man in a black vest, tucking the wrapped package beneath my arm. The sound of Steppenwolf played through the speaker system, traveling along the corridors. On the last step my eyes clapped on him, it drove me crazy how easy it was for me to spot him. He was wearing a plaid three-piece suit, dark green. Our eyes met and a smile tugged at his lips. Warmth rose along the path his eyes took over my body, lips to feet. My heart thrummed against my sternum and much to my chagrin I felt the corners of my lips pulling upward.

“Stop it right now!”

A glance over my shoulder revealed Natasha and Maria Hill staring at me, the former with wide eyes. “What?” I followed their eyes over my body, giving them both a bemused look.

“The way you look should be illegal. Seriously, I’m questioning a lot of things right now.” Agent Hill spoke up.  

I rolled my eyes at the two women, doing a silly little spin for them before shrugging. The three of us laughed and fell into an easy rhythm, conversing about life since Sokovia. I’d always liked Maria, she was… real, I didn’t trust her with all of my secrets, but I wasn’t completely weary of her either. We’d worked together in the field a lot when I was an agent at S.H.I.E.L.D. We’d been a great team; I was glad that she’d stuck around.

“I’m sorry, are we just ignoring that Pietro has barely taken his eyes off of you in the last hour?” Natasha suddenly spoke, an exasperated expression evident on her features. Maria choked on her drink but quickly covered her laugh with a cough when I turned my harsh gaze to her. I glanced over my shoulder at the offending silver-haired man. He offered me a sly smile when our eyes met, excusing himself from Steve and Wanda to approach me. When I turned back around, I caught sight of Tony over Maria’s shoulder. I ignored the look Natasha gave me, shifting swiftly and walking past her.

Tony was talking to Rhoadey when I approached, the latter appearing thoroughly irritated with his good friend. “Happy birthday.” I spoke when Tony spotted me, I quickly shoved the package into his hands. My eyes darted around as he unwrapped it, attempting to seem nonchalant irrespective of the nerves that clawed at me. “It’s just something small, what does one even give a bazillionaire anyway?” I rambled.  He was silent as he flipped through the book, each page printed with an image. One, a picture I’d taken of a wall where someone had spray painted a thank you note, another of Tony messing around with his suits, the caption reading ‘always tinkering’. I’d had to collect images from Pepper, Rhoadey, and the rest of the team to make it. “I don’t know if it’s stupid. Maybe it is.” I watched intently as he reached the final page, an image of the team sitting in the old Avengers tower out of our suits, drinks in hand; calm. The caption beneath read ‘a strange, dysfunctional, irritating family. A family nonetheless.’ I wrung my hands together, looking anywhere but at him as he lifted his gaze.

“It’s not stupid, Nadia.” Finally, I met his eyes. “Not at all.” The look in his eyes said a lot more than any words he could have spoken. I preferred it this way, unspoken, mutually acknowledged.

“Happy birthday,” I repeated.

He smiled at me then and it caused something deep within me to shift.

Stars shining bright above you.

It was the boy at the dinner table across from me, the one who spilled the water all over the table, he was there again. Or a flash of him was anyway, just for a split second, and then he was Tony again. I clutched my head.

Dream a little dream of me.

“Why do you keep playing this song?”

He furrowed his eyebrows at me. “What do you mean?”

“Dream a little dream of me. What is this song from?”

Tony seemed utterly baffled by my question, but there was something else in his eyes, something small and pained; something personal. “I don’t know, it’s a good song. What is your deal? You freaked out in the tower when it played too. Why do you hate it so much?”

I shook my head, blinking rapidly, feeling slightly disoriented. Tony said my name, but I turned away from him quickly, mumbling an excuse as I began to leave his side. Pietro filled my line of sight prompting me to change paths once again. My head was spinning slightly. Everything was suddenly too much, too loud, too close, I needed to be out of this room. A breeze wrapped around me and before I knew it, I was deposited on a balcony in the fresh air. I whirled around to see Pietro watching me, concern evident across his features. The music was much quieter out here and the song had changed. I could breathe again.

The Sokovian man wandered past me, leaning his forearms over the railing, and inhaling deeply. His broad back flattened the fabric of his suit, it was hard to tear my eyes away. The moonlight gleamed around his body, illuminating him.

“I did not need your help…”

“No, you never do.”

I fiddled with the flared sleeves of my dress. “Thank you.”

“Why are you avoiding me?” He continued staring out at the inky black sky as he spoke.

“I’m not.” He let out a theatrical puff of air, glancing at me over his shoulder with furrowed eyebrows. My eyes closed for a moment, a sigh falling from me. “Why would you even care if I was avoiding you? I thought you were going to bring someone special?”  Pietro shot me an unimpressed look over his shoulder, though, I saw the way his lips upturned.

“Well, it’s not like you would have noticed either way.”

I ignored his words. “Couldn’t you find someone willing to deal with you for a night?”

“You seem to ‘deal’ with me just fine.”

“That’s different, we work together. I don’t have a choice.” Was my quick response. I paused for a moment before adding anything else. “I suppose what I meant to say is were you not able to find someone, other than me, to put up with you.”

“Well, therein lies the problem… I’m not sure I want to.” I opened my mouth to respond and then closed it again after a few seconds of floundering. I was sure my brain must have short-circuited. Words meet mouth, why could I not say anything? No witty retort or shielding taunt became apparent as I stared at him, lips parting slightly as he took a step toward me. “Are you okay?” He murmured gently; he was so soft with me. It was unfamiliar and frankly a little frightening. I wanted to say something, I wanted to speak to him. My lips formed his name. It was almost as if it acted as a beckon to him as he took another step toward me the second it left me. He repeated his question.

I nodded twice, watching him carefully. “I’m fine.” 

“You usually say that when you’re not.” 

“I am. It’s just that-” I stopped myself short realizing I was about to tell him the truth. The words had come so easily I’d nearly let them flow right out. 

“Just that what?” 

I shook my head, pressing my fingers to the flesh of my forehead. “Nothing.” 

“Don’t do that.” 

I raised an eyebrow at him, fixing him with an icy glare. “Do what?”

“Nadia.” Another step forward, I was the one who moved I realized. The air between us was electric; dangerous. “Stop acting like you don’t feel anything.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I glared up at him, attempting to appear completely unaffected. “Is that how I’m acting? I was not aware you held so much insight into the inner workings of my brain.” His jaw clenched. There was something in his eyes then, something unrecognizable but somehow it thawed my attitude slightly. “I don’t know… It just… There are these strange things that come to me sometimes. It’s like I’m looking in on someone else’s life through a window. I don’t understand it and that frightens me.” The vulnerability rife in my statement made my stomach churn, sweat beading on the back of my neck despite the cool breeze dancing across my flesh.

He took another step toward me. “It’s okay to be frightened, Nadia.”

I shook my head. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Saying my name like that.” My feet brought me another step forward without my permission. “Stop looking at me like that. Stop being so…understanding.”

The warmth radiated off of Pietro, settling into my skin. I wondered if he was always this warm, maybe it was something to do with his enhancements. Even in Moscow, he’d surrounded me with heat each time our bodies made contact. “Why?” He murmured. “Am I making it hard to keep pretending?”

“I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

“How does it make you feel?”

“Pietro.” It was soft, reminiscent of that night in Moscow in the dim glow of moonlight when I’d woken him from his nightmare. I didn’t know how to answer him, not without revealing too much of myself. I told myself that I didn’t have an answer but even I knew that was a lie. I wondered if perhaps I was simply not built for these kinds of feelings and that’s why it made me feel so strange. The sound of his name filling the small space between us had him taking another step toward me; fully entering my space now. His hand rose slowly, hovering between us, awaiting my permission. I met his eyes, icy blue, beautiful. I nodded gently. He closed the distance, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before caressing the spot just below my eye with his thumb.

His words drifted across my skin causing my eyelids to flutter closed. “I’m glad you did not show me your outfit the other day. It was worth the wait.” My head seemed to instinctually tilt toward the sound of his voice. “Do you like my suit?” Our eyes met and it became apparent that all it would take is one more tilt of my head and his lips would drag over mine. “Tell me.” He whispered when I remained silent.

I nodded gently, gazing up at him. “I do.” His lips curved up.

“What do you like about it?”

“You’re pushing it, Maximoff.” He breathed a laugh, eyes flicking downwards momentarily. I felt like I could barely breathe when he looked at me. “You look good, is that what you want me to say?”

It was his turn to nod.

“You drive me insane; you know that.”

“I drive you insane. What do you think you do you me?” His hand slipped from my cheek down to my jaw. “I wanted to kiss you in Moscow. You know that right?” His gaze was intense, unwavering and I felt like I was melting beneath his touch. “I’ve thought about it every night since. It’s like I’m losing my mind, every second that you stay away is pure torture.”

“I don’t want to torture you, Pietro.”

His lips tugged upward and when his nose grazed mine, I was sure I stopped breathing for a moment. Before I knew what I was doing, I felt my face tilt upwards slightly, leaning more into him. “So don’t.” Every rational thought slipped from my mind, and for a moment, the only thing that existed was him. His lips were soft like I thought they’d be, and extremely adept. Soft, and sweet. The kiss was gentle, and I knew from the moment his lips touched mine that I never wanted it to end.

He overtook every one of my senses. All I could smell, taste, and feel was him, and for some strange reason, his touch seemed to free me. We were so close that I could no longer tell where he ended, and I began. I supposed it didn’t matter, not when he was kissing me like I was the stars and the moon and the cosmos and nothing else had ever mattered. Even when our lips separated, I was still so engrossed in him that I could not open my eyes. We breathed into each other, foreheads resting together. For a long while it was just this moment until it wasn’t.

“I knew you were hot for me.” It was silly and not at all facetious, yet the sound of his voice pulled me from my reverie. It was as if a bucket of cold water was dumped over me and all of the sudden the moment was gone, and Pietro was too close. I lurched away from him, attempting to breathe evenly again. I couldn’t believe I’d been so weak, and let go so easily. It was pathetic and I hated myself. I don’t get to have this; this isn’t what I want. That’s what I told myself. “Are you okay?”

“This was a mistake…” My head was spinning.

Pietro’s face fell as he watched me and the look, he gave me then made everything so much worse. My eyes were stinging, and I resented the feeling that seared through my body. “What? No, Nadia, it was just a stupid joke, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I shook my head, turning to the door that would lead me back inside, away from him. “It’s not what you said, it’s fine just forget it.” He grabbed my forearm to stop me from leaving, it was gentle, always gentle. “Don’t…” I couldn’t look at him as I said it.

“Don’t what? I don’t understand what happened, did I do something wrong?”

The stream of liquid that ran down my cheek enraged me. I shook my head firmly at him, slipping my arm from him and turning away fully. “Just let it go, Pietro. Let me go.”

“Nadia… look at me.”

I didn’t. Instead, I pushed through the balcony doors and re-entered the bustling party. Slipping through the crowd was easy, I’d been trained to move unseen, swift, and silent. The moment I pushed through the main door leading out of the party I let myself sink into the wall, leaning my head back and taking a deep breath. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and shook my head as if to clear my overwhelmed mind. My body trembled and I felt sick to my stomach. Not because of the touch that still lingered on my flesh, but because of the look Pietro had set me with before I left. It was burned into the back of my eyelids. My heart thumped against my sternum. Why didn’t I walk away from him the moment he moved toward me? Why did I tell him the truth? I could have lied, deflected with cold indifference, and have been free of this. I let him bait me, let him lure me into his kindness, into his unabashed truthfulness, and lost control of myself. The worst part is that I knew where it would end if I played along, and I did it anyway. It was as if I’d wanted to end up there. I shook my head again, running a hand through my hair and letting my eyes fall shut.

My peace did not last long, a voice echoed down the hall. “How are you doing?” I glanced toward the sound, it was Rhoadey, but I could not see him.

Another familiar voice piped up in response. “Oh, just superb! You know me, it’s always a party here.” Tony. They must have been around the corner.

It became abundantly clear to me that this was a conversation I was not meant to overhear as Rhoadey continued. “I know it’s harder on days like this… to feel like something’s missing. Like someone, who is supposed to be here, who should have been here isn’t.” I furrowed my eyebrows at the words.

“Let’s not do this whole thing, Rhoadey. Really, I’m fine.”

“I’d be worried if you were fine man. There’s no shame in feeling it.” A loud sigh echoed off the walls. “I’m not going to tell you how to grieve, Tony.”

“Oh, great thanks.” Was the man’s sarcastic reply.

I could almost picture Rhoadey’s exasperated expression. “However-” a jumble of profanities cut him off momentarily. “I am going to tell you not to act like you’re not feeling anything. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, but you cannot just pretend it never happened. You can’t deal with it by forgetting or compartmentalizing, you have to talk about her.”

“Don’t.” I’d never heard Tony sound like that, there was a sternness to his tone, a sharp, demanding edge that left no room for argument. “I did not ask to have some deep and meaningful with you about this, James. We are not talking about her, not ever, so stop riding my ass about healthy grieving or whatever the hell and drop it!” Rhoadey attempted to protest but Tony spoke up again, cutting him off.  “It’s all good, just have another drink, Rhoades.” He was back to his normal, nonchalant demeanor but there was an undertone in his voice that gave away that it was not all good.

Silence filled the hall once more, I decided to leave, not wanting to intrude any further on this evidently private conversation.

Chapter Text

I picked up my pace, pushing my body to move faster across the field. The sun bathed my flesh as I ran. Sweat beaded across my forehead but I ignored it, completing another lap around the compound. I’d decided to workout outside today, a decision which had nothing to do with the silver-haired Sokovian I’d spied venturing to the gym early this morning. I’d been training for the past few hours, cardio workout and then running laps. When my body was moving, I could avoid the things I didn’t want to deal with.

It wasn’t just the moment Pietro and I shared, Obolensky’s words had not left me. I’d laid awake in bed many nights since Moscow racking my brain, trying to understand. He wanted to live in our minds, to destroy us mentally, there was a real possibility that his questions about the ballet were nothing more than tactics to torture me. Yet, even with this in mind, the words would not leave me. There was this feeling deep within, something niggling and unyielding, something that called to me, begged me to look deeper.

“Are we gonna spend the whole day out here?” Natasha asked, shielding her eyes from the sun as she sat dropped down onto the grass.

I sighed exasperatedly, barely sparing her a glance. “It’s a beautiful day, the sun will be good for us.” I began a set of pushups.

“Oh right, so you’re definitely not just avoiding Pietro?”

“I am not avoiding him! I am… Jesus, can we not do this right now?”

She giggled, shaking her head at me. “Fine, we won’t but you owe me after this.”

I sat on the grass beside her, sipping from my water bottle. “What do you want?”

“Let’s go into the city, I need a break from Avengers business for a little while.” Laying out on the warm grass I stretched my limbs, laying my arm over my eyes to block the sun. “And by that, I mean I already booked us a hotel for Saturday night, a whole two-day away from the compound. That means we won’t have to get heat stroke just to avoid your boyfriend.”

The glare I sent her was vicious, it brought a grin to her face. I didn’t move from my position on the ground.

Natasha scoffed at me, moving to her feet and nodding toward the compound. “Are you coming or not?” She extended her hand out to me. The sound of a familiar Sokovian accent filled my ears. I accepted her hand swiftly, lurching to my feet.

“I want to talk to you about something,” I murmured as we reentered the compound. She glanced over at me, eyebrows slightly raised. “It’s about what we spoke about last week, what Obolensky said, the ballet thing.”

She nodded. “You think he was telling the truth?”

I shrugged. “He wanted to torture me but telling me the truth could be the best way to do that.” The look on Nat’s face was one I knew well, she did not need to say anything, there was an unspoken understanding between us. “It could be a lie to mix my head up, but if it’s not...”

“Okay.” She offered me a gentle smile then. “Let’s look into it. We’ll do it together.” She added, taking my hand slowly.

…

It was strange and almost beautiful the way the tree-dappled landscape transformed into skyscrapers, cars, and light pollution. I missed the city, it’s far too easy to breathe upstate, I longed for the smog. We had spoken to Tony before we left for the city. He said he had a plan, he said he’d work on it while Natasha and I were away, and we’d start operation: Swan Lake when we returned. I did not agree to that name.

The first item on the agenda was lunch, we’d stopped at a little, family-run restaurant that we’d frequented before relocating to the compound. The cheerful voice of Maria, one of the owners called our names as soon as we entered through the front doors. She was an elder woman whose face was lined with life experience, and I liked her quite a lot. Even when she insisted on hugging and kissing me each time, she greeted us. “I cannot believe you have finally come back! My, I think I’ll die and never see my favorite girls again.” She had a thick Italian accent that was immensely comforting to me. A basket of hot bread was placed in the center of our table the very moment we sat. “Oh my, Nadia, you are just devastating! You get more beautiful each time I see you.”

I shook my head at the woman who doted on me. “Oh, you are just trying to butter me up, so I order extra bread.” She laughed, kissing Natasha on the cheek before heading back toward the kitchen.

Everything seemed to move slower here, it was hard to explain, as though the moment you step through the doors into the candlelit restaurant you are transported into a sleepy town in Italy. The velvety music that played over the speakers easily covered the hustle and bustle of the city outside, the smell of basil and tomato lulling you into a serene kind of peacefulness that rids you of any negative thoughts.

We were halfway through lunch when Natasha finally asked me the question, I knew she’d been dying to. “So, I know that you know who is out of bounds for conversation but what about your love life in general?”

“What about it?”

“Well, how is it?”

I narrowed my eyes at her then. “How is yours, Natasha?”

“That’s mean.” I thawed slightly at the look in her eyes.

“Sorry.” A beat of silence passed between us. “How are you doing since… Banner went off the grid?”

She looked down at her plate, rubbing at the back of her neck. “Life goes on. Just getting through it I guess.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Is it easier for you to deal with it if you pretend it’s not happening?”

“As if you of all people are giving me crap about avoiding my problems.”

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “I see your point.”

“No way, Nadia Pimenova acknowledging defeat?” I rolled my eyes playfully at her words. There was silence for a moment as she fiddled with her cutlery. “It’s like he just… disappeared, dropped off the face of the earth. I know that he needs time to deal with his stuff, I completely get that, but it’s really hard to just stay put knowing that he’s out there somewhere all alone.”

She pushed a lettuce leaf around her plate, resting her head on her hand. I reached across the table, placing my hand adjacent to hers. “He’s going to be fine, Nat, he’ll come back.” She offered me a sheepish smile, unconvincing at best. “And if he doesn’t, we will go find him together.” Her expression shifted then, the look in her eyes was one that I understood, even if it wasn’t one, I could define.

She would stick by my side whilst I navigated the terrifying road that was my past and I would stick by hers whilst she navigated the equally terrifying prospect of the future. The truth was she’d never needed to thank me for keeping her secret when she defected from the Red Room, for me, there had been no other conceivable option but to lie for her. I would never have sold her out, even when she was gone, I would stick by her. She was the first person who’d ever made me feel like I was not alone in the world. I did not blame her for what she did because I understood it. Matron Katerina and all of the other officials would never have been able to get New York out of me, because it was the one thing they could not take, the one thing that was ours to keep.

I took in a deep breath when we were on the street once more. “What are you doing?” Natasha asked.

“This city smells like shit… I missed it so much.”

She laughed wholeheartedly at my sentiment, pulling me along to walk beside her. We ate bagels and drank copious amounts of coffee and walked for hours. I loved every second.

“I feel like I’m going to explode if I even breathe too much,” I whined into my phone.

Anna’s breathy laugh carried over the line. “Nonna Maria’s and bagels will do that to you.”

“When are you coming back to New York?”

“When are you going to come visit me?”

I sighed exasperatedly. “You know how I feel about London,” I responded teasingly. A bark sounded in the background. “Georgie…” I said wistfully causing Anna to laugh at me yet again.

“So, what else is happening in your life outside of the wonderful reunion with Obolensky?”

Nat offered me a cheeky look as she walked past my spot on the hotel couch. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Don’t you dare.” I spoke quietly to her.

I realized my mistake the moment Anna asked me what I was talking about.

“Nothing, Natasha is just being inappropriate.”

“What’s happened that you aren’t telling me?” Natasha’s loud laughter filled the room. I threw a cushion at her head, though she dodged it easily. “Nadia I swear if you don’t tell me now I’m going to come down there and force it out of you.”

I maintained that Natasha was losing her mind.

“You are a filthy little liar, Nads. Tell me!”

“Pietro kissed her,” Natasha said, hiding behind a cupboard, narrowly dodging another cushion to the head.

“идиот,” I shouted at her.

Idiot.

Anna gasped before laughter once again filled the line. “I cannot believe you weren’t going to tell me about that!”

“It was nothing! He is stupid and he should not have done it.”

“But you did kiss him back,” Nat added.

The glare I sent her was nothing short of lethal. “Oh, I so called this!” Anna piped up. “Didn’t I tell you that he was completely obsessed with you?”

“Jesus, it was a mistake, okay?! He should not have kissed me, and I had a momentary lapse in sanity and facilitated it. Why can we not just move on and pretend like it never happened?”

There was silence in the room for a moment. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding him? You’re hoping he’ll what? Forget that you two made out on the balcony?”

“There was no making out! It was one kiss and I’m avoiding him so that he’ll get the message that I am no longer facilitating anything of the sort.”

“That’s a very sound plan.” Sarcasm dripped from each syllable Anna spoke.

Nat whirled on me then, eyes wide with delight. “So, you admit you’re avoiding him!”

I shook my head, opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water. “This conversation is over! I have no interest in Pietro and he has no interest in me it was a heat of the moment decision that should have never happened and will never ever happen again!”

“Are you sure about that?”

I threw the final pillow from the couch at Nat.

“You’ve got a lot of anger in that little body! You know I can think of a really good outlet for that. He’s about 5’11 and brimming with boyish charm, something tells me he’d be more than happy for you to take it out on him.”

A chorus of laughter came from Natasha and Anna then.

“I am getting very sick of the sound of your voices. You are both delusional!” With that I abandoned my phone and the cackling redhead to collect myself in the bathroom. They were wrong, there was nothing between us, I was just overwhelmed it was the heat of the moment. I forced myself to stop thinking about the way his lips had felt, the way his breath had ghosted over my cheek, the look in his eyes. The sound of running water filled the room at I flicked the tap on, splashing the cold liquid onto my face.

Pietro had attempted to speak to me a minimum of 3 times a day since the night on the balcony. I’d done well in avoiding him so far. During training I’d tell him we could talk later and then I would simply find reasons not to be alone with him after. When I wasn’t avoiding him, I did my best to act completely unbothered by his presence, I was not as cold as I had been in the beginning, but I put forth an indifference toward him. I knew I couldn’t keep this up forever and though I told myself that I was just buying time to figure out what to say, I knew it wasn’t true. There was nothing much for me to say to him when I hadn’t the faintest idea what had prompted me to behave that way with him. It was baffling and the only explanation I’d managed to come up with was that I’d briefly been possessed by some demonic spirit who wanted to wreak havoc on my life. I suppose, truthfully, I was just hoping he’d forget about it before I actually had to face my moment of catastrophically poor judgement.

“Nads…”

“What,” I muttered into the darkness of the room.

A slight snort sounded. “Okay, grumpy.” There was silence for a long moment, the air shifted slightly, prompting me to bite back my next retort. “Do you ever feel like… I don’t know like a nonentity?”

“It is 1 a.m., Natasha.”

“I know, sorry. I’ve just been thinking a lot about the Red Room lately, I guess. It’s strange.” Her deep exhale was almost shaky. “When you first got out, I mean, did you feel like it was hard to rejoin normal life?”

Her question had me thinking back to that time, examining it for the first time in a long time. “There was no normal life for me… for a long time it didn’t really feel like there was even a me, not one that existed without the Red Room.”

“Right! I just feel like the second you’re out you're expected to assimilate, to be just like everyone else but I didn’t know how to do that. I’m not sure if I even do now, or if I’ve just become really good at faking it.”

“It’s been almost 10 years since I got out and there are times… so many times, when I look at other people and I’m not sure I’m ever going to be like that.” A heavy swallow allowed me to continue. “I don’t know who I was before it, it’s not easy to function like a normal human when the formative years you recall were spent learning ways to die most people couldn’t dream of.” 

Natasha was silenced momentarily by this. “I’m sorry if I’ve pushed you with the whole Pietro thing. I know it’s hard… believe me, I know.” I glanced toward her, unable to make out her face in the darkness. “What was done to us was monstrous. What was done to you… I only want you to be happy, I hate that you can’t let yourself be because of it.”

“I’m fine, Nat. Really.” I closed my eyes tightly for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I always am.”

“Because you’re a survivor.”

I rolled over, looking toward her bed. “I learned from the best.”

“It’s your choice, obviously, and you know I’ll have your back no matter what you decide, but I really don’t understand why you want to know whether what Obolensky said is true or not. I spend most of my time actively trying to forget the things that went on.”

It was complex. “What they did was monstrous… they took everything from us… maybe it will not be a pleasant memory, maybe there is nothing to remember, but I want to remember, I need to, Nat. This cannot be just another part of me that I do not get to hold on to.”

The room was lit only by the dim glow of streetlights I could hear the faint sound of traffic below us, petering out slightly at this time of night.

In that moment, everything felt just alright. Somehow, it was perfect.

…

My palms were sweating profusely as I sat in the chair, glancing at Natasha over my shoulder. “Still doing okay?” She asked. I nodded at her, closing my eyes for a moment as the headphones were places over my ears. The screen opened, a girl in covered in white tulle slipped onto the stage, moving stiffly to the classical music that echoed through my headphone. She was beautiful, graceful in a way that made it hard to look away, yet as I watched her, I felt nothing. No memories were sparked, there was nothing. It was the same time after time, for hours I sat and I watched, ballerina after ballerina danced across the stage and yet nothing changed for me. Hours passed me by while I sat there staring blankly at the screen as nothing occurred within my mind. Natasha stayed with me the whole time. At some point she placed a glass of water before me, yet I just continued to watch, never taking my eyes from the screen.

I was furious, how could I let him get to me like this, after all these years. Obolensky was just trying to torment me, and I’d let him. Rage simmered through my veins. I closed my eyes tightly, willing it to settle. Natasha had gone to find dinner some time ago now. I attempted to practice the techniques they used to tell us about in group, focus on one thing, breath into your belly. It didn’t work, I launched the now empty water glass at the wall, pacing back and forth. It was only when I felt the sharp slice of glass across my foot that I stopped. Glancing down, I saw blood smeared across the shards, crimson dripping coating my flesh. I took my seat once more, beginning to pick the smaller fragments from the ball of my foot. Bloody footprints followed me across the shiny floors as I wandered toward the med bay in search of a bandage. When I spotted a roll, I grabbed it and took it back to the room I’d been in, beginning to wrap my foot as one of the ballets came to an end.

I rested my head in my hands, closing my eyes again. That’s how I was positioned when the music began, it was beautiful, but it wasn’t the first time I’d heard it. I felt the sound travel across my shoulders, up my neck, and then back down again, along my spine inducing a shiver.

 ‘Corps de ballet of the State Academic Bolshoi Theatre presents Giselle.’

Those were the words I saw written across the screen when my eyes opened.

There were flashes of red and blue, white and tulle, over and over.

My back was pressed flush to cold metal. I could not move my head or my arms, my legs might have been numb, or maybe they were no longer there. I wasn’t sure. The music had filled my ears for so long that it seemed to have become a part of me, I could not remember where it ended and I began, had it played all my life; perhaps.

There was a ringing sound in my ears.

Giselle was on the stage then. The man she loved was engaged to another, he had lied to her and now she was dead. Then she wasn’t, she came back an apparition, cursed to dance with wanderers until the exhaustion took them to the grave. I thought the girl looked young and she was so sad.

When I blinked, I was back in the compound, my hands were in fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of my palms. My heart was thrumming against my sternum and every muscle in my body was strung tightly. I swallowed heavily, blinking and once again I was transported. Gasping breaths, and cries, that was what filled my ears then, but it was only for a second before it was gone. With a blink there was a man before me tightening binds over my body, placing something over my eyes, another blink and it was gone.

“Nadia?”

I yanked against my binds. The room was white, I think but really, I couldn’t remember. The straps were chaffing against my wrists from how much I’d pulled at them.

“Nadia.”

Again, and again my name was called but I couldn’t tell from where it originated. I gritted my teeth, squaring my shoulders and shutting my eyes, attempting to ground myself; to return to my body. The music was still playing, though it was almost as if I were listening to it underwater. A group of dancers entered the darkened stage, each wearing long white dresses. The man was back, he bent down and peered at me through large, black-framed glasses. I did not recognize him, nor did I recognize this place, this was not the Red Room. I’d never been here before, yet here I was now. The man was speaking, I could hear his voice, but I did not know what he was saying. It was all garbled and muddled. I couldn’t move any part of my body, strapped so tightly to the metal beneath me. I thought there might be tears in my eyes then.

My name was called again. I strained, attempting to find the voice, to come back. The bespectacled man leaned in again, reaching out toward me, a shining needle in his hand. I flinched away from it, but he took ahold of my face. The gentle touch confused me, but when I opened my eyes again, I understood. I was back in the compound, chest rising and falling rapidly, my arms were pressed to the chair, but I was not bound. My eyes danced across the man before me, dark hair and matching eyes.

“Just breathe.”

I was gone again then, but not to the table where I had been bound. I was on the street. There were buildings and some trees planted around the sidewalk. Brick apartment complexes and fire escape lined walls. New York? The breeze tousled my hair slightly, but it barely moved, when I looked down, I saw… plaits, hanging from either side of my head. The sun kissed my cheeks, peeking through the leaves of trees, seeking me out. A voice called down the street, but I did not understand what the person had said. When I looked up, I only saw his back. A young boy walked ahead of me, he wore a dark red backpack with a little key ring hanging from the zip, I couldn’t make it out. I began forward, attempting to catch up with the boy, I reached out toward him when I was less than a pace away, my hand almost making contact with his bag when a voice cut echoed through my mind.

“Nadia, are you still with me?” Tony asked, I could feel the warmth of his hands over my wrists, willing me to come back.

I did. My head was spinning, and I felt unwell. I blinked a few times, but I stayed put, my mind seemingly tethering itself back to my body. Looking around the room I found it the same as it had been before, glass still shattered on the floor. I met Tony’s eyes. Just past him stood Natasha in the doorway with an exceptionally concerned expression.

“He wasn’t lying.” When I spoke, my voice did not sound like me, shaky and wrecked.

For the first time in days, I was in a rush to go train. Natasha and Tony followed behind me with concerned expressions, saying that they wanted to debrief first, they wanted to know what I’d seen. I didn’t really know how to tell them when truthfully, I did not really understand what I’d seen. A jumble of moments that seem completely disjointed and entirely unfamiliar to me. I wanted out of the stuffy room, I needed to move my body, to hit something; to feel something other than the trembling, cold that burrowed into my bones when I thought about the man in the glasses.

After an icy shower, I was straight into the gym, gesturing for Pietro to follow. “We’re sparring,” I said before he had a chance to speak, my tone leaving no room for argument.

I dodged the jab he threw at me, slipping beneath his arm to move behind him, giving him a few slight pointers as we sparred but offering nothing beyond that. There were no taunting remarks from me or mildly flirtatious commentaries from him, it was making my skin crawl, this strange dynamic that we’d fallen into. Particularly now when all I wanted was to focus on something other than the jarring images I’d just endured.

I stretched my arms above my head, cracking my neck before we moved to the punching bag. With a gesture, I told him to begin. His jaw was tense as he began, his stance was perfect as were each of his punches. I wandered around the bag, my eyes trailing over his form. Then he changed his pattern, sending a kick to the bag… with his foot. He sent a glance my way then, eyebrows raised slightly. “Shin, remember how I showed you,” I muttered, attempting to keep my voice nonchalant.

“That’s it!” He exclaimed suddenly, throwing his hands in the air. “I can take no more of this.” I watched him with furrowed eyebrows, not entirely surprised by his outburst and, frankly, feeling slightly relieved at the forced shift in my focus. “How can I make it better? Just tell me what to do to fix things, Nadia.”

I asked him what he meant.

“I preferred it when you acted like you hated me because at least I understood what you were feeling.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. “What did I do wrong here?”

A heavy, sickly feeling pooled in my stomach. The same one that had filled me on the balcony when the hurt had flashed across his expression. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” A little truth, I supposed I owed him that much. “You did nothing wrong, Pietro.”

“We cannot continue like this. I won’t.”  He said, crossing his arms over his chest, he took a step toward me.

“Let’s just forget it ever happened.”

His eyes met mine then, an unreadable expression on his face. “That’s what you want?”

I nodded, once, firm. “I will be your friend, and we will forget about all the other stuff.”

“Friends?”

I nodded again. He mirrored my action, wringing his hands together slightly. “Oh, and don’t ever kick with your fucking foot again.”

Chapter Text

“So basically, they’re all like super rich kids who go to this school, and those two main girls were best friends, but Blair’s boyfriend is in love with Serena and Blair’s mom likes Serena better so there’s tension.” I watched Pietro with raised eyebrows as he spoke animatedly about the show, explaining in great detail the main plot to me. “Then there’s Dan who also likes Serena but he’s not in their group and he’s not rich like the others, but his sister is friends with Blair, kind of.” His eyes looked brighter today or maybe it was just the glow of the TV reflecting off of him. I’d been so entranced by the curve of his jaw and the sound of his voice that I’d been seated beside him for God knows how long now.

A small smile tugged at my lips. “Why did Serena leave?”

“Because she slept with Nate, Blair’s boyfriend.”

I shook my head. “Enthralling, really.”

He smirked at me. “It is.”

“This show sounds completely fucking ridiculous.”

“That’s what makes it so good!” Pietro responded, throwing a handful of nuts into his mouth. “I was sure I’d figured it out, but now I’m starting to think I was wrong.”

“Who the fuck cares who gossip girl is!” He was positively giggling at me now.

I rolled my eyes but was unable to stop the smile from overtaking my expression. It was strange to see him so excited about something so silly. The sound of heels clicking against the smooth floors caught my attention, when I glanced over my shoulder a large smile spread across my lips as I took in the familiar dark-haired woman before me. “Hello, stranger.” I was on my feet in but a moment, Pietro’s head whipping around to see what I was looking at.

“Anna!” I crossed the space between us quickly, allowing her to wrap me in her warm embrace. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.” The smile seemed permanently etched on my features.

“Well, I have a few days before my next assignment and wanted to see your face.” She let go of me and surveyed me, the way a mother would her child. Then her eyes slipped beyond my face to the silver-haired man on the couch and the TV in front of him. The corners of her lips tugged upward as she met my gaze once more. “Are you watching Gossip Girl? Haven’t you already seen it like a hundred times, Nads?”

My cheeks instantly grew warm, and I saw Pietro’s head swing toward me at an alarming speed. I scoffed, shaking my head as I attempted to play nonchalant. Pietro’s entire expression lit up and his mouth fell open as he pointed at me. “You little liar.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen this before.”

“Yeah right! You just like hearing me talk.”

I rolled my eyes, turning back to Anna and setting her with a glare.

“Whatever is happening between the two of you… I like it.” Anna told me as we sat down at the island bench in the kitchen. The look I gave her had a beaming smile spreading across her lips. “As much as I would love to delve so much further into you and Pietro, unfortunately, this isn’t strictly a social call.” The shift in her voice had me sitting up straighter, I knew her well enough to notice the slightest change in her demeanor. Right now, it was evident to me that she was genuinely concerned about whatever she was going to tell me. “MI6 have been looking into a string of assassinations in Europe, we believe it’s linked to a militia group, but we don’t actually have any proof. I’m not supposed to disclose anything specific until you agree to act as the United States representative in the case.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “How very mysterious. If I agree?”

“You’d be flying to Amsterdam in next week to begin recon on a key player.”

“A militia group in Amsterdam? What do they do, smoke joints and ride bikes away from their assassinations?”

Anna’s face twitched as she attempted to remain composed. “They’re not based there. We want you to look into the CEO of a tech company, Tara Janssen, we think she’s stumbled onto something big and is planning on selling it, likely to the militia group. If that’s her intention whatever she’s selling needs to be intercepted immediately.”

I wasn’t particularly concerned about the tech company nor the woman in charge who upon my Google search turned out to be a camera-shy young woman who certainly didn’t strike me as some kind of evil mastermind hacker. However, the general air around Anna and the way she spoke about the case had me questioning my initial beliefs. That is why I agreed to go to Amsterdam and help MI6 with their investigation, even when Anna informed me that they wanted to send me with backup… backup in the form of one Pietro Maximoff. I swallowed down the feelings that nagged at me and the large bright warning signs that flashed through my mind and agreed to this as well. Friends; that is what we had agreed on. Friends did not try to cut each other out of missions. Everything would be fine, we’d been getting along lately, sparring was fine, as was life in the compound. We could share a hotel room for a week without killing each other or repeating any extremely insane lapses of judgment. Yes, I was sure we would be fine. I continued to repeat this mantra in my head over the coming days, in training, at mealtimes, before bed.

Once I was asleep, I didn’t have to think about it because there was plenty to occupy my mind and dreams. At the forefront was the bespectacled man with the syringe. Each night when I closed my eyes, I was greeted by images of him, the music from the ballet was always ringing through my ears as he adjusted my binds and injected me with the undisclosed liquid. Some nights, however, it was different. Some nights I found myself in the sunshine walking along that unfamiliar city street, trying to catch up with the boy in the backpack. Even when I took to a run, I couldn’t catch up to him, I wasn’t sure why I so desperately wanted to. When I was awake it made no sense to me, but in my dreams, there was this peculiar feeling in my chest, a magnetism that propelled me toward the boy.

The wind twirled around my plaits, dancing across the expanse of my flesh and dusting over my cheeks as I returned to the street. I closed my eyes this time, listening to the sounds that surrounded me, trying to find something, anything to explain what I was seeing and why. At first, there was nothing, complete silence, but then, slowly I began to hear. At first it was the faint chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves. I listened harder and the sounds grew louder, footsteps bounced off of the pavement echoing in my ears, prompting me to open my eyes. A shoulder was the first thing I saw, he wore a dark blue sweatshirt, and the corner of a flannel shirt peeked out at me. I wanted to look at his face but my eyes remained trained along his shoulder. When my eyes finally shifted,  the white top he wore beneath his flannel was revealed. Two beakers with different colored liquids within them and a speech bubble extending from one.

‘Hey dude, I think you’re overacting!’ It read.

When my eyes finally reached his face, I realized that he was speaking. His eyes were trained on me, but I couldn’t hear him, his lips moved but no sound came out. I listened as hard as I could. It was as though I were watching something on the television, but the sound wasn’t connected. For a moment I could hear his voice, it was muffled, and I couldn’t understand any of the words, but I could hear him and for some bizarre reason, I felt relieved.

It was like this night after night. The boy would speak to me but none of his words resonated with me, yet each night I would stand before him and listen. Until one night, when things were different, his shirt was the same, stupid science joke, flannel, and sweatshirt over the top. But this time I heard him better, not completely but certain words made it through.

‘Pizza, the kind with the super stringy cheese.’ … ‘not supposed to fill up before dinner.’ …

Then there was something else, a single sentence that would stick to me like glue in my waking hours. Before I could dwell the man in glasses was back, but this time he had the syringe to the boy’s neck.

I lurched from my bed, sweat beading on my forehead. My heart was racing a million miles a minute, thumping against my chest. I pressed my palms to my head, running my fingers through my hair and taking a deep breath.

Cold seeped into my limbs as I walked toward the kitchen, stretching my arms over my head as I went. I sipped from my glass of ice water like a traveler who’d just spent days in the Sahara. The coldness soothed me slightly. A glow emanating from the sitting area caught my attention, the familiar theme song humming through the air. I leaned against the door frame watching Pietro sprawl out on the couch in front of the television. “You really like this show, huh?”

His head whipped around when I spoke, surprise etched across his features, though it quickly shifted into an easy smile. “Rumor has it I’m not the only one.” I rolled my eyes, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my lips.

“Whatever.” I dropped down onto the couch beside him.

He gasped fakely. “Giving into defeat so easily? What have you done with my Nadia?” I settled further into the seat, stretching my legs out to rest on the small table before us. My eyes fell on him then, he was already looking at me. “It’s late. Couldn’t sleep?”

I nodded gently, looking back to the screen. “You know I actually started watching this show because I struggled to sleep.” He raised his eyebrow at me. “It was a long time ago, they used to play reruns of episodes late at night, I just turned it on for white noise but then all of a sudden I’d watched half a season. It was just so easy.” Silence fell between us then. “It’s stupid I know.”

“It’s not.”

I turned my head toward him, leaning it on the back of the couch. He lay in the same position, face close to mine. “Why are you up?” I asked.

“Nightmare.”

“Same.”

“We’re going to Amsterdam in two days. I’ve never been, have you?”

I nodded. “A long time ago, I don’t really remember it.” His gaze burned into the side of my cheek. “It’ll be nice to get out of the compound for a while though.”

“Even if it’s with me?”

“We’re friends now, Pietro.” I looked over at him again, he wore an unreadable expression.

A hum came from him, followed by a nod. “Very special friends.” He was smirking now. That devious little look that made my skin burn.

“You’re very annoying.”

“Well, you’re the one who wanted to be my friend.”

It was astounding that the intensity of my glare didn’t cause him to burst into flames. “I hate you.”

“I don’t think you do.” He had this uncanny ability to make thinking straight impossible whenever he’d look right at me like he was now.

“What makes you so sure? I hated you once, remember?”

He hummed; we were so close that my air was his air. “No, you didn’t.” Before I could retort he was speaking again. “Not really.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, and my lips upturned very slightly. “You seem sure.”

“I know you, Nadia.” I opened my mouth but once again he beat me to the punch. “Deny it all you want but I do. Unfortunately for you, I see through you. You never hated me.”

“I threw a knife at you when we met, not exactly a gesture of friendship.”

He reached forward, dusting a stray curl from my eyes. “Hm, I think you knew I’d catch it; I think you were just playing coy.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are delusional, Pietro Maximoff.” His smile only grew. Once again silence fell between us, a comfortable, soothing silence, only filled by the low hum of a pop song playing on the television. We weren’t even watching it anymore.

…

We were leaving for Amsterdam first thing tomorrow. MI6 had sent over their files, and we were prepped to go. Tony and Maria Hill would be here at the compound on the other end of our comms awaiting intel.

I was currently teaching Pietro a selection of different chokeholds and debilitating holds. “Something about the name guillotine chokehold makes me think I don’t want you to demonstrate it on me.”

A cheeky smile took over my expression as I waved him over toward me. “You’ll be fine. Have I ever hurt you before?”

His eyes became the size of dinner plates then. “Yes!” He spoke disbelievingly.

“Stop being a baby, this won’t hurt.”

I moved toward him, gesturing for him to take up a defensive stance, when he was ready, I took hold of the back of his head. His hair was soft and a little damp from sweat but I didn’t mind. “Are you sure this is a fighting pose?” I chuckled, moving swiftly to bring his head under my arm while the other slid around it to lock him in. He made a sound of discomfort, before I dropped onto my backside, bringing him down on top of me and locking my ankles behind his back to trap him in my tight hold. He tapped immediately and I let him go, laughing at his expression of indignation. “It should not be so easy for you to do that.” He moved back to his feet quickly pulling me up with him. “Show me how.”

It was a simple maneuver, one that he picked up quite quickly. Or at least he partially got it. “You’re not going to choke me out like that,” I spoke nonchalantly, completely unfazed by his weak hold on my neck. “You’re not gripping in the right place and your guard is wide open.”

“My guard is not op-” Before he could finish, I’d slipped from his grip and put him on his back. “That was incredibly rude and plus if I choked you out, I wouldn’t have the pleasure of your incessant taunting.”

“Get off your ass,” I spoke walking back to the center of the mat. “You’re getting it, but you need to put pressure on the carotid artery to send someone unconscious.”

Pietro raised an eyebrow at me. “What am I a doctor? How the hell would I know where the carotid artery is?” His words and the frustration evident in them had my smile growing.

“It’s in your neck.”

“Great. Very helpful, sensei.”

My cheeks hurt from grinning. I took a few steps forward, looking down at his hand that hung idly at his side. It was a few long moments before I did anything. Pietro watched my every movement intently, not daring to glance away for even a second as I took ahold of his hand, situating it between both of mine to fold his fingers down so only two remained standing. Slowly I brought his hand toward myself, one hand sliding down to sit around his wrist whilst the other remained atop his as I pressed his fingers to the side of my neck, just below my ear. He did not speak a word as I dragged his finger along the flesh of my neck above the artery. I took a long, deep breath. His eyes glanced between mine and the hand that lingered on my skin, even after I let my hands drop back to my sides. “That’s the carotid artery.” My words came out as a mere murmur, quiet and soft; gentle. The way his fingertips felt as they slid across my collarbone dipping just a few centimeters lower before they dropped from my body.

The feeling of his fingers made my skin burn as if he’d branded me. I felt all day. Even on our flight to Amsterdam, a deep tingling warmth settled across my skin, the phantom of his touch. He’d been quiet, unusually so and it was beginning to put me on edge. The silence was sending me insane. It was completely unlike him to let me hear myself think. The truth was, I wanted him to talk, because when I was focused on him, I wasn’t thinking about the images that plagued my sleeping mind, the words that the young boy had spoken to me in my dreams. I assured myself that was the only reason I wanted him to speak.

The room was nice, spacious, and the beds were plush; even better, there were two of them. No more sharing, no more forced proximity to my companion who’d spoken a total of two words to me since we arrived.

“Is something wrong?”

He grunted out something that sounded akin to the word no.

“Convincing.” Still, he didn’t speak, instead, he opened his suitcase and began searching through it. Not even offering me a glance. “You know what, it’s good that you don’t want to talk about it. I’m glad because I don’t want to hear about it.” I turned away from him as I spoke the words, grabbing the file from my bag and walking to the next room to look over it. There really wasn’t much point, I already knew it like the back of my hand. We stayed this way for hours, in separate rooms, neither of us daring to speak a word to each other. I didn’t understand what was wrong with him, he’d been in a mood since we finished training yesterday.

As soon as his touch began to fade, I’d blink and feel it all over again. I clenched my hand into a fist, shaking my head. That was enough, the thoughts would stop because I would will them to. Just as I had with the memories of my dreams. The boy had been back each night, the same half-muted conversation, garbled words that were almost impossible to understand, and one phrase that sent a shiver down my spine. My phone buzzed on the table drawing my attention. An address and a time sent by Tony, followed by a message from Natasha that had me gritting my teeth.

‘Be safe… use protection.’

I slammed my phone face down onto the table. “We should eat something,” I said, re-entering the bedroom. Pietro didn’t even glance up at me. I softened my tone; slightly. “Room service?”

“I don’t know… sure, that sounds fine… I guess.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him, he still hadn’t looked at me. “Well, as long as you’re sure.”

The look on his face told me he did not appreciate my sarcasm, yet he didn’t say a word. He continued to stare down at his phone.

“Okay, enough! What is your problem?”

His head whipped up, finally meeting my gaze. “Are you serious?!” I narrowed my eyes at him. Pure exasperation was evident across his expression. “You, Nadia. You are my problem.”

I was enraged that his words struck me the way they did, made me feel something; something entirely unpleasant and wholly sickening. “What did I do?” My tone was cold, yet there was something small beneath the shield of indifference. Something trembling and hurt.

He was on his feet then, pacing the floor beside his bed. “You can’t seriously not know what I mean.”

“Most of what you say is nonsense, it cannot be surprising to you that sometimes I’m a little lost.” I could almost feel his anger from the other side of the room, it was palpable. Part of me was thrilled by it, part of me ached to keep prodding him, keep poking the proverbial bear. So, I did. “Well, are you going to say something? I’m on the edge of my seat here, really, you know how I love hearing your grievances.”

His glare almost had a laugh bubbling in my throat. Then, suddenly it dissolved into a mask of cool indifference. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

I was taken aback by his sudden shift, even his tone had changed. It was honestly a little impressive. “Not a chance, you started this, so finish it. Air your grievances, Pietro, tell me what’s got you so riled up.”

“We’re not talking about this now.” My eyebrows shot up at the tone he took with me. Bold.

“Oh, you’re telling me what we are and are not going to talk about? Is that what’s happening right now?”

He’d crossed the room in a few long strides. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?” His tone remained. “Are you going to tell me, Nadia? I know you have a plan, you’re nothing if not calculated.

I smiled at him, no doubt in my mind that the look was chilling. Amusement evident on my face. “You’re being a prick right now, it’s a little funny, but you should probably stop.”

“Is that what I should do?”

“If you know what’s good for you it is.”

His jaw clenched. “Tell me what the fucking plan is, Nadia.” His voice stayed even, not raised, same cold tone. There was fire in his eyes.

“Ask me one more time.”

He did.

My hands were fisted at my side. I had no clue what was going on right now. My body was so tightly strung I felt ready to explode, rage and something entirely different simmered in my belly, urging me to move toward him.

“I’ll pretend to be a new waitress at the coffee shop Tara Janssen frequents. You’ll pretend to be a customer. The plan tomorrow is the same as it will be every day for the next week, we will watch her and take notes.”

“So, what I sit around for a week and hope she accidentally tells us she’s a criminal mastermind?”

“You’ll sit down, shut up, and eat a fucking pastry until I tell you to stop. Is that clear enough?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and turning away from me. “And you say I’m a prick.” Before I could even process what I was doing I was less than a pace from him and shoving him hard. He spun sharply on his heel to face me; disbelief evident on his face. “Very mature.” I went to push him again, but he caught my arm before I could, yanking me forward in the process. My chest was flush with his and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t stop my eye from dropping to his lips for just a moment. Before anything else happened, I yanked myself from his grip, turning away from him immediately.

“Stop now. That’s the plan, it’s going to be a long week, so just get some sleep. Lose the attitude too.” Before he could say anything else I’d stormed to the bathroom.

Our first day undercover had been much the same. A cold quiet breakfast where Pietro barely acknowledged me, a long boring day serving coffees and bugging the CEO’s phone. I’d been issued with a wig and glasses to complete my persona. Code name: Emma Salsberry, English university student studying abroad. It was an easy character; one I could play in my sleep. When we’d returned to the hotel, I’d set up our listening equipment on the dining table, lots of fancy tech things that would emit recordings caught from the target’s cellphone. Tony had explained it to me, but I hadn’t really been listening. Pietro dropped down onto the couch as I began to listen to the audio. MI6’s intel said she was supposed to be having a meeting at the coffee shop on Thursday. I spent hours there, listening intently to the CEO talk about menial things, it was endlessly dull.

“Why do we think that she’s guilty again?”

The first hint of normalcy from him. My head shot up at the sound of his voice, relief bathing over me at his perfectly regular tone. I shrugged. “Apparently, she stumbled upon something she shouldn’t have. I don’t know, MI6 are very cryptic.”

He nodded and then there was silence again. It was beginning to eat at me, the sound of the clock on the wall gnawing at my brain. Eventually, I could take no more and I stood to go take a shower.

“I’m sorry that I called you a prick.” These were the first words out of my mouth when I emerged from the steam filled bathroom, toweling at my hair as I went.

“It’s okay I was acting like one.”

Even in his acknowledgement his words were still cold, distant. They sounded nothing like him. “Please tell me why you’re so mad at me.”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair, sending me a solitary glance over his shoulder. “I do not understand how you don’t know why I’m mad.”

I clenched my hands into fists, rage coursing through my veins. The anger management exercises were not helping so I stormed into the next room, however, it was only a mere moment before I lost control and stormed right back into the living area. “Because it comes easily to you!” I exclaimed, causing his head to whip in my direction. Shock written across his expression at my outburst. “All of this-” I waved my arms between the two of us. “It comes easily to you, so of course you do not understand. It does not come easily to me.”

“What are you talking about, Nadia?”

“I never learnt how to feel things! I learnt where the major arteries are, how long it takes someone to bleed out. There was nothing but the mission in the Red Room, that is all we were for, killing and completing the mission. For the majority of my life that is all I knew. Nothing else mattered, not emotions or these menial rules of politeness. I do not know how to feel things like normal people, and yes, I am aware that irrespective of this I do feel things.” I recalled Natasha’s words as I spoke. “But I do not understand my feelings, and understanding how other people feel is an entirely different problem. I don’t know when I’ve hurt someone, I can gather when they’re mad at me. It’s the why that I struggle with. I know that I’ve done something to hurt you, but please don’t ask me to guess how because that I can’t do.”

He looked at his feet for a moment before meeting my eyes, his were a fraction softer than before. “I know. I’m sorry that I was mean to you, but I don’t want to talk about this now.”

I nodded, fiddling with my fingers. “Fine we won’t talk… but you don’t get to keep treating me like shit, at least not while we’re on this mission.”

He agreed, a single firm nod of his head accompanied his verbal confirmation. I wasn’t entirely satisfied but at least we’d be able to get this done without killing each other… potentially.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Bright white lights blinded me with every blink, causing me to shut my eyes tightly. A pounding ache set into the side of my head as I became conscious. My hand shot to my head a low groan coming from my very dry throat as I pressed against the spot the pain was coming from. A soft hand closed around my forearm, causing me to open my eyes fully. Anna stood at my bedside and Natasha sat on the end of the bed, both gazing at me with tender looks. I rubbed at my head, glancing around the room. It looked like we were in the med bay back at the compound. “What happened.” I managed to get out.

“Someone warned Tara you were coming.”

I hummed, coughing shortly after. Anna moved a cup of water with a straw toward my lips. I gulped down as much of the liquid as I could. “Yeah, she knew who I was, I don’t know what else though. We were trying to get our intel from the hotel but then there was a car and…” I moved up right quickly.

“Pietro! Where is he? Is he alright?” I tried to pull at the chords attached to me, but Nat stopped me.

“He’s fine, Nads, worried about you but fine. He said something about a fruit doughnut or something.”

“Plum dumplings.” I muttered, settling back into the pillows behind me.

Anna and Natasha shared a look before turning back to me. “Right, well, you did a good job, we’ve got what we need.”

“The intel, it was in the hotel room, someone needs to go get it.”

“We already did, don’t worry, luckily only we knew where you two were staying, Maria Hill went and cleared the hotel as soon as we got the call that you were injured. We recovered everything.”

I sighed in relief at Natasha’s words. “One of the guys who tried to attack us in Amsterdam, he was Hydra.” Both the women beside me sighed.

Anna rubbed a hand over her face. “I should’ve known they’d be involved. They’re probably one of the potential buyers.” She sat beside me once more, reaching into her bag and pulling out a little brown plastic pot, chocolate pudding. My spirits lifted instantly. I grabbed the container from her and tore the lid off, digging in ravenously. “Hmm, I suspected even a nasty concussion wouldn’t stop you from devouring that.”

“You really are a saint!” I spoke around a mouth full of the chocolate delicacy.

Nat snorted, watching me intently. “Those things are so gross, but I love you and I’m really glad that you’re okay, so I won’t judge.”

“These are the nectar of the gods, and they just give them out for free in hospitals. Insanity.” Both Anna and Natasha laughed at me, but I ignored their teasing, cleaning the pot completely. When it was finished, I set it aside, sighing contentedly. “So, what do we do now?”

“You do nothing. We’ll handle this, all you need to focus on is resting.” Anna said.

I shook my head, sitting upright. “What? No, I’m fine!” Before either of them could argue I continued. “I know I always say that, but I really am this time, it was just a concussion. It hurts a little still, but I’ll be good to go by tomorrow. You can’t change my mine I’m seeing this mission through.”

“You’re actually admitting to being in pain?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, whatever. I’m really okay, let me finish this.”

They very reluctantly agreed, only after checking approximately a hundred times with the doctor to make sure I was actually okay. I agreed to spend the day resting and recuperating and that sealed the deal for me. Tara was heading to Morrocco to finalize her sale and hand over what Tony had referred to as the backdoor to the internet. Nat and I would fly out late tonight to stop the sale and hand ser over to the authorities. Each of the Avengers had been to see me after I was released from the medical wing, Cap and Sam had caught me on my way back to my room, Vision had walked through my wall to say he was happy that I was recovering, chilling really. Tony had brought me some food earlier as well, giving me some story about how he’d accidentally made too much when he was preparing his lunch, as if he normally cooks for himself anyway. I’d let him get away with his lies, scoffing the food down the second he left. After I’d eaten and had painkillers all but forced down my throat by Anna, I made my way to Pietro’s room. Wanda was leaving just as I arrived at the door.

“Oh sorry… I just…” I shook my head at my ridiculous stuttering. A kind smile spread across her lips.

“You look okay.” She shut her eyes tightly, her smile turning sheepish. “What I mean to say is that you look like you’re feeling better, I’m glad.”

I nodded at her. “I figured.” It wasn’t mean, wasn’t cold or angry like I had always been with her before this moment. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about her, but she hadn’t been exactly wicked and terrible in the months she’d been here. In fact, after our little tiff, she’d stayed away from me like I asked. She’d respected me, and I appreciated that, so in return I could be nice. Even if it felt strange.

“He really is a stubborn ass sometimes, I’m sure you know that by now.” She spoke up, gesturing toward the door behind her. “He’s so worried, hasn’t stopped asking about you… but he’s too pigheaded to be up front about it.”

“Is he okay?”

Her smile brightened. “He’s fine, a little banged up but still just as annoying.”

A laugh filled the air between us and with some shock I realized it was me. Despite myself, and despite our tenuous relationship I’d laughed at what she said. I swallowed the laughter quickly, glancing at her and offering a tight-lipped smile. “Do you mind if I…” I gestured toward the door. She moved instantly out of the way nodding fervently. “Just to check he’s still alive and update him on the mission, that’s all.” Wanda positively beamed at me.

“Of course.” With that she turned and wandered off down the hallway.

The door felt daunting as I stared it down, I wasn’t sure what to say, things were pretty complicated between us right now. Nonetheless I knocked, resting my head against the surface as I awaited a reply. “Come in.” He called soon after.

He sat more upright the second I entered, pushing himself to sit straighter before me. His leg was in a bandage and surrounded by some sort of non-enclosed cast, I was assuming it was just for the three days or so it would take his enhancement to heal him. “Hi.” I murmured, stopping by the end of his bed.

“Hi.”

“How are you doing?” I asked.

He scanned my body. “Fine. You?”

“Fine.” He nodded at my words, falling silent once more. I fiddled with my fingers, glancing around the room for something to look at that wasn’t him. It was then that I realized I’d never actually been in here before, it wasn’t what I expected. Dark grey and blue furniture as well as a few bits and pieces lying around, a soccer ball in the corner, some books strewn across his nightstand and a line of sneakers peeking out from the open door to his closet. “Agent Hill recovered our intel from the hotel, whoever sold us out didn’t have all the details apparently, so at least there’s that.”

He nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

“It is.”

He looked down at his lap. “So, what now? It’s over?”

“Well, she’s still planning to sell her files so I’m going after her to stop that from happening.”

“Okay so what we wait a few days for me to heal then we’ll go finish this?”

 I shook my head at him, confusion no doubt evident on my face. “No, you should just rest, let your body recover, Nat will come with me to Morrocco to stop Janssen.” The room turned glacial in an instant, or perhaps it was just the icy glare Pietro set me with.

“It’s just a few days, probably less, I heal fast.”

“Pietro you said it yourself, you don’t heal that fast. In a few days Hydra could have those files, I won’t let that happen.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my head, the headache beginning to set in again. “It’s not a big deal, you’re hurt right now, Nat and I can finish this off while you heal up.”

 “Why does it not surprise me that you’d cut me out of the mission the first chance you get?”

His words were like a punch to the gut. I took a step back almost as if I’d been physically wounded by them. “That’s not what I’m doing… I’m not cutting you out of the mission, you have a broken leg, there’s nothing you can do like this.” He scoffed at me, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. My eyes were stinging, and I couldn’t stand it. “That’s really what you think of me? That I’m a heartless monster who doesn’t give a shit about you? That I’m more worried about cutting you out of a mission than stopping a national security threat? You think that I don’t care that you got seriously hurt? Fine. Think whatever you want, Pietro. I have to go.”  His face changed instantly at my words.

His voice stopped me as I turned to leave. “No wait, Nadia. I’m sorry, please wait!” I closed my eyes for a moment before turning back to face him with a raised eyebrow. All of the emotions that had been missing from his in that past week were written plain as day across his face. His eyebrows sagged slightly, guilt and hurt present on his features in equal measure. “I just don’t know what is going on – we kiss, and you don’t want to talk about it or acknowledge that anything happened but then you look at me the way you do and you bring me Sokovian desserts to make me feel better and listen to me even when you act like you don’t care and I just don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?”

“I don’t get what is happening here… between us.”

Running a hand through my hair didn’t soothe me as much as I’d hoped it would. “I agreed to be your friend, Pietro, what more do you want?!”

“I never asked for that!”

A scoff fell from my lips as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Oh, you didn’t ask me to be your friend. Didn’t beg me to be nice to you?”

“No-” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh. “That’s not what I meant, I wanted to be your friend but that isn’t all I wanted to be.”

“What are you talking about?”

He shook his head, looking at me the same way he had in the hotel hallway the other night. “I think you know, Nadia.” My heart was pounding against my sternum, so fast I was sure that I was going into cardiac arrest. “It wasn’t a heat of the moment decision for me; it wasn’t whatever you are telling yourself it was. I kissed you because I wanted to.” He swallowed heavily. The look in his eyes made my cheeks burn. “I want to… all of the time.” He continued while I remained silent. “I was cruel to you in Amsterdam and I’m so sorry, I just… it’s really hard to be around you when all I can think about is how badly I want you to tell me you feel the way I do.”

I shook my head at him, looking down at my feet. My eyes were stinging again, and I didn’t know why. I opened my mouth to respond but before I could a familiar voice called out to me.

“Nads, we need to prep before we leave, you ready?” Natasha appeared in Pietro’s doorway, completely oblivious to what he’d just revealed to me.

…

Sweat beaded on my forehead the second I stepped off the plane in Marrakech. The heat here was dry and a shock to my system, yet it was the furthest thing from my mind right now. It had all gone rather quickly, the period between Pietro telling me… what he’d told me and getting on the plane. I hadn’t even had time to formulate a proper response beyond a brief goodbye.

The sale of the Tara’s hard drive was taking place tonight at 6pm in a room at one of the most exclusive hotels in Morocco. We began getting ready as soon as we got to the hotel, hiding weapons on ourselves and testing the equipment. This was supposed to be a simple task, though after the last two missions I wasn’t holding my breath. Anything could happen, I had to be ready for that and I was… Mostly, though, I knew there was a part of me that was distracted, a part of me that was still in New York, standing in Pietro’s room with him.

I want to.

All of the time.

I’d tried to shake it off but the sensation that lived in my stomach seemed unwilling to dissipate. Frustratingly, this feeling didn’t seem content to be yet another item on my growing list of things I could simply ignore. It clawed at me, sung to me, pleaded with me, demanded to be felt by me.

It was that distraction that had allowed them to get the jump on me. The first face I saw was a familiar one, the man from Amsterdam with the Hydra tattoo. I blocked his first hit and the second but the third landed. My body doubled over unwittingly, the moment the impact rippled through my body I knew that there would be a nasty purple bruise where he’d hit. A glance at the brass band over his knuckles explained the extent of the pain. I persevered, throwing expert punches and maneuvering around his hits until I began to feel a little woozy and my vision became blurry. The strange thing about getting injected with things in the heat of a fight is that the adrenaline tends to cover the initial sting of the needle. My hand slapped against the side of my neck entirely too late, each movement so much slower now. Somewhere, someone was shouting my name, but I was out cold before I could process much else.

My body was jostled slightly, prompting me to open my eyes. It was dark and cold here. My vision was still slightly blurred, and the muscles I could feel were like jelly. I thought I might have been in the back of a car, the boot. Consciousness came and went and when I awoke again, I was in a hot, damp room. It took me several moments to realize I was standing, well not really, I was being held up by ropes around my wrists, but the feeling had only just begun to fully set back into my limbs. The rope chaffed my wrists, rubbing them raw.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” A familiar voice spoke, waking me up slightly more. Tara stood before me, momentarily appearing as a double. I closed my eyes tightly for a moment. When I reopened them, things were a little clearer, the room I was in was bare, stone walls, a single chair, Tara, and me.

“You know I actually, didn’t think you were that bad at first. I’m beginning to re-evaluate though.”

The woman before me laughed heartily, taking a step toward me. “Guessing friendship is off the table then huh?”

“What the fuck do you even want?”

“Well, it’s not really about what I want, dear Nadia.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Let me guess, it’s what Hydra wants, customer satisfaction is really that important to you?”

“You still don’t get it do you?”

The two men from the café entered the room. I was beginning to. A humorless laugh left me. “For fucks sake, you’re Hydra.”

A deranged smile spread across her lips. “Bravo, finally we are on the same page! I do hope you aren’t too cross with me about all this pretense, it was all a means to an end you see. I hold up my end of the bargain, deliver you on a silver platter, they protect me while I complete the sale. Plus, if Hydra has you it gets you off my case.”

I wasn’t so sure I understood now, wasn’t sure I really wanted to. What did Hydra want from me?

“Where is Natasha?” I asked, ignoring her previous words. Her smile brightened as she placed two small objects on the chair she had previously been seated in, our comms. I yanked on my binds, glowering at Tara. “This really isn’t the right decision, Janssen. I can assure you Hydra is not the winning team you think it is.”

She merely turned her back, addressing the two men now. “Sie gehört ganz dir.”

She’s all yours.

I yanked on the binds again, setting the tattooed man with a glare as he began to approach me. He had buzzed off hair that appeared to have been blonde and a long scar from his forehead down across his left eye. The brass knuckles were still situated over his fingers as he stared me down, a coldness in his gaze that almost rivalled my own.  The other man leaned against the wall by the door, locking it after Tara exited. It remained like this for a long while, buzzcut just standing there staring, doorman watching from a distance. “Jesus Christ, are we going to stand here all day or are you going to torture me?”

The metal met my ribs once, twice, three times. I coughed from the impact, the end cutting off into a laugh. “Who taught you to punch? A 6-year-old?” He hit me again and again, I laughed in his face. I learned quickly that the more I ridiculed him the worse the beating got, not that I’d expected different. Even with his particularly hard punches that winded me and bruised my ribs it was still not the worst I’d endured. The next time I got lippy the hit was to my face. Minutes passed, or maybe they were hours. Occasionally buzzcut would let up, taking a break for his own benefit I assumed.

Blood dripped from my lips as my head hung between my shoulders. “Most of the hits had been to my stomach and sides, though I was sure I had a bruise across my cheek and likely a split lip.

“Remind me what the point of this is.” I managed to get out. “Are you trying to get information or something? Because usually step one is asking a question.”

Finally, a response came from the doorman, first a laugh, then words. “We don’t want information from you, Nadia. Well, we do, but that’s not what this is about.” He grabbed ahold of my chin and yanked my head up to face him. He had dark hair and features but was so pale he appeared sickly. “We want to recruit you.” A thick German accent underpinned each of his words.

“Oh okay, so this is just a welcome ceremony or something?” I spat my blood at his feet. “Just showing me what I’m definitely not missing?”

He narrowed his eyes. “No, no, this is merely a test, we just wanted to make sure you were as we remembered.”

I raised a single eyebrow. “Oh, that makes perfect sense. So, the test was a few shitty punches from this idiot? Hydra really has gone soft.”

He smiled at me. “Of course not.” My arms were untied, and I was strapped to the chair in the corner. It was around the time the chair was tilted back and a towel was placed over my face that I clued on.

“Oh, for fucks s-” I was cut off by water being poured over me I clenched my fists and attempted to remain calm, steeling my every nerve against the sensation of drowning. It burned and my lungs felt like they were going to burst, it was just as shitty as I remember it being. I tightened my fists as it became more and more unbearable, and the water kept coming.

Finally, there was a reprieve as the towel was removed from my face. I coughed and gasped for air; every fiber of my body strung tightly as I struggled to get the air in. “Reconsidered the offer yet?”

“You made me an offer?”

The towel was replaced, and the water returned. The pattern would continue for well over an hour, a short reprieve upon which the man checked in with me. Eventually he gave it a rest indefinitely, dropping the towel but keeping me strapped to the chair. The water returned soon after though, ice water being dunked over my head. Just like old times. My body was tensed almost painfully, the cold seeping into each of my nerve endings and sending a deep shiver down my spine.

The man grabbed me by the back of the hair, forcing me to look at him. “Join us.”

My body was shivering violently and the slither of light from the window was now gone, prompting me to believe it was nighttime. “No thanks.”

He shook his head at me. “It ends whenever you want it to.”

And just like that I was gone, a blink and I was in a different room, bound to a different chair with something strange on my face.

“It ends whenever you want it to.”

The man in the glassed scribbled on a clipboard, glancing at me occasionally.

“Tell me who you are.”

I felt my lips moving but I couldn’t hear the words that left them. The ballerinas were back, dancing across the screen before me, it was different this time. The music, the outfits. The girl had a feather crown around her head.

When my eyes opened, I was back in the torture room but buzzcut and doorman were long gone. In their place was Tara, sitting across from me. I swallowed heavily, allowing my head to fall back. Every part of my body ached. “Honestly, can’t a girl get a little piece and quiet.”

“Joking until the bitter end, you really are impressive, Nadia.”

I rolled my eyes at her.

“Why are you even here? FOMO?”

She smirked at me. “Well, I just wanted to tell you the good news.” I didn’t dignify her with a response. “My buyer has finally arrived in Morrocco, how fun? I’ve just sent the boys to go begin the meeting.” This was such bullshit, last time I ever fucking help MI6. “Honestly, whatever intel was being fed to you and Natasha was really shitty.”

“Fuck you.” I muttered.

She sighed exasperatedly. “Well, that’s really all I had to say, anyway best be off.” She stood, waving at me tauntingly.

Before she was out of reached, I kicked out and caught her leg with mine, tripped her and using the momentum to kick back of the chair hard, the wood shattering as it hit the concrete ground. I yanked my arms upward, wooden side handing from my binds. Ignoring the immense agony I swung on Tara, easily landing hit after hit. “I told you it was a bad decision.” I said, dragging her to the ground and punching her again.

The sharp, burning pain in my abdomen had me hesitating, Tara and I both looked down, the black and red handle of the screwdriver peeking out from within my body. “Holy shit…” Her mouth fell open. “I’ve never stabbed anyone before. I don’t know why I did that I’m so sorry.” She yanked the object from me causing me to cry out.

“No! You fucking idiot!” I wrapped my leg around hers quickly, sending her tumbling to the ground and punching her. The adrenaline pumping through my veins stopped me from feeling the pain. I knew I needed to make this quick, there was not going to be fight left in me for long. She slipped her hand free, pressing hard into my wounded side to disable me. I yelled as white-hot agony seared through me, falling to beside her. With gritted teeth, I pushed through the pain, grabbing her arm as she tried to escape and twisting it around behind her back pulling her back down so that her back was pressed to my chest. She thrashed as I wrapped my arms around her neck. The pain in my side was so extreme I could feel tears streaming down my cheek, I put further pressure on her carotid artery tightening my legs around her as I felt her begin to fall unconscious. When she went to sleep, I double checked for a pulse, making sure she’d be okay. When I found it I shoved her from me, laying back and letting out a few painful breaths. Finally, I managed to push myself up, grabbing Tara’s arms and dragging her over to the pillar in the corner. The rope I’d been tied with was still laying on the ground for me to restrain her with. When I was sure she wasn’t escaping I threw the file down on her lap and stole the watch from her wrist.

Blood covered my hands, leaving stains on everything I touched. The fabric of my shirt clung to me as a patch of red appeared. Looking down at the time on Tara’s watch, I realized it was 3:45pm, I’d been bleeding freely for at least 3 minutes already. I let my hand fall to my abdomen, grazing over the wound, closing my eyes I thought hard to remember the internal anatomy in an attempt to decipher what she may have hit. I didn’t think the bleeding was rapid enough to have been an artery or my spleen unless it was just a nick. The button up shirt I wore would have to be a good enough bandage for the time being, I slipped it from my shoulders before wrapping it tightly around my stomach. Things became a little blurry about the time I shoved the heavy metal door open to reveal the afternoon sky, there was a mild breeze blowing over the sweat that glistened over my skin.

I stumbled against the side of the car that I’d been brought here in. A bloody handprint was pressed into the light grey of the door. I looked at the watch again, 3:51. There were no keys in the ignition so I began searching the car as quickly as I could, sun visor, glove compartment, center console; nothing. Something gleaming from the floor of the passenger seat caught my attention, a phone. I grabbed it typing in the familiar number, Natasha wouldn’t have her phone so that isn’t the number I dialed.

“Hello.”

“Tony.” I ground out, putting the phone on speaker and navigating into maps.

“Nadia? Are you okay? Where the hell are you? We lost you on the map.”

“I’m fine, sending you some coordinates, it’s where I left Janssen unconscious. I stopped the sale, but you need to get someone out there to grab her. Hydra aren’t the buyers, they’re the sellers, that militia group Anna mentioned, that’s who is actually buying, they’re waiting back at the hotel for Tara, it’s only a matter of time before they come looking for her.”

When the coordinates went through, I began working on hotwiring the car, I needed to get to a hospital sooner rather than later. “It’s all good, Nat’s handing the buyers, but you don’t sound fine, where are you?”

“Just get someone to the coordinates.”

“Yeah, got it MI6 is on their way. What happened to you?”

I finally got the car going and stepped on it, the roads were blurring together as I travelled down them. “She stabbed me with a fucking screwdriver, I’ll be fine I’m going to the hospital now, just make sure they get Tara. Thank you, Tony.”

“Nadia, don’t you dare hang up!” I ended the call before he could continue.

That ringing I knew all too well filled my ears. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, steeling myself and pushing through the weariness. Passing out simply was not an option, I just needed to get to the hospital and everything would be fine. I could feel the strength slipping from me by the minute, but I held on tighter. This wasn’t happening, not like this.

Not when I never got to answer him. Pietro. I wasn’t even really sure what I was going to say to him, but I deserved the chance to say it just like he deserved a response. I was not going to die in this fucking car because of some stupid Hydra bullshit. Typical, even when I’m bleeding out that Sokovian dickhead was still heavy on my mind. I groaned out loud, narrowing my eyes on the road in an attempt to focus my blurry eyes.

It took opening my eyes to even realize that they’d been closed, my shirt was damp I wasn’t sure if it was sweat or blood, maybe both. The car had stopped and there were flashing lights all around, an unfamiliar voice spoke to me. “Miss, can you hear me?” I wanted to nod but I wasn’t sure if I had the energy. The flashing lights came and went, white rooms, needles, bandages, red hair.

“I’m so fucking sick of you seriously.” I heard a soft voice say.

I smiled weakly at Natasha as my eyes focused, a different hospital, the same friend, sister. “Please tell me we did it.”

She laughed tearily. “Yeah. We did it, Nads.”

…

I gave her hand a tight squeeze as we got off the plane.

“I’m fine.” Her glare almost set me alight. I just smiled.

The New York breeze wrapped around me, welcoming me in. Tony was the first person I saw off the plane, he pulled me into a tight hug. “Please don’t remove me limbs from my body, I’m just kind of glad you’re not dead.” I rolled my eyes, patting his back gently, body stiff, nonetheless. He took the bag from my hands wandering off further into the compound.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” My head whipped around at the familiar voice, lips upturning at the look of pure frustration and disbelief written across his features. Suddenly, Nat was nowhere to be found. Pietro took a few steps toward me. “Do you genuinely have a death wish?!” My smile widened. “Honestly, I do not know what your prob-” I yanked him to me, hands finding the sides of his face as our lips joined. Nothing had ever confused me so much but at the same time made so much sense. I didn’t really get it, but at that moment I really didn’t care. It felt just like it had on the balcony, as if each one of my nerves had become a livewire and everything was okay, comfort and chaos all at once but I wasn’t running this time. I leaned my forehead against his when I pulled away, swallowing heavily.

“You didn’t see that coming?” I murmured, breathless.

His lips curved up into a soft smile, eyes still closed.

Chapter Text

“No, I didn’t.” His words were an exhale, the smile never faltering.

I breathed a laugh. “I have to keep things interesting.”

“You’ve never struggled to interest me.” His lips were back on mine within seconds before I even had time to process his words. Pietro tugged me closer to him by the hips, my hand slipping into his thick silver hair. My skin tingled as his chest pressed to mine, I needed to breathe yet the thought of pulling away was entirely unreasonable to me then. The buzzing of my phone in my pocket had him pulling back, a small smirk on his face. “Are you going to get that?” I rolled my eyes yanking the device out to see a text from Nat.

‘If the two of you are done eating each other’s faces the director of MI6 is here.’

I sighed exasperatedly. “Bureaucracy calls.”

Pietro’s smirk only grew. I turned to walk toward the conference room with the man hot on my heels. His choice to remain a few paces behind me rather than beside me had me narrowing my eyes. “Sorry, the view was just too good to pass up.” I followed his eyeline before stopping abruptly in my tracks when I realized what he was staring at.

“You are pushing it, Maximoff.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Oh, I think you like it when I push you.”

“You have the rest of your life to be an annoying prick, why not take today off?”

“Well, you could always punish me by kissing me some more, I think that might help.”

I turned sharply, entering the conference room to see Steve and Nat seated at the table across from the director of MI6. The graying man stood, turning to face Pietro and me.

“Agent Pimenova, good to see you again.” He held his hand out to Pietro. “I’m Director Abbott, you must be Pietro Maximoff. MI6 thanks you both for your assistance in the arrest of miss Janssen. There is just the matter of the leaked information, we are currently performing a formal investigation into this.”

“Are you?”

He raised an eyebrow at me. I’d worked with MI6 before, I’ve never liked them, I only ever agreed because of Anna. One thing I can say for certain about them is that they always have an agenda, one they’re not often forthcoming about. “Of course, is there an implication there?”

Cap spoke up then. “Not at all, it’s just that given that Tara Janssen accused MI6 of leaking the information the matter is complicated.”

“Well since a criminal said it, I suppose we just take her word?” Abbott retorted.

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow at him. “You plan to conduct an internal investigation into your organization when no one knows who exactly the mole is?”

“This is standard procedure. MI6 is highly confidential about our intel, bringing outside entities in is risky enough in the field, we don’t intend to contract outside the organization for such delicate matters.”

“Oh yes, because all delicate matters have been handled so well by MI6 up until now?”

“I don’t appreciate your attitude, Agent Pimenova, and we are not entirely convinced that it is one of our agents who is at fault.”

A humorless laugh fell from my lips before I could stop it. “So, who do you think is at fault?” Natasha questioned, giving me a look that urged me not to bite back.

“Well, it’s not a black and white matter, however, we intend to investigate all individuals who took part in this operation.” He glanced at Pietro briefly as he spoke.

“Are you joking?”

His gaze was firm as he turned it on me once more. “Does this really surprise you? Mr. Maximoff is a new hire who was intensely involved from the beginning, he had access to all intel and knew the ins and outs of the operation. Not only this, correct me if I’m wrong, but it was not so long ago that he and his sister were antagonists to the Avengers.”

I felt that familiar white hot rage simmering through my veins and I clenched my hands into fists at my sides to anchor myself attempting to subdue the anger. “Pietro is an Avenger and he had nothing to do with this so you can cross him off of your suspect list. Someone on your team nearly got us killed, if I were you, I’d spend less time throwing around bullshit accusations and more investigating the people you work with. It’s not exactly auspicious for an intelligence agency to have a link so weak its handing your confidential intel to criminal organizations on a silver platter.” My tone was glacial at best, Abbott opened his mouth to continue. “I can’t imagine what else you have to say on the matter, Director.”

Cap put his hands up. “Alright, I don’t think there’s anything further, Director Abbott.” The man glanced at Steve with a pleased expression that promptly dissipated after the former spoke again. “Obviously we would require the investigation to be a combined effort between our resources and the MI6 institution to ensure an unbiased approach. Agent Maria Hill has said she’d be more than happy to assist in the matter.”

I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow at the short man who was barely managing to contain his glower. “Very well then, we will be in touch in the coming weeks.”

Steve turned to me before he left the room. “I’m glad you’re okay, kid but you have got to stop almost dying.”

I smiled sheepishly, saluting him as he exited the conference room, flanked by Natasha who offered me a knowing look with a devious smirk attached. I glanced back at Pietro who leaned against the round table, a boyish smile painted across his expression. “What now?” I spoke, feigning annoyance, his smile only grew.

“I like it when you defend me.”

The tension between us was palpable, the air in the room thick with it. I narrowed my eyes at Pietro. “I wasn’t really defending you; I just like pissing Abbott off.”

“Whatever you say, Prinţesă.” His sweet smile had evolved into that smirk I knew all too well.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “It’s funny, I seem to remember telling you not to call me that.” A smile tugged at my lips, but I fought hard to keep it down.

“Hm, I don’t remember that. Perhaps, it was back when you were pretending not to like it.”

I turned from him, walking toward the door before glancing back at him over my shoulder, a taunting lilt in my tone. “Who says I was pretending?” I didn’t manage to make it out the door before Pietro grabbed my wrist and spun me back to face him.  

“You have a lying problem.” He murmured; voice deeper than it was a moment ago. Before I could respond his lips were on mine. This kiss was different to the others, passionate in the same way but more fervent, hungrier. My back hit the now closed door firmly, arms winding around Pietro’s neck to bring him closer. The discomfort of being touched was the furthest thing from my mind as he kissed me. There was no room for thoughts that didn’t revolve around the way his lips felt. A warm feeling pooled low in my stomach, it was sweet like honey and caused a flush to travel up my neck, coating my ears pink and making my flesh burn. I tugged Pietro’s hair with one hand, the other gripping his shoulder and pulling him closer. His hands travelled from my cheeks, down my arms, landing on my hips and pushing me further against the door. One of his hands drifted to my thigh, tugging it to sit around his hip; a niggling anxious feeling wormed its way through me at the contact, my heart beginning to beat faster. I gripped his shoulder tighter, not realizing the way my body had tensed until Pietro pulled away to look at me. “Nadia?” I shook my head, taking a deep breath and attempting to move past the discomfort when Pietro’s hand slipped higher on my hip, his thumb putting pressure unwittingly on the recently sutured flesh. I gasped in pain and Pietro’s touch was gone in an instant, he pulled away as if he’d been burned. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think…”

“It’s okay.” I reassured breathily, swallowing the pain, my hand going to cover the now throbbing stab wound. His face paled, eyes falling to my hip. I followed his line of sight, a small crimson patch beginning to soak into my shirt. “Let’s just go to the medical wing and patch it up, it’ll be fine.” He didn’t speak a word to me as we walked, remaining a few paces away from me the entire time. I slipped onto the examination table and began lifting my shirt over my head, wincing slightly at the pain in my abdomen as I lifted my arms, in a millisecond Pietro was before me, helping me to pull the fabric from my body, careful not to touch me. I was left in just my bra before him, the stitches were fine, just irritated. I cleaned them quickly before grabbing the bandage and roll of gauze and beginning to cover them. “See, all better.” There was silence in the room, but I could feel Pietro’s eyes burning into me prompting me to glance up. He was gazing at my abdomen, at the bruises that were still prominent, the wound I’d just covered and the two scars that lived on opposite sides of the flesh. He took a step toward me then. “It’s okay, Pietro.”

“No, it’s not, I made you bleed, Nadia.”

“Well, you’re not exactly the first person.” I teased. His face remained sullen, no hint of amusement. “Okay enough with the face, it was an accident, you can put the hair shirt away.”

He shook his head, jaw clenching. “It’s not just that, you were uncomfortable when I was touching you, I went too far.”

“You didn’t go too far… I- it was just fast, I can’t go that fast, not with that stuff.” I was murmuring by the end of my sentence. He just kept staring at the bruised flesh. “I’m really okay, the bruises don’t hurt that much anymore, and Tara has terrible aim so she didn’t get anything important.”

He remained silent for a long while. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t even really know what was going through his mind, but then he opened his mouth, and his words weren’t at all what I’d been expecting. “That is from Ultron.” He pointed at one of the two scars before his finger moved to the other. “What is that one from?” I looked down at the marred flesh, closing my eyes for a moment. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

I let out a heavy exhale, looking back up at him. “It was a long time ago.”

Whether it was February or sometime in June I was no longer sure.

The air was glacial around me, and I was sure I was dying.

There was blood pooling in the fabric of my suit, sweat plastering hair to my forehead even with the harsh winter air that bit at me. Annika was beside me; she was holding my hand as the snow at my side turned red.

“Отдыхай сейчас, сестра.”

Rest now, sister.

Saint Petersburg, 4 hours earlier

I gripped the sides of the porcelain sink, watching the water run down the drain. There was gold trim on everything in this fucking hotel and I felt like I was losing my mind. Exhaustion had made a home in the cave of my bones; my body had come to feel like a prison. There was a thin papery feeling that clung to me, seeping into my skin, disembowelling me to make room for the full breadth of it. Nausea washed over me, and a blink had me seeing nothing but red. I’d barely slept, the strange visions were becoming more consistent and Dreykov had been pushing all of us extra hard lately. I supposed it was the result of Natasha and Oksana’s dissemination from the Red Room.

“Sweet Anya, is everything alright in there?” Ambassador Schulz called from the other side of the door. I splashed some water on my face, looking up at myself in the mirror.

“Of course, I’ll be right out, любимый.” (Darling)

I adjusted the short black wig on my head, tousling the fringe before smoothing my hands over the top of my strapless dress. When I opened the door, the Ambassador was stood at the bar cart, pouring two glasses of whiskey from an expensive looking decanter. He crossed the room and handed one of the crystal glasses to me. He was a balding middle-aged man who was almost foot shorted than me when I wore heels. He reeked of pungent cologne and cigars, and I hated him. The ambassador was a disgusting man who’d spent most of the evening attempting to slip his hand beneath the slit of my dress. I clinked my glass with his before letting the amber liquid him my upper lip but never pass it.

“You know, Anya, I’ve been to a lot of countries, but Russian women have always remained my favorite . Although, you may be the most gorgeous of them all.”

I smiled at him, placing the whiskey on the accent table behind me and popping my legs one by one to slip my heels off. “You flatter me.” His hand grazed over my collarbone, caressing me in a way that had my skin crawling. “Perhaps you should check the door is locked, we wouldn’t want anyone to interrupt us.” He double checked the golden handle of the door, ensuring that the lock was indeed in place as I closed the curtains. After he checked the door he walked over the record player in the corner, letting the needle dance across the vinyl, classical music filling the suite. I returned to the middle of the room and Schulz’s hands were on me once again. He pressed his lips to mine roughly, biting and licking at my mouth like a rabid dog. I suppressed my cringe and kissed him back, shutting my mind off from the reality of what was happening.

“Turn around, whore.” He demanded. I wasn’t frightened by his tone; men like him didn’t hold that power over me anymore. His knuckles grazed my bare back as he moved to unzip my dress. I slipped the push dagger from my garter before the fabric fell to my ankles. The blade cut into my hand as I concealed it as he grabbed my shoulders roughly and pushed me down onto the bed. I moved quickly, swinging my legs to kneel on the mattress, slipping the knife into the back of my black underwear before beckoning Schulz to join me I pulled the jacket part way down his shoulders, as he sat with his back to me. I left his blazer halfway down his arms moving to loosen his tie. I swallowed bile as he palmed at his crotch, grabbing a hold of my wrist and roughly pulling my hand between his legs. In a swift manoeuvre I pulled my hand from his grasp and wrapped my legs around him, one hand covering his mouth and the other grabbing the push dagger and dragging it across his throat.

“ Сладких снов, чувак .”

Sweet dreams, prick.

He thrashed against me, but I laid back and held tightly onto him, waiting for his to bleed out. I wasn’t sure exactly how long it had taken him to bleed out, it had felt to me like an eternity in but a moment. I shoved his limp body from me, his blood dripping from me as I stood pulling my suit from under the bed, it had been planted there for me whilst Schulz and I were at the opera together.

The clip of my belt almost covered the sound behind me, but I was far too adept after all of my cycles through the Red Room, there was no sneaking up on me anymore. I threw my arm backward, before I’d even looked, slicing through the air in the direction of the person who’d been behind me, they caught my arm before I could reach them, one of their gloved hands wrapping around the back of my neck and slamming my head against the table, knocking my glass onto the ground, whiskey splashing onto the marble as it shattered. I caught sight of the person in my peripheral, black mask covering all but his eyes and lips. He slammed my head against the table a second time, the turn of my head letting me see the gun holstered at his hip. I jammed the push dagger into the side of his thigh, pulling it out and stabbing him multiple times in the area, forcing him to release me as he groaned in pain. I ducked under the punch he threw, slipping beneath his arm and attacking him from behind and tackling him onto the ground and ripping the mask from him before grabbing onto his blonde hair and slamming his head against the marble tiles, red smearing across the floor when I lifted his head up again. He threw me off of him and grabbed a hold of my throat, straddling my waist as he choked me.

There was blood coating his lips and his nose was crooked to a painful angle. I pressed my thumbs into his eyes his move his head back out of my reach, grip tightening. He didn’t budge no matter how much I hit him and kicked. Eventually, I managed to get the gun from his belt holster, slamming the base into his head. His grip loosened but it took another hit to get him off guard enough to buck him off of me. I swung my legs around quickly, bringing myself into a crouched defensive position, it was then that I clocked the octopus skull tattoo on his neck. I didn’t know what it meant but I’d seen it before, these agents had tried to steal marks from us before, they would kill widows and take the credit for our hits. I swiped his feet out from under him, restraining him and punching again and again, he managed to get a hold of my wig, but it slipped from my head, light strands falling in front of my eyes. I punched him again stopping only when I felt the sharp pain in my side, glancing down to see the agent jamming a large shard from the whiskey glass into my abdomen. Blood poured onto his hand, he grabbed my actual hair this time, rolling over and pressing the side of my head into the marble floor. I steeled myself against the burning pain in my side reaching out for the gun his gun that I’d dropped before, shooting him in the leg without a second thought. He cried out, gripping the wound on this thigh. I kicked him in the chest, attempting to crawl away but he was quick to grab my ankle and drag me back to him. Whoever the hell this guy was he was extremely well trained and evidently wanted me dead. He swiped my push dagger from the floor, swinging at my chest with it but I blocked his attack and used my free arm to twist his wrist before slamming my blocking arm against his once more. The dagger was still clutched in his fist as it impaled the under side of hit jaw, blood pouring from his mouth as I forced his to twist the blade, crying out in agony and exhaustion as I pushed harder, letting his lifeless body fall beside me. My cheeks were wet as I stumbled to the window, double tapping my comm to turn it on as I sat on the sill.

“Задание выполнено.”

Mission complete.

A long black rope descended from the roof then, a silver hook gleaming at the bottom of it. I clipped it onto my belt, sliding from the window and scaling down the building into the snow-covered street.

“Clean up required in room 103.” I muttered into the comm, pulling twice on the rope to signal I was off. The world was blurring around me as I stumbled into the open space behind the hotel. Blood covered my hand as I went, falling to my knees on the rough gravel path that was quickly being swallowed by snow.

I slipped the shirt back over my head with Pietro’s help. “He was Hydra, that agent, I didn’t really know what that meant back then though.”

“No wonder you don’t like being touched.” He had been completely silent for the entirety of my story, there were times when I wasn’t even sure he was breathing. I sighed, nodding gently as I watched the shadows that danced in his eyes.

I reached out for his hand, glancing up at him as my fingers wrapped around his wrist, using the grip to pull him closer. “This is different.” My hand smoothed over his knuckles and I laced my fingers through his, bringing his hand to my cheek. “I want you to touch me, Pietro.”

He exhaled deeply, letting his eyes close as his head canted forward. “Don’t say things like that, Nadia.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t understand the effect it has on me.”

I leaned closer to him. “So, make me understand.” His fingertips dug ever so slightly into my shoulder, brows furrowing, eyes still closed. His free hand landed on my other shoulder, gliding down to hold mine, bringing it to sit over his heart. The quick thuds matched my own beat for beat. I felt his breath ghost over my cheek as he leaned his forehead against mine.

The look he gave me was tender, gentle. “We can go slow. Whatever you want.”

Chapter Text

I cringed as I watched Pietro cram a forkful of eggs and bacon into his mouth before taking a large bite of his toast. “What?” He spoke as he chewed. I grimaced and looked down at my own plate.

“You are truly vile.”

He grinned. “You like it. Besides, I’m a growing boy I need my nutrients.” He gulped down his juice before continuing to scoff his breakfast. He pointed at my plate with his fork. “Are you going to eat that?”

I pulled the plate toward myself, narrowing my eyes at him. “Yes.” Although, my stomach was filled to the brim and another mouthful would surely make me sick. The wounded expression on his face had me rolling my eyes at him, yet I slid the plate across the table nonetheless.  

“Hey, I have a question.” I sighed exasperatedly at his words, but he chose to ignore my antics. “Why do you like the city so much?”

I shrugged, considering his question. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just the first place where I felt really free.” It was nonchalant, the way I spoke to him then. It struck me as a little funny how easily that came from me now when not that long ago the thought of exchanging more than a few necessary words with him had me running for the hills.

He nodded, evidently pondering my words. “That makes sense, I guess I just don’t really have somewhere like that. Sokovia is where my parents died and there was always so much conflict there, then there was Strucker and his compound. When Wanda and I joined the Avengers, we came straight here and I suppose this place is that for me, but I never really saw a lot of the city.”

I swallowed heavily, looking down at my mostly empty plate. “It’s really not that good, it smells strange, and most people hate the light pollution.”

“You don’t have to feel bad for me.” He spoke up, putting an end to my rambling.

“I don’t.”

He smiled at me. “Okay.”

I could feel his eyes on me from my peripheral, but I refused to glance at him, the stubborn pride that lived within me begging me to continue the charade of indifference. Yet Pietro was a worthy opponent, never seeming willing to let me get away with it, completely unfazed by my tricks. Finally, my eyes met his, reluctantly. His smile only grew. “What?”

“Nothing.”

The awareness I had of my heart then annoyed me. “I don’t feel bad for you.”

“You said that.”

That damn smile, constantly lingering, a little cheeky, and always charming. “Good, then you know.” He hummed, leaning back in his seat after clearing both our plates. “I don’t know why you are looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“You know what.”

He shook his head, smile never even faltering. “I don’t think I do, Nadia.”

“Oh, for fucks sake! I don’t like that you don’t have a place, and I don’t like that those things happened to you. Alright, happy now?!”

“You don’t like that what things happened to me?”

“Jesus, do I have to spell it out for you?” He nodded eagerly. “I don’t like that bad things happened to you.”

There was silence between us for a long while then. I looked at my lap, my cheeks burned. My heartbeat filled was ears, thrumming against my sternum. I had to admit, telling him the truth got a little easier each time I did it but that didn’t make it completely painless. “For what it's worth… I don’t like that bad things happened to you either.”

My eyes met his again and just like that, his smile was back. Try as I might to fight it the corners of my mouth tugged upward in kind.

…

His flesh glistened under the low lights as he pulled his shirt over his head, using it to wipe the sweat from his forehead. I swallowed heavily, drinking a little faster from my bottle. Returning to the mat with him, I gestured for him to approach. The corners of his lips were upturned as he looked me up and down, taking a few steps further onto the mat.

“Go on then, Prinţesă, what’s your next move?”

I smiled at him. “Funny I was going to ask you the same question.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “How about you lead for once, Pietro.” His smile turned menacing, and he took another slow step toward me.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He moved quickly, just the way I’d taught him, striking with precision. I dodged easily, almost laughing in his face at his predictability until he swerved at the last minute and moved the opposite way he had been, dodging my impending attack and grabbing around my waist and taking me to the ground on my back. He took my wrists in each of his hands restraining them above my head with a shit-eating grin wide across his face. I narrowed my eyes at him. “So, you are capable of strategizing?”

Pietro chuckled, low and utterly taunting. “You have an awful lot of attitude for someone who’s on their back.” I shot him a venomous glare.

“Oh, don’t worry it won’t be that way for long.”

My words only seemed to both entertain and entice him as his grin grew in size, revealing his teeth to me. The look faltered for a moment as he glanced down toward my hip. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” One of his hands drifted down my arm to sit beside my hip on the mat, fiddling with the side of my shirt.

I shook my head at him. “I’m fine. Dr. Cho used her weird magic medicine and it’s almost completely healed. She said she doesn’t even think it’s going to scar.” When he still seemed unconvinced, I brought my now freed hand down to lift the side of my shirt and reveal the now only slightly marred flesh. “See all better.” Still, he scanned the place where the wound had been. With some hesitation, I let my hand find his cheek, bringing his face back up so he'd meet my eyes again. “You didn’t hurt me, I promise.”

His nose grazed mine as he leaned forward slightly, his breath dancing across my cheek making my eyes flutter for a moment. My lips upturned just slightly as I leaned upward into him, grazing my lips over his for a split second before locking my legs around him and using my free hand to cross his chest and flip us so he was on his back. Before he could regain the upper hand, I moved my legs to restrain him and held his wrists above his head just like he’d done to me. His look of indignation had me biting back a laugh. “That was completely unfair!”

“How many times have I told you to focus?”

He raised both eyebrows at me, I knew him well enough to know the look he was giving me meant trouble. “Well, that’s a lot to ask of me right now, you know how I feel about you in this position, Prinţesă.” I rolled my eyes at him, leaning down and letting my eyes drop to his lips ever so slowly. He strained his neck to reach me, but I pulled back just a little when he got close. “Really?”

“You’re not getting what you want until you show me you can stay focused.”

“Oh, as if you weren’t just undressing me with your eyes!”

My gaze narrowed at his words, and I scoffed at him. “Are you actually delusional?”

He smirked. “We both know I’m not. You say I don’t know how to focus but when it comes to you, I seem to manage just fine.” He licked his lips, I scolded myself for letting my eyes track the movement. His lips twitched upward, and he bucked me off of him before enveloping me in a blur of blue. “Looks like I’m not the only one struggling to focus on the task at hand.”

“You’re a prick, you know that?”

“You tell me quite often, but I have a sneaky suspicion that you like it. That’s why I best you so often.”

The gasp I let out was equal parts disbelief and indignation. “Now I’m sure of it, you really have lost your mind. In what world do you ever beat me?”

He only smiled at me. “I got you to admit you were obsessed with me.” I opened my mouth to protest, with some choice words however he beat me to it. “In fact, I have a wager for you, call it a friendly competition.”

“Pray tell?”

“I’m not going to kiss you again until you admit that I distract you just as much as you distract me. You admit that I’m not delusional and these lips are all yours.”

A hearty laugh tumbled from me. “You’re challenging me to a test of self-control? You do realize who you’re talking to right?” He grinned down at me. “What do I get when I win?”

“My undying affections?” I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Fine, I’ll admit that you were right.”

“You’re never going to win this.” He shrugged, toothy grin never faltering. I sighed exasperatedly. “Deal.”

His lips were on mine then, it was passionate and had my body melting into a puddle of mush. The way he kissed was hard to describe at the best of times, it was fervent, borderline sacred, and hungry in equal measure. I was left breathless when he pulled back, hovering barely an inch from me. My eyes remained closed. “See I’m already winning, Nadia, look at you, letting me distract you so easily.” My eyes shot open, a glare immediately taking over my expression. My ire only amused him further. He bumped his nose with mine. “I hope you enjoyed that because there won’t be any more for a while, not until you give in, at least.” He held my wrists in one hand, his other moved over my hip. I winced hard, shutting my eyes tightly as I released a cry of agony. He let go of my hip instantly, freeing my hands and sitting up in one swift movement. “Are you okay? What happened?” I flipped up before he could even contemplate what was happening, forcing him onto the mat on his stomach and sitting on his back this time around.

I put a hand by his head, leaning down to look into his beautiful blue eyes, his face squished into the mat. “Remind me who is winning again?” I raised my eyebrow, a grin spreading across my lips.

“You deceitful minx!”

In all honesty, I’d expected Pietro to break before dinnertime, yet surprisingly he had remained steadfast in his endeavor. He’d sat across from me at dinner, sending me cheeky glances from across the table but showing no sign of giving in or even struggling.

This pattern continued for days, four to be specific, and I was becoming antsy. How the hell was he so calm and collected? It’s Pietro for god’s sake, there is no way he could pull this off; was there?

I was becoming less sure as the days passed and my anger was growing insurmountable as I felt the magnetism between us begin to itch.

On the fifth night, I sat beside Natasha at the table, humming around a bite of pizza that was especially cheesy and delicious. I watched Pietro’s jaw tense at the sound, prompting me to do it again. He met my gaze, his eyes narrowed but an unreadable expression sat across his face. Wanda was off somewhere with Vision and Sam was sleeping off his last mission. It was only Steve, Pietro, Natasha, and I at the table now. Cap spoke casually to Pietro about something whilst Nat described the dress, she was planning on wearing for the benefit we were invited to that would take place in a couple of weeks.

“I think the plunging neckline is important, color wise I’m thinking classic black is the only choice and…” I licked my lips slowly using a single finger to wipe over the area before bringing it to my mouth, all whilst looking directly at Pietro. “Are you even listening to me?” Natasha asked. Pietro stood from the table abruptly, going to place his plate on the sink and leaving the room. I smiled to myself.

“Yes of course. Black dress, plunging neckline.” I shoved the rest of my pizza slice in my mouth and smiled at her.

Natasha raised her eyebrows at me. “What are you planning on wearing, Pimenova?”

I shrugged. “Well for starters I wasn’t planning on going.”

“Okay, great so you will in fact be going. I’ll send you a couple of dress ideas tonight and you can always have a better look this weekend.”

Cap cleared his plate before wishing us both goodnights. We returned it and I asked Natasha what she was talking about.

“Oh, you know, this weekend on your date weekend with Pietro.”

My eyes narrowed at her accusatory tone. “First of all, how did you even know about that, second it is not a ‘date’ weekend.”

She smirked at me. “I saw your little list of spots on the table this morning. No need to be so defensive I think it's sweet what you’re doing for him, he will too.”

“I’m not doing anything for him… I just feel like… he doesn’t have a place, Natasha. We always had New York and maybe it won’t be the same for him, but he deserves something. An option at the very least.”

The smug expression on her face shifted then, smoothing into something that held much more weight. Something soft and immensely meaningful. Her lips were upturned as she spoke again. “I think he already has more than you realize.”

I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that, but I chose not to push, we finished our food in comfortable silence after that.

The soft sound of a Queen song filled my ears as I wandered into the lab with a plate of reheated pizza grasped between my hands. Tony was hunched over the bench with a screwdriver in hand. “You know for someone who said he was going to take some time off you certainly spend a lot of time tinkering around here,” I spoke up, sitting the pizza beside him. He glanced up, raising an eyebrow at me.

“This is me relaxing, kid.”

“How does Pepper feel about that?” He grumbled out an answer, not glancing up at me as he continued to do… whatever it was he was doing. I glanced at the door, considering leaving despite his glum mood, what could I say to him? Would he even want to open up if I asked him to, did I want him to? I’d always maintained a distance between us, never comfortable enough to let too many people get close but as I watched Tony, shoulders tense, ignoring the food, leaving didn’t feel much like an option. So, I sat, facing him on the opposite side of the bench. “Is everything okay?”

“Peachy.”

I swallowed, twiddling my thumbs. “We don’t have to talk but you should probably eat.”

He glanced up at me through his lashes. “What is going on right now? You never want to talk, but now all of a sudden you do.”

“You seem like you could use someone to talk to and I’m trying something new. The easiest way to get me to leave you alone is just to spill, you know I’m not one to give up easily.”

Tony huffed, shaking his head and finally looking up at me. “Pepper wants to talk about things that I don’t. It’s irritating and I just needed some time.” I breathed a laugh at that. “What?”

“It’s just… I know how you feel.”

The corners of his lips upturned so slightly it was almost imperceptible. “Yeah, I guess you probably do.”

“So instead of talking to Pepper about these mysterious things you don’t want to disclose you’re here, hiding out in the lab.”

“Well, when you say it like that it sounds a little pathetic.”

I smiled at him. “More than a little.”

“I don’t think you can exactly talk, Pimenova, you’re not someone I’d describe as being particularly communicative.”

A laugh tumbled from my lips, and I leaned back in my chair; I couldn’t argue there. “Why don’t you want to talk to about whatever it is with her?”

“It’s complicated.”

I glanced around. “Well luckily for you I have nothing but time.”

Tony did nothing to hide his disdain at my words, huffing and puffing like a petulant child. I found it all rather amusing. “I left the comfort of my home to come be around you idiots to avoid talking about it, what makes you think I’m antsy to spill my guts now?”

“Spare me, as if you don’t miss us terribly whenever you leave.” I teased. “And I’m not saying you have to tell me what it is just why it’s you’d rather flee than talk about whatever it is. It’s not as though I’m going to judge you, I wouldn’t exactly have a leg to stand on.”

“You really don’t have a leg to stand on as it is. You don’t answer questions but you’re happy to ask them?”

I closed my eyes for a moment glancing away to survey the room, empty save for the range of strange tech surrounding us. “You wanted to know what Wanda showed me in the shipyard. I didn’t want to talk about it because it was painful, I’m guessing it’s the same for whatever it is that you’re avoiding.” He didn’t look at me. “You’re right though, it isn’t fair for me to expect you to share when I won’t, so consider this my answer. Wanda showed me a medley of some of the worst moments of my life and made me think I was living them all over again. She showed me the Red Room, my first kill then my most painful, and a whole lot of other moments that I’d been trying really hard to forget.”

He met my gaze then. The look he gave me then was not one that was common for him, yet I’d seen it before. That day when we’d first moved to the compound and I’d told him why I didn’t mind light pollution was at the forefront of my mind. Empathy, I supposed.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry; I’m telling you because I do understand that trust is a two-way street.”

He nodded. There was silence between us for a long while then. He’d put the tool in his hand down and he simply studied the piece of pizza that sat beside him, likely cold by now. “There was someone in my life… a long time ago. Someone who meant the world to me. She died, years ago now and the last thing I said to her… Well, it wasn’t exactly kind.” I remained quiet, listening intently to him. “There are not many days when it's not the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last thing before I go to sleep.” He took a rather large bite from the slice of pizza. I guessed he was referring to his mother, I remembered hearing something about his parents dying years ago after they’d had a fight. Irrespective of what his reasoning was, I knew what it was like to have something you’d done, something you regretted, haunt you. “You know, if you’d been gone much longer, I wouldn’t have made it through here. Pietro nearly sent me insane.”

He was evidently shifting the topic, but I let him. “What do you mean?”

“Kid was practically going out of his mind with worry from the second you left and then you went off comms and obviously we were all concerned but he pretty much had to be restrained from going to Morrocco after you, barely healed leg and all. Honestly, he was insufferable.” I looked at the ground, smiling a little at that information. “It was actually a little sweet also, I guess. Sickening, but almost cute.”

Before I left Tony to finish his tinkering, I glanced back at him from the doorway. “Take it from me, Stark, avoiding talking about something because it’s painful doesn’t actually make it hurt any less.”

…

The rain that had followed us for most of the trip from the compound cleared up as we entered the city.  Pietro hadn’t said a lot since I’d told him, he’d just stared at me in a way that made me exceptionally nervous. Even on the car ride, he’d spoken a few soft words here and there but otherwise he’d been mostly quiet. The second we stowed our luggage away in our adjoined rooms I’d smiled warmly at him and waved the list at him. “Well come on, we’d better get moving I’ve got a lot planned.” The smile he gave me made a tingling feeling dance across my spine.

Our first stop was the bakery near my old apartment, they had the best bagels in the city, the perfect cream cheese to bread ratio. We walked through the crowded streets and basked in the sunshine while we ate the warm delicacy. “I’ll admit it’s a lot better than I’d expected.”

“I told you.” He bumped his shoulder with mine as we walked. I led him toward the huge building having him stand across the street with his back to it. “Okay, now turn around and prepare to be just a little underwhelmed.” His eyes widened as he turned to face the MET in all its glory.

“Jesus, that’s big.”

I walked past him, beginning up the steps. “I know right and look how fucking dirty it is as if those rich girls were sitting on these steps to eat their lunch.” When I realized he wasn’t following, I turned back to see him watching me. “Don’t you want to go in?”

“No, I do, it’s just…” His lips turned upward, and his brows furrowed a little, it was as if his face was melting. The sun made his eyes glitter, making them even more mesmerizing than usual. He shook his head softly before meeting me on the stairs I’d stopped on, looking down at me for a moment. His chest almost grazed mine he was so close. “After you, dragă.” Darling.

“What does that mean?”

He leaned in close to me, his breath fanning over my lips, it had my eyes fluttering. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” With that he was off toward the entrance, leaving me dazed and utterly fed up with his stupid wager. We looked at art for a lot of the day, before taking back to the streets where we got a New York slice and spoke for hours.

“It’s strange because growing up, I didn’t really know who I was, or I guess there really wasn’t a me that existed outside of the Red Room. Being out meant having to become a person just like everyone else. I didn’t even know my favorite color before I got out, I was just a nonentity.”

“What’s your favorite color now?”

I shrugged, looking over at him. We’d stopped in Central Park a little while ago, laying back on the grass to watch as the sun set over the city and casted the streets in a pinkish orange hue. I smiled at how it looked at this time of day, everything the light had touched, transformed by the dwindling sun. “I think it’s this.” When I met his eyes again, they were set firmly on me.

“What is your favorite color, Pietro?”

A cheeky smile crossed his lips. “Blue.”

“Favorite food?”

“Plum dumplings.”

I had to bite my lip to stop the smile from taking over my expression. Rolling my eyes and hoping he couldn’t see the flush that has coated my cheeks. We continued like this, asking silly mostly inconsequential questions to each other, and there, on that patch of grass, there was a rare moment where I was completely at ease. I could feel his eyes on me then as I watched the birds hopping from branch to branch. A tilt of my head revealed him fully to me once more, still gazing at me intently, not even attempting to pretend that he wasn’t, unashamed at being caught. His lips were upturned, not a full smile, merely the suggestion of one. My smile brightened slightly as I stared back at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t answer right away, just kept watching me, eyes tracing over the flesh of my cheeks and nose. “No one has ever done something like this for me before.”

I smiled softly at him. “What no one’s ever taken you to a smog-covered, rat-run city to eat a bready doughnut thing with cheese in it?”

He chuckled light-heartedly before becoming earnest once more. “Seriously, Nadia, this means a lot to me.” He kept his voice a little hushed, loud enough only for me to hear as if the words shared in the small space between us were sacred, something that was reserved solely for us.

“Natasha and I used to talk about New York when we were younger, I suppose it was our dream. This intangible place where everything would be okay.” His knuckles grazed my own. I felt a little silly when my heart picked up, I’ve literally killed people how could the slightest touch from him have my pulse fluttering? Holding my breath for a moment I extended my fingers slightly, bumping his. He had touched my hand before, but this felt different. We both turned back toward the sky as I let my hand upturn beside his. A warm weight filled my palm then and I exhaled the breath I’d been holding.

Nonna Maria’s was next on the list, the obvious dinner choice, really the only acceptable choice. There was a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach as we passed the threshold of the restaurant. I got take-out here my first night in New York, Natasha and I had spent many days gorging ourselves on the freshly baked bread and delicious pastas and somewhere in all of that I’d found myself becoming strangely attached to this little family-run business. An intangible nervousness took over my as we were seated, perhaps it was just that this place was the first thing that had felt like mine since I left Russia, and now I was sharing it with Pietro. “Nadia, my sweet Nadia!” Maria called as she approached our table. “Please, tell me you’ve come back to the city, my dearest.”

“Just visiting, unfortunately, but I brought you a new person to overfeed.” I teased. Maria tsked and waved her hand at me before turning to Pietro.

She gasped and placed a hand to her heart. “Such a handsome young man, you know I have been praying for this. Praying for my Nadia to find love!”

“Okay, settle down, this is my friend Pietro.” I introduced, intervening before she got any more carried away.

“Oh of course he is.” She gave me a knowing look. “You children with your strange language, I will never understand it. Let me get you some more bread, it fixes everything you know.”

I laughed as she left, sipping on my glass of wine. “Is that what we are, Nadia?” I raised an eyebrow at Pietro’s words. “Friends?” He added, a little smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s just I’m getting the strangest sense of déjà vu.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

He sent me a boyish smile. “Well, friends don’t generally kiss.”

“When was the last time we kissed?” My tone was taunting, challenging him with every syllable. His eyes narrowed slightly, smirk only growing.

“If you want me to kiss you, Nadia, you need only say the magic words.”

The look I gave him was downright devious. “Why’s that? You’re not struggling, are you? Because I’m more than happy to call it a fair game, after you admit I was right of course.”

He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, downing his drink, and leaning forward over the table toward me. His knee brushed against mine. “Oh, I’m doing just fine, Prinţesă.” My eyes darted down for just a moment. “All you have to do is tell me exactly how right I am, and I’ll kiss you anywhere you want.”

A flush travelled up my neck, a shiver not far behind. I was a connoisseur of self-control, adept at keeping myself in check, at not giving in. That was how I was trained, plus my healthy dose of innate stubbornness tended to help. Yet now, in the face of Pietro, I felt myself folding, control crumbling, leash waning. He was in control now and he knew it. That wouldn’t fly with me. I left a sultry smile cross my face as I leaned forward in my seat, flipping my hair over my shoulder and using my arms to accentuate my decolletage. My foot slid across the space between us, situating itself between his feet. I dragged the tip of it up the inside of his leg, watching his hands clench into fists as the muscle in his jaw feathered. When his eyes met mine, they were a much darker shade of blue, a dangerous glint in them. He attempted to grab my foot when it ventured to his thigh, but I yanked it back before he had the chance, standing and slipping my coat back on. My hand fell over his shoulder, and I leaned down so we were at eye level, moving closer until I was sure he would feel my breath on his ear. “Don’t hurt yourself for the sake of making a point, Pietro.”

“I know that you think you’re very clever-” I heard Pietro’s voice call as we stepped outside, frustration palpable in his tone. “But your little seduction routine isn’t going to work on me.”

“Oh? Are you sure?” I took a step toward him. “Because I have the strangest feeling it’s already working?” My eyes trailed down to his hand that was situated over my hip. He yanked it away as if I’d burned him, pointing at me accusingly.

His glare had plenty of heat but no real anger behind it. “I’m not going to give up so easily, you know this right?”

“I spent most of my life training to break people down, you know this right?” I began walking down the street, basking in the nippy autumn air.

“I don’t want to be just your friend. That’s what I told you before you went to Morrocco; I meant it.”

His words stopped me in my tracks and when I turned back to look at him the streetlights and starlight bathed him in this magical way that managed to wipe all the thoughts from my mind. “I know,” I murmured.

“So… maybe we should talk about it.”

“You want to talk about it now?”

He shrugged. “There’s no time like the present.”

I bit my lip, laughing a little to myself. “Do you want to be my boyfriend, Pietro?” I teased.

His response had me stiffening in my spot, heart skipping, eyes fluttering. “Yes, very much so.” There was no amusement or taunting lilts in his words, it was deadpan; absolute. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water. “Do you want to be my girlfriend, Nadia?”

I’d never had a boyfriend before. There had been boys, they never lasted more than a night where I told myself maybe I’d feel better if I just forced myself to be normal. There had never been mornings that followed. My heart was racing, and I felt a little lightheaded. Pietro stayed put, quiet but steadfast. He didn’t rush me or flee, he laid himself bare before me and waited, patiently, for me to respond. Part of me wanted to roll my eyes, boyfriend, girlfriend, how tedious. Though, really, I knew that was just because if I was dismissive maybe it wouldn’t feel so exposed. “I’m not sure I’d be a very good girlfriend.”

His eyes softened at me. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

He took a few steps forward, leaving a big enough gap that he wasn’t crowding me, but I could still feel his body heat radiating onto me. “Well, saying yes is a good place to start.”

 “Ask me again.”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

I smiled at him. “That depends.”

His lips curved up into that familiar smirk. “What does it depend on?”

“Will you kiss me if I’m your girlfriend?”

“How about this, you answer my question first then I’ll answer yours.”

I considered him. I could keep prodding, be stubborn, and have it my way, but then Pietro was standing before me, and the stars were in his eyes as he left the ball roll delicately into my court. He’d challenged me from the start and yet he’d always given me time, slowed down when I told him to, clearly laid my options before me, and let me choose for myself. It terrified me how much I didn’t want to run away from him, from his softness, from his adoring patience. So, despite myself, I didn’t roll my eyes or feign indifference, I gave, ever so slightly.

I took a step toward him. “The answer is yes.”

The words had barely left my lips before he was kissing me breathless. His forehead rested against mine; his eyes still closed. After almost a week of his ridiculous wager, I’d been ready to crack myself, but I didn’t need to tell him that because somehow, he’d known me from the moment we laid eyes on each other.

“You win, Nadia.”

Chapter Text

The sound of running water filled my ears before I turned off the bathroom tap, drying my hands and face. When I put the towel down Pietro was leaning against the doorframe signature smirk across his lips.

“What?”

He shook his head, pushing off the wall to approach me. His hands braced on the counter, and he pulled us both forward so that I was pressed between him and the vanity. I could feel his breath on the side of my face as he leaned down toward me. He pressed a kiss to my cheekbone before turning my face by the chin to look at him. “This is all I can think about.” Before I could respond he was planting a scorching kiss against my lips, pressing me more firmly to the bench. The warmth that was always emanating from his body pressed into my back through the fabric of our clothes as he kissed down my neck, nipping at my shoulder. I leaned my head to the side giving him better access. Pietro’s hands squeezed my hips, one moving to the front to fiddle with the hemline of my t-shirt. My heart was racing as his hand slipped beneath the fabric, smoothing across my stomach and up my ribs to rest just below my bra. “Is this what you want?” He murmured against my ear as I threw my head back. “You want me to touch you?” I felt incapable of words then. Pietro turned me to face him swiftly before lifting me and slipping me onto the bench behind us, his body pressed to mine as he stood between my legs. “Tell me what you want, Prinţesă.” In a moment of confidence, I lifted my shirt over my head, tossing it across the room and grabbing his hand to place it over my heart that was thrumming in my chest. He moved impossibly closer, his hand sliding to cup my breast over my bra, his lips were on me again almost instantly, trailing wet kisses down my collarbone and sternum.

“I want- I want…” He spread my legs, falling to his knees between them and that was when I woke up, launching upright in bed and clenching the duvet to my chest. “What the fuck?” I muttered to myself running a hand through my hair. I could not believe I had just dreamed that I must have been going insane. Try as I might it seemed impossible to part with the images that had invaded my slumber, a cold shower didn’t even do the trick.

I resolved that perhaps a run was in order to clear my head. Dressed and prepared to head off, I yanked the door to my room open rushing swiftly into the hall only to walk directly into someone. The collision almost had me stumbling but two warm hands holding my upper arms righted me. Pietro smiled sweetly at me and apparently that was enough to set my heart racing. “Good morning, Nadia, wherever are you off to in such a rush?” I swallowed hard as I looked at him, his hair was damp as though he’d just gotten out of the shower, he wore a blue and white crewneck sweatshirt, and it was enough to make me lightheaded. I was irritated, to say the least at my body’s ridiculous reaction to him.

“I… was going to go for a run.” It was quiet and didn’t sound anything like me. He furrowed his eyebrows a little.

“Is everything alright?” I nodded quickly, side-stepping him with a clenched jaw. The soft look in his eyes was too much to bear right now. “Liar.” He snickered, following closely behind me. “What’s wrong?”

I shrugged, not looking back at him but apparently that wouldn’t fly with him. He took ahold of my wrist gently, spinning me to face him and taking a step closer. I sighed exasperatedly. “Nothing’s wrong, really, I’m just tired.” I managed a little smile to appease him, though it came easier than I’d expected. It faltered, however, when he moved ever closer. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, the corner of his lips upturned in the whisper of an earnest smile. He leaned down and kissed me softly, just once before pulling away. I leaned up, chasing his lips with my own and kissing him again.

“So, I’m assuming we’re still on the same page about the boyfriend, girlfriend thing?” My smile returned, brighter now as I nodded at him. “Good, glad we cleared that up.” His lips were on mine once again and I breathed a laugh against them. “You’re going for a run?”

I said yes.

He hummed. “Okay, I’ll come with you.” I tensed slightly, images of him pressed against me flickered through my mind. “… Or I don’t have to if you don’t want?”

God why was he so fucking considerate?!

“No, I do want you to!” I almost cringed at my words. Pietro raised an eyebrow at me. “I do want you to come with me.”

“You’re being very strange.” He hadn’t let up on me. From the door of my bedroom and the duration of our run he’d pestered me, encouraging me to tell him what was bothering me. “Please, draga mea.” My darling. I only ran faster. A streak whirled past me before stopping in my path. Pietro crossed his arms over his chest, watching me expectantly. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Tell me what’s going on.” He spoke firmly.

My hands fell over my hips, and I narrowed my eyes at the man before me. “I told you nothing is going on.”

That little smart-ass smirk made a home on his lips, and he took a step closer to me. “And I think you’re full of shit, so let’s try it again.”

“Or what?” I bit back. “What will you do?”

My sass had his smirk doubling in size, his eyes narrowing for a moment, before flickering down to my hands that remained settled on my hips. He crossed the space between us, stopping right in front of me. “What would you like me to do, Prinţesă?”

The moment he spoke that word my heart skipped, mind unable to stop thinking about his lips all over me. I dug my fingers into my sides, attempting to steel myself.

“You’re pissing me off.”

“Par for the course at this point, and you’re the one who wanted to be my girlfriend so...” He shrugged, eyes dipping to my lips momentarily. I couldn’t handle this proximity. There was the slightest sheen of sweat on his forehead and his hair had become tousled by the wind, falling a little messily around his eyes. “Tell me.” He urged yet again.

“Jesus Christ, Pietro! I just had a strange dream, alright?!”

He looked indescribably pleased with himself. “Okay.” He nodded. “Was it about me?” The tone he took was nothing if not teasing, an attempt to rile me up, lighten the tension but my brain seemed content to short-circuit the moment he’d spoken those words. My unwitting hesitation certainly did not go unnoticed by him and before I could defend myself, he was speaking again. “Oh my god, it absolutely was!” He was positively beaming at me then.

“No! No, it had nothing to do with you, idiot!”

“Was it dirty? What was I doing in the dream? Was I as handsome as I am in real life?” I groaned, pushing past him and picking up my pace again. “You’re going to have to run faster than that.” He appeared before me again, running backward so he could continue to taunt me. “Walk me through it, play-by-play, spare no detail. Was it the first time you’d dreamt of me? It must have been some dream for you to be acting so weird after.”

I shook my head, settling on ignoring him now. This only seemed to please him though, there was no winning here. He put his hands out to stop me once more. I rolled my eyes heavily, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m getting sick of this conversation very quickly.”

“Okay, okay, just one more question and I’ll drop it.”

“Fine! What?” I asked exasperatedly.

“What were we doing in your dream?”

His voice dropped as he spoke; I swallowed heavily feeling a little light-headed. This was not okay, I wasn’t about to let him have all the power so I shifted gears, letting my weight fall to one hip and closing the distance between us, moving to my tip toes so I could brush my lips over his. His breathing stuttered a little and I could feel his heart racing as my hand landed on his chest. “I could tell you. Or…” I placed one small peck on his lips, pulling back just a little to see his eyes closed, lips chasing mine. “I could show you.” His lips parted and his hands found my hips.

“Nadia.” He leaned forward to kiss me, but I pulled back out of reach, prompting his eyes to open. He furrowed his eyebrows at me. “What-”

“One more question and you’ll drop it, right? Isn’t that what you said?” A look of utter betrayal and indignation crossed his features then, but I was running off before he could utter anything else.

I was laughing the whole way back to the compound, ignoring the streak the shot passed me partway back. When I arrived, Pietro stood on the grass, waiting with his arms crossed. “That was not very nice.”

“Well, you were the one who wanted to be my boyfriend.” I taunted, feigning a pouty face at him as I walked by.

“Oh, I see, you think you’re very funny.”

I walked into the kitchen with Pietro hot on my tail. The smell of cinnamon and freshly baked goods overtook me the moment I stepped into the room. Vision stood behind the counter, a baking tray in his hands. “Good morning, Nadia and Pietro.” He placed the tray down to reveal cinnamon rolls as he poured frosting over. I furrowed my eyebrows watching the strange man intently. “Would you like to try one?” He offered, looking back up at me and placing one of the desserts on a plate which he inched toward me.

“These are insanely good, Vis,” Sam spoke from the table, throwing the last bite of his roll into his mouth. I hesitantly approached the counter, inspecting the food before picking it up. It smelled divine but the idea of eating something baked by the peculiar humanoid creature before me was a little off putting. Before I could take a bite Pietro leaned over me, demolishing half the roll in a single mouthful. I narrowed my eyes at him as he grinned back, licking the icing from his lips slowly.

“You are pushing it,” I warned the silver-haired man who merely snorted in response.

“Ah, young love.” Tony sighed entering the room and stealing a cinnamon roll from the tray.

I bit into mine soon after, shocked by the explosion of flavor on my tastebuds. “Jesus that’s good.” I stuffed the cinnamon roll into my mouth before Pietro could steal anymore. “Do you even eat; how do you know how to bake?”

“I have no need to consume nutrients in the way humans do, though, I can simulate the ‘eating’ action if it would make you more comfortable.” There was silence between us for a moment as I stared blankly at him, unmoving. “And I used the internet to learn the recipe for these.”

“Okay.”

I turned around stiffly, wandering over to the table where Natasha sat, Pietro heading off to pester his sister. Approximately the second I sat down Nat was laying out possible options for what I would wear to the gala.

“There’s a strip of boutiques about a 30-minute drive from here, we can head over later today to have a look.” I nodded, taking a sip of my juice. “Also, I invited Wanda,” Natasha spoke so quickly that her words almost jumbled into one. I choked on my drink, coughing violently, and taking another sip to ease the discomfort. The look I gave her would have had a lesser woman cowering, but she didn’t even flinch under my glower. “Oh, do not even act like that, Nadia. I know you too well to be fooled by this whole act, you don’t hate her and I’ve had enough of the division, the girls need to stick together.”

I rolled my eyes, letting my head fall back with an exasperated sigh. “Why must you force the high road on me so often.”

…

The dress I selected was crisp white satin, one shoulder, with a slit that rose up to the apex of my thigh. Natasha shoved a pair of matching elbow-length gloves into my hands and would not hear any protest on the matter. Wanda and I had exchanged barely a sentence with one another on the drive here, it was strange. I didn’t really know what to say to her, how does one begin the journey to the high road? She fiddled with a sage green slip still on a hanger as I took a seat on the plush round ottoman that sat by the fitting rooms. I had felt her glancing at me from time to time as we waited for Nat to finish trying on her pile of dresses.

“Full disclosure, I know about you and Pietro.” I looked over at her then. “He didn’t tell me; I just know him too well and I might have dug around in his head a little to confirm my suspicions. Anyway, the point is, I know that you don’t exactly like me, but I think you’re good for him and his happiness is the only thing that matters to me, so I just wanted to say I’m really happy you have each other.”

“Trust is not something that comes particularly easy to me, and we did not start on a very positive foot. I don’t dislike you, Wanda, but I also don’t trust you.”

She nodded a merciful look in her eyes. “I understand, and I don’t blame you.”

“But… I am willing to start anew. What is the expression? A clean slate?” Her eyes lit up at my words, the corners of her lips upturning. “I cannot promise that I will ever trust you,” I added. “But we can try to start over if that’s what you want.”

Her expression was soft, gratitude and relief shining in her eyes. “Hi, I’m Wanda.”

I almost laughed at the gesture. This was pretty ridiculous, and I could not help but think back to the day in the shipyard. The debilitatingly traumatic memories she’d forced me to relive, the feeling of the cold concrete against my palms as I begged to leave the mind prison, she’d locked me in. The thought made me hesitate, a voice in the back of my head screaming at me to turn my back and continue the cold shoulder routine. She’d proven she couldn’t be trusted, why should I give her another chance? However, despite that, despite my reservations and distrust I silenced the voice, swallowing heavily and meeting her eyes once more. “Nice to meet you, Wanda, I’m Nadia.”

“Oh my god, you guys have got to see this dress!” Natasha called from the fitting room.

Some of us elected to stay in the city for the gala, rather than travel from the compound on the night of the event. I had no strong opinion on either option as long as we got this night over quickly and as painlessly as possible. I’d attended these fundraisers before, the cause was good and completely not what I took issue with. The part that I loathed was being forced to schmooze with the New York elite as they pretended to care about the poor and disenfranchised. The whole thing felt disingenuous, and I’d rather steer clear of it altogether, but I would have no such luck. Unfortunately for me being a public figure came as a package deal with this whole Avenger thing. I’d managed to mostly avoid it until now.

I sighed exasperatedly as I sipped from the champagne that Natasha had poured for me whilst she did my hair. “Don’t be so dramatic, it’ll be nice to have a night out, and you love the city.” I met her eyes in the mirror before rolling mine heavily.

“Why are you so set on this?”

“Because I think it will be a nice change of pace for us all. A chance to let our hair down and have a moment of normalcy.”

“In other words, you’re doing this to avoid thinking about something else… someone else?”

She pulled my hair a little harder than necessary, causing me to scowl at her reflection. She didn’t even pretend to be innocent as she glanced up to meet my eyes for a split second. Her face pulled into an expression of distaste. “And I thought you didn’t understand people.”

The corners of my lips upturned, and I shrugged a little. “I don’t, I just know you.”

She shook her head, remaining quiet for a long while. I watched her as she continued pinning and fiddling with strands of my hair. “Fury said they got a ping off the quinjet. It gives a radius of where its last location was. It could be a lead.”

“But?”

“He left for a reason, Nads, I’m not sure going after him wouldn’t be purely selfish.” I nodded slowly, taking a beat to process her words. I didn’t really know what the solution was, what would make her happiest in the long term because part of me wanted to tell her to throw logic to the side and go after him but the other part of me agreed with what she was saying. Going to find him when he obviously wanted to be alone may not have been the best course of action, but in the same breath I didn’t want her to get stuck in time; unable to move forward because she was too caught up. “So maybe we just wait him out? Circle a date some time from now and if there’s still no word from him by then we go find him.” She placed a hand on my shoulder for a second, still looking down at my hair, but I knew she’d heard me. “I heard you and Wanda talking at the boutique.” She unraveled the strand of hair she’d been curling. “It was nice what you did, very unlike you, but nice.”

“You don’t think I’m nice?” A cheeky grin spread across my lips as I met her eye in the mirror.

She breathed a laugh. “Truthfully, I think that you’re a little sweetheart who likes people to think she’s heartless. That being said, clean slates aren’t really you’re thing.”

“No, they’re not.” I watched her as she began to pin strands of hair back into a curly updo. “Perhaps I’m going soft.” I teased.

“Or someone has proven to you that it is okay to be a little more open.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Okay, enough of the mushy, deep, and meaningful shit I beg it’s beginning to make me sick.”

“Yeah, definitely not getting soft.” She hummed gesturing that she was done with my hair. I checked her handy work in the mirror nodding approvingly at the hairstyle. “Jesus, you look good, it’s really very difficult to get ready around you when you look like that.”

“Oh, shut up, look at yourself, woman.” She glanced in the mirror nodding as if she saw my point and smoothing her hands down her black dress. I giggled at her antics, adjusting the buckle of my shoe and doing one final check of my outfit before approaching the door.

When the elevator doors opened the first thing I saw was the back of his head, silver hair neatly styled atop. The second my heels clicked against the ground he spun around to face me, stiffening almost instantly. My heart rate spiked as his eyes traveled down to my feet before dragging ever so slowly back up my form, before finally meeting my gaze, eyebrows raised, and lips parted. He looked like something out of a dream; literally. He was in a midnight blue tuxedo that fit him like a glove. I’d never seen him so dressed up before I realized. I liked it… a lot. Words did not come easily to me as I watched him approach at a glacial pace.

“I don’t think I should kiss you right now.”

“Why?” The word was out before I could stop it, breathy and quiet.

His lips upturned at my tone, though that glint remained present in his eyes. “Because if I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

I couldn’t bite back the smile that was forming across my lips. My fingertips slid down his forearm, intertwining with his as I moved to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I like you’re suit.”

The drive to the venue consisted of both of us stealing glances at each other and smiling at our laps like school children. As much as I found it absurdly childish behavior – I couldn’t seem to stop. “So, what exactly is a gala?” He finally spoke up.

I rolled my eyes at the reminder. “It’s like a charity, fundraiser thing.”

“Is that not a good thing?” I shrugged at his words. “Why do you hate the idea so much.”

“In theory, yes, it’s a good thing. In practice, it’s an antiquated ceremony for the wealthy to talk about how good of people they are.” One side of his mouth lifted with amusement. “And besides, I hate most things, so it’s not exactly a high bar.”

“Not me though.” He teased, rolling his head on the headrest to face me. I raised an eyebrow at him. “You don’t hate me… you like me too much.” My eyes rolled again, though a little smile broke out across my lips.

The chandelier hung in the center of the room painted the walls in a yellow glow. Pietro scanned the quickly filling room as we entered, though he seemed more interested in the art that hung from the walls rather than the company. I turned to him then. “If I’m going to get through this, I’m going to need hard liquor.”

He laughed at my words. “I’m going to use the toilet; I want to know if it’s as fancy as the rest of this place.”

I shook my head, breathing a laugh as I split from his side and approached the bar. “Scotch on the rocks please.”

The bartender nodded, beginning to pour ice into a crystal glass.

“I just worry about the detriment to the city, isn’t giving the money just encouraging laziness that leads to homelessness in the first place.” I scanned the men who stood just a few paces from me. Balding, middle-aged, Rolex on their wrists.

I sighed heavily, turning back to the bartender. “Actually, could you make it a double?”

A breathy laugh filled my ears, prompting me to glance toward the man who’d just stepped up to the bar, placing his drink down beside me. “My sentiments exactly.” He added, beginning to fold up the long cane that was in his hands. I didn’t recognize the dark-haired man peering in my direction from dark red lenses. Well, likely not actually looking, I realized putting together the context clues. I chose to hum dismissively in place of an actual response. He smiled toward the ground, evidently not put off by my cold countenance. “Not a fan of these events I take it?”

“Oh, no, I love nothing more than listening to self-important old men speak.”

The man laughed again. “I’m guessing you’re Nadia?” I narrowed my eyes at him, leaning back a little in my seat and crossing my arms. “I know Tony Stark.” He clarified. “He told me to look out for you. Well, not look, but you know what I mean.”

The corners of my lips tugged upward just slightly, a very minuscule laugh falling from me. “Oh, so he warned you about me?”

“Not exactly, he might have mentioned you were something of a cynic.”

I rolled my eyes, thanking the bartender when he placed my drink before me. “Some say cynic, I say realist.”

His smile brightened. “I’m Matt, by the way.”

“Good for you.”

Truthfully, I was expecting him to walk away at that, yet he only laughed again. I did not understand what it was about me that made others think I was interested in chit-chatting. Perhaps it was my sunny disposition, or perhaps I smiled too much. “Okay, so Tony wasn’t bluffing.” He sat down beside me. “So, realist, why are you here if you hate it so much?”

“Because I was told by a very scary redhead that I didn’t have a choice.” He snickered at my answer. “I don’t exactly hear you jumping to the defense of this particularly cruel breed of torture, so why are you here?”

“I guess you could call it networking. My law partner and I are here on behalf of our firm.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest and turning in my seat to face him. “Why are you still talking to me?”

His eyebrows rose slightly, and a startled chuckle fell from his lips. “Maybe I’m a masochist… or maybe I just like the sound of your voice.”

“Yes, she has a very nice voice.” Pietro appeared beside me, eyeing Matt, with a tight smile across his lips.

Matt tilted his head in Pietro’s direction, lips upturned as he sipped his drink. “I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Matthew Murdock.” He held his hand toward a very tense man at my side. Pietro reached across me, his cologne overtaking my senses along with the warmth radiating from him, our eyes met for just a moment as he took my drink and downed it before turning back to Matt and finally shaking his hand. I looked between the two, mildly amused by the bizarre interaction.

“Pietro Maximoff.”

I raised an eyebrow at the way his voice sounded but he ignored the look. “Nice to meet you, Pietro. Nadia and I were just discussing our shared dislike of these events.” Matt said, gesturing around the room.

“Is that right?” Pietro’s hand moved to grip the back of my chair. “Well, apologies for interrupting such a fascinating conversation but I need to borrow Nadia.” Before Matt could respond, Pietro was heading toward the staircase.

I excused myself, attempting to contain my amusement as I followed the silver-haired man. He continued walking ahead of me until he reached a room off the hall of the second floor, where he pushed the door open and waited for me to enter. The room appeared to be a small lounge of some kind, with book-lined walls and a sitting area consisting of a chaise lounge and armchairs. I walked into the room, turning to watch him enter and close the door behind himself.

When he looked at me again his eyebrows were raised, and his mouth was drawn into a tight frown.

“What?”

“Are you serious?”

I sat on the arm of one of the armchairs. Easily one of the worst parts of this whole human empathy thing was caring so much what other people were upset about. I couldn’t deny though that when it was Pietro, I couldn’t stop caring. “Why are you acting strange?”

“Oh, I’m sorry were we not just in the same room? I leave you alone for 5 minutes and you’ve already got yourself an admirer.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Obviously. He was clearly flirting with you!”

I rolled my eyes at his words. “So?” I shrugged.

“So?!”

“I wasn’t flirting with him so what does it matter.”

Pietro’s jaw clenched and he paced before me. “It matters.” He shook his head; I could practically see the steam emanating from his ears. It made the tingling that was present in my belly intensify. “And you know what? It’s because of this damn dress! You look fucking devastating, of course, he’d flirt with you.”

I breathed a laugh. “Something tells me the way I look didn’t have much to do with it.”

He sent a sharp glare my way, evidently not amused. “You think this is funny?” He raised an eyebrow, stopping before me.

“Yes. Very.”

The air between us was electric as he moved closer, the corners of his lips quirking upward. “I don’t think it is.”

“Who knows Pietro, maybe it’s my dazzling personality, or innate approachability, it’s one of life’s mysteries I suppose.” I knew I was pissing him off, but that only made me want to keep going. “Why are you so mad?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re my girlfriend so I don’t particularly like the idea of some guy thinking about you in that way.”

“And what way is that?”

His chest grazed mine as he took a step forward. “The way I think about you.”

“It doesn’t matter how he thinks of me, Pietro.” The muscle in his jaw feathered but I continued before he had the chance to protest. “It doesn’t matter because I don’t think of him in that way. I don’t think of him in any way.” He didn’t seem completely satisfied with this, so I decided to give a little more of myself, lay myself slightly barer before him. “How could I? when you already occupy so much space in my brain. It’s hard to even consider other men when I’m already completely obsessed with you.”

My thumb brushed over his cheekbone, bringing him down to press my lips against his, punctuating my words, branding us both with them. We were sharing the same air as we stood there, bodies not completely flush yet warmth travelled across my flesh. “You drive me insane, Nadia.” He clenched his hands at his sides, taking a step back from me.

I asked him what he meant.

“Don’t you understand that what you just said is exactly how I feel about you? Do you know what it does to me when you tell me that you feel the same way?” He shook his head. “It’s maddening.” I swallowed heavily, watching him run a hand through his hair before turning back to face me. “And don’t think that I’m completely over the flirting thing, I’m still annoyed.”

“Oh my god, Pietro.” My hands fell to my hips. “Grow up.” The moment I’d spoken I could practically feel the band of tension begin to snap, his eyes narrowed slightly, and he moved toward me once again.

He scoffed. “Say that again.” My heart was racing, lips curving upward a little. A quiet laugh fell from me.

I repeated myself and the air between us was pure electricity.

“You know what, Nadia? I might feel better if you told me about your dream.” It all happened very quickly, I moved to shove him in the chest, a vexed expression on my face. However, before my palms made contact, he’d snatched my wrists up and pressed them against the wall above my head. My back was flush with the cold surface, the air momentarily knocked out of me. His maneuver was not particularly forceful, but the underlying context had my chest rising and falling a little faster. I glanced up at our hands, watching his fingers intertwine with mine. His lips ghosted over mine and I found myself unwittingly arching toward him, bringing a soft smirk to his lips. “Is it still funny?”

“A little.” I breathed out, still taunting even when my body felt as though it was burning up. The laugh that left him was dry, frustration evident in his tone.

When he kissed me, it felt like life or death. Like my air supply was his as well and we both needed it to survive. I pushed my body toward his and soon he got the message, moving closer, using his chest to press me flush to the wall once more. I gasped slightly against his mouth as our bodies melded together. It was bizarre, the way I felt like I was melting into him so easily, but my muscles still stiffened, my body was defensive at the touches even when they weren’t ones that I disliked. My heart was racing, thumping so hard against my chest I could feel it in my ears. The first real tug of my arms against his grip had Pietro loosening his hold and setting my hands free. One went to the back of his head, threading through his soft, silver locks, the other gripped his shoulder. I could feel one of his hands at my ribs, sliding down to my hip. It was like everything shut off for a second when his fingers slid into the slit of my dress, grazing over my thigh. I tensed so completely that Pietro pulled back, for a second the air felt too thick to swallow. He whispered an apology to me, attempting to move his hand from my leg but I caught it before he could, placing my own over his and bringing it back to my thigh. I clenched my jaw, forcing my eyes to open and let the light in once more. He was the first thing I saw. I pressed my forehead further against his, gazing into his eyes and reminding myself that I wasn’t in danger, he wouldn’t hurt me. My heart returned to the pace it had been earlier, one of keen anticipation rather than discomfort. The tension in my muscles eased and he was waiting patiently for me to make a move, an indescribable softness in his blue eyes and then it was Pietro, and I was still a little afraid, but I was okay.

“I meant it the other day when I said that I wanted you to touch me.” I dragged his hand higher up my leg, the silky, white fabric of my dress sliding upwards, revealing more of my flesh to him.

“Fucking hell.” He breathed, head dipping toward the crook of my neck, not quite touching it though. He lifted my leg to sit over his hip and I wrapped my arm around the back of his neck. When he lifted his head, his nose grazed my cheek before he planted a small kiss against my lips again. He pulled away to gaze into my eyes, leaning against me. I looked right back, seeing myself reflected in his bright, beautiful eyes. It was there; right there, that I realized it. I was completely and utterly fucked.

Chapter Text

I stretched my neck from side to side, rolling my shoulders to loosen my muscles as I waited for Pietro to arrive for training. My mind seemed set on reliving the memory of his hands on me over and over again in a never-ending loop that proved extremely distracting. I’d been attempting to push the thoughts out of my mind, to focus on other things, yet it was becoming clear to me that when it came to these pesky feelings, I was having there was no ignoring them – they refused to not be felt by me.

My lips upturned when I felt the air shift behind me, shortly after an arm swung out in an attempt to place me in a hold. It never failed to amuse me when people thought they could beat me with the element of surprise. I grabbed Pietro’s arm and ducked beneath in, using my body to flip him onto the ground on his back. He sighed dramatically, throwing his head back in exasperation. “That was uncalled for.”

I raised an eyebrow at him as he moved back to his feet, running a hand through his hair. “You’re really shit at sneaking up on people.”

He rolled his eyes. “Why must you bully me so relentlessly?”

“Are you really surprised?” My hands fell to my hips as I regarded him. “I’m not going to start going easy on you now.”

His lips curved into that cheeky grin that had become a familiar sight on him. “Oh, I wouldn’t want you to, Prinţesă.” I bit back a smile, rolling my eyes at his tone and the way his eyes traveled along my body.

“Okay, I want to see some of what you’ve learned. Think of it like a pop quiz. We’ll start with how you get out of holds.”

I was pleased with his progress though not particularly surprised; I’d been seeing his continual improvement for months now. It made me think back to that first month of us training together, he was always strong, but he lacked skill and strategy. Now, he got out of nearly all of my holds with some amount of ease, he still couldn’t beat me, but he was good. I smiled when he broke free of me before I managed to get him into the guillotine choke. When we were sparring, I saw the thought behind his movements, the skill that had become an indelible part of his fighting style. I threw a punch, and he caught my fist, twisting it and moving swiftly to evade me, a second after he stepped behind me, I felt a small sting against my ass, followed by a smart-ass little snicker. I froze in place, disbelief overtaking me as I glanced over my shoulder to see his shoulders shaking with laughter as he walked away. Without hesitation I followed, kicking him quickly in the back of the knee, not enough to hurt him but firm enough to have his knee buckle. I grabbed his shoulder about to put him in a chokehold out of retaliation. In my haste I left my guard open, allowing his to grab my wrist and swiftly sweep my feet from beneath me. I scowled at him as he pinned me to the mat beneath him. “Too slow.” He taunted, smirking growing. I gritted my teeth, attempting to summon my anger, yet meeting Pietro’s striking gaze seemed to extinguish it almost completely. The rage I knew well turned into ash and embers that dissipated in my hands. Irrespective of this I narrowed my eyes at him, feigning ire. His amused look transformed into a soft smile as he watched me. “Don’t be mad. It’s just because you’re such a good teacher.” His eyes fell to my lips. My heart was racing, and I was fighting hard to stop the smile from taking over my lips.

I bucked my hips up to throw him off-balance before moving my leg to overlap one of his and flip us. “Who’s too slow now?” I spoke moving from between his legs to pin him properly, hand beside his head holding me parallel to him.

He shook his head, snorting at me. “Sore loser.” His hand moved to sit on my hip causing my heart rate to pick up once more. His other hand tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, caressing my cheek slightly. I leaned down to brush my lips over his, gently before kissing properly. I could no longer fight the smile that tugged my lips upward, so I gave in; a little. His own smile grew, and his eyes traced over my face as if he were following an invisible pattern across my flesh. He was quiet for a long while then.

I kissed him again so that he’d stop looking at me like that. His hand squeezed my hip a little, the other smoothing over my hair to bring my lips against his more firmly. I felt his fingers pressing into the tights that covered my thigh before he flipped up over once again, rolling on top of me. This needed to end, anyone could walk into the training room, I knew that, yet the thought of stopping was still entirely unappealing. “Pietro,” I murmured against his lips, but the kissing never ceased. “We should go eat dinner.” He ignored me entirely, beginning to press a line of kisses down my throat. My lips parted, eyes fluttering slightly.  I grabbed ahold of his hair, prying him away from me. His mouth was parted, a little smirk forming.

“If you want me to stop, this isn’t the way to do it.” His hand snaked up my arm, slipping my hand from his hair and turning his head to press a gentle kiss to my pulse point. “But I am pretty hungry so…” His eyes raked over my form, causing a shiver to run down my spine. I pulled my legs back pushing his chest with my foot, causing him to fall backward. His cheeky laugh filled my ears as I moved to my feet once more.

The kitchen was empty when we entered, a rare occurrence at the compound, but not unpleasant. There was a hush that fell over the room as we sat and ate together. Out the window I could see a gray cast over the sky, wind causing the trees and bushes to sway rather violently. I twirled some pasta around my fork, glancing over at Pietro to find him already looking at me. With a raised eyebrow, I leaned back in my seat. “Is there something I can help you with?” He only grinned at me, continuing to clear his plate. A chill set into my flesh as I sat there, now regretting forgoing a jumper this morning. My body always seemed to forget how cold December was in New York. Not quite as cold as Russia, but these days my body was less adapted to the bone-chilling cold that was winter in Moscow. I rubbed a hand up and down my bare arms to combat the cool air. The sound of a fork clattering was followed by a blur of blue and silver and before I could even comprehend what had happened, Pietro was holding his jumper out to me. At first, I remained still, unsure how to react. He moved his hand slightly more toward me in a gesture of his offering. Slowly, hesitantly, I accepted the soft item, still warm from being on his body. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”

He shrugged. “Nah, I run pretty hot. You know – enhanced metabolism and all that.” I glanced down at the jumper in my hands, body stiff. “It’s not laced with poison or something, Nadia.” He teased. I rolled my eyes at him, finally slipping the jumper over my head and pulling it down. It pooled a little on me, but I didn’t mind, in fact, I rather liked it. The smell of him enveloped me, and it frightened me how at ease that made my body become.

“Thank you,” I murmured quietly, averting my eyes.

“You’re welcome. Besides, it looks better on you anyway.” A smile tugged at my lips. “Hey, since we are boyfriend and girlfriend now, do you think we should start using new pet names.” The smile faltered and I narrowed my eyes at him. “How do you feel about… babe?” The glint in his eyes told me everything I needed to know, that and the beginnings of that little shit-eating smirk forming on his lips.

“How do you feel about losing a limb?”

The smirk was no longer a mere whisper but now a prominent fixture of his expression. “You seem to be harboring a lot of rage.” He leaned a little closer to me, hand brushing my knee. “I could probably help with that.”

“Hello you two.” Cap greeted as he entered the room, staring down at a stack of envelopes. I watched Pietro with a narrowed gaze as he greeted Steve cheerily. “This came for you this morning, Nads.” He handed me an A4 envelope, before setting the rest of the mail down on the counter. “Can I talk to you in the conference room quickly, Pietro?”

When the two men were gone, I tore the seal off of the envelope, emptying its contents into my hands. A thick manila folder slid out. Along with a handwritten note.

I’ve never been good at letting go of a thread – Fury.

I flipped the folder open, its contents made me shoot up from my seat abruptly, slamming the file closed. Stowing it away under my arm, I swiftly made my way to my room, shutting the door and leaning against it. I closed my eyes for a long moment before flipping the file open once more, the first item in the folder was familiar, a S.H.I.E.L.D. dossier with my information on it, every agent has one. It described physical appearance, personal information, mission qualifications, and some other important intel. I’d seen it before; half the sections were covered with red ‘CLASSIFIED’ text. It was what followed my agent profile that had me slamming the folder closed once more. Another dossier, one I had never seen before. I didn’t even bother looking over the other documents that were in the file. I tossed it onto my bed and began to pace the length of my room. Why couldn’t Fury just let this go? I’d already told him I didn’t want him digging around in my past. I didn’t need to know; didn’t want to know. A knock on my door had me freezing in my spot. Natasha was away on assignment, so I knew it wasn’t her.

“Who is it?” I called.

“Ultron, I’ve come back for revenge,” Pietro called from the other side of the door.

I snatched the file from my bed, scanning my room for somewhere inconspicuous to hide it. “I was just joking it’s not actually Ultron, it’s just me… can I come in?” I jammed the folder into a space on my bookshelf. “What are you doing in there, Nadia?”

“You’re not funny,” I said when I yanked the door open to reveal him leaning on my doorframe with raised eyebrows.

“You love my jokes.” He pouted. “What took you so long to answer?”

“I was naked.” I taunted, moving aside to let him into the room.

He gasped, glancing over his shoulder at me in disbelief. “Well, you should have just said so, dragă, I could have helped you dress.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “I’m sure you could have.”

“What can I say, I’m very helpful.”

“And just as irritating.”

He grinned at me. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“Guess!”

An exasperated sigh fell from me as I dropped onto my bed. “You’re joining forces with a robot man to destroy the Avengers?”

He glared at me, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re a very cruel woman.”

I smiled wryly, tilting my head slightly to the side. “Are you going to tell me or what?”

“Steve is sending me on assignment by myself.” My eyebrows shot up. “Well, technically Sam is coming too, but I’m the one leading, he’s just backup.” Pietro was practically vibrating with excitement, barely managing to contain his beaming smile. I processed his words, nerves ticking within me. He’d never been the lead on assignment before and I’d never not been with him. It was entirely bizarre to me to have these feelings towards someone, to be so indescribably concerned with the welfare of one person. Though, as Pietro stood before, struggling to fight back his glee, I decided to unpack my feelings later, but in the meantime, I refused to sour his moment.

A smile spread across my lips. “Wow, they grow up so fast.” I teased, standing up. He rolled his eyes and before I could blink my feet were off the ground and Pietro was engulfing me in his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck instinctively in order to not fall. He sped around the room, jumping and spinning. His speed had things flying around all over the place. The chaos of his intense excitement caused laughter to bubble within me. “Pietro!” My stomach hurt from laughing by the time he’d stopped. He dropped down on top of my bed with me beneath him. I laughed again as he let his full weight fall on me. “You’re crushing me.” I groaned out.

He lifted himself up on his arms that sat on either side of my head. “I cannot believe that Cap trusts me enough to do this!”

“Of course, he does, you’ve done nothing but prove yourself the entire time you’ve been here.”

His eyes softened, his smile turning gentle as he gazed down at me. “You know, I owe so much of this to you.”

My face contorted with confusion, and I asked him what he was talking about.

“You’re the one who trained me… you made me a real Avenger.”

His words pierced me so deeply that I felt as though I’d lost the ability to speak for a long moment. “I only taught you to fight, Pietro. You did the rest.” I smiled at him. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I don’t think that’s true but agree to disagree I suppose.” He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, moving to hold himself up on his elbows, face hovering just above mine. “Is this, okay?” He gestured toward our bodies. I nodded slowly. His lips met mine again and my hand slipped into his hair. I couldn’t get enough of the way his mouth felt against mine, of the way his lips tasted.

He brought my other arm up to wrap around him as well before dragging his hand down to my thigh and propping it over his hip. The feeling of his warm fingers dancing on the sliver of skin where my shirt and his jumper had ridden up had me shuddering. For almost the first time in my life I leaned into the sensation of a hand making contact with my bare skin. I felt feverish, my entire body burning up and the only thing that could save me was Pietro. I pulled him flush against me. He groaned softly into my mouth pushing the hair from my face and kissing down my jaw, the way he had in the training room, but this time I didn’t stop him. My fingers tugged on his hair, and I tilted my head back, giving him more room to move. His grip on me tightened slightly he halted, forehead pressing into my shoulder as his body lifted slightly so that it was no longer flush with mine. “What’s wrong?” I asked, breathlessly.

“Maybe we should stop...”

My face flushed and I let my hands fall from him. “Pietro… what’s wrong?” I saw his Adam’s apple bob, but he didn’t lift his head. “We don’t have to do this if that’s not what you want, we can just watch a movie or something…”

Finally, his blue eyes met mine. “Nadia.” He paused, scrubbing a hand down his face before shaking his head. “I do want this… Jesus, you have no idea how badly, I want this.” The pink flush across my face and chest was likely still prominent as he watched me. “But I promised you that we’d take this slow, and if we keep going, I don’t think that’s how this is going to go.” My hand fell over his cheek, the touch so light it was barely there. I moved it to his chest. It was far easier to think straight when there was a fabric barrier between us. That is what I had said, I wanted… needed to take things slow… but God if his words didn’t make me want his so much more.

I felt him beginning to retreat from me, attempting to put some distance between us. However, it wasn’t entirely clear whose benefit that was for. Whose self-control he was trying not to test any further.  I clutched his shirt in my hand, stopping him from going any further. When he was still and the air that I breathed wasn’t solely his I could no longer blame it on the proximity, and it became hard to deny what I was feeling; so, I stopped trying to. This time, I sought him out, sitting up so that we were face to face once more. “I don’t want slow, Pietro.” I slid my hand back up to sit at the side of his neck, just below his ear. “I just want you.”

He softened as I pulled him back down to kiss me, falling on top of me once again. Though, once again, it was short-lived. His lips were practically grazing mine as he spoke. “I want you too, Nadia. God, do I want you.” I tilted my head up a little more causing him to smile a little. “You have no idea how hard it is to stop, especially when you say things like that… but I want you to still want me, want this, in the morning. So, I still think we should wait, I don’t want it to be just the heat of the moment.”

I knew he was right. As infuriating as that fact was. I wanted him, so badly it felt like I couldn’t breathe. However, that was right now, but it wasn’t so long ago that just a touch had me tensing and pulling away. This couldn’t be a heat-of-the-moment decision, irrespective of whether I understood it or not, whatever this was between us was too important. I wouldn’t be reckless with it.

So, he rolled off of me and I let him. Taking a deep breath of the non-Pietro-tinted air. I closed my eyes and attempted to settle my highly strung nerve-endings. The bed shifted as Pietro moved to stand.

“You could stay.” I knew it was risky, particularly given what had happened between us earlier. Pietro froze in his spot, standing beside my bed watching me, with slightly raised eyebrows. There was silence between us for a long moment then. I shook my head. “You don’t have to…”

He shook his head, taking a step closer. “No, I do want to stay, I do. I just don’t want you to be offering unless that’s actually what you want.”

Was it what I wanted? My heart was racing and the prospect of sharing the bed frankly terrified me a little. It wasn’t as though we’d never shared a bed. We had in Moscow, but this felt entirely different. Maybe it’s because there, he was the one who was the more vulnerable, and here – now that I had nothing to hide behind, I was the vulnerable one. Even when we’d been so intimately close just now, no guards up, no defenses, that terrified me.

“I do… It’s just, a lot, but I do want you to stay.” To punctuate my words, I slid over a little more on my bed, flipping the covers back for him. He watched me carefully as he fiddled with the corner of the duvet. A small smile grew on his lips as he slowly got into the bed beside me. I settled back against the pillow, my heart still thumping against my chest as I lay on my side, facing him. He mirrored my position, moving a little closer, gazing tenderly at me. He reached over to turn the lamp off.

“Wait!” I shot up beside him, causing him to halt immediately. He sent me a questioning look, hand hovering in mid-air. My cheeks burned, embarrassment sizzling in me as I searched for words to explain my abrupt behavior. “I-There is something you should know first.” He dropped his hand to his side, nodding softly at me and gesturing for me to go on. “I can’t sleep in silence. I haven’t been able to ever since…” I swallowed heavily, running a hand through my hair. “I just can’t sleep without a reminder that I’m not there so F.R.I.D.A.Y. plays city sounds in my room at night. It is stupid I know, but that is the only way I can sleep so I get it if you don’t want to sleep in here now.”

The look he gave me then was hard to describe, one thing that stood out was the absolute lack of judgment in his eyes. He didn’t roll his eyes or sigh he just moved closer to me, hand ever so gently caressing my cheek. “It’s not stupid.” He spoke in absolutes. “And it does not have the slightest effect on me wanting to stay.” I let out a slightly shaky breath.

“Okay. I just thought I should tell you.” I leaned over him to turn off the light so that he wouldn’t see the shade my face had turned. Though it likely didn’t hide much as the second we laid down I felt his hand return to my cheek, moving the hair out of my face and smoothing over my skin. By the time the faint sounds of the city began filtering into the previously silent room I was far more occupied with the man who laid before me. I felt the warmth radiating from his chest and despite myself, I moved slightly closer to him. His free arm slid beneath my pillow, not actually touching me, just there, a solid, consistent reminder. His other hand remained on my cheek, playing with my hair, dusting across my warm skin.

“If you’re comfortable so am I.” His breath fanned over my face, his words a mere murmur. I barely recognized the stinging in my eyes until I felt the hot stream of liquid leave my eyes. There, lying in my bed with him touching my skin so intimately I was sure I’d never felt so at ease in my life. I had expected that prickling sensation of discomfort to set in, yet there was no trace of it as my heart slowed and my body melted into his hand.

His fingers grazed over my wet cheeks, halting for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was hushed. “Did I upset you?” I shook my head against his hand.

“I’m not upset.”

I felt him shift a little, more of his warmth radiating onto me. “But you’re crying.”

My chin grazed his shoulder when I moved, fingers shaky as they fell to his wrist. I smoothed my thumb over the soft flesh on the inner side of his arm, feeling the steady thump of his pulse. He wiped my tears away, soft in that way only Pietro knew how to be. “I’m not upset,” I repeated. “You just… I’m not good at saying these things… You just say and do things for me that no other person has ever done before. Things that I’ve never even realized I wanted someone to do, and you just know and… honestly, it scares the shit out of me, Pietro.” It was hushed, the tone in which I spoke to him. Just like it had been that day when we lay side by side in Central Park. Because some words were just for the two of us to share.

“I don’t want to scare you, Nadia.”

I smiled a little. “Well, you do. When I’m with you, I feel these things that I’ve never felt before, I don’t understand the feelings and I don’t know what to do with them all.”

He smoothed my hair back with his palm, just like he had earlier. “You could always give them to me. I’ll take them.”

I closed my eyes with those words lingering between us. His hand was still on my cheek, caressing, brushing through my hair. When sleep came, I welcomed it.

When I awoke during the night – as I did; there was no red, the panic came and went and the only thing that remained was the warmth of Pietro’s embrace.

…

Sunlight drew a warm line across my cheek as I awoke. My body was still heavy with sleep as I cracked my eyes open. The warm weight of Pietro’s arm lay over my shoulders, the man himself flat on his back, still fast asleep. My head was resting on his chest. The corners of my lips tugged upward as I watched him, a peaceful expression on his face. I laid my head over my arm, studying the arches of his eyebrows, the curve of his jaw, and the smooth pale skin of his cheeks. His nose crinkled slightly.

“Why are you staring at me, Prinţesă?” He cracked an eye open as he spoke, voice deep with sleep.

I looked away quickly. “I was not staring.” I scoffed.

 He snickered. “You’re not a very good liar, Nadia.”

“I’m an exemplary liar, actually, you’re just delusional.” His signature smirk appeared on his lips. I looked away quickly, hiding my smile. When I gazed out at my room I was shocked by the state of it. There were books and papers all over the place. I wracked my brain for what had possibly caused that mess before glancing back at Pietro accusingly. His expression turned sheepish.

“I was excited!” He defended.”

“You are like a bull in a China shop.” I tsked. He only shot me a toothy grin. He slipped from the warm embrace of the bed to begin collecting my belongings that had been strewn about. I rolled onto my back, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Who is Nadia Morozova?”

I shot up at the mention of the name, Pietro stood across the room, striking with the sunlight pooling in my bedroom, in his hands was the file I’d thought I’d hidden yesterday. It must’ve fallen from the shelf when Pietro was running around.

With a heavy swallow and several long moments of hesitation, I finally spoke. “I am.” I got out of bed swiftly, grabbing the file out of his hands, and clutching it so tightly that the paper began to crinkle. “Pimenova is the name I took when I defected, originally it was Morozova.” The cold mask of indifference, I forced over myself chaffed as I stood in his unwavering gaze.

“Okay. So, what is that.” He pointed at the folder in my hands.

“My file,” I spoke as if it was obvious.

The corners of Pietro’s lips upturned. “Yes, but why is Nick Fury sending you your file.”

My grip tightened again on the manila folder.  I shrugged at the man before me. “What is this, an interrogation?”

“Actually, it’s this crazy thing called communicating, figured maybe we could try it.” He teased.

“Fury’s sending it to me because he can’t leave well enough alone.” Pietro raised an eyebrow at me, evidently not content with my answer. “I really don’t understand why you’re so invested.”

“Because you’re clearly upset.”

“Oh, for fucks sake, Pietro! Fury is hassling me because he thinks he’s found some bullshit lead on my biological family, but this isn’t the first time he’s saying that, and I had no interest in it then either.”

That momentarily silenced him. He furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t understand, why wouldn’t you want that?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Want what?”

“You have an opportunity to have a relationship with your family, to know them. Why wouldn’t you take it.”

“Because I don’t want it.”

“Why?”

I threw the file onto my bed, now empty hands clenching into fists at my side. “I just don’t.” 

“How can you say that?!” His tone was impassioned when he spoke, taking me by surprise. I didn’t understand what he was feeling right now. “If I had the choice, I would give anything to see my parents again, I don’t have that luxury. You do and you’re choosing wrong!”

“The luxury?” Before I could say anything else, Pietro cut me off.

“It isn’t even just about your parents, what if you have a sibling out there? You don’t even care? You’re just choosing to ignore it?”

My heart clenched and raced at the same time. I was incensed then. “Choosing?! That’s funny, really. I didn’t choose anything about this! You seriously have no idea what you’re talking about, you had a family Pietro! You still have Wanda. I never knew my parents or any siblings. I never had that. So don’t act like it’s even comparable. Even if I did have a family out there, they’d only be strangers to me and me to them, so what’s the difference anyway?” I blinked rapidly in an attempt to lessen the stinging in my eyes. Pietro’s eyes softened as he looked at me.

“Nadia-”

“I’d be doing them a disservice anyway. At least if they think I’m dead or missing or whatever, they can just remember me as the child they lost. The one they knew. I don’t want to ruin that memory for them.” He stared at me with parted lips, eyes gentle and a merciful look in them. I felt the tears break the barrier of my waterline and I was furious. Pietro was before me in an instant. My throat felt raw as I continued. “I don’t want them to know me…”

“Nadia… letting them know you is not a disservice. Knowing you is and always will be nothing less than a privilege.”

I shook my head, wiping frantically at my face to rid myself of the tears. “Just stop.”

“No, Nadia. Look at me.” He placed his hands on my shoulders, and I turned my face away from him. His hand brought me back, wiping the tears from each of my cheeks and forcing me to meet his eyes. “You need you to know that… I need you to know that!” The tears kept coming despite my hardest attempts to stop them. “Tell me you know that.” His voice was quieter then. When I didn’t respond, his hands eclipsed my cheeks, his eyes were wide and desperate as he looked at me. “You saved my life, again and again, you have saved so many people and never expected anything in return. Even when you didn’t trust me, or even particularly like me, you still trained me. You still helped me become an Avenger. You took me to New York, to your place because you knew I didn’t have one of my own. You gave my sister a clean slate. Why did you do all of that?”

“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “It was just the right thing to do.”

“But not everyone would have done it. You did. Because you’re a good person… more than that there aren’t words to describe how good you are inside, Nadia.” He didn’t let go of me once and even though I turned from him and pushed him, he knew that I didn’t actually want him to leave. He knew that I needed him, so he stayed and never even acknowledged it. “It kills me that you can’t see that.” He leaned his forehead against mine. “I need you to see that.”

I wrapped my arms around him. I hugged him and it terrified me still, but the only thing I felt was warm and golden. Everything wasn’t completely perfect, but it was okay.

It felt like daylight after years of clinging to the darkness of night.

Chapter Text

A chill sat heavy in the air of my bedroom when I woke up, dancing across my skin and causing me to shiver slightly. I sat up to see a blanket of white outside my window. I got up quickly, pulling a sweater over my head and slipping into some shoes before wandering down the long corridor that led to the compound's back entry. I pushed the door open, taking a deep breath of the brisk air that immediately bit at my flesh. The first snowfalls of winter almost settled me strangely enough. Even if they served as a bittersweet reminder of Russia. We never saw snow in the Red Room, it was only when we got to go outside that we’d feel the sting of the glacial air. The burn of the fresh snow on our skin was a reminder that we were still alive.

“You’re going to catch a cold, Prinţesă.” His warm breath against my ear had a small smile tugging at my lips. His warmth seeped into my bones as he wrapped his arms around me. I let my body melt ever so slightly against his solid chest.

“It must have snowed all night; I wish I’d been awake to see it.”

Pietro tucked some stray hair back behind my ear, pressing a soft kiss to the side of my head. “I am leaving in 3 days, and you’d rather look at the same snow that you see every year than my devastatingly handsome face?”

I sent him a glance over my shoulder, lips curving upward. “Can’t I look at both?”

“So, you admit it? You think I’m very handsome.” He spun me in his arms, hands falling to sit at my waist.

“I don’t recall saying that. In fact, it doesn’t really sound like something I would say.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You don’t have to be shy; you can just say you are floored by my beauty.”  

“Or perhaps it is your self-assurance that has me astonished.” I slipped from his grasp, heading back towards my room.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I heard a whir and suddenly Pietro stood before me with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m getting dressed, we have to go with the others to get a Christmas tree remember.”

Pietro closed the door behind him after entering my room and I tossed my jumper onto the bed. “I forgot that was today.” He sighed exasperatedly.

I snorted. “You were the one who wanted to get involved with the festivities.” I turned away from the silver-haired man, slipping my shirt over my head and promptly interrupting whatever he was about to say. His words cut off into a strange drawn consonant sound that barely resembled a word. “Are you short-circuiting?” I taunted, slipping a bra on.

“I…” His eyebrows were raised, and he looked a little light-headed when I turned around. “You just took your shirt off.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes well, I told you I was getting dressed, and you followed me in here I assumed you understood how the concept of getting dressed unfolded.”

“Very funny, Nadia. I think you know what I mean.”

“No not really, Pietro.”

“You are standing in front of me in your underwear right now!”

I looked down at my body, eyes then sliding up to meet his. “I have pants on. Besides you’ve seen me in my underwear before, Moscow, remember.”

“That was different, and you know it.”

“I didn’t mean to make you so uncomfortable, I’m sorry, it's just not really that big of a deal to me. You’re not exactly the first person to see me without clothes on.”

His eyes narrowed at me, and he tilted his head slightly to the side.

His expression made me giggle slightly. “I didn’t mean it like that… I just mean, where I grew up, there wasn’t exactly a lot of privacy, you get used to it.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Well, then why the freak out?” I watched him intently as his eyes shifted, venturing downwards for the first time since my shirt had come off. What I’d said was true, about him not being the first person to see me without clothes, yet the way his eyes looked as they traveled over each inch of exposed skin had goosebumps prickling across my flesh. My spine tingled as his pretty blue eyes became a little darker and suddenly, despite the bra and sleep shorts I felt completely exposed. Yet, I didn’t feel the need to cover up. Instead, I reached down to my waistband, slipping my thumbs beneath it. “You can always go if it’s bothering you.” His eyes flickered back up to mine, and a solitary eyebrow rose, jaw clenching. He looked irritated; it sent a flurry of amusement through me. I shrugged, tugging my shorts down and letting them fall to the floor, pooling around my ankles. My eyes fell on Pietro again who was almost eerily still, barely breathing. I bit back a grin as I approached him, stopping when there was barely an inch between us. His sharp intake of breath had me doubling down on my effort not to laugh. “You’re in my way,” I murmured.

His eyebrows furrowed. “What?” He managed to get out.

I nodded to the set of drawers that were behind him. “Unless you’d like to hand me some underwear.” The muscle in his jaw feathered as he watched me. “Well? What’s it going to be?”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Nadia.”

My eyebrows rose and I leaned a little more toward him. “I don’t think it’s dangerous?” I wanted him to kiss me so desperately, I felt sure I’d burn to bits if he didn’t. It had been like this for days, the tension between us so thick it was choking me, yet he refused to act on it. He’d kissed me but it was always sweet, gentle, and short. It never eventuated into anything else. Ever since that night when he stayed in my room. “I mean it’s not like you’re actually going to do anything, Pietro.”

I felt his warm hand land on my hip, gripping it. My breath hitched at the contact, heart speeding up. His finger slipped beneath the waistband on my panties, fiddling with it for a moment before letting the elastic snap back against my skin. I narrowed my eyes at him, frustration intertwining with the desire that enveloped me. “Are you going to take them off, or should I?”

I swore my heart simply stopped beating for a second. My cheeks felt hot, and I had to suppress a shudder at his words. He was nonchalant about it, raising his eyebrows as though he was completely unsure of why a question of that nature would take me aback. “I- what?”

“That is how getting dressed generally unfolds is it not?”

I could no longer suppress the grin, as he so casually used my own words to taunt me. He was not winning this round, as much as he thought he was. “Since you’re so insistent on being helpful, maybe you should take them off.” Both of his hands were on my hips, pressing his fingertips into my flesh, grazing over the soft black fabric that covered me. My lips parted at the sensation.

“Nadia…”

“Pietro.” I brushed my lips over his, but he pulled away quickly, putting plenty of distance between us.

“I should let you get dressed; we don’t want to keep the other waiting.” With that he sped off, shutting the door firmly behind him.

I sighed heavily, snatching a skirt and tights from my closet. When I arrived in the foyer of the compound, Pietro was already there talking to his sister. Natasha was not far behind me, tailed by Steve and Sam. I could see Tony and Pepper through the open front door, speaking in hushed tones. “Alright everyone, we’ll have to take two cars to fit us all.” Steve began with his regular leading countenance. I snickered slightly.

“Aye aye, Captain.” He made a face at me as we walked out toward the two black SUVs. I opened the driver’s side door of one just as Tony did the same to the other car, Nat slipped into the passenger seat beside me immediately fiddling with the radio to find a station she liked. My eyes met Wanda’s as she glanced between the two cars. I offered her a smile which – by my standards – was warm. “Hop in.” I nodded toward the car I was entering, a bright smile emerging across her lips. A glance at Pietro had my mood soured slightly as I saw him quickly slip into the car with the other boys, not sparing me a glance. The action made my stomach twist up, why was he so damn confusing? I dropped into the driver’s seat exasperatedly. Natasha spared me a suspicious glance before rolling her window down and leaning slightly out.

“Hey Pepper, what do you say we make it a girl’s trip to the tree farm?” The woman agreed eagerly, slipping into the seat beside Wanda without hesitation. When we were all buckled up, I pulled our car up beside the boys, glancing over at Tony who revved the engine performatively.

He sent me a smart-ass look. “Now when we beat you girls there don’t take it personally.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen.” The boys were snickering, smugness exuding from their car causing me to grip the steering wheel tighter. I could see Natasha putting the address into the GPS from my peripheral prompting me to smile over at Tony.

He opened his mouth to respond but before the words were out of his mouth I floored it, taking off in front of him. The moment we hit the open road Natasha started the Christmas music. I shot her an unimpressed look before returning my gaze to the road. “Oh, don’t be such a grinch, it’s festive.”

“Whatever you say.” I sighed.

“You seem tense, Nadia. What’s on you’re mind?” Pepper asked with a kindness to her voice that had the corners of my lips quirking up.

Before I could respond Natasha was speaking one more. “Oh, don’t mind her she’s just sour because she misses her boyfriend.” She sing-songed the last word, nudging my shoulder teasingly. The glare I sent her would have been bone-chilling to anyone else, no doubt, yet she only laughed it off. I heard Wanda snickering from the back seat and sent her a look in the rear-view mirror.

“Don’t encourage her.”

“I think it’s sweet that you like him so much.” Pepper gushed.

I scoffed. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh, deny it all you want we all know you’re completely smitten.” Natasha’s words had me flushing though I attempted to play it off. “And we all know he’s been obsessed with you since the beginning so really it was just a matter of you giving up the whole broody indifferent act and now, we get to watch you two be sickeningly cute.”

I rolled my eyes. “New topic please!”

Pepper laughed at that. “You sound just like Tony.”

“How is he doing? he’s seemed a little… off lately,” Nat said.

“You’re guess is as good as mine. Talking about his feelings isn’t exactly his forte, most of the time he either changes the subject or literally flees. I’ve barely seen him these last few weeks.”

Nat glanced in my direction. “Sounds like someone I know.” I pinched her in retaliation causing her to gasp and smack my hand away indignantly.

“Maybe he just needs some time.”

“I hope so… It’s just hard, he carries so much weight around on his shoulders and I’m standing there practically begging him to let me carry some of it but he won’t let me.”

…

“Are you mad at me?”

Pietro furrowed his eyebrows at me. I’d cornered him practically the second we arrived at the tree farm, having barely beaten the boys since Tony’s ego was seemingly more important than obeying road rules. The others were off perusing trees or warming up by the coffee stand. The smell of pine and hot chocolate enveloped my senses as we stood nestled in between a stack of trees. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know you tell me. You know I’m not good at the whole human emotion’s things, I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

“You haven’t pissed me off at all, you never piss me off, Nadia.”

I smiled at him. “You can tell me the truth I won’t be offended if you say I pissed you off, you piss me off all the time.”

Pietro narrowed his eyes at me, visibly fighting back a smile. “Really? I’ve never gotten that from you before.” A slight laugh bubbled in my throat. The smile won out, spreading across his lips. He caressed my cheek pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. “I’m not mad at you, Nadia. I promise.”

“So why are you acting so strange?”

“Am I acting strange?”

It was my turn to narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He wasn’t nearly as good at the nonchalant thing as he thought he was, and even if he was, I’d spent most of my life playing this game, he wasn’t likely to fool me. Though his attempt frustrated and frankly slightly upset me.

My shoulders sagged slightly. “Fine,” I muttered; his eyes softened at my tone. I moved to turn away from him, but his hands grasped my upper arms, holding me in place.

“Wait. Please. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He closed his eyes for a long moment. “I’m not mad at you.”

I clenched my jaw. The feelings that swirled through me were not entirely clear. They were, however, abundantly unpleasant, that much was obvious. “Okay you’re not mad, so what’s going on?”

He opened his mouth to respond but then closed it again with a heavy sigh. Instead of answering me he furrowed his eyebrows once more and began rubbing up and down on my arms over my sleeves creating friction warmth. “You’re cold.” He noted. I glanced down at the movement of his hands and just like that I was gone.

A soothing heat covered my upper arms as my hands moved over them.

“I told you to wear your jacket.” There were more words, but they were jumbled, I didn’t recognize the voice but then I couldn’t hear it anyway.

While I’m alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me.

Birds singin’ in the sycamore tree.

A ringing sound filled my ears and the man in the glasses was back, placing something over my eyes.

The ballerinas were on the stage again.

Sweet dreams ‘til sunbeams find you.

Sweet dreams… in the sycamore tree.

Birds singin’… in your dreams whatever they be.

Your dreams… your dreams… whatever they be…

I shut my eyes tightly in an attempt to block out the sounds.

“Tell me who you are.”

“Nadia, are you alright?”

The hands stopped and when my eyes opened again Pietro was before me again, a concerned look drenching his features as he scanned me for signs of distress. I shook my head, swallowing heavily and taking a shaky breath. “I’m fine…” I murmured.

“What happened?”

“Oh, so now you want to talk. You know, for someone so big on communicating you certainly have a knack for dodging the things you don’t want to talk about.”

He scoffed. “Well, I learned from the best.”

“Иди на хуй.” Go fuck yourself. I responded with a huff, turning to walk away.

“I don’t know what that means but I’m guessing it's probably not nice.” He called after me, but I ignored him. He caught up with me in a few long strides, blocking my path and offering me a tender smile. “I know you’re mad at me, but you look really pretty right now, and I would very much like to kiss you.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring up at him. “Your audacity is unbelievable, truly.”

His smile turned from sweet to cheeky in an instant. “Is that a yes?” I turned away from him again, storming off, though I only made it about three feet before I turned back around and approached him, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and kissing him hard before shoving him off and walking away.

…

It was Nat who picked the tree in the end, refusing to hear any argument. When it was loaded into the car, we found ourselves wandering down the main street perusing the shops and taking in the rare day of peace.

I fell back a few paces from the group, taking in the snow-spattered streets of upstate New York. Pepper’s strawberry blonde hair filled my line of sight as she joined my side.

“Hey, Nadia.” I offered her a very small smile of acknowledgment. “I’ve actually been meaning to thank you for whatever you said to Tony.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at her. “I didn’t say anything to him.”

“Well, you must have said something because, while he’s still cryptic, he’ll at least tell me why he doesn’t want to talk right now.”

When she spoke it was as though my mind went blank, unsure what to say in response. There was genuine gratitude in her eyes, I looked to the ground. “I’m glad you two are talking more, but I really didn’t do anything.”

She was quiet for a moment, only the whisper of a smile remained on her lips. “Okay.” She murmured.

“Speedy come on man, I’m freezing my ass off over here!” I heard Sam complain, causing me to look ahead. Pietro was looking at something in a shop window and it was evident from the expression on his face that he wasn’t quite ready to leave.

“Yeah, I’m getting pretty cold too, and the snows starting to get heavier we should probably head off soon.” Nat spoke up. I looked Pietro and the others, wringing my fingers together. The red-headed woman’s eyes lit up as she looked over at me. “I mean there are two cars, the rest of us could go together and I’m sure Nads wouldn’t mind sticking around and then driving the two of you back later.” I rolled my eyes at her not-so-subtle scheming. The corners of Pietro’s lips curved upward as he looked over at me.

“Okay fine, piss off all of you then,” I spoke cooly, switching keys with Tony as I’d driven the bigger car.

He sent me a side-long glance, amusement plain on his face. “Drive safe.”

When the others had left, I wandered into the gift shop after Pietro. Scanning the aisles of trinkets for any sign of the familiar silver hair. I found him in the back corner, lingering in front of a display that was obscured by his shoulders which had begun to sag slightly. Wordlessly, I joined his side, immediately understanding the shift in his demeanor. Before us stood a small but beautiful array of what I assumed were traditional Sokovian Christmas decorations as well as some other small knick-knacks. In center was an old, faded image of a small boy and his family, below that was a hand-written sign that read ‘Even when lost, we keep them alive in our hearts.’  Pietro was completely silent beside me. I let my fingers brush against his, he grabbed my hand before I could move it away, intertwining our fingers and holding on tightly. Without uttering a single word, I let him hold on to me. I didn’t know what to say to him, what could even begin to cover it; so, I just stayed beside him, holding onto him just as tightly.

We remained for quite some time after this, still allowing the comfortable silence to sit over us as we walked through the icy streets. My nose was numb and my cheeks red by the time we returned to the car, blasting the heating to defrost. The radio played softly as I drove, a gentle hum in the background blanketing the lack of conversation between us. I felt like we should talk about whatever was bothering Pietro, but this felt like the wrong time, maybe there wouldn’t be a right time. Either way, I chose to simply remain in the silence that was beginning to become a little tense.

“Just say it.” He murmured, looking out the window at the landscape that was now covered in powdery snow.

“Say what?” I spoke, feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket. Without taking my eyes from the road I slipped it out, glancing over to see Natasha’s caller ID. I put my phone in the cupholder – whatever it was could likely wait until we got back and if it was important, she’d call again.

Pietro exhaled deeply, looking over at me with a smile so small it was almost imperceptible. “Whatever is on your mind.”

The snow was getting heavier and heavier the further we drove, and I was beginning to grip the wheel tighter, speed lowering to keep traction. “There is nothing on my mind, I am free of thoughts right now.” My phone began buzzing in the cupholder. “Can you check who that is?”

“Natasha.”

“Shit, answer it.” He did as I asked, her voice coming through the car speakers a moment later. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing major but we just got back to the compound, and they’re currently closing all the roads because of the weather. I doubt you guys will make it back without getting turned around and it’s not really safe to be driving right now anyway.”

I squinted, slowing down again as the visibility became even worse, cursing in Russian and checking my rearview mirror before pulling to the side of the road. “So, what are we supposed to do?”

“Your best bet is probably to grab a hotel there. Hang on Tony is tracking the car to see where the nearest accommodation is.” I laid my head back on the seat, frustration beginning to fray my nerves. Chatter sounded in the background of the call before Nat spoke again. “Okay the closest hotel to you guys is a 10-minute drive, sending you the location now.” My phone pinged and I thanked Natasha before hanging up and turning the car back on to begin driving to the hotel. The problem being when I accelerated, and the loud sound of skidding filled my ears whilst the car remained stationary. I hit the pedal again and the car did the same thing, not moving even slightly. The door slammed behind me as I walked to the back of the car to see we were in fact bogged down in the snow and sleet that had built up on the side of the road.

“That might be a problem.” Pietro mused, glancing at me from the other side of the car. Without responding, I squatted down and began digging at the sleet with my hands, kicking at the parts that were too tough to move. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Trying to get us out of here, are you going to keep standing around asking stupid questions or help?” My tone was snappy as I continued digging around the tire.

He huffed a laugh, not moving, only fueling the fire in me. “Forget the car, let’s just walk and we’ll call someone to tow it when the roads are clear.

“No, we don’t need someone to tow it. It’s fine. I can do it.” I moved to my feet once more, flattening my hands on the back of the car and using all of my strength to push it, only for the car to barely budge. I gritted my teeth, going back to digging. My hands were stinging from the bite of ice against my flesh, but I ignored it, steadfast in my mission.

“Jesus, Nadia, stop it you’re going to give yourself frostbite.” Pietro yanked me away from the tire. “It’s freezing out here, let's just get to the hotel and we’ll deal with the car in the morning.” I pulled away from him, turning on my heel and beginning in the direction of the hotel Nat had sent me, not speaking a word to Pietro. “Nadia come on, just tell me what’s on your mind.”

I halted abruptly, turning to him with an accusing finger pointed in his direction. “I don’t want to talk to you Pietro! This is your fault if you hadn’t held us up, we could be back at the compound by now not walking through this fucking freezing bullshit.” I kicked at a large pile of snow, not thinking through my actions and feeling my balance crumble as my foot slid across a sheet of ice. Warm arms wrapped around me before I hit the ground, Pietro’s blue eyes gazing down into mine as he held me up. He pulled me back to my feet gently. My face burned and my face was beginning to hurt from the cold. I shook the snow from my shoulders, turning dramatically and continuing toward the hotel without uttering a single word to him.

Chapter Text

I kept a few paces before him the entire walk, neither of us breaking the silence that sat heavy between us. By the time we stepped into the reception office my hair was drenched and clinging to me, much like my clothes that the still falling snow had melted through, saturated me. My teeth were chattering, limbs shaking as I spoke to the woman behind the front desk. The news that there was still one room available was a relief adding to the range of feelings I was experiencing presently. The room was significantly warmer than outside, yet the shivering only worsened. There was a single queen-sized bed in the center, and a small tv and kitchenette in the corner beside a door that I assumed led to the bathroom. Pietro went straight to the heater, turning it up to the highest setting as I grabbed all of the blankets from the cupboards, laying them on the bed before beginning to peel off my coat. My teeth were chattering so loudly that it caught Pietro’s attention, and, in an instant, he was before me, attempting to help me undress. I moved away from him, removing the rest of my clothing until I was left in the only dry items, my bra and underwear. Pietro did the same, left in only our undergarments we grabbed blankets and huddled before the heater. I grasped the soft material to my flesh closing my eyes tightly and bringing my knees to my chest. The teeth-chattering didn’t let up, my body still shaking and stinging from the cold that seemed to be clinging to me. I could feel Pietro’s gaze on me. “Nadia-”

“No.” I cut him off.

His tone shifted, no amusement, lightness or room for argument. “Stop now. I’m not letting you get hypothermia just because you’re stubborn.” My eyes slowly traveled over to his form as he opened his blanket covered arms and beckoned me over. I rolled my eyes at him, swallowing heavily and willing the cold to go away. When it didn’t and my body began to physically shudder with it, I sighed exasperatedly and crawled over to the man who immediately wrapped my up in himself and the blanket when my back pressed to his chest. “God, you’re freezing, why do you have to be so fucking resistant to help.” I didn’t respond as he enveloped me completely, pressing with exceedingly warm flesh to mine, acting as my personal furnace.

Slowly but surely, my teeth stopped chattering and my shaking calmed as his heat seeped into me, warming me to my bones. At some point the tenseness in my body eased slightly as I allowed him to take away the biting coldness.

I gave him a short glance over my shoulder before turning back to the plain brick wall that was before us. There was a silence between us that was so thick it felt as though it was practically strangling me, yet I refused to break it first. A S.H.I.E.L.D. assigned therapist once told me I tended to favor avoidant capabilities in times of emotional conflict; Pietro moved to sit by the fire beside me and I managed to see her point as I stared ahead at the place spot where the paint had begun to peel.

“So now you’re pissed off at me?” I didn’t respond at first, ignoring the feeling of his intense gaze burning into the side of my head. He didn’t falter once, unyielding as he stared at me. “That’s fair, could you maybe talk to me though?”

The look I gave him must have given away at least a portion of how incensed I was as he closed his eyes for a long moment before giving me a sheepish smile. I clenched my hands into fists at my sides, taking a deep breath. “I’m not pissed off at you.”

He glanced down at my hands. “Right.”

“I’m trying to be a rational adult, so just give me a second to not be so mad.” He nodded, looking straight ahead again. The silence lasted approximately 3 seconds before he spoke again.

“I’m sorry I held us up, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

I closed my eyes tightly, taking a deep breath as I leaned back slightly further against his chest. “Don’t be sorry, I’m not mad about that at all, I’m sorry I snapped at you.” He pressed a kiss so gentle to my cheek I barely felt it. Though, the meaning was not lost on me. “I just want you to tell me what’s going on, I don’t like the weird tension between us right now.”

“It’s kind of complicated.”

I shrugged, looking back at him “So? You’ve been strange since the other night, whatever it is, just say it.”

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water and I could see the battle in his eyes, the struggle to find the words. My mind reeled, running over everything that had happened since that night. Every word, every kiss, every touch.

Then I thought maybe I understood.

I moved out of his arms, sitting cross-legged before him, wrapping the other blanket around myself. “If you don’t want to touch me… in that way, you don’t have to… just say that.”

The only way to describe the look in his eyes then was pure distress. He dropped his head into his hands and groaned dramatically. “Jesus fucking Christ, Nadia, I want to touch you.” I narrowed my eyes at him opening my mouth to respond only to be cut off. “God, you have no idea how badly I want to touch you. It is all I’ve thought of for months, honestly, I’ve wanted this since the moment I met you.”

My heart rate picked up slightly at his words. “Well, then why have you been acting so weird and avoiding me?”

“Because I wanted it to be your decision.”

I asked him what he meant.

“I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I meant what I said that night, it couldn’t be some heat of the moment decision that you’d regret, I couldn’t take that, I didn’t want you to change your mind and the only way I felt like I could be sure that you were sure is if you initiated things.”

His words baffled me, truly astonished me. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This had to be some kind of joke, yet his gaze was earnest and pained and I felt like slapping him across his pretty face. “You are the most idiotic person I have ever met.” His expression turned indignant, but I continued before he could interrupt. “I quite literally took my clothes off in front of you this morning and that wasn’t a clear enough initiation?”

Both his eyebrows rose as I spoke. “T-that was not as clear as you think it was.”

My eyes narrowed at him. “I told you to take my underwear off, Pietro.”

He snickered slightly even as a flush travelled up his neck. “Okay touché, but, in my defense… you are a tease.”

“Me?!” My tone dripped with disbelief as I shoved his shoulder. “You’re the one always starting things he can’t finish.”

“Hey, I absolutely can finish it, I’m just a gentleman.”

I shrugged. “Oh right, so you’re only all talk when it comes to me then. I guess I’ll just have to take your word for the rest of it.” The second the words left my mouth there was an evident shift in Pietro’s expression which had a shiver rushing down my spine.

“I don’t like that tone.” Before I could even think of a retort his lips were on mine, kissing me hungrily. I felt the way the air changed between us, frustration melting into something entirely different. His hand smoothed up my thigh gripping it tightly. “So… just to be clear you’re asking me to prove it to you?” I nodded and he yanked my leg, causing me to fall into his lap swiftly. His lips kissed along my jaw, cold fingers fiddling with the hem of my shirt. “Say the words, Nadia.” I furrowed my eyebrows at him. “Tell me what you want.” My lips hovered over his as I looked down into his piercing gaze.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

His grip on my thigh tightened and his hand slipped up slightly, pushing my blanket up with it. “Yes, I would, and if you want me to give you something you’d like, you’ll start listening.” His hand rose a little further, eclipsed by the fabric of the blanket as it ventured beneath. Goosebumps rose across my skin as I felt his other hand wrap around the back of my neck pulling me down against his lips again.

“I want you, Pietro. If that wasn’t obvious.” I felt his lips curving into a smirk against mine.

“Oh, it was, but I’d appreciate a little less attitude.”

I bit back a laugh, swallowing my pride and giving, just slightly. His hair was slightly damp from the snow that had touched it when we’d been outside, it caused the drying pieces to fall messily around his eyes, sticking up when I ran my fingers through it. He looked handsome like this, not I didn’t find him frustratingly handsome normally. My fingertips smoothed over his cheek, and I pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I want you.” I smiled “All of the time.” I recounted the words he’d spoken to me after Amsterdam. Within seconds he’d moved to his feet and hoisted me up to wrap my legs around his waist.

“You have me.”

That was the last thing he said before our surroundings blurred and my back hit the plush hotel bed. Pietro brought warmth with him when he crawled atop me, lips on mine the second he was above me. The imprint of his hands felt as though it burned me, but not in a way that made me pull back or flinch but in a way that had me craving more. I helped him push the blanket back off of his shoulders, leaving them bare. As soon as the fabric was cleared, I was guiding his lips back to mine and wrapping my arms around his neck. His hand travelled down my hip, hooking my thigh over his hip so he could lay further against me. I gasped into his mouth as his fingertips danced just below the band of my bra. With a single hand in the center of his chest I pushed him back, moving with him to sit upright and slip from beneath him. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily as he watched me unclasp my bra, the straps fell slowly down my arms before I slid the fabric completely off of my body. His eyes trailed from my own to take in the sight of my now bare chest, that heaved slightly with the tension of the moment. I walked toward him, letting my knee sink into the soft duvet on either side of him, settling onto his lap again and kissing him eagerly. One of his hands stroked my cheek tenderly, the other laying limp at his side. I grinned against his lips, smoothing my hand over his shoulder and down his bicep to grasp his wrist and move the limb upward. His eyes tracked the movement, completely mesmerized as I flattened his palm over one of my breasts. The still slightly chilly air of the room, combined with his proximity had the sensitive flesh stiffening under his palm. I kissed him yet again, lips parting to allow his tongue to make contact with mine.

“You’re usually so talkative, what happened?”

“Well, it’s not exactly easy to make conversation when your half naked and looking at me like you are.”

I raised an eyebrow. “How am I looking at you?”

His gaze darkened slightly as his lips drew into a thin line, his patience evidently wearing thin. My back arched and a sound of sharp pleasure fell from my lips when he fingertips pinched one of my nipples. “I think you know.”

When his hands moved downwards my heart rate picked up yet again, thrumming against my sternum as his fingers teased over my inner thigh, sliding around to slip just beneath the waistband of my panties. I could feel just how eager he was beneath me, prompting me to slide a little further into his lap. The sensation of him hard and pressing against me had a hum emanating from me. His hands moved to grip my hips tightly, dragging me over him at a pace that was excruciating and completely addictive at the same time. My head fell back slightly, the sound he made going straight between my legs.

“Wait.” I spoke up, pulling back just slightly. He stopped immediately, looking up at me with pupils that just about eclipsed his irises. I bit my lip before pressing another kiss to his lips because apparently, I hadn’t tasted enough of them yet. Forcing myself to pull away again I sighed, rolling my shoulders back before meeting his eyes again. “There’s just… I’ve never…” I shrugged, a flush travelling up my chest. “You know.”  He raised an eyebrow at me, lips quirking up at the corners. “I’ve never had an orgasm alright! Honestly, I don’t think I can.” I looked down, my voice quietening at the end. Pietro’s fingers tugged my chin back up to look at him.

“It’s okay.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what it is, there’s something wrong with me, I guess. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

His eyes softened, brows furrowing slightly. He tugged me toward him by the hips, flattening his hand to slide it over my thigh. In one swift maneuver he’d pulled me on top of him, settling me on his lap. His hands returned to my hips once more. “There is nothing wrong with you, Nadia. Being with you is all I want so how could I ever be disappointed when I get to do that?”

“Are you saying sweet things to me so you’ll get lucky?”

“I never dreamed I would get this lucky.” His lips were on mine then, firm and passionate and my nerves melted slightly. The way his lips felt against mine was entrancing and utterly addicting, I never wanted it to end. “I know that you think you can’t and maybe that’s true, but I still want to try, if you’re okay with it.”

His words had me breathless, or maybe it was less his words and more the way he looked at me as he spoke them. His lips were parted and glistening, eyes half lidded, dark lashes fluttered.

I kissed him again. “Okay.” I was on my back in seconds, giggling a little at his fervor. Pietro’s kisses dipped around my jaw, travelling down my neck but taking their sweet time on their journey, imprinting himself on each crevice of my flesh that was revealed to him. At first, I was nervous that being on my back would trigger a panic reaction, but as his mouth mapped a scorching path between my breasts, the red room was the furthest thing from my mind. I watched as he parted my legs, mind whirring and heart thrumming rhythmically against my sternum. I felt hot all over, flushed and powerless in a way that I craved. It was a feeling no one had ever sparked in me. My legs were trembling already and my chest heaved as he peeled the leggings from me at an excruciating pace before settling between my legs, head dipping to nip at my inner thigh. I gasped at the sting feeling his lips upturn as he kissed the place he’d bitten.

“Remember when you used to pretend you hated me?” I glanced down to see him peering up at me, shit-eating grin on his face. “Because I do.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “What a perfect time to talk about this.”

He snickered. Pressing another kiss to my thigh, fingers digging into the flesh a little. I bit my lip, working hard to not cant my hips up toward him. “I remember it very well. You were such a little shit, sauntering into training in those tight little outfits and being so mean to me. Do you have any idea how badly I wanted you? How hard it was to have you talk so much shit to me every day and not be able to do anything about it.”

“Are you going to keep on talking or are you going to finally do something about it?” The smirk that crossed his lips was positively devious, eyes darkening as he took my panties in his hand, a tearing sound following. The ruined fabric clutched in his hand before he threw it over his shoulder. “I liked those, you idiot.”

He only smiled at me, parting my legs again and falling between them. He pressed a kiss to my pelvis, rendering me completely speechless. He sent me one more gentle look before his mouth was on me and all thoughts simultaneously drained from my head. My legs snapped shut instinctively but he caught them, prying them open once more, not parting from me for even a moment. I threw my head back, mouth falling open as pleasure flooded through me. It had never felt like this before. Only one other person had done this to me, and I’d never been more uncomfortable but when it was Pietro everything was different. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even function. It was like being struck by lightning.

Sounds fell from my lips that I didn’t think I was capable of making as he licked and sucked hard on the bundle of nerves. He hummed against me, the noise pleasure-filled and completely content. I bit down on my bottom lip hard as my hips canted upward. He laid his arm over my pelvis, holding me still whilst reaching up to grab my hand and intertwine our fingers. I fisted the duvet in my free hand. “Fucking hell, Pietro.” I barely managed to get the words out. The sound that left him resembled a snort, but I didn’t have it in me to be annoyed when he was making me feel like this. He lifted his head from me, bringing our conjoined hands to his mouth and kissing my knuckles before letting go. With his free hand he kneaded the flesh of my thigh, pressing a gentle kiss against my clit that had me shuddering. His fingers smoothed down my leg and along the place where his mouth had been. My heart rate picked up again. I used my free hand to grip the sheets by my head, biting down hard on my bottom lip as Pietro doubled down in his efforts.

“Just relax.” He hummed against me. I hadn’t even realized how tense I was. “You can let go; I’ve got you… I’m never going to let anything happen to you, just let go.”

When it began, I was momentarily immobilized. Every nerve ending was blown to pieces and my eyes rolled back. I was faintly aware of Pietro grabbing my legs to keep them open, his lips remaining attached to me as the sensations ravaged my body. Tears formed in my eyes from the immenseness of the pleasure.

My chest rose and fall frantically as I attempted to catch my breath, Pietro beginning to kiss a path back up my body and when my eyes met his again, he was positively beaming.

He kissed me softly giving me a taste before pulling back to speak. “Glad we cleared that up.”

I laughed pushing my hair back out of my face. His fingertips caressed the flesh of my cheek as he laid against me. “Just give me a minute then we can go on.”

His smile grew as he brushed his nose over my cheek. “You’re tired, I am too. Let’s just go to sleep.”

“But what about you?”

“I already told you, all I want is to be with you.” He kissed me again. “Plus, I’m not planning on disappearing anytime soon.”

What had happened at the tree farm was still heavy on my mind as I laid beside Pietro, even with the very distracting events that had just taken place. These strange visions didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon, in fact they seemed to have gotten worse since Sokovia. They didn’t make any sense to me, the song that I kept hearing, the unrecognizable voices that spoke to me, the man in the glasses. It all seemed so disconnected and yet it was as though my body, my mind was trying so desperately to tell me something in a language I didn’t understand. I figured that this was one of those things Anna and Natasha would berate me for keeping to myself but sharing it with anyone seemed unthinkable until I’d somewhat figured out their cause.

In the morning, sunlight filtered into the room through the little crevice where the curtains didn’t quite cover the window, prompting me to turn away. I reached my arm out to feel the cold empty spot that had once been occupied. When my eyes opened, I found myself in the same hotel room as last night, only there was no Pietro. I sat up, rubbing my eyes before pushing myself up out of the warm bed. I collected my now dry clothes from the backs of the chairs and dressed before approaching the front door. A glance outside solved the missing Pietro issue as I watched him get out of the car that had been stuck in the snow now, coffee in hand. I narrowed my eyes at him as he approached, smiling at me when our eyes met.

“For you.” He spoke, offering the cup to me. My eyes travelled between it and the car.

“How?”

He gestured for me to take the coffee. A sip of the beverage warmed me from the inside out, or maybe that was just the way he was looking at me. “I have my ways.” He murmured.

…

“I bought you something.” Pietro held out something brown and plastic that was mostly covered by his hands.

Upon closer inspection I quickly realized what it was, the corner of my mouth tugging upward slightly. I looked from the chocolate custard to him, questioningly. “How did you know I like these.”

“I saw Anna bring them for you when you were hurt after Sokovia, and again after Amsterdam.” I smiled down at the sealed snack, my face flushing slightly. “I figured it could be dessert.”

“Dessert?”

He took a step closer to me, lifting my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m cooking for us tonight.”

“Good luck keeping it just us.” I laughed. The corner of his lips upturned as he began collecting the ingredients from the fridge. I raised an eyebrow at him. “You did not tell them, did you?” He shrugged. “They are never going to let us live this down, you know that right?” As much as I tried to find it in me to scowl, a smile managed to break through. I wandered aimlessly behind him, attempting to find a way to help him, eventually picking up some of the vegetables he had out to begin washing them.

“Hey, none of that! I told you; I’m cooking for you.”

“But it will be quicker if I help.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m not going to change my mind, sit down and let me do this for you.”

“I don’t need you to do it for me.”  Before I could protest any further the tools were taken from me and my feet were off of the ground as Pietro slipped me onto the countertop, planting a firm kiss on my head.

“All you need to do is sit there and look pretty.” He spoke, causing me to roll my eyes at him. “You’re a natural already.” His words were as they often were, a little teasing and brimming with sweetness.

Soft music began filling the room then, courtesy of F.R.I.D.A.Y. I’d guess. Pietro hummed along to it, dancing his way back over to the stove and adding an array of items to a hot pan. I watched his every move, studying as I often did. His hair fell over his forehead as he looked down, a little messy as always but I thought he looked best like this, natural, unpolished. The muscles in his for arms tensed slightly as he chopped the beef. I had no idea what he was making but it wasn’t long before a mouth-watering smell filled the kitchen. He sent me numerous sidelong smiles, eventually bringing me a glass of white wine and pressing kiss to my lips.

“Did your mother teach you to make this too?” His blue eyes glinted with something unreadable as they fell on me then. “You told me she taught you to make goulash, did she teach you to make this too?”

He smiled, gaze lingering on me for a long moment before it returned to the pan before him. “She taught me to make a lot of things, but not this. I’ve actually never made this before.” The first hint of nervousness was evident in his voice then. I strained to try and see what was in the pan, onions and beef, I couldn’t make out the rest.

“What is it.” He moved to stand between my legs, prompting me to widen them to accommodate him. One of his hands sat on my hip, the other resting on the counter beside me.

“You’ll see.”

I attempted to bite back my smile, raising my eyebrows at him. “How very mysterious of you.” When we kissed then it was searing, branding me in every way. I ran my fingers through his soft hair, committing the way his lips felt to my memory. He was leaving tomorrow he and Sam were heading somewhere in South America for a search and rescue mission. I was blurry on the details, too focused on the prospect of Pietro being in harms way. Of course, I’d never voice those concerns to anyone, but they’d been rampant on my mind since the moment he told me he was going. It wasn’t as though he’d never been in danger on a mission before, the difference was I’d always been there to make sure he got back in one piece. I’d never worked with Same before, come to think of it, I barely ever really knew him outside of the fact that cap trusts him. Even though I reminded myself that I trusted Steve’s judgement wholeheartedly, my skin still crawled. “Do you trust Sam?”

“Really? You’re thinking about another man while I’m kissing you?” I ignored his taunt. Chewing the inside of my cheek as I thought about every interaction I’d had with the man. “You don’t need to worry about me.” He played with a strand of my hair, twirling it and eventually tucking it behind my ear. “I really, really like that you do, but everything is going to be fine.”

“So, you trust him?”

“I trust you.” Our eyes met again. “And I know that, normally, when you aren’t overthinking, you trust Sam.” His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, and he brought his other hand up to rub along my forearm that rested on his shoulder. “I’m a big boy, I can look after myself. Although, it is very hot when you get all protective.”

I rolled my eyes at him, snorting at his antics. His attention was soon drawn back to the meal he was preparing when the pot of water began boiling.

Before me Pietro placed a plate of pasta with a rich creamy sauce over it. I inspected my plate carefully, leaning in to take a whiff of the beefy smell. “What is it?” I asked, swirling my fork through the dish.

“Beef stroganoff.”

I paused momentarily, a smile tugging at my lips. “Where are the potatoes?” I teased, glancing back down at the plate.

Pietro smiled sheepishly at me. “Well, I wanted to make you something Russian, but I read that pasta is a romantic food.”

“You read that? Where?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before looking back down at his own place, a pink tinge taking over his cheeks as he muttered something almost incoherent. Almost. “I googled it.”

“You googled romantic foods?”

He nodded slowly, still looking down at his plate, his cheeks reddening even more. A warm feeling filled the pit of my stomach as I watched him. I slid my hand across the table placing it over the top of his and using my thumb to rub back and forth. Then, I picked up my fork once more and dug in, finishing every bit of the meal he’d made me, only stopping when the plate was clear, and Pietro was no longer embarrassed.

…

I found myself unable to sleep that night, even as I lay there full and content, my mind refused to shut off. One would think with the amount I’d tossed and turned my body would have worn itself out, yet still, as darkness blanketed the compound and F.R.I.D.A.Y. fed quiet city sounds into my room, I laid wide awake.

Moonlight filtered in through the windows that lined the corridor as I snuck quietly through the compound, bathing my flesh in smooth silver light. I hesitated as my hand hovered over the door, feeling slightly foolish. The thought occurred to me that knocking might wake someone else up, inevitably leading to teasing that I’d rather not contend with. I lowered my hand slightly, considering simply returning to my room and forcing myself to sleep, yet just as my hand was about to drop to my side the door swung open, and a mess of silver hair was revealed to me. Pietro rubbed at his eyes for a second as if attempting to decipher if he was dreaming, he looked warm in his long cotton pajama pants and dark blue t-shirt. He was warm, I realized as took a hold of my hand, tugging me over the threshold and into his arms. We laid together, neither of us uttering a single word, Pietro’s arms wrapped around me, enveloping me in him. And there, with only the sound of his steady breath beside my ear, I fell asleep.

Chapter Text

“Balance, poise, precision. These are the qualities of a good dancer just as they are for a widow.” The leotard was so tight it felt as though it was going to crush my ribcage, but I kept spinning, never lowering from pointe. “But in the perfect dancer this is not enough. In the perfect dancer there is innate skill, that which cannot be learned but which lives within in us when we are born.”

In but a second the hard wood beneath my feet was gone and I was tumbling to the ground. When I looked up the barre was gone, so was Saskia. Now there were men with suits all around, the cold marble floors dug into my knees and then I saw a familiar face. It was the boy who’d appeared to me so often over these last few months, but he wasn’t talking to me now, instead he was in a heated discussion with someone I couldn’t see. I watched carefully as the young boy’s face contorted with outrage. He ran a hand through his hair, spitting out words that appeared venomous though I couldn’t hear them. I moved slowly to my feet, looking around to see a building I didn’t recognize, it was sleek and filled with people in bespoke suits. When I turned around again that boy was before me, his lips moving, though I could not hear what he was saying. He stepped closer, repeating his words over and over, it was the same words I realized, almost as if addressing me, attempting to get my attention, though I didn’t recognize what he was saying. He reached out toward me and the second his hand landed on my shoulder a deafening ringing sounded in my ears. I covered them with my palms to block out the maddening sound, my eyes shutting tightly.

When they reopened, I was no longer in the strange building, nor with Saskia in the ballet studio. The walls were sterile white, and I was strapped down to a cold metal chair. The ringing lessened, slowly fading into nothingness, though the sensation remained in my ears. A new sound began then, swelling gently into the area – classical music, I realized. Something was placed over my eyes by gloved hands. “Tell me who you are.” I heard a voice speak, German accent abundant in each syllable. I could feel my mouth moving but all I could hear was the music as it grew louder. Suddenly the bespectacled man entered my line of sight, adjusting large black glasses before beginning to fiddle with something on my head. I blinked and suddenly all I could see was a stage with a solitary ballerina in the center.

I sat upright abruptly in bed when I awoke. Rubbing the heels of my palms into my eyes in an attempt to rid myself of the strange dreams. The cold air that enveloped me as soon as I stood had me clinging to the dark blue sweater I wore. It smelt like Pietro and as odd as it seemed to me, I found it comforting.

He’d been gone for 4 days now, only able to check in on the first day before he and Sam went off the grid, the only point of communication now was comms which were being monitored in shifts by the team. Most days, I barely left the comms room. It confused me still, the way I was so undeniably concerned for Pietro’s welfare, but at the same time it was nice to have something else to focus on other than the visions that were plaguing me. They’d been getting worse since the Christmas tree farm, and it was becoming rather irritating. Sometimes it was in my dreams, others it was at random moments during my day, occasionally prompted but often they would just happen. It made no sense to me what was bringing them on and how I could stop them.

Pietro being gone was easy to focus on. It was strange sitting at meals without him, quiet, uncomfortably so. “You know he’s going to be fine.” Natasha spoke the words she had already said a million times by now. I nodded, not meeting her eyes. Instead, I focused on the newspaper that was before me, busying myself with reading the articles so she’d stop pestering me. “It’s normal to worry about him, it shows you care.”

“I’m fine.”

“You are so annoying.”

The corners of my mouth quirked up and I offered her a short glance before looking back down at the paper and flipping it over. “I’d just rather he didn’t die.”

“How sweet of you.”

I snickered at her response, yet all amusement left my body as I read the headline of the newspaper. Printed in large black letters above a black and white image of the ruins of a city.

‘Who’s to blame for Sokovia?’

Without a second thought I tore it to shreds, ignoring Natasha’s bewildered stare as I swept the pieces into the garbage. “He will be fine; the mission will be a success and he won’t die.” I spoke in absolutes, hands fisted tightly at my sides as I left the room. I repeated it like a mantra to myself for the rest of the day, even as I lay in bed waiting for sleep to come; and when it did the woman returned. Bracelets jingling against each other, hand smoothing over my hair, soft humming filling my ears. It wouldn’t stop, like it was haunting me.

In the early hours of the next morning, I meandered down to the labs with a sneaking suspicion that Tony would be tinkering. Just as I’d suspected, he was standing by a half-built suit, moving wires around under the armor. I sipped the coffee in my hands, watching him work quietly.

“Jesus Christ!” He exclaimed when he turned, almost jumping out of his skin. “You know it’s bone-chilling how easily you sneak up on people.” I merely smiled to myself at his dramatic tone, looking over his latest project. It was midnight blue and silver, not as bulky as the iron man suit, more of a skin with a hard chest plate. “It’s only a beta, I’m working on the resistance to speed and velocity, but he’ll need to try it on for me to be sure.”

I ran my hand over the hard shoulder shell, circling the hanging suit. “He’ll be so happy.”

“Yeah well… Figured it was time for him to trade in the rookie suit.”

A small laugh fell from my lips. “This is definitely an upgrade.”

“Speaking of which, you could probably use one too.”

I shook my head. “My suit gets the job done; I don’t need all this fancy shmancy tech stuff.” He wiped his hands on a rag, meeting my eyes as I continued. “I have the skill that your padding makes up for.”

Tony rolled his eyes at my taunt. “Oh well then, I guess you wouldn’t be interested in the fancy shmancy new suit that I already built you.” He pressed a panel on the wall, and it slid out, revealing a glass case. My lips parted as I took a step closer.

The suit was jet black, there were bits and bobs attached that I assumed were all sorts of equipment Tony had thought up, but it wasn’t bulky. It looked like a second skin, just the way I liked it, however, there were hard shells across it, armor that didn’t stick out. It covered the abdomen, shoulders, and chest. A closer glance revealed lines that ran along the suit in some kind of pattern, almost like veins through the center. I traced over them. “What are they?”

“Here.” Tony did something to the sleeve of the suit and suddenly the veins lit up, crimson red. He revealed a button that would attach to my palm if the suit was on. “It works like the widow’s bite shockers, but it’s built in, so you’ll still have the wrist attachment to stun at long range but this way you can become the shock piece. When you hit the button, you can use it. It’s all apart of the suit, so now, you can control the red.”

My mouth dried up as I stared at him. I didn’t know what to say, all I could do was look between him and the perfect suit, startled by his attention to detail. “Tony…” I looked back at the suit.

“Plus, I added in extra blade-resistant shelling, figured you could do with getting stabbed a little less.” His tone was light now, nonchalant. He was trying to play it off, act like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Thank you… It’s perfect.” He didn’t meet my eyes, fiddling with a few spare parts that were scattered across the table. “Where did you learn to do all of this?” I hoped the question would dissolve the strangeness between us.

He shrugged, glancing at the suit he was building for Pietro. “My dad was a scientist, and his work was his life. I’m not sure if the interest was innate or just a thing I started because it gave us something in common.” I nodded in response, running my fingers over the fabric of my new suit. Silence sat between us for a long few moments, not inherently uncomfortable, however, I could feel that Tony had something he wanted to ask, words on the tip of his tongue.

“Go ahead.”

“Do you remember anything about your parents?”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure I ever knew them. Judging by the lack of memories, I’d say its likely.” As I spoke, I chose to ignore the inescapable images that plagued me. That and the nagging feeling at the back of my mind.

“Do you miss them?” I blinked at him. “That’s probably a stupid question, right?”

“You mean to say do I wish I knew them; you just don’t want to ask because it sounds rude.” Tony didn’t respond verbally to that, a sheepish look on his face. “It’s fine, you don’t have to beat around the bush. To me, this is normal, I don’t remember ever knowing any different.” I took a beat then. Looking down at my hands as I wrung out my fingers. “I think… there was a time when I wondered what it felt like. I suppose I wished just to know what it was like to have parents, fully.”

He nodded but did not immediately speak. “That makes sense.” A beat. “Thanks.”

I snorted. “For what?”

“I have no idea it just felt like the right thing to say.”

“You’re very strange when emotions come out.”

He grumbled and went back to his work. I watched him, actually a little fascinated by what he was doing. My chin landed in my palm as I settled in. He held a pointed metal wand in one hand and a wire in the other. His eyes flickered up to me for a moment. “Do you want to try?” I was shocked by his offer, glancing between him and the parts. Eventually, I nodded gently and rounded the bench. He handed the metal wand to me. “I’m just soldering that wire to the main board; you just hold the tip of the iron to the wire and receiver, and it will melt them together.” I followed his instructions carefully, watching the silver melt down and join. “Well, don’t do it that well, I still need to have a use around here.” I rolled my eyes, lifting the wand from the metal board. As I continued, Tony began explaining to me how connecting the wire helped the suit function.

A piece of hair fell into my eyes causing me to blink as I touched the tip of the iron to the main board again. For just a split second I was gone.

Smaller hands held the very same tool, but I was in a different room.

When I blinked again, I was back, Tony’s voice filling my ears. I swallowed heavily, gripping the iron tightly and touching it to the wire again.

Stars shining bright above you.

Night breezes

Night

The sycamore tree.

Dream a little… night breezes seem to whisper, “I love you.”

“Nadia, be careful!” The words were like a shock to my system and when I was present once more Tony was watching me with a wide-eyed gaze. I pulled my arm back to avoid my bare finger making contact with the soldering iron. “Do you know how hot that thing is, kid? You could have given yourself a third-degree burn.” My head was frazzled, and I felt dazed looking from the iron to the man before me. “What happened, you disappeared on me for a second.”

I shook my head, as if the movement would clear it. “Sorry. I’m just tired, I haven’t been sleeping well.” It was half-true I supposed. Tony didn’t look convinced, but I merely turned from him and swiftly approached the exit of the lab.

It seemed, even during my waking hours, I couldn’t escape it.

“It’s getting worse than before.” I muttered into the phone.

Anna hummed. “Perhaps it’s the stress?” She was the only one I’d ever really confided in about my strange dreams, and even then, I couldn’t bring myself to unload every detail of them. “You’ve been so worried about Pietro, maybe that’s bringing it out.”

“But what even is ‘it’?” I spoke, frustration evident in my tone. “I don’t even know what I’m seeing.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to talk to someone about it.”

I sighed. “I am talking to someone. You.”

“Nadia.” Her tone was firm, scolding almost. “You know what I mean, a professional.”

She’d barely gotten the words out before I was protesting. “You know how I feel about shrinks; I’m not going to talk to some stranger with a notebook about my feelings.”

Her laugh sounded down the line, though I could hear the tightness, she was frustrated. “I’m aware, dear. You’ve made your feelings on the matter very clear. I don’t necessarily mean a therapist but someone who understands the human brain.”

I knew she was right, as she often was. Yet, I made no immediate endeavors to seek out a professional, not quite ready to face that. Whether I was lacking confidence in anyone’s ability to understand the inner workings of my mind, unwilling to trust another person with them or simply not ready to face the truth behind my visions, I was unsure.

So, I simply chose to focus on something else.

“Any signs of life?” Agent Hill spoke as we watched the footage from Sam’s body cam.

“None. Yet.” He responded. Suddenly Pietro appeared, moving to eye-level with the camera and tapping it obnoxiously. “Dude, you don’t need to do that, it’s on.” Sam spoke exasperatedly, slapping the other man’s hands away. I bit back a laugh as Pietro smiled sheepishly at him.

“I knew that.” He waved at the camera before turning back to the path ahead of them. The two of them were in a dimly lit tunnel, that was supposed to lead them underneath the property where the target was being held, the target being some man of importance and a few dozen files. It was a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission, hence the vague details. “This is very boring so far; search and rescue makes it sound so cool.”

“What don’t you find wading through half flooded sewers fun?” I taunted over the comms. I watched Pietro freeze slightly from Sam’s body cam. He glanced back over his shoulder, lips upturned.

“Well, hello, Nadia.” Just the sound of his voice had goosebumps rising over my flesh. “And I can think of several things that are far more fun than this. Funnily enough a good amount of them involve you.”

I scoffed at him rolling my eyes and working very hard to ignore the flush that rose over my chest, spattering across my neck and making my body warm considerably.

“Jesus, we get it, you’re into her. Spare us.”

Pietro’s snickering could be heard clearly over the comm. “Just keep moving, idiots.”

“Wait hold on.” Sam spoke up again, putting his arm out to stop Pietro from continuing. My skin prickled. “Do you hear that?” I held my breath as they both fell deathly silent, listening. In the eerie quiet, I heard it; ticking.

Sound erupted through the comms, so loud I had to yank the small device from my ear. Yellow and red flickered across the screen before it fizzled and became black. When I put the comm back in my ear there was muffled yelling covered with crackling static.

“Sam, come in.” Maria spoke, clicking the connecting buttons and repeating herself again and again. “Pietro, Sam, can you hear us?” Eventually the static dissipated and so did the voices, the screens now showing a bright red alert.

‘Connection lost’

I shook my head, tapping the comm to reconnect but each time it was the same response, no connection. Shooting up from my seat, I began to pace the room. “What the fuck?”

“Searching for their heat signatures now.” Maria said, typing rapidly.

Moving down to the front of the room, I stared at the large screen before me that was now completely black. Maria was muttering behind me, but I didn’t spare her a glance, focused wholly on the screen.

When silence continued to fill the room, I turned back to Agent Hill. “Well?” 

It was evident that Maria was attempting to keep her expression neutral, though for me, her concern was plain. “Did you find a heat signature? Agent Hill?” She remained silent, narrowing her eyes and beginning to type quicker. “Maria.” When she met my gaze, I had my answer. “Fuck this.” I spoke, turning to approach the door.

I barely made it a few steps before Tony was in front of me with his hands out, stopping me. “Get out of my way.”

“Not a chance. Not when you’re about to go and do something stupid.” 

I glared at him. “What do you think I should just let them die in that tunnel?”

“I understand that you want to protect him, kid.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t fucking patronize me, Stark.”

The expression on his face remained steadfast, never faltering, despite my harsh words “I’m not. If the comms have gone offline it’s likely something is interfering with the other tech too, that’s why there’s no heat signatures. I’m telling you to take beat.”

I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. He was watching me carefully, awaiting my next move. Another glance at the blank screen that once had Pietro’s smile on it had me sidestepping Tony and making for the door once more. A hand wrapped around my wrist, not aggressive or threatening. Firm, but gentle. I whipped around and everything changed.

There was dark hair and brown eyes that softened as they gazed at me. A flash of lips moving with jumbled words.

But in your dreams whatever they be…

I yanked my arm from Tony’s grasp, blinking rapidly to clear my mind as the room began to spin. A loud static noise filled my ears, followed by a familiar voice.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Pietro registered across the comms, a little distorted. My heart stuttered and I felt frozen to my spot.

“Pietro! Yes, we can hear you, do you hear us?” Maria responded.                           

The screen was still blank, but his voice continued to clear over the receiver. “Yes, but there’s a lot of static.”

“Was there an explosion before?”

Sam’s voice came through then. “Yeah, they blew up the end of the tunnel, but we’re both fine, Pietro got us out. We lost you guys for a bit there.”

Hill continued to debrief with Sam over the comms asking about their progress, but my heart was thumping in my chest still, and I was so aware of it that my body was beginning to panic, head spinning, hands clammy. It felt like the walls were closing in on me, suffocating me, crushing my bones. I shoved the door open, stepping out of the room quickly. The second I did red flashed across my eyes.

Sweet dreams ‘til sunbeams find you…

“The mission isn’t complete.”

I was small.

There was a gun in my hands.

I didn’t want to do it.

“Finish it, Nadia.”

I clutched my head, pushing along the wall and blinking rapidly to free myself from the memory.

“It’s your purpose.”

There was blood all over me. In a dark room with a mirror, General Obolensky held a gun to my head. He pulled the trigger, and I didn’t move, didn’t even blink. Dreykov smiled at me from the corner of the room.

“It’s not real.” I chanted, squeezing my eyes shut tightly.

I’m longing to linger ‘til dawn…

Fading… fading… linger on dear…

“You can’t tell dad he’ll be so mad at us for filling up before dinner.”  

A tug on one of my plaits.

The sun was warm, dappling the pavement through the trees that lined the street. There were steps in front of me.

The boy was there, jumbled, inaudible words and all. He tightened my backpack strap; he must be talking to me.

“…bug.”

Then it was the man in the glasses, poking and prodding me. “Tell me who you are.”

Finally, I reached the door I’d been searching for, pushing it open to feel fresh, cold air envelope me. Icy snowflakes nipped at my exposed flesh, but it was a welcome relief. I gasped into the open air, letting my head fall back as the images finally dissipated into nothingness on the air.

Chapter Text

I picked at my nails nervously. My feet seemed to move of their own volition, and I realized then that I was pacing the floor. The sound of the roof opening stopped me in my tracks as the jet was lowered into the cavernous room. I watched through the glass for a moment, eyes peeled as the roof closed and the jet door began to open. Without a second thought, I was through the door and padding toward the huge vehicle. Pietro’s silver hair appeared as he began to descend the stairs, lips upturning when he met my gaze. He was before me in the blink of an eye, hand coming up slowly to cradle my cheek.

“Hello, Prinţesă.”

I raised a solitary eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“I am tired, and everything hurts, are you really going to play cold and make me beg?”

A little smile tugged at my lips but despite myself I took a little step closer to him, leaning my head into his hand. “Are you okay.”

“I am now.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead; the sensation warmed me inside and out. He pressed a second kiss against the flesh right before my ear. “And just for the record… I would have begged for you.” I rolled my eyes smiling at him as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear before pressing a soft kiss against my lips.

“What, no hug and kiss for me?” Sam taunted as he stepped off the jet.

The look Pietro sent him over his shoulder had the man raising his hands in defense and snorting a laugh. “What did you get up to whilst I was gone?”

My smile faltered at his words. The nightmares had only gotten worse, the strange visions during the days, I worried that they would interfere with my ability to partake in missions if they progressed any further. I forced a small smile, shrugging at him. “Nothing interesting.”

He smiled back at me, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, he knew something was wrong. “Well, I missed you.” I wiggled my eyebrows at him, turning and beginning toward the next room. “Even if you won’t say it back because you’re too tough, I’ll still tell you how much I missed you. Because I did.” I shot him a look over my shoulder. “I missed that look especially, I missed your pretty face and how funny you find my jokes…” As much as I attempted to bite back a snort, a quiet part of it broke through. I could feel Pietro hot on my heels as he continued to reel off all the things, he missed about me. “I missed your eyerolls and how irritated you pretend to be with me, and when you say mean things to me in Russian.”

I turned back to him, smirking slightly. “I don’t say mean things about you.”

“Liar.” He poked my cheek. “Oh, and by the way I googled that thing you called me the other day, and I was right. It was mean.”

“I’m very sorry, I won’t say it again. Besides, I have plenty of other names to call you.”

He ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “I bet you do.” I opened my mouth to spit a retort at him, but his lips were on mine before I could get the words out. “In fact, I’d rather like to hear some of those names now.” He walked us backward in the direction of his bedroom causing me to laugh yet again.

“You have to debrief with Cap.”

The groan he let out was so childlike it could more accurately be described as a whine. “But I don’t want to.”

I shrugged at him. “I don’t make the rules, Prinţesă.” A smirk spread across his lips at my words, a little pinch meeting my side causing me to swat at his hand. I pushed the strands that had fallen into his face away, he needed a haircut, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like him like this. For a moment I just stood there with him, letting my eyes travel over his face as his arms wound around my shoulders, holding me to him. He had a little white scar just above his eyebrow that I’d noticed before but never thought I’d miss seeing. I had the urge to say his name just because it felt like it had been so long since I’d spoken it. The thought was bizarre to me. It’s just a name, and anyway he’d only been gone for a week. I wasn’t sure I’d ever really needed anyone before, and maybe I didn’t really need him, but I didn’t know what it was like to want someone around so badly until he wasn’t there and all I could do was think about how it had felt when he was. My thumb traced back and forth over one spot on his cheek, it was smooth, and I liked the way it felt. “I missed you too, Pietro.”

His lips upturned, and he pressed another kiss to my lips. “Can you repeat that for me, I need it on video.” I rolled my eyes yet again and shoved him away, biting back my laughter. “Wait, no, come back! I’m sorry!”

…

When I’d finally corralled Pietro into the conference room I parted from him to help Natasha prepare lunch.

“You made sure Loverboy got home safe and sound?”

I sent her a glare over my shoulder and continued chopping. “I was just making sure he wasn’t in multiple pieces.”

She laughed at my words. “You don’t have to lie; I think it’s sweet how much you care about him. I’ve never seen you like that with anyone before, you deserve to have that.”

I was very quiet then, watching my own hand intently as it moved. “You do too.” Before she could respond Sam and Cap entered the room, plopping down at the dining table. Practically before the thought had time to cross my mind I was engulfed by the smell of Pietro as his warm arms wrapped around me. Chest to my back, with his chin resting atop my shoulder.

“What are you making?”

“Soup, I think, I have no idea, I just came in here and the bossy redhead put me to work.”

Nat pointed the knife in her hand at me. “That’s rude, and don’t pretend you weren’t begging to help make food for your speedy over there.”

Pietro snorted, pressing a kiss to the skin of my neck. “You’re very sweet.” He murmured into my ear. “But to be honest I think I might like to eat something else.”

A sharp elbow to his rib had his laughter growing, Cap and Sam glancing over with furrowed eyebrows. “By the way you two, there’s another assignment I’m looking into. You make a good team; I think you’ll breeze through it.”

Pietro pretended to flick some hair over his shoulder. “I do tend to breeze.”

I rolled my eyes heavily at him.

“Please send them as a team, they’re both worried-sick puppies when the other is gone.” Sam groaned. The glare I sent him was glacial, but he merely smiled in response. As the other chuckled.

Pietro barely left my side the rest of the afternoon, sitting right next to me as we ate; not that I was complaining and the third time my knee grazed his he smoothed his hand over the flesh, resting my leg flush against his. Neither of us commented on the contact, but strangely enough it had ease filling me.

That night when darkness bathed my room, and the only sounds were the light cityscapes played by F.R.I.D.A.Y and Pietro soft breaths the fanned over my neck, we still remained close. His arms wrapped tightly around my torso, legs intertwined, his nose nuzzled into the back of my neck. That was how I fell asleep, warm, and held.

Stars shining bright above you.

Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’

“I love you.” A voice hummed, sweeping the hair from my forehead.

The room was white, sterile and I couldn’t move. I glanced around, there was a metal tray filled with medical instruments and a black screen before me. Slowly the screen filled with ballerinas, one step two step, fouetté, pirouette. I shut my eyes tightly, they were burning from the white lights.

Birds singin’ in the sycamore tree…

I was rocking back and forth.

While I’m along and blue as can be…

When my eyes opened again the man was before me in the glasses, he turned my face with two fingers, the strange smoothness of the latex glove making my skin crawl. Something sharp pressed to my neck and then every was black again.

The sound of muffled voices reached my ears, then clattering like objects being thrown and furniture upturned. When the door opened it was so bright, I had to shield my eyes. When they opened again, I was being blinded by different lights. Stage lights. The leotard I wore was suffocating and the tights were scratchy. I danced anyway; Swan Lake was Dreykov’s favorite.

I spun and spun until suddenly arms wrapped around me, yanking me back. With every passing moment I was moving between places. First, I was on stage then the clattering was back and I was being yanked up roughly. I thrashed around in the arms, doing everything to free myself but then I was small again. The lights glinted on a glass statue just before me. I reached so hard it hurt my shoulders, nearly, nearly…

Stars shining bright above you…

“Nadia.”

Birds singin’… Dream a little dream of me…

“Nadia wake up.”

“Nadia!” I thrashed in the arms that held me down, swinging my arms around and kicking my feet out. “Hey, hey, Nadia stop, please.” The voice cut through the music, and then it was familiar hands that held me, gentle as one pushed the hair out of my face and the other held my clenched fists before it could make contact. I followed the path between my hand in his, eyes beginning to burn as I returned fully to consciousness, orienting myself to the familiar room, the familiar sounds, the familiar man before me.

I shook my head, opening my fist instantly. “I’m sorry.” I shook my head again, pulling my hand back to press it into my chest until it hurt. “I’m sorry.” I repeated.

When the hair was out of my face his hand caressed my cheek gently, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead. “Don’t apologize.” I turned my head, unable to meet his eyes. My heart was thrumming against my sternum, the shallow breaths I took not seeming to stick. “Look at me.” I didn’t his hand brought my face back to his. “Nadia, please, look at me.” When I did, I felt a hot tear fall over my waterline, streaming across my temple. “Whatever it was… it was just a dream, it can’t hurt you, Draga mea.” He swiped the tear with his thumb. His finger smoothed down over my cheek and the tip of my nose before dancing over my bottom lip. “It was just a dream.” I squeezed my eyes shut for a second before reopening them and nodding gently at him. He moved to lay beside me once more and I rolled over to face him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I swallowed heavily before shifting ever so slightly closer, further into his warmth. “I feel like I’m losing my mind, Pietro.” He placed his hand on the sheets between us, an offering. I slid my own beneath his, letting him intertwine out fingers. “I keep seeing these things when I’m asleep and when I’m not. I don’t recognize them or know how to make them stop and it’s driving me mad.”

“They’re not things that have happened to you before?”

“If they are…  if they are memories, they’re not mine.”

His hand stroked over my hair, moving down my back in fluid strokes that helped the breaths come a little easier. He didn’t stop once, not until I was fast asleep again, this time with less strange visions and haunting songs.

…

Natasha wrapped her hands slowly, glancing up at me intermittently. I stretched my shoulders and circled my neck around to prepare my muscles. “Maybe you’re remembering vicariously? As in your mind is turning something you’ve heard or seen from someone else into something you experienced.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “It doesn’t really matter what’s causing it I just want it to stop.” I mumbled, tightening the wraps over my knuckles.

“Right… so the thing with that is I’m pretty sure you’re going to have to actually identify the root before you can get rid of the dreams.”

“Thank you so much Dr. Natasha.”

She rolled her eyes without malice. “Anyway smartass, let’s go through the common themes you’re struggling to place.” I sighed exasperatedly moving into a defensive position. “Glasses guy in the white room.” I nodded, throwing a punch that she easily dodged. “The teenage boy…”

“That stupid fucking song.”

“Dream a little dream of me.” There was silence between us for a long moment as I slipped from the hold Nat had been attempting to put me in. “I know that this probably isn’t what you want to hear but are you really certain that these memories aren’t yours.”

The next punch I threw was just slightly harder and Natasha raised an eyebrow at me as she caught it. “They’re not.”

“Nadia… when we met, when you were cycled through the Red Room that first time, you were 5 years old, almost 6.”

“So?’

“So that’s almost 6 years of your life that you don’t remember, years that are unaccounted for.” My heart was beating so quickly in my chest that I was beginning to feel a little faint. “Maybe you should just consider that some of these things your seeing aren’t just ‘visions’ but it’s your brain telling you something.”

I tripped over my own feet as I went to throw another hit, head spinning. The ground was flashing in and out of my vision. “Nads?”

Stars shining bright above you.

I gripped my ears tightly. “No. No. Please not again.”

Birds singing in the sycamore trees.

“We can’t fill up before dinner.”

A yank to a blonde piggy tail

The needle in the latex gloved hand.

The ballerinas and the blinding stage lights.

Swan theme and dream a little dream of me fighting in my subconscious.

“Nadia, are you okay?” I knew the voice but not where it was coming from.

I clutched my head tighter, willing the music to go away. The stage lights blinding me, the leotard cracking my ribs. There were hands on me, poking and prodding me, grabbing at me. I folded myself into a ball.

“It’s not real.” I chanted to myself over and over again. When the music fizzled out and the familiar voices reached me, I let my eyes open. My hands were clasped tightly over my ears, cheek pressed to the mat. My knees were against my chest and Steve was knelt beside me, Tony at his side and Nat opposite them. I took a shaky breath, hands falling to push up off of the ground.

“Just take is slow, Nads.” Steve spoke gently, concern crinkling his eyes at the corners.

I ignored him, moving to my feet swiftly and taking a step back from all of them. “I’m fine.”

Tony moved toward me. “Cap’s right, just take a breather, kid.” My heart was racing so fast it was hurting, the air felt too dense to fill my lungs and I needed to get out of this room before the walls swallowed me whole. I made it a single step out the door before I heard Tony again, following quickly behind me. “Nadia, slow down.” I continued to ignore him, but this didn’t seem to deter him in the slightest. “Where are you even going? You can’t run away from whatever it is that’s going on in your head. What’s that saying, wherever you go, there you are.”

I stopped abruptly in my tracks turning to face him. “Just back off!”

“Why? So that you can keep pretending that you’re fine?” His eyebrows rose slightly, his expression still calm and collected as ever, it was intensely irritating. “You haven’t been fine for weeks, Nadia, probably more than that you’ve just gotten shittier at hiding it-”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you too, I’m trying to help you, dumbass. Clearly whatever you’re doing isn’t working.”

I laughed humorlessly. “I don’t want any help from you, Stark.”

“Really, we’re back to the whole last name thing?”

“You run away from the woman you love and hide out at the compound every time things get a little hard and you’re really telling me I need help?”

He didn’t even flinch. “I thought I already told you that the perpetually jaded thing doesn’t work on me, I invented that move.”

I rolled my eyes, turning away from him. My stomach was churning, mind whirring with the things I could say to him to make him walk away, the number of cruel and unremorseful words I could throw at him to make him give up, but then my throat seemed too tight to speak. My mind wouldn’t let the words pass from my brain to my tongue and we seemed to have reached an impasse. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes so tightly it took them a long while to readjust. “I’m fine, my head is just a little muddled right now, I just need to get some extra sleep, and everything will be fine.” My voice was even, a calmness that had been practiced.

Tony was silent for a long moment behind me, yet the air was thick with unspoken words. “That assignment cap was talking about… I think you should sit it out.”

Every muscle in my body tensed. “That isn’t your decision to make.” It was simple, no room for argument in my tone and I was leaving the hallway before Tony could find a response.

I didn’t even know where I was going, my feet seemed to have a mind of their own. The only clear objective being to get away from Tony and the look in his eyes. The moment I rounded the corner leading to the front entrance I collided with another person. Warm hands steadied me, sweet, brilliant blue eyes gazing down at me adoringly. “You missed me that much?”

His smile dissipated when he noticed the tension that must have been evident on my features. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, it wasn’t until I ran a hand through my hair that I realized how shaky I was.

“I just… ah…” I swallowed heavily, looking at the ground. His hands encased my cheeks, one large palm on either side of my face, guiding me to look at him, my eyes were stinging, and I hated how weak it made me feel as I stood before him, barely able to meet his eyes. “I can’t think straight, and I had one of those stupid episodes in front of the others and now they all think I’m losing it and I’m starting to agree.”

The furrow between his eyebrows increased as he regarded me. “No one thinks that, because it’s not true.”

My heart rate picked up and the stinging in my eyes increased tenfold. “What if it is?” I barely managed to get out, shutting my eyes tightly again and tilting it back to stop any tears from escaping my waterline. My lungs burned as I held my breath tightly.

“It isn’t.” I kept my eyes shut still not breathing, if I could just tighten my grip, hold onto the reins slightly more firmly, everything would be fine. I just needed to get ahold of myself. “Nadia, please look at me.” He murmured, tapping two of his fingers gently against my cheek. When I kept my eyes closed, I felt him take my hand from my side and press it flat to the warmth of his chest above his heart. “Breathe. Please, you’re not going to lose it, I won’t let you. Even if your mind goes dark and traps you, I’ll still be here to bring you back. I promise. Just take a breath.” His heartbeat was steady beneath my palm and still I held my breath. “Nadia, let me in. Let me help you, give me some of the weight. I knew you when I kissed you the first time and I still chose to stick around, I’m still here and I’m begging you to let me in.” His forehead pressed to mine.

I felt a stream of liquid slip down my cheek, and I gripped his hand tightly, focusing on the constant, rhythmic thuds. There, in his embrace after almost too long I exhaled. I cracked an eye open and took a slow step forward into his space, letting him envelope me in his arms.

In the early hours of the morning, I laid with my head pressed to Pietro’s chest, eyes barely open surrounded by the darkness allowed by blackout blinds of his room. The steady thump of his heart kept me there, in that moment, for that I was immensely grateful to him. His breaths lengthened and his muscles began to tense as he stretched and woke. With his eyes still closed he hand moved over my back and then down again, slow, tender. I pressed my cheek further against him, giving into the comfort he offered. Eventually his hand moved to run through the strands of my hair. “How did you sleep.”

“Well, I actually slept. So that is a start.”

His arm wrapped around me, coating my body in his warmth. “There is nothing wrong with you, Nadia. Whatever is happening to you we will figure out. Us. Together.”

I glanced up at him, resting my chin on my arm. “I do not understand why you would want to take on my crazy on top of everything else…”

He only smiled down at me adoringly. “You still don’t get it. That is all I have wanted from the beginning.” I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. My hand moved to rest over his forearm that laid on the bed and I settled against him once more. “I very comfortable right now and I can tell you are too, but I’m afraid I will starve to death if I don’t eat something in the next 5 minutes.”

I snickered slightly. “Glutton.” I taunted.

“Is that right?” Before I could respond, he’d flipped us both over and pinned my hands above my head. I laughed at his antics. “Say you’re sorry.”

“For what?”

The corners of his lips were upturned as much as he attempted to appear stern with his furrowed eyebrows. “For being so mean to me.”

I smiled at him. “I don’t think I’m mean to you.” The words were a little breathy and I tilted my head toward him as I spoke, tempting, and not a moment of it was unintentional. Pietro’s eyes darted to my lips at when my tongue peaked out to wet them slightly. His grip loosened a little on my wrists as he drew closer. When his nose grazed mine, I couldn’t help the little smirk that formed across my lips. “You are so easy to distract.”

“Temptress.” He muttered, pecking my lips slightly. His lips had barely left mine when he descended again, kissing the smirk off of me. My hand moved to run through the strands of his hair, tugging slightly as his released one of my wrists, sliding down to press into my leg and hike it up over his hip.

I let him continue for a few more moment until he was completely lost to the feeling and then I pushed him back. “I wouldn’t want you to go hungry.” I murmured. His eyes narrowed, an incensed look across his features.

“You are a very cruel woman, and this conversation isn’t over, but I am actually very hungry, so I am putting a pin in it.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, biting back a grin. “Right, I look forward to continuing this… conversation when you return.”

He smiled cheekily at me and then he was off, a strand of hair falling into my face at the wind generated by his immense speed. I rolled my eyes, a little smile settling over my lips once more as I laid back down in his bed. My eyes fell closed as I laid, basking in the sudden quiet that filled the room, feeling slightly unnerved by it.

The buzzing of my phone startled me upright but a glance to the side table revealed nothing. I felt around the sheets for the lost phone as the buzzing continued. A string of Russian curses slipping past my lips as I searched, eventually leaning over to drag my hand across the floor. Finally, I found it, lying on the floor just underneath the bed. My position perched over the edge of the mattress allowed me to see the newspaper jammed in between the side table and bed frame. Why would he be reading the newspaper in bed, and more importantly why did it seem like he was trying to hide it? I grabbed the crinkled paper, slipping it out before unfolding it to see the headline. My stomach dropped as I read it.

“Who’s to blame for Sokovia.” The same headline that I’d read days ago, right before shredding the paper and discarding of it. Where the hell had Pietro gotten this from? I supposed it didn’t really matter now, he’d seen it, irrespective of how he’d sourced it.

I let my eyes drag over the words printed beneath the headline.

“Too much power.”

“Unpoliced… out of control”

“A city wiped off the map… the people demand accountability.”

“Maximoff twins wreaked havoc on their home and yet they are celebrated.”

I felt sick and I prayed to whatever god was listening that Pietro hadn’t read this complete nonsense. However, when I looked back up at the sound of footsteps and I saw the expression on his face, I knew he had. His eyes dropped to his feet, and he gripped the plate of fruit in his hands a little tighter. I moved to the side of the bed, throwing the newspaper in the bin on my way to stand before him. “Pietro.” I spoke gently. He sighed deeply, shaking his head the moment the word left my mouth. I said his name again.

“Don’t.”

“It’s all just shit. You know that don’t you?” When he didn’t respond, I took another step closer. “Nothing they wrote in there is true.”

He put the plate down on his drawers, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s true that we wiped Sokovia off the map.”

“Ultron destroyed Sokovia.”

“He did not do it without help.”

I closed my eyes for a long moment and wished I knew what to say, wished I were better at this. Wish I knew how to tell him the things I wanted to. My hand fell over his cheek, thumb brushing back and forth over the stubbled flesh. When my eyes opened, I found his now closed. A tear streaming down his pale cheek. I opened my mouth to speak again but was cut off by the familiar voice of F.R.I.D.A.Y.

“Good morning, Nadia, and Pietro. Mr. Rogers wishes to speak to Nadia in the conference room at her earliest convenience.”  

I sighed. “We are not done talking about this. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He didn’t offer anything in the way of a response, causing my stomach to churn as I slipped from the room. My shoulders were drawn tight with tension as I wandered down the corridor. I couldn’t stop thinking about Pietro. Had he been holding onto what happened all this time. He’d mentioned feeling responsible when we first began training together but that was so long ago now, I’d never even suspected he might still be beating himself up over it. The longer I sat in the worse I felt, had I simply missed it? Was I too concerned with acting like this thing between us didn’t exist to see how affected he was. Once I started, I couldn’t stop and by the time my hand pressed against the door of the conference room I was unable to think of anything else.

Perhaps that was why it was so easy to miss the meaning behind Steve’s words when he began. Why, his long lead in and all the sugar-coating was lost on me as he assured me that he trusted me and told me how apt an agent I’d always proved myself to be. By the time his words processed in my mind it was all just a fog of niceties and padding. Then there was one final sentence, the one that I heard loud and clear.

“I’m reassigning the mission.”

It was like all the air was sucked out of the room. There was an irritating ringing that filled my ears, and I began to feel a little lightheaded. “What?” My voice bounced around the room, ducking in and out of crevices and resounding loudly in my ears.

“Agent Hill will go instead.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This wasn’t possible, there was no realm in which this was a possibility. “I know that you’re not going to be pleased with this decision, and you have every right not to be, but you should also know that this isn’t a personal attack. It is, however, personal. It’s personal because I am your friend and I’m doing this for your own good. You won’t make the call to sit an assignment out. Even when you know you’re not up to it, so I have to make the call for you.”

“So, you’re kicking me off the mission because you don’t trust my judgement?”

“Of course, I trust your judgement. We both know that’s not why this is happening. You won’t put your own safety above work and that’s a problem.”

“Thats what we signed up for.”

“Nadia, your mind is nowhere clear enough to be on assignment right now and I’m not the only one who thinks that. My decision is final and that’s all there is to it.”

I walked out of the room without another word. Each of my movements quiet and swift. My feet moved in a beeline down the corridor and then the stairs. My chest was rising and falling rapidly, no air seeming enough to fill my lungs. The ringing was still in my ears, accompanied by the sound of my heart thudding and blood rushing. The sound of the lab door sliding open had him glancing up at me. A knowing look filled his eyes as he sighed and put his hands up almost defensively. I yanked one of the lab stools back, launching it downward until it slammed against the door. “This is your fucking fault.” I pointed at him.

“Really, how do you figure that?”

“Because you’ve got it in your head that you know something about me, that you have some kind of mystical fucking connection with me that gives you the right to decide whether I’m fit enough to do my job.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure anyone with half a functioning brain cell could see that you aren’t alright.”

“That’s bullshit, all of this is bullshit, you got me kicked off the fucking assignment because you think you’re some kind of brain analyst.”

“Psychologist, but that’s neither here nor there.” His indifference to the rage that threatened to suffocate me only made it worse. I felt itchy with the white-hot feeling beneath my skin, the fury that was running through my veins. I swiped the papers he’d been working on off the lab bench. Grabbing the electrical board next to it and throwing it as well. “Does that make you feel better?” He asked.

“Fuck you!”

He shook his head at me, shrugging slightly. “Get it all out.” I squeezed my hands into fists so tightly I almost expected to break the skin of my palms. He stood from his stool at the bench, rounding in to pick up the things I’d thrown and stow them away out of reach. “You can think I’m an asshole all you want, kid, this is about keeping you safe. I’m hoping at some point after you’ve turned the rage dial down by half you might be able to see that anything I did was out of concern for you.”

“We are not friends, Tony.” He met my eyes when I said that. An unreadable expression on his face. It was as though my brain and body were disconnected, as though something else had control of the words I spat. “We work together and beyond that you can stay the fuck out of my life.”

That was what I left him with, slamming the door of the lab so hard I felt the reverberations through my arm.

Chapter Text

I sat at the breakfast table, turning over a single piece of strawberry with my fork. Pietro was going on assignment in a week, the assignment that we were supposed to be going on together, the assignment that I was taken off of. He didn’t know that yet. I’d tried to tell him more than once, but the timing just never seemed right. He was struggling with the article he’d read in the newspaper and everything it had brought to the surface. I could see it in his eyes, there seemed to be a thin intangible cloud over him now, a shadow over his eyes that hadn't been there before.

The cold metal between my fingers had become warm from the grip I’d maintained around it. Everything felt like it was falling apart and these stupid fucking visions refused to let up. Steve reassigned the mission a week ago and I’d barely slept since I was beginning to think I was incapable of it now. Maybe I’d never sleep again. Most of my time was spent avoiding the others, I’d go to the training room late, when everyone had turned in for the night and I’d eat meals separately. It wasn’t a matter of anger, well not entirely, I just needed to be alone. Pietro had been having more nightmares than usual as well, they were usually about Sokovia but sometimes they were about Strucker’s experimentation. It made my stomach twist and churn, the thought of him being in pain but at least it gave me something else to focus on. When we were talking, or even when I was just listening, I only thought of him and what he felt; it was a nice break.

The sound of the chair across from me scrapping against the floor caught my attention. Dark facial hair filled my line of sight. “So, what now?” I chose to ignore his words. “You’re just never going to speak to me again? Instead, you’ll spend your days skulking around the compound mad at the world?” Anger simmered in me, but I simply looked down at the strawberry that I’d been poking at with my fork. “I’ll be honest, I’m a little disappointed. I know you can do better than the silent treatment.”

“It isn’t the silent treatment; I just have nothing to say to you.”

“Or anyone else it seems.”

I stabbed the strawberry. “Don’t you have a home to go to?”

He shrugged. “Yes actually, I’m going there now, just saying goodbye and all that.”

“Goodbye,” I spoke, not an ounce of warmth in the tone as I stood from my seat and dumped my now empty plate in the sink.

“You’re being very childish right now; it’s not making me regret my decision.” I clenched my hands at my side but before I had the chance to say anything voices filled my head.

“You’re a child.” The word seemed to drip with venom.

I clenched my fist tighter, forcing my feet to move beneath me and carry me from the room. My head felt like it was spinning as the voices continued, muffled, jumbled incoherent but maddening, nonetheless. Flashes of light blinded me; the door was thrown open hands grabbing me. There were gunshots all around me and I could feel the way my heart thumped against my chest. I shook my head, it’s not real. I had to cover my ears because they were so loud. Another pair of hands grabbed me then, shaking me roughly. The covers were being ripped off of me and the light from the door was still blinding me as a large figure loomed over me. I grabbed the side of his neck pulling him down and slamming my knee into his stomach, before elbowing him in the side of the head and falling to the ground to punch him but before I could move my arm was grabbed by someone else within seconds I was pulled from the man. I thrashed in the hold, but they pinned me quickly. It was then that the shouting cleared in my ears, finally coherent. It was a familiar voice, actually more than one. When I opened my eyes, I saw red hair and frantic eyes above me. Nat pinned me down, calling me again and again. My chest was rising and falling rapidly; body still tense. I saw Pietro at her side uninjured, with an immensely concerned expression on his face. When I looked to the side, I saw an unfamiliar man holding out a United States government clearance badge, his other hand covering his nose that was nose pouring blood all over his white button-up. My body loosened, fists unclenching. Jesus Christ, what was wrong with me? When she felt me go limp, Natasha let me go, pulling me to my feet as she stood.  

“Are you okay?” She asked, just as Pietro stepped forward to take my hand.

“What the hell is going on here?!” Steve spoke, emerging from the kitchen flanked by Sam and Tony. I swallowed heavily.

The bleeding man pointed accusingly at me. “She attacked me.”

“You shouldn’t have grabbed her like that!” Pietro immediately snapped stepping in between the agent and me.

“She’s psychotic.” Steve grabbed Pietro before he could launch forward at the man and that was when Tony intervened.

“Let’s all just take a beat here-”

“It was my fault.” I intervened, all eyes on me now. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, glancing at the man who was dabbing at his nose with a handkerchief. He didn’t seem particularly forgiving. I pulled away from Natasha and walked quickly down the corridor.

Pietro was in front of me when I turned the corner, eyes furrowed with concern. “What’s going on, Nadia?”

When I swallowed it, it felt like there were shards of glass in my throat. “Please, I just need to be alone, Pietro.” He furrowed his eyebrows opening his mouth to continue. “I’m okay, or I will be… just let me be alone for a while. That’s what I need. That’s what I want.”

A long moment passed between us, it was evident that he didn’t want to leave me, that turning away was a war for him. “Will you please come and talk to me later?”

I nodded, turning and stopping for a beat, one step in front of him. His fingers grazed mine and I had to walk away, or I wasn’t sure I would.

The door to the study hit the wall when I threw it open, stopping only a few feet into the room.

“I want them gone. I want you to get rid of them.”

Wanda looked at me with slightly wide eyes, a little startled by my abrupt appearance. “Get rid of what?”

“Everything.”

She closed the book then and placed it aside. “Okay.” Her eyebrows were furrowed. I dropped into the chair across from her. “Could you maybe be a little more specific?”

“I don’t understand what I’m seeing but I feel like I’m losing my mind, I want whatever it is gone, if I have to forget it then let’s do that. Whatever it takes just get rid of it.”

It was late when I went to talk to Pietro, part of me expected him to already be asleep, perhaps I’d hoped he would be. I could hear Wanda’s voice echoing through my mind as I walked down the hallway.

“This won’t be easy. I’ve never really done something like this before, so it is going to take a while. I don’t know how to select the root of the things you’re seeing without filing through the rest of your mind.”

Uncertainty was evident in her gaze when I looked at her. “Whatever it takes,” I repeated the phrase to her, the same one I’d been saying to myself over and over.

Pietro wasn’t asleep when I entered the room, though he didn’t look far from it. The circles around his eyes were darker than normal and his eyelids were drooping. He livened up ever so slightly when I entered the room. “You look tired,” I stated plainly, wringing my fingers together.

He shrugged. “I am.” I remained planted in my spot as if he might forget I was there at all if I were still enough. “We still need to talk about what happened; you know I won’t let it go until you tell me what’s going on with you.”

“He just… He got me at a bad time, Tony and I were arguing and then that agent startled me. I shouldn’t have reacted like that but I’m fine.”

“He startled you?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

There was silence for a long while, Pietro’s eyes never leaving me as he assessed each freckle and twitch. “He startled you?”

“That is what I said, Pietro.”  There was no real bite to my tone, despite my words.

“Yes, I know but I think you’re full of shit.” I raised an eyebrow at him, and he ran a hand over his face. “When has anyone ever been able to sneak up on you before? You said it yourself the only reason I’ve ever had the element of surprise with you was because of my enhancement. Now you want me to believe that some idiot in a suit managed to take you by surprise?”

I shrugged at him this time.

“That’s all you have to say, really? He caught you at a bad time, that much is obvious and if it was because he touched you, I’d understand reacting but… but what happened was not you, Nadia.”

“Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

He shook his head. “Don’t start this again. Not tonight, please.” His words were gentle, exhaustion heavy beneath them.

“Fine. You’re right, I’m sorry but I don’t want to talk about this now. I know that is not what you want to hear but that’s the truth. I’m tired and today has been a complete shitshow so I’d really like to just go to sleep and it’s pretty clear that you need the sleep just as much as me.” I crossed my arms over my chest and exhaled deeply. “So, you can either let it go for now and just accept that it was a bad day or stay up and keep festering on it all night, either way I’m going to bed. My bed.”

His jaw tightened and he looked away from me, out toward his window where pale moonlight filtered around the side of his half-open curtains. I was half out the door by the time he spoke again, it was quiet, resigned though there was an undertone of displeasure, perhaps even irritation in it. “Goodnight, Nadia.”

…

My heart was thudding in my ears when Wanda sat down before me. She’d asked me if I was sure no less than 10 times since I’d stepped foot in the study. I told her I was, but there was a small, niggling voice at the back of my mind that seemed to call out to me. Waving its hand frantically to get my attention. She rubbed her hands together for a moment before stopping and looking up at me. “Nadia, are you sure?”

I swallowed heavily, silencing the voice before responding. “It’s fine. Just do it.” Whatever it takes. I gripped the sides of the chair slightly as I felt her enter my mind. It was a strange itch of discomfort behind my temples and then things were pulled forward.

For a while there was nothing. Nothing but her concentrated face before me, red tendrils emanating from her hands that hovered either sit of my forehead, the strange beams dancing across my flesh. “Tell me what you see, and I’ll try to move through quickly until I find the right area.” Her eyes were glowing red, and it was not lost on me just how ludicrous it seemed to invite her into my mind after I’d spent so long guarding it from anyone who might try to take a peek. After I’d been so disturbed by her looking in last time. At some point I closed my eyes, the darkness a strange comfort to me.

In support group, I’d heard people talk about associating a certain smell with a memory, like the aroma of freshly baked bread reminding them of being back at their grandmother’s home in the winter months. I never really understood that until now.

It was petrichor like rain and the faint smell of smoke. A splash of someone’s boots in the sludge and I was no longer sitting before Wanda in the study.

The only word to describe Moscow in the bowels of winter was frigid. A flash of blonde hair caught my eye between the trees. Yelena. I pressed my back to a flaking trunk, boots sliding slightly against the frozen ground. A single deep breath and closed eyes allowed me to focus on each distinct sound around me, the crunch of snow beneath her footfalls alerted me to her location. I waited patiently until I was sure she was close before launching outward. With my legs wrapped around hers we tumbled to the ground, we tumbled and sparred until she managed to get on top of me, pressing my face into the bitter snow.

I clenched my hands into fists, shutting my eyes tightly.

“This isn’t it. This is real, a memory.” In a second, I was out of the snow.

Cold, spindly fingers ran across my shoulder blades. A measuring tape was wrapped around my waist tightly. Matron Katerina scribbled numbers on her sheet, a consistent look of discontent present across her features.

I shook my head and Wanda pulled me out.

The smell of cigarettes and the prod of a wooden cane against my spine. “Stand up straighter,” Saskia said. The sharp burn of the cane against my calves had me shaking my head again.

“It’s the Red Room, this isn’t it.”

“Okay,” Wanda spoke. “Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes, it’s fine.”

Freshly baked bread seared my flesh as I hobbled toward a train headed anywhere other than Russia. I felt death creeping upon me as I lay, barely conscious, in the train car the rise of the sun and rocking of the vessel over the tracks were the only things anchoring me to reality.

When I shook my head, I was suddenly in the apartment in Berlin with Anna, a cold sweat spattered across my forehead which she soothed with a bowl of cool water.

I stretched my arms as much as the restraints allowed. Anna had insisted upon taking them off, but I’d refused, not trusting myself when the red was still living at the precipice of my mind. Abeni was resting in another room after a particularly trying night.

I shook my head yet again. It went on like this for what felt like hours. I relived meeting Nick Fury, the Red Room, Abeni’s treatments, and my S.H.I.E.L.D. assignments. It was all my memories laid out before me and nothing of the visions that had been slowly deteriorating my sanity for weeks now.

My back slammed into the hospital wall as Steve bunched my shirt in his hands. “Tell me what happened to Fury?”

“I don’t fucking know.” I seethed.

“Oh really, because it doesn’t seem like much ever takes you by surprise, Pimenova.”

I glared at him, not flinching as he accused me of being a double agent. “Let. Go.”

I shook my head and then it was a metal hand clenching around my throat, slamming me through a flimsy wooden table.

My eyes were narrowed, confusion seeping through me as I realized he was not here to drag me back to the Red Room. “Who the fuck are you working for Barnes?” He seemed to falter when I spoke. Some peculiar flash of recognition tainted with confusion passed over his face, his hand loosening just slightly on my neck but it was enough for me to slam my foot into the center of his chest and slip away.

When I was pulled out of the memory the next one had me pausing, Pietro’s face above mine as he restrained me in the snow, that cheeky smirk present even before we knew each other.

“You are very pretty. Although, you’re quite mean and you seem to have some anger management problems… that might actually make you more attractive. It’s hard to say.”

I shook my head slowly, fingers tightening around the arm of the chair. “It’s too recent.” The way I spoke you’d think I was realizing it in real time. Wanda pulled me from the memories letting me just sit with her in the room for a second. I took a deep breath, swallowing down my hesitations. “If we’re going to do this you have to go back… All the way.”

She looked unsure but nodded nonetheless, slowly bringing her hands back up. My eyes darted between them, the red enveloping me until I let my eyes shut again. There was darkness and quiet and then… nothing. I waited and waited but it never changed. I opened my eyes to see Wanda’s own closed, eyebrows knitted together, exertion clear on her face. “What’s happening?” She shook her head, eyelids creasing as she closed them even tighter.

“I’m trying to go back but… I can’t.”

I asked her what she meant.

“It’s like your mind won’t let me pass, like there’s an invisible fence blocking me out. Nothing else was hard to access, they were all right there, even the older memories there wasn’t resistance.” She opened her eyes, dropping her hands to her lap for a moment. “Let’s try this a different way. Just try to focus on opening your mind to let me in, we can go through the steps together, you unlock the doors and I’ll come through. Does that make sense?”

“Not even slightly.”

She sighed heavily. “Just close your eyes and relax, we’ll figure it out as we go.” I followed her instructions, letting my back rest against the seat and trying my very best to let the tension slip from my muscles. The darkness was engulfing me, and I sat wondering how the hell to open my mind to her. I let out another deep breath, letting the grip I’d maintained on the arm rest loosen. The one thing I could remember from my stint of seeing psychiatrists, ordered by Fury when I was a new recruit, was to imagine my body was melting into whatever surface I was sitting on. It was supposed to help me soothe the rage I was filled with… or something. Dr. Stanley had said to let my arms go limp and then focus on letting my legs drop once my body was effectively melted stop focusing altogether and let yourself be completely untethered and uncontrolled for a moment. I tried it, letting my shoulders drop. Still, there was nothing and a twinge of frustration ran down my neck but then something changed. I heard something so faint and I distinct that it was hard to tell if it was a sound from the compound or if Wanda was getting somewhere. I chose to keep it to myself until I’d deciphered what it was. Then another sound erupted, like music maybe, but it was only a second and then it was gone. I heard Wanda tsk and mutter something in Sokovian. “I still can’t get through, it’s like I’m rebounding off of a wall each time. I don’t know where it’s pushing me, but it almost feels like it’s redirecting me, like a magnet pulling me in another direction.”

I shut my eyes tighter. “Keep trying… Please.”

She did. For a long while there was still nothing; until there wasn’t.

The stage, a tight leotard and tutu skirt, shoes that made my toes ache, and music, loud, booming, classical filling my ears. Swan Lake; Dreykov in the front row watching. I twirled and twirled until my feet went out beneath me and when I hit the hard floor I was in a different dress, white and flowy with cap sleeves and tulle. I smoothed a hand over my hair, realizing it was pinned back, flowers at the top. My heart was thumping against my sternum, the only thing I could feel. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead as I looked out toward the audience but there was only darkness and when I blinked it was as though the whole scene glitched, a scratching sound, and suddenly the picture shifted before coming back into focus. I moved slowly to my knees, standing up to move closer to the lip of the stage. But it was as though an invisible wall had appeared, fencing me in and keeping me in a square at the center of the stage. A loud sound echoed through the otherwise silent room, it was only then that I realized there had previously been no sound, not just a quiet room but as if the entire scene were on mute. Suddenly sound exploded around me, classical again but a different tune. This was not Swan Lake; I was supposed to dance Swan Lake, that was Dreykov’s favorite; that was the ballet I had to perform. The music continued, so loud it drowned out my racing pulse and thoughts. I squinted to see who was in the audience, but I could not make it out. My next blink had everything shifting again, the static sound, the glitchy vision, and then I was no longer on the stage but watching someone else twirl around and around. She died in the ballet and that’s when I realized what I was watching.

Giselle.

I was standing in the space between the first row of seats and the stage, watching intently as the dancer moved across the stage. It was like I couldn’t speak; I’d open my mouth and no words would come out. She stopped right before me, right at the edge of the stage and I reached out to her as far as my arm could go but before I managed to touch her a black-gloved hand snatched my wrist and pressed it against cold metal. When I looked up Giselle was gone and only a grey static-filled TV screen remained. It sat on a trolley that was shoved out of the way and replaced by a man in black-framed glasses. The man who had been haunting me. He narrowed his eyes, inspecting every inch of my face before standing back to his full height and fiddling with my hair. I was completely still, afraid to move, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. When he bent down again I saw his eyes, dark grey, or maybe they were brown, it seemed to change each time I looked at him. He opened his mouth but what came out was garbled, inaudible. When I didn’t respond he stood, disappearing from my line of sight, which was very little beyond what was directly in front of me. I attempted to turn my head but there was resistance.

When he returned things got a little fuzzy.

“Tell me your name.” Then the static was back. I didn’t hear myself respond. Giselle returned to the screen music filling my ears. As hard as it was, I fought to cling to the image, fought to stay in it.

“Tell me your name.”

“Nadia Morozova.” I heard it this time. Clear as day. The voice was small and barely even sounded like me, but I knew it was.

“And where were you born?”

“Russia.”

“Where were you born?” His voice was like ice, and it made me shrink into my chair.

“St. Petersburg.” I clarified.

“Where are your parents?”

The static came back then. I gritted my teeth as a deafening ringing began in my ears. Gripping the sides of the seat as it continued. I wasn’t entirely sure if the sound was happening in my mind or in real life. Giselle was twirling across the screen before me again. I was hypnotized by the liquid movement of her dress, curving to her every maneuver.

“That’s it!” It was Wanda’s voice then. “I’m getting through hold on to what you’re seeing, Nadia.” Her words sounded rough like she was in pain. I gripped onto the image with everything I had, fighting to stay there.

“Tell me your name.”

“Nadia Morozova.”

“Where were you born.”

“St. Petersburg.”

Giselle was spinning so fast it seemed almost impossible. The music was getting louder and louder to the point it seemed like it was going to blow my eardrums out.

“You’ll keep watching until you get all the answers right.”

I gripped my head, the music was becoming unbearable, and I was getting dizzy.

“Where are your parents.”

The leotard was too tight, I wanted it to be Giselle again, why did I have to dance?

“Subject 114…”

“My name is Nadia Morozova; I was born in St. Petersburg on the 7^th of November, and I am an orphan.”

The man in the glasses injected something into my neck before grabbing ahold of my chin and inspecting my face, perhaps looking at my eyes. It made my head get fizzy and heavy.

“What is your name?”

“My name is Nadia Morozova.” I couldn’t breathe. “I never knew my parents.”

The man was gone, and I was staring up at the familiar black ceiling, the Red Room. I struggled against the body that lay beneath me, the girl’s arms cutting my air supply. I knew I was stuck, but I refused to tap, searching for a way out instead. My vision was greying, becoming cloudy.

The more time went by, the less there I was. Soon they were different arms, tight around me in a different way. Arms that had no intention of causing me harm, arms that were warm with comfort, that warded off the bad. My head rested against someone’s chest movement disorienting me. Rocking, I realized eventually, we were rocking side to side.

“Stars shining bright above you.” It was back again only this time it was different, quieter, a soft hum against my ear. “Night breezes seem to whisper, ‘I love you’” A kiss was pressed to my temple. I had to squint as the sunlight dappled brightly through leaves, warming my skin, whiteness all I could see. There was a breeze that traveled through the strands of my hair, and I could smell… Jasmine and sandalwood. A strand of blonde hair dusted over my cheek tickling my flesh. Not my hair, I realized as I looked back. Things became jilted then, unsteady and barely there.

“I’ve got it, you’re right there, I think I can get rid of it,” Wanda spoke up.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Soft, adoring, a voice I’d heard before. The American woman who sings to me in dreams. I was small in her arms, but I still couldn’t see her face.

“I’ve nearly got it… I’m going to pull it out at the root.”

“He’s just… intensely passionate about what he does, he always has been. He loves his work.” The warmth from her chest radiated onto me. A smooth hand moved up and down my forearm. “But he doesn’t love it more than you. How could he? You mean everything to him, you and-”

“Stop!” I shouted. Barely even registered what I was saying. The moment faltered. I stood so abruptly I was surprised the seat stayed upright.

Wanda looked startled, her eyes turning back to their normal shade. “What happened? Are you okay?”

I ran a shaky hand through my hair, swallowing heavily. “I’m fine, I-” It was as though I was out of breath and still struggling to bring air into my lungs. “I just don’t want to do this anymore. Sorry for making you work so hard.” I braced myself on the back of the chair.

“Don’t be sorry. You seemed pretty sure that you wanted me to get rid of it all, what changed your mind?”

Another voice entering the room startled me. “What the hell is going on?!” Pietro. I hadn’t even heard him come in. His eyes were wide with what appeared to be a mixture of disbelief and utter concern. He saw the red tendrils creeping around Wanda’s hands. “What exactly were you getting rid of?”

Wanda stepped forward. “I was just trying to help.”

“Help?! Really?” His chest heaved; eyes wild as he glanced between the two of us. “How exactly is wiping your mind helping?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but I saw her wringing her hands.

“Just stop, Pietro! I’m the one who made this decision. It’s my responsibility. So, if you’re going to yell at someone, yell at me.”

“Oh, I’ll get to you.” He spoke pointedly before turning back to Wanda. “Right now I’m still waiting to hear what the hell you were thinking.”

I rolled my eyes heavily, glancing at Wanda who gave me a knowing look before slipping out of the room. Pietro watched her leave, exasperation evident across his features. “You need to take it down like 80 percent.”

“No! Not until you tell me why you would do something like this.”

“Because I’m losing my fucking mind, Pietro! Do you not get that? I can’t sleep or train or just have a day where I’m not overcome with these strange… things.” My eyes were stinging as I watched him, my heart still thumping against my chest, exhaustion making a home in my bones.

“What are you talking about? The nightmares?”

“It’s more than just that now.” I shook my head, laughing humorlessly. “Steve reassigned the mission because he doesn’t trust me to get it done. Honestly, I don’t trust me either right now.”

A tear steamed down my cheek and before I had time to process it Pietro had engulfed my face with his hands, standing before me now with eyes so soft they looked like they were melting.

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” He shook his head. “I-I didn’t know any of this, I just thought… you have nightmares, we both do I never thought that things had gotten so bad. I had suspicions that you were keeping something from me after what happened the other day, but I didn’t... Why didn’t you tell me?”

Another tear followed the first and I let it, allowing my clenched fists to loosen. Slowly I moved them to slide over his arms, his hands still holding my face, stoking my cheek tenderly. “I didn’t tell you…” I closed my eyes for a long moment, swallowing heavily. “I didn’t tell you because I was scared.”

“Scared of what.” His voice was soft, quiet; just for me.

“Scared because I don’t know what’s happening to me. Because I might really be going crazy, and I know you think I’m not but you’ve always been too nice to me.”

He shook his head again, forehead pressing to mine. “You deserve everything I am to you and more, Nadia. You are not going crazy, and even if you were I meant what I said to you.” Another tear. “Steve does trust you, of course he does, we all do. Especially me. It’s okay that you’re scared but we will figure it out together, you can’t just go doing things like this.” He gestured around the room and then smoothed his hand over my temples and hair. “Please just… I need you to just talk to me about these things you can’t put yourself in danger like this, I-I…” He was stumbling over his words, struggling to get them out and his eyes were glassy now. “I need you to be okay, Nadia. I can’t lose you too. I can’t do it.”

We were so close that our air was shared. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, unsure what he meant but when I saw the look in his eyes, the immense fear and the sadness that had, evidently, been with him since he was young, I brought my hands up to his cheeks, mirroring the way he held me.

“You’re not going to lose me. I’m not going anywhere. I just need my mind back.”

He nodded against my forehead. I let my eyes fall closed still resting in his embrace. There was near silence around us for a long while, the only sound our breaths. My mind whirred as I went over and over the things I’d seen. I was utterly terrified, struggling to speak it aloud, lest I breathe life into the thought. But then Pietro’s grasp was gentle and solid all at once, warm and safe and I exhaled again.

“I don’t think they’re just visions anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I remember the Red Room. I dream about it, I can see it in my mind. I remember it because I lived it.” My hands dropped from his cheeks and his fell from mine, moving down my arms to hold my hands. “The other things I don’t remember as clearly but they’re still there with my other memories.” The second the words left my mouth my heart was racing again, and I felt panic set into my chest. I took a deep breath and instead of shutting my eyes, I looked at Pietro.

He was seemingly taking in my words, nodding gently. “So, we’ll figure that out too.” His thumb rubbed back and forth across my cheekbone and somehow it lessened the twisting, white-hot feeling that had been setting into my stomach. There was silence again for a moment before he spoke up. “Does this mean we can sleep in the same bed again?”

I laughed gently. Wrapping my arms around him in a tight embrace, needing to feel his presence here, now, more than ever.

Chapter Text

Pietro had been keeping a watchful eye on me, scarcely letting me out of his sight. I wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of, me doing something reckless or having another episode. Whatever the case, he remained stuck to me like glue.

When Secretary Ross came in his unmarked SUV, I wasn’t surprised. It had only been a matter of time before the bureaucrats arrived. I sat patiently in the conference room, in anticipation of what was to come. The silence was almost madness-inducing. Thick in the air, even when I was joined by Steve and Tony. I stared straight ahead as the former sat across the table from me, looking directly at me.

“Kid…” Before he had the chance to continue Ross was entering and greeting us with all the usual formality and diplomacy of a government man. It was a conscious effort not to roll my eyes. I tapped my fingers against the table, purposely ignoring the looks that both Steve and Tony were sending me. Ross discussed whatever it was men like him busied themselves with and I waited for the other shoe to drop.

“You did well in Amsterdam, Agent Pimenova. That could have been quite the mess.”

I ignored his words. “Let’s cut to the chase. I am in trouble, yes?”

Tony sighed exasperatedly, presumably at my lack of tact. Ross placed both his hands on the table, clasping them together and exhaling deeply. “This is a rather complicated matter, as I’m sure you’re aware.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You assaulted a government agent, well… to put it plainly you beat the crap out of a member of my staff.”  I nodded, moving my hands beneath the table, and tapping the pad of my index finger against the cool metal of my chair. “You are a very valued member of the Avengers organization, as well as a hero to this country… However, this latest outburst speaks to a lack of control which is frankly unacceptable.” He unclasped his briefcase, placing two booklets onto the glass table between us. “Of course, this is nothing personal and less than ideal, however, disciplinary action must be taken to ensure that there are no repeats of this incident.”

My finger stopped tapping.

Steve spoke up then. “Secretary Ross, with all due respect, I don’t believe that’s necessary. What happened was unfortunate, but this is the first incident and Nadia regrets her actions.”

“I understand this, Captain, yet your assurance will not be enough in this case.”

“This case? What case is the decision being based on?”

My fingers tightened around the metal of the chair as Ross went on. “Is it true that Miss Pimenova was recently removed from an assignment due to her… current condition?” I closed my eyes for a long moment.

“That was completely unrelated, what happened with your guy was a single indiscretion and she’s a first-time offender, there’s no need to make this bigger than it is.” Tony attempted to reason. I simply remained silent. There was nothing to say, not when I knew Ross’s mind was made up the moment I’d looked him in the eyes.

I barely heard the rest of the conversation, bits and pieces made it though. “Out of control… dangerous… where she was raised...  Anna Prentiss.”

I watched a new sheet of snowfall over the thick blanket that was already smothering the once-green patch just outside the window of the sitting room. A chill had set into the air in the room but still, I sat, goosebumps prickling at my arms as I watched the corners of the window glaze over with frost.

“There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you.” Natasha exclaimed, dropping into the armchair next to me, flanked by Pietro who wore an expectant look as he pulled up a chair to sit before me. I glanced between the two of them with slightly furrowed eyebrows.

“Why?”

They gave each other a look that seemed to be a combination of disbelief and confusion. “We want to know what Ross wanted, obviously.”

I looked passed Pietro, back out the window. “I attacked that other guy who works for him, I’m in the shit house.”

There was silence for a long moment. “Okay… so what does that mean?” Pietro asked. I met his eyes and part of me hoped he could read it in my expression, so I didn’t have to keep talking about it. Maybe he really could. His eyes narrowed slightly, jaw tightening. “What did he say?”

I grit my teeth for a moment, swallowing hard and steeling myself. “I’m going away for a while… Just until I can get my head straight.”

“What the fuck?!” I didn’t even flinch at Natasha’s outburst, unsurprised by her reaction.

“He believes that given my particular… skillset and history, it would be best that they take preventative measures to ensure nothing worse happens.”

“That is completely ridiculous!” Pietro stood abruptly. “They can’t do this… This is unacceptable, someone has to say something! This is just completely-”

Pietro’s words were cut short by my interjection. “I agreed.”

He turned his frantic gaze on me, mouth hanging open. Natasha’s shoulders dropped a little and she remained silent. There was no bewildered gaze on her features. No confusion.

Pietro shook his head. “Anyone would have reacted negatively to being startled like that when they were upset.”

“Not anyone did… I did, Pietro.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Me; the assassin who was raised in the Red Room; the Russian spy.” He opened his mouth to disagree, but I beat him to it. “It would have been worse, had Anna not appealed to them. I got off lightly.”

“So, what, that’s it?” I shrugged. “Nadia, this is bullshit.”

“Yes, it is but this is what’s happening.”

He shook his head, but it was Natasha who spoke next. “Where are they taking you?”

My stomach churned. “I’m not allowed to tell you.” I glanced at the silver-haired man before me. His eyes hadn’t strayed from me for even a second. I wasn’t sure he’d even been blinking. “Either of you.”

He shook his head again. “This is bullshit!” It seemed to be the only thing he could muster.

“Anna will be there and someone Ross has hired as well to make sure there is no bias.”

Nat placed a hand on my shoulder, letting it linger for a moment before she left the room. “How long?” Pietro was at the window now, hands braced on the ledge, back hunched.

“As long as it takes for me to be better.”

“So basically, until they say so?”

I drew in a sharp breath. “Please stop.”  His head dropped between his shoulders at the sound of my voice, I heard it too; the defeat; the exhaustion. “I did a bad thing and so maybe the consequences do not fit the crime, but they are the consequences. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone; all I know is that I’m here now and I don’t want to spend the time before I go being angry.”

He exhaled deeply before standing to his full height and turning to face me. “When are they making you leave?” His voice sounded different. Like he was forcing the words out.

“The day after Christmas.”

He nodded, eyebrows knitting together, fists clenched at his sides. “6 days, how generous.” My eyes were stinging slightly but I wasn’t entirely sure why. It was becoming a little hard to breathe evenly. When I saw the gleaming line that he was attempting to blink away I felt even worse. I didn’t want him to feel bad, about this or anything else.

“You’ll be gone just after me anyway, that’s a whole month where you’ll be too busy to notice I’m gone anyway.”

“I’ll notice.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “You won’t even be here.”

“Neither will you.”

It was my turn to shake my head. “Jesus, I’m coming back, it’s not a death sentence.”

“Just let me be upset, Nadia.” He moved a little closer to me, a very brief moment of amusement passing over his expression.

The stinging in my eyes was becoming hard to ignore. I blinked again and again to make it go away, but my eyes seemed to have other ideas. “I don’t want you to be upset.”

“Why not?”

“Because I-” My throat felt like it was closing over, and I wasn’t entirely sure what I had been about to say to him. My eyebrows furrowed slightly, and I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat. “I just don’t.”

He smiled but it was tinged with dejection. He brushed a strand of hair from my eyes, tucking it behind my ear. “You know sometimes I think about what it would be like if we’d met under different circumstances.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What? Like if you and your sister weren’t trying to wage war on the Avengers?”

He rolled his eyes a smile tugged at his lips. “No smartass, like if we weren’t who we are. If we were normal people, no enhancements, no Red Room, just you and me.” His thumb rubbed over my cheek as a small tear streamed down his cheek. “I don’t know, sometimes it’s just nice to think about what it would’ve been like if we got to have that.”

I hadn’t thought about that before. The thought might have crossed my mind, fleetingly of how much easier everything in my life would be if I wasn’t, well, me. However, I’d never let myself linger on the thought too long. Perhaps, I was worried I’d get lost in it.

…

Natasha braced her gloved hands against the punches I threw, I could feel her gaze on me. “I’m not running away,” I spoke between jabs.

“Of course not, and I would never suggest you do… it’s just you have other options, you know that.” The smile on her face was teasing but I could tell by the look in her eyes that there was a pocket of truth beneath the joke.

I rolled my eyes with no real malice. “These are the consequences of my actions; I’m going to face them.”

“They’re bullshit consequences, Nads, Pietro was right about that.”

Her and Pietro had certainly not been the only ones to voice this opinion, the days had been filled with people telling me how unfair it was and prodding me to fight back against the man. “He was. He was right, but I’m not, haven’t been for a while now.” I swiped the beads of sweat from my forehead. “You know I was good at my job when we were in the Red Room, I was good because even if I couldn’t trust other people, I could trust myself, trust my mind. If I can’t even trust that, where does that leave me?”

She shrugged half-heartedly. “You could always trust us.”

I didn’t respond right away, unsure what to say, the truth I knew seemed too difficult to vocalize. So, I deflected. “Do you think I’m making the wrong decision?”

“Only you can decide that.”

I scoffed. “Nice diplomatic answer. What’s the real one.”

“I don’t think there is a right answer. Just what’s right for you and I can’t tell you that.” She was serious then. “There is one thing I can tell you though.” I narrowed my eyes slightly, gesturing for her to continue. “You need to talk to Tony before you go.” She didn’t even entertain my protesting, continuing before the words could even leave my open mouth. “You don’t know how long you’ll be gone; you’re going to regret leaving things where they are.”

“You sound sure,” I spoke facetiously, throwing an especially hard hit against her padded hand.

She rolled her eyes at my antics. “I am sure because I know you and as much as you hate to admit it you care about him. That’s why it hurts so much that he went behind your back.”

I shook my head, giving her an indignant look but not disagreeing. We sat side by side when we’d finished our set, me hunched over as I unwrapped my hands and stretched my tense muscles. I wondered if I’d be allowed to train during this ‘disciplinary’ period. The thought frightened me a little, I’d always trained, always had the chance to spar, or exercise in some capacity. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if that was no longer an option. The thought of dormant muscles and idle hands had my spine straightening and my muscles tightening.  It was all I could think about as I neared the door to the training room, that menial concern began what could only be described as a spiral of others that held much more weight. How long would this go on? What exactly did my discipline entail? How would they measure if I was well enough to return? My heart rate picked up and the moment I became aware of it the worse it got.

“You weren’t that good at your job in the Red Room.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, grateful for the momentary distraction. I raised a solitary eyebrow.  Her lips curved upward. “I mean in the traditional sense of you got the job done, quick and clean, yeah you were good, the best actually… but there was a part of the job you could never do.”

“What’s that?”

She took a sip of her water. “Not care. Our sole objective was to complete the mission, take out the target, no guilt, no remorse. That part you never quite mastered.” There was silence between us for a long moment. Nat’s voice was the last thing I heard before I walked out the door. “Talk to Tony.”

I’d get Christmas, so at least there was that. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was about this Christmas that felt so different. I supposed it was the first time that I’d be spending Christmas with people like this, most other years I was on assignment, usually at my own request. Anna and I would always exchange gifts, but it was usually many months after the fact. It occurred to me as I watched Wanda thread sparkly tinsel through the branches, I’d never seen a tree being decorated like this. I had seen Christmas trees before but never witnessed the sparkly decorations being pulled from a box and hung. I glanced over my shoulder at Pietro to find him already looking. There was a furrow between his eyebrows that had persisted for days, I wished it would go away. His shoulders sagged slightly, and he didn’t need to speak to communicate what he was thinking.

I leaned my head back against his shoulder, momentary surprise appearing on his expression at the action. “I think it would be boring,” I said. Both his eyebrows rose in this sweet, unassuming way that almost made me sad because I’d miss that look. “If we weren’t who we are. Or if we’d met under different circumstances.”

“Boring?”

“Too easy, this has been fun.” I smiled up at him teasingly. “I could’ve done without Ultron and all that but…” He breathed a laugh, his fingers moving to rest on my side, pinky grazing the sliver of skin revealed by my sweater riding up. My muscles eased slightly, the tension in my shoulders melting out as the warmth of his chest seeped into me. “Nothing this good ever comes easily.”

His smile grew, eyes softening somehow. “That’s very sweet.”

“God, I can’t believe I just said something like that. When did I get so soft.”

I felt his lips graze my ear, his finger smoothing over my bare skin. “It’s just because you’re unbelievably hot on me.” I elbowed him in the chest, invoking a pained laugh from the man. When his laughter subsided, he let his hand encase my cheek, stroking it with his thumb. His eyes drew an invisible path over my face, I wondered if he was memorizing my features. Did he worry he’d forget what I looked like? I felt a smile tug at my lips, even though I wasn’t entirely sure why. There was something inexplicable in Pietro’s gaze. Something tender and difficult to read. “Inima mea îți aparține.” That’s what he said to me and then he kissed me, and I almost forgot that I didn’t speak Sokovian. The meaning of the words seemed to seep into my skin even if I didn’t understand them.

I asked him what it meant.

He just smiled again. “I’ll tell you when you get back.”

There it was again in his eyes, a glint of something I couldn’t quite decipher but something that made me exceedingly nervous.

The days seemed to be passing quickly now and that terrified me. The closer it got the more I felt I wasn’t ready. Two days before I was set to leave, I decided to address some of my unfinished business.

I gripped my book tightly between my fingers as I shoved the door to the sitting room open. Tony’s gaze shifted to me; surprise evident on his face. “Make no mistake, I am still mad at you, but to prove I can take the moral high ground I will be civil before I leave. So, we are going to sit in this room, and you are not going to speak lest I feel yet another reason to want to ring your neck, but we will be in each other’s company and that is all. Civility, no?” I dropped down into one of the armchairs with a flourish before cracking the book open and beginning to settle in.

The silence was heavy, tense with the words that Tony, evidently, wanted to speak. In the end, it lasted no more than 15 minutes.

“Pepper and I are on a break, she’s not my biggest fan at the moment, maybe the two of you could start a club or something... I guess I don’t really blame her. We’d been fighting a lot, as you know, because I’m no good at this whole conversation thing, but I figure since you’re pretending I don’t exist this isn’t actually a conversation so who better to practice with.” I didn’t look at him as he spoke, not so much as even acknowledging that I’d heard him. “You were right when you said that not talking about painful things does not make them hurt any less.” I flipped that page of the book, forcing my eyes to scan over the words on the page, attempting to engrain them in my mind, to ignore the words he was speaking. “I think I mentioned that there was someone in my life a long time ago… She’s gone. Well, there’s a little more to it than that. She meant a lot to me, more than I realized was humanly possible. I was such an asshole to her; I mean, you think I suck I can only imagine how she felt.” It took me a while to realize I’d been rereading the same sentence over and over. “I was a teenager and like most, I could be a complete prick when I wanted to. It was my fault… What happened to her.”

I sighed, finally closing the book, but still refused to look at him. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is.” He sounded different then. Less… Tony. There was a sullenness to his tone that I was sure I’d never heard there before, or perhaps I had heard it; once, when he was in the hallway with Rhoadey on his birthday. “I was supposed to be looking after her.”

I looked at him then. He looked tired. “Your mother?”

He met my gaze, eyebrows furrowed like mine. “No. I mean, yeah my mom died as well but that’s now what I’m talking about.”

I remembered hearing about Tony’s parents’ death, it was in my nature to do my homework on the people I work with, or I suppose less my nature, more my training. I’d always assumed he was referring to his mother, that was who I thought he had meant the first time we’d spoken about this in the lab. I had no idea what he was talking about now. “So, who?”

He swallowed thickly, clasping his hands together in his lap. His out-of-character behavior was making me slightly uneasy. Silence sat heavy between us for a long while, when he finally broke it, I was almost startled. “I had a sister.” He paused again. “A little sister. She was… just… everything, to everyone. I was usually the one who looked after her when our parents went out, there was never much point leaving her with a nanny, she was far too smart for that. I think for a while I pretended to mind, but I didn’t, not really. Honestly, I loved being around her. It didn’t feel like babysitting my kid sister because the truth is she was my best friend.” The more he told me the more his voice thinned, it was as though he was physically struggling to get the words out. “At some point, I must have decided that it was a little pathetic to enjoy the company of a child when I was a teenager who could be… I don’t know, partying, I guess. So, I decided it was time to do something for myself. To show my parents and everyone else how grown up I was.” His eyes were gleaming, and it occurred to me that I’d never seen Tony Stark cry before. Though, I supposed he wasn’t now either, not really. He inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before standing up and walking across the room to stand before the window. “I was supposed to be there. Our parents left me in charge like normal, I was supposed to be looking after her and I left. I walked out the front door and left.” He slid his glasses off, cleaning them gently with a tissue he’d plucked from the box on the side table. They were back on before he spoke again. “By the time I came back our home was surrounded by caution tape and there were police officers and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents-” He gestured around the room, “everywhere.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. So, I nodded and did my best. “I didn’t know that.”

“No. Not many people do.” He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. “Well, there you have it. The one thing I can’t talk about.”

“Tony…”

“I’m sorry… sorry if what I did seemed underhanded and sorry that you felt betrayed by me, but I’m not sorry for what I did.” His words had me raising an eyebrow. “You don’t know when to quit, you just can’t stop, even when it means putting yourself in harm’s way. We have that in common. That is why I don’t regret making the call I did, and I know Rogers feels the same.”

I looked ahead of us again, not responding to his words but not leaving the room either.

The snow was especially heavy on Christmas day, so heavy I wondered if perhaps it would trap us in the compound and I’d get to stay, if only for a few more days. It was a nice thought, but then the nightmares had been worse than ever, and my nerves were fraying from the constant images that taunted me. I knew it wouldn’t be a solution, not really. I didn’t want to know how much worse it would get if I stayed, not really. The cold nipped at my skin as I gazed over Pietro’s sleeping form, the room was still dark, pale light slipping in around the curtains allowing me to see his features. His chest rose and fell ever so slightly, the calmness to the movement assuring me he was still fast asleep. I felt a warm tear stream down my cheek, and I had to turn away from him so I felt as though I could breathe again. My chest was tight when I turned back, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and adjusting the bow that sat atop the gift I’d left on the pillow beside his. Underneath is sat an envelope, the only thing written on it a solitary ‘P’. There wasn’t really any feeling ready or surety that this was right, but I knew it was time. I approached the door on silent feet, stealing one last glance at his sleeping form before slipping out of the room. On the other side of the wall lay my black duffel, already packed and ready for me. The compound seemed different at this time of the morning, still mostly dark and almost completely silent. The only thing I could hear was the thump of my heart and the thoughts rattling around my head. I tightened my coat around myself as I reached the exit, stopping just before the threshold. A deep and, truthfully, slightly shaky breath left me as my shoulders drew together slightly.

“If you’re about to give me a lecture you might as well save your breath. I’m not going to change my mind, Natasha.”

A quiet breath, almost a laugh. “I know.” She paused momentarily. “He’ll be devastated.”

I shut my eyes tightly, feeling like I couldn’t breathe again. “He wasn’t going to give up… He thinks he’s slick, but I perfected the fake acceptance con, it wasn’t over.”

“Nadia.”

“He would have gotten himself into trouble as well and I won’t let him do that, not for me. He will be okay.” Silence again. Another tear fell down my cheek. “Just promise me that you won’t let him come after me. You have to promise me that you’ll keep him out of it.”

When she spoke again it barely sounded like her at all, her voice was quiet and heavy. “Okay… I’ll do that, if and only if you promise me that you’ll look after yourself.”

I gripped the door handle. Squeezing my eyes shut and breathing deeply for a second. If it was this hard now I knew I was making the right call in bowing out before the rest of the awful goodbyes. Not goodbyes; see you soon. That’s what Wanda had said. “I promise.” I glanced back over my shoulder, the first time I’d looked at her during our conversation. Her hair was a little messy, as though she’d just woken up and I could see a line of silver glimmering along her waterline. It was unbearable to see the expression on her face. I swallowed heavily, grip tightening further on the cold metal. “See you soon.” Her lips downturned and I forced myself to turn back to the door, forced myself to walk through it out into the bitter cold.

A black SUV awaited me, stark against the blanket of white that covered the ground. The car ride to the airstrip was silent save for the government agent’s initial greeting and the barely audible hum of the radio.

To keep myself anchored to reality, somewhat sane I thought of the letter I’d written to Pietro, I’d gone over it so many times that I was sure the contents were etched in my brain permanently, even if I tried I’d likely never rid myself fully of it.

‘Dear Pietro,

Hi. I don’t know why I’m saying hi I’ve already said Dear Pietro but I’ve written it now so what does it really matter, I guess.

If you’re reading this, I’m already gone. It’s shitty I know.

Sorry.

I knew that you would not have given up so easily, you would have put up a fight and tried to stop me from going again. You would have told me we could figure all of this out together and that we’d deal with it together. Goodbyes are fucking awful as it is, and I didn’t a fight to be the note we left on.

Now you’re probably saying that’s bullshit and maybe it is.

The truth is if I had to look you in the eyes, I’m not sure I would have left. My head is a jumbled mess right now and I’m barely functioning anymore, so I don’t think I’d have had the fight in me to go against you.

That might be weak and selfish, but it is the truth. I’m not good at communicating what I’m feeling and I’m fucking awful at goodbyes.

So, this is what I leave you.

I’m sorry.

Inima mea îți aparține

P.S. If that means something bad, sorry but you did that to yourself.’

Chapter Text

“Where were you born?”

“St. Petersburg.”

“What is your name?”

Nadia Morozova. That’s what I said, again and again.

My name is Nadia Morozova, I was born in St. Petersburg on the 16^th of November 1989.

“Where are your parents?”

I never knew them.

“Where are you parents.”

I gasped for air, sweat beading my forehead. My muscles ached with the tension that lived within them for the past three weeks. My throat was raw from yelling and cursing at the agent who stood at my bedside, observing and noting down the words I spoke. A cool cloth dabbed at my feverish skin, my head lolled to the side, revealing Anna. There was a frown on her lips that seemed to be permanently etched into her expression these days.

21 days earlier

I didn’t see Anna until I got off the plane in Brazil, she was waiting for me at the private airstrip.

“The plan is to try to unravel some of the memories that are troubling you and hopefully if they’re less tangled, you’ll have some more clarity.”

I nodded, looking down at my hands. More and more trees lined the road as we continued. “Where are we going?”

I felt her gaze on me for a moment before she looked back ahead. “It was organized by Ross, he wanted somewhere discreet, somewhere without distraction.”

“Somewhere like?”

“The amazon.”   

The number of trees only grew as, and the road thinned out into a dirt track where two men stood waiting. One in a button-up shirt that had him appearing immensely out of place, and the other an older man, hair white and sparse with wrinkles and sunspots covering his face. Anna parked the car on the side of the track, going to the back to collect the bags.

“Agent Pimenova, I’m assuming?” Button-down asked, hand outstretched toward me. I glanced at it before turning to grab my bag from Anna. The man cleared his throat, dropping his hand back by his side. “I’m Dr Norris, I’ll be overseeing this… operation.”

“Where the hell is this place?” The older man stepped forward then, pointing toward the dense tree line before us. I looked over my shoulder at Anna. “What the fuck?”

“I hope you brought comfortable shoes.” She handed me my backpack and a bottle of water before gesturing for me to enter the trail ahead of her.

The old man who’s name I’d learned was João lead us through the forest, no map nor compass of any kind, no hesitation, and no stopping. The trek was mostly silent, save for the crunching of leaves beneath our feet and the heavy breathing of Agent Norris. I knew Anna wanted to say more, though she remained silent. Whether it was the presence of Ross’s agent, or my lack of attempts to make conversation, I was unsure. I chose to address it at a later time. The hike was long and arduous, the heat baring down on us to the point it felt like I was suffocating. I pulled the tank top from my sweaty stomach, using the bottom to wipe my forehead.

“How much further?” Anna asked.

“Little.” João grumbled.

It took us 2 hours and 45 minutes to reach the cabin, according to my watch. My watch, which was taken by Dr Norris at the door of the cabin. He placed it into a metal box along with my phone. “It’s protocol, though, the phone won’t be much use out here, it’s a black zone, no service, impossible to be tracked.” He spoke casually as he stowed the box in the room, I was assuming was his.

I surveyed the cabin, moderately sized, with three rooms off of the one we’d enter into. There was a small kitchenette, an old couch and many large jugs of water sitting on the floor in the corner. João was gone when I turned around, like he’d never even been there in the first place. Anna and Norris led me into the room I’d be staying in, withing the four walls was a double bed, beside a table filled with an array of strange devices and a screen. I dragged my finger over the various machines as Norris spoke.

I only caught bits of what he said. “Cognitive therapy… memory loss… hippocampus…”

In the morning Norris attached hooked me up to one of the larger machines, wires running from patches that he placed across my forehead. The screen was moved in front of me, and I remember making a snarky comment about the likelihood of getting a streaming service out here. That is the last clear moment I can recall from that time.

The heat never let up, there were times when I felt sure I’d burn alive. Sweat seemed to become a constant part of my existence, after a few days the shaking set in, so intense it was as if my bones were rattling around beneath my flesh. João came back sometimes, he’d make a pungent tea that burned my nose and made my head foggy.

I think the nightmares were worse, though to be honest most of the time it was hard to distinguish my dreams from reality.

On the screen there were bizarre black and white shapes that morphed and pulsed, making me dizzy. I remember a clicking sound and then the shapes changed again. Another click and everything was red.

The girl before me had ringlets of chocolate brown hair the jostled as she thrashed. I blinked rapidly, watching the man with the mask choke her. I could see flesh peeking out from beneath her suit where he’d nicked her with his blade. He wasn’t supposed to be here, I didn’t even know who he was. This was supposed to be a quick mission, in and out. That is what Dreykov had said. It was my first real assignment. Though really it was Arina’s I was just supposed to shadow her. The best way to learn. My hands were shaking as my fingers wrapped around the cool metal, it was heavy, and my arms were still weak. My heart was thudding heavily in my chest, and I could feel my lip trembling even though I wasn’t sure what I was doing was wrong. This is what I am supposed to do; what they tell us to do. My fingers were small, so I had to squeeze extra hard, holding the gun with both hands. Even with the silencer that pop was loud to my ears. Afterwards everything stopped. The man behind Arina went still, save for the way his shoulders fell and his spine straightened slightly. A circle of red sat in the center of his forehead, a stream of blood trickling down from it just before he fell backward, twitching for less than a second before his body went limp. Arina rolled her head on her shoulders, pressing a finger to her in ear and speaking quickly, smoothly, unshaken.

“Complete.” She placed a hand atop the gun that was still poised between my hands, pushing it downwards and stopping directly in front of me to look into my eyes. “Nice shot.”

I was 11. I’d only ever shot targets before then.

“Nadia.”

Anna was there, dabbing a cool cloth across my forehead. Blurry to my half-lidded eyes. Darkness consumed me with a blink.

“Are you certain she’s taking to the new treatments?”

“I am certain she will.” It was the man with the glasses, thick German accent coating each of his words. “The mind can only take so much.”

Natasha stood behind me, helping me tighten the feather headpiece. “Just like we practiced, remember, pretend there’s no one in the audience, it’s just you and me, I’ll be right here in the wings while you dance.”

I’d never been Odette before. I was terrified. I neared the edge of the wings, the stage still dark as the music began. A shove to my shoulders and I went tumbling forward, suddenly in the center, beneath a blinding spotlight. I looked toward the wings to see no sign on Natasha, or anyone. There was, however, someone before me. In the audience the were people, three of them. I wandered closer, squinting against the light to see their faces but it was futile. The closer I got the blurrier they became until there was no one there at all. I realized then that the music had changed, a different song altogether had become. It was no longer Swan Lake. A second spotlight appeared then a loud shuttering filling the room as it did. Across the stage was another dancer, dark-haired with a different garment. A long white dress with a blue and red corset vest over the top. I knew it was Giselle, but she seemed unaware of my presence. My feet felt cemented to my place on the stage, locked down and immovable. I called out for her attention, though she never even turned her head. The picture stuttered, blurred and jolted and I fell to my knees against the hard floor. Giselle twirled around me, still facing away. I called to her again and this time she stopped, her head whipping toward me but she had no face, it was only blank smooth skin, yet she spoke.

“What is your name?”

I stared up at her in bewilderment. “I-I…” The moment jolted again, distorted like a scratched CD. “Nadia.”

She was eerily stiff as asked. “What is your name?” Even without eyes I felt her gaze burning into me.

“I just told you.”

“What is your name?”

I told her again and again she asked.

“I already told you.” I was growing tired of this. Less afraid of her expressionless face. I moved to my feet before her.

“It ends whenever you want it to.”  

My eyebrows furrowed; it was not her speaking at all. I looked around to find no one but us. The voice asked me again. I blinked and Giselle was gone, then she was back. “You tell me.”

“Where are you parents.”

“I don’t have any.”

“Tell me.”

The music swelled, Giselle act 1: overture. I didn’t know why I knew that I just did. More music began then, Swan Lake, Op. 20, Act II. I’d danced it a hundred times before. It was so loud, the two songs merging and clashing. I clutched my ears to shield them from some of the immense sound. I fell back to the floor, pressing my forehead against the cold surface, knees tucked beneath me whilst I continued to cover my ears.

“Tell me your name!”

I clutched my ears tighter; the music only grew louder.

“Tell me!”

“I don’t know!”

The metal of the seat dug into my skin as my arms and legs were strapped down. I pulled against the restraints but there was no give, the walls were sterile white, so stark they hurt my eyes. The man with glasses was there but he was speaking in a hushed tone to someone I couldn’t see.

“She isn’t ready…” The movement of my neck was limited by something. I saw a blank screen before me on a trolley.  “Subject 114… this will all be undone if she is transferred before she is ready.”

The man turned swiftly, catching me glancing over at him. He returned to stand before me, turning the television on and lifting a metal ring from beside me. I looked up as best I could to see what he was placing over my head. I’d never seen anything like it. A metallic halo with wires attached. The moment the screen turned on I was back on the stage and the music was playing again.

“Where are your parents?” I was back in the chair.

“You tell me.” A sharp pain emerged in my forehead and arm. I flinched at the shock.

The shocks happened a lot. The response to incorrect answers I realized.

“What is your name?”

“I already told you.” But it wasn’t my voice that spoke. A little girl who sounded nothing like me had spoken when my lips moved.

Another electric shock.

The cool of the cloth Anna pressed to my head anchored me to reality for a moment. I wasn’t sure what day it was or how long I’d been lying here. But she was wearing different clothes than the last time I’d seen her and there were dark circles around her eyes.

My body was weak, completely depleted of energy. The truth was, this felt a whole lot like dying. A tear ran down my cheek. The hot liquid felt cool against my overheated flesh.  “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“I know.” She gripped the towel tighter. “I don’t want you to do this anymore either. But you are remembering things. We’re getting somewhere.”

I swallowed over the dryness in my throat. “Where?”

“It seems, from the memories we can piece together and the visceral reaction to the ballet… well, the working theory right now is that hydra conditioned you to be a kind of sleeper agent but instead of commanding you to complete an assignment when activated your task was to forget. Perhaps to mask their training techniques or to make you forget recognizable traits of the Red Room. It’s like they’ve put boxes of memories behind a locked door and Giselle is the key.”

I turned my head away from her, looking up again. The ceiling had become a strange comfort to me, browning at the edges, paint peeling. When I was staring up at it, I knew I was here, in this room, not locked in my mind. Though, the comfort never lasted long.

A metal hand wrapped around my throat pinning me to the ground in the training room. My muscles ached from the days I’d spent being interrogated by Dreykov and the others about Natasha’s defection. His eyes were so dark they almost appeared black as he stared down at me, no emotion present on his face.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.” I was losing count of how many times I’d said that since she left.

His grip didn’t let up, it occurred to me then that he could kill me, in fact he might if he believes I’m lying. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that fact. His hand closed around my throat until he was cutting off my air supply. I grabbed at his hand, attempting to pry it off but all my strength was no match for the metal limb.

I lurched upright in the bed gripping Anna’s arm as the fog cleared, the moment of clarity was short-lived however as I was forced backward against the bed. When I opened my eyes again Anna was gone and I was in a different room, white walls, fluorescent lights baring down on me. Hands held me down against cold metal and it was Dreykov’s voice that I heard then. “Calm now, my Nadia, the graduation ceremony is a reward for your strength, you should feel honored.”

I thrashed against the hands that held me, but my body went still when I heard the music begin.

‘Stars shining bright above you.

Night breezes seem to whisper, ‘I love you.’

Birds singin’ in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me’

I was looking down at my feet which sat atop black dress shoes that moved us across hardwood floors. Little pink toenails stark against the polished leather. A warm palm pressed to my back, another clasping my right hand softly. My eyes rose and I saw a white dress shirt, with a tie hanging loosely around the collar, once neat and uniform, now relaxed. Humming filled my ears next, and it was as if the moment was coming to life around me. The sound of his voice was warm and strangely comforting. He couldn’t quite remember the words, that’s what I was thinking as we danced, then that is what he said to me.

“We’re doing famously to remember this dance, chickadee.”

A giggle was the next thing I heard, small, light-hearted. It had come from me I realized. The longer the moment went on the less I felt a spectator and the more I became an active participant.

“Should we show mama and buggy before dinner?”

“We absolutely must, my girl! It would be rude to hide our talent for ballroom from them.” Another giggle. I stepped off of the man’s feet as he spun me around before grasping my sides and lifting me off of the ground. My hands clutched at his forearms, as the wind whipped around me and her pulled me into a tight embrace. Just like that his face was revealed to me, brown hair that was lightening with age, a thick mustache atop his upper lip and lines by his eyes that creased further as he smiled at me.  “I think we’ve earned a treat after all that work. What about you?”

I nodded fervently. “Ice cream?”

He pretended to think for a moment, pursing his lips and humming out loud. “I’d say it’s definitely on the cards.”

“With sprinkles?”

“What is ice cream without sprinkles?!”

His hand was a warm weight filling my own, swinging back and forth as he led me ahead, however, the gentle hold was gone abruptly as I was yanked backward.

“Where are your parents?” The man in the glasses gripped my chin, scanning my face.

Then, he too, was gone.

The room I found myself in was large and dimly lit, one wall lined with books and the other windows. There was a record player in the corner, atop an ornate side table. I gently navigated the needle to touch the vinyl, awaiting the beginning of the song.

‘You’ve got a cute way of talking

You’ve got the better of me…’

I danced around the room as the lyrics poured out.

“You make me feel like dancing.” I sang, swaying and spinning to the beat.

The first crash had me frozen in my spot, but that was the only warning before the door burst open. Light poured into the room, and I felt my blood turn cold. The music echoed through the house as I ran, the first man was much stronger than me, but I was small and quick, giving me an advantage as I slipped from his grip and under his arm. I could feel my heart racing in my chest as footsteps gained on me. Further, crashed sounded as I thrashed around in the arms that grabbed me. I pulled things from shelves and kicked out, knocking over décor and anything I could get my hands on, all in an attempt to grab ahold of a surface and pull myself free. Glass shattered across the floor, carnations and roses splaying as the vase disintegrated into shards. I could still hear the music as the cloth was placed over my mouth and the world began to fade.

I cried and cried and begged for it to end. The man in the glasses never even flinched as he wheeled the trolley before me, switching on the small box television where Giselle would appear, again and again. Wires were taped to me and I was strapped to a cold metal chair. The final strap laying across my forehead, forcing me to be still, ensuring I couldn’t look away at the ballet played out before me.

The man appeared before me again and I waited for him to ask me the same questions he always did. But when he opened his mouth, he didn’t ask me a question.

“Your name is Nadia Morozova. You were born in St. Petersburg, Russia on the 7^th of November. You are an orphan; you never knew your parents.”

I closed my eyes tightly as he repeated the words, over and over. When I opened them, it was just Giselle.

Tears were gathered in my hairline, leaving the sides of my forehead damn with more than just sweat. I felt fingertips dusting across the flesh ever so gently, pushing back my hair, wiping the tears. Then the cool cloth was back but the hand felt closer than usual. Anna had sat by my bedside normally, but now it seemed she was right beside me on the bed. I felt was warmth of the body beside me and when I inhaled a shaky puff of breath it was not her expensive perfume that enveloped my senses, but one that was nonetheless familiar. It was a struggle to open my eyes and when I finally managed to the room was barely lit making my groggy, heavily lidded eyes work even harder to make out the figure beside me. Even the meagre light offered by a few candles beside my bed was hard to adjust to. When my eyes cleared slightly, I felt a bizarre combination of what might have been utter relief and complete dejection. Relief that it wasn’t another nightmare or exhausting array of what I could no longer deny were memories but devastation that it was just another dream. Albeit a new one.

I let my eyes fall shut again, willing the heartache to subside.

“Nadia.” I felt the gentle touch of a hand sweeping over my cheek and when I opened my eyes again, he was still there, clearer this time as if I were slightly more awake. My eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Is this a dream.” My throat was still dry and sore as it normally was when I’d wake, voice barely even remaining.

He didn’t sound like him either as he spoke again. “No.” His voice was thick, weighed down with an unclear emotion. His eyes glistened and he swallowed heavily. When I only blinked up at him, he took ahold of my hand, lifting it to press against his chest where his heartbeat steadily against my palm. I closed my eyes tightly, an overwhelming stinging sensation making itself apparent as a waterfall of tears formed so quickly, they were streaming down my face before I could even process that they were there to begin with. “Don’t cry, please, I can’t watch you cry anymore.”

Both his hands took ahold of my face, thumbs wiping the tears from my cheeks as he pressed his forehead to mine. I held onto his wrists for dear life, with all the strength I had left in my body. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye.”

He shook his head fervently. “It’s okay, it doesn’t matter, not now.” The tears continued to fall no matter how much I willed them away. “You were right, I would have tried to stop you from going.”

I only held onto him tighter. As if he might disappear if I let go, like he was the only thing anchoring me to reality, to consciousness. We were both silent for a long time before my mind began functioning somewhat akin to normal. “Wait… how did you find me?”

“Anna called.” He pulled back ever so slightly to look into my eyes. “She said you were progressing well, so Ross was allowing you to have a visitor.”

I still felt groggy, and words were not so easy to form yet I felt more alive in this moment that I had in some time. “But aren’t you supposed to be on assignment?”

Pietro’s eyebrows furrowed as he gazed down at me, eyes flitting across my face, confusion evident in his expression. Several beats of silence passed between us before he responded. “Nadia… it’s almost February. The assignment’s over.”

February.

I felt sick to my stomach as his words echoed over and over in my head.

That couldn’t be right. I’d left on Christmas day; I couldn’t have been in this cabin for over a month. Pietro moved to settle in beside me once more. “I guess I haven’t really been here to know.”

For a day there were no ballerina’s though the memories still jolted into focus occasionally. It occurred to me that the break was perhaps more for the sake of my sanity than my progress. Pietro lay by my side the entire day and when Anna took me to the small bathroom to help me bathe, as she had numerous times since arriving, he was waiting for me by the door.

I awoke sometime during the night or the early hours of the morning to hushed voices. Despite the low volume I could tell they were arguing.

“She is progressing.” Anna said matter-of-factly.

A scoff sounded from Pietro. “Progressing into what, madness?!”

“Do you really think I would let that happen?” There was silence between them for a moment, I knew Anna well enough to know she was attempting to gather herself. “That girl in there means the entire world to me, you find it hard to see her in this state? Try being here every day. Watching her writhe and cry and be so exhausted she can barely stand.”

“That is exactly the point! She shouldn’t have to go through that-”

Anna spoke up again, cutting him off. “No, she should not, Pietro. I wish she didn’t have to. However, she is never going to get better unless she can confront the things that are demanding to be remembered.”

“There is nothing wrong with her.”

It was Anna’s turn to scoff now. “I don’t think you really believe that, but the fact that you’re sticking with it is exactly the reason you weren’t allowed to come with her, why you weren’t given the clearance to know this location.”

I turned over in the bed, facing the opposite wall and closing my eyes tightly as they continued to bicker.

“Can we not argue about this right now?”

“I just don’t understand why you can’t take one day off!”

“Darling… You know how important this meeting is and how much pressure I’m under right now.” A few more words were exchanged but I couldn’t quite make them out. “You do know the line of work that I’m in. I can’t just take a day off when I feel like it.”

A beat passed before I heard the door open and close. The silence carried on for a while, I kept my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.

That was when the humming started, soft, almost inaudible. When I opened my eyes again there was no Pietro, nor Anna at my bedside. Instead, there was a blonde woman whose face was turned away from me. Curls falling over her shoulder as she reached for something on the bedside table, a different room I realized. The walls were white but in a way that was neat, rather than sterile. There were things hanging, pictures that I couldn’t make out and, on the wall, just past the woman was a large canvas print, I narrowed my eyes to read it, but my efforts were fruitless, I could see blurs of flowers and pink but couldn’t make out any of it beyond that. A cool cloth was pressed to my head again. The humming grew louder, and the song seemed familiar though I couldn’t place it at first. The sound of a door opening and the clicking of dress shoes against hardwood flooring joined the symphony, pulling my attention away from the woman. I noticed his brown hair and eyebrows, but I couldn’t quite make out his face, not until he sat on the side of my bed, gazing at me with an uncanny warmth. His mustache made him a recognizable figure in my mind. He took ahold of something that lay beside my legs atop the duvet, holding it with two hands and sizing it up for a long moment.

“Here’s your arty bear, chickadee.” He spoke softly, wiggling the stuffed teddy bear beneath my arm. He leaned over me slightly, adjusting the duvet to tuck me in a little tighter.

I opened my mouth to speak but before I had the chance I was sent tumbling though my mind once more. The crashing that came before the door was thrown open, the music playing from the record player and then I was back in the metal seat with Giselle playing on the screen before me.

I’d lost track of how long I had been sitting here for, forced to stare at the television; it might have been days.

“What is your name?”

I stayed silent. The question was repeated and when I didn’t answer that time a sharp electric shock travelled through me making me flinch hard despite my attempts to appear unaffected. “You tell me.” I ground out over my pain; hands clenched into fists as best I could around the restraints.

“Up the shock level.” The man spoke.

“Are you sure?” A new voice, one I’d yet to hear. “She’s only small, I’m not sure she can handle much more.”

I looked around frantically, searching for a way out, anything that could help me. “Up the shock level and do not question me again.”

“Yes, Dr.”

“Your name is Nadia Morozova. You were born in St. Petersburg, Russia on the 7^th of November. You are an orphan; you never knew your parents.” I shook my head. “Repeat it.”

“No.” An excruciating pain travelled through every inch of my body. I screamed at the pain only grew as the moments passed. When it subsided, I was short of breath and shaking violently. The man in the glasses told me to repeat it once more. “No.” I echoed my earlier sentiment, bracing for the pain that rushed through me shortly after.

There was silence for a long few moments but my head was so fuzzy from the jolts I hardly noticed. The strap around my forehead was the only thing keeping me upright. “It ends whenever you want it to, Nadia.”

“That’s not my name.” The pain was so intense then that I barely had time to register what I’d just said.

I lurched upward, a high-pitched cry falling from my lips, my entire body seizing in agony. The restraints were gone I realized though they’d been replaced with the warm weight of someone’s embrace. When I opened my eyes, Pietro was clinging tightly to me, eyes shut tightly, cheeks damp with tears. I was shaking so hard I felt dizzy. The more conscious I became the less the pain felt real but when it passed the exhaustion set in once more and I collapsed back against the bed.

I attempted to wipe the tears from Pietro’s eyes but the energy to lift my arm was hard to find. “It’s okay. Don’t cry, please…”

Pietro finally opened his eyes, gazing at me with a profound sadness that made it all so much worse. He shook his head. “How am I supposed to leave you like this?”

I took a deep breath, attempting to steady my shaky limbs and clear my mind enough to find a response. “You will go, with the knowledge that soon I’ll be better, and I will be back to taunting you in no time.” I attempted to force a smile onto my lips to reassure him, though even I was unconvinced by my words. Pressing my cheek against his chest I clung to his shirt, finding comfort in the warmth, the familiarity. For a long while we just laid there, the only sound my ragged breathing.

“Did you know what you were saying, when you wrote me that letter?” I furrowed my eyebrows as much as I could in my exhaustion, eyes still shut. “Inima mea îți aparține.” He murmured.

I shook my head. He cradled my head as it fell against his chest, stroking the hair back in a comforting gesture that did little to stop the impending grasp of sleep. Just before I drifted off, when I lay in a state somewhere between consciousness and slumber, he spoke again, though, I could not say for certain whether the words were really his or just another dream.

“My heart belongs to you.”

Chapter Text

The cool surface beneath my palms allowed me to remain present in this moment, that and the sound of Anna guiding me.

“Alright, now turn around and walk toward me.”

I took a deep breath, pushing off the wall and ignoring my aching muscles as I walked feeling the smooth floorboard beneath my feet, creaks echoing through the room on certain steps.

It was February, that, I knew, things had been getting better recently. I’d been more conscious than previous and even able to force myself out of bed. The memories would sometimes come over me like a tidal wave, rendering me powerless to their fervor, though most of the time I could surface on the other side of them mostly unscathed. Dr. Norris had been monitoring me closely, alternating now between showing me the ballerinas and images that he expected might trigger a response. I had learned that his expertise was dismantling the conditioning done to sleeper agents, hence, why Ross had selected him for me.

He wasn’t cruel like I’d expected and most of the time he seemed almost displeased at the toll remembering had on me.

I took the stairs slowly, reveling in the sunshine that warmed my skin and the cool breeze tousling my hair. The doctor was seated at the small table before me, skimming the pages of his notebook. When he noticed my presence, he gestured to me to take the seat before him. “How are you feeling, Nadia?”

I shrugged slightly. “Better than before.”

He nodded, making a note of something. “You’re making good progress. From what I can tell it seems your memories are becoming clearer, more linear as well.” Norris tapped his pen against the paper, glancing over at me. “I’d like to try and delve deeper into the memories you see most often, flesh out more details. The plan I’ve drawn up is to categorize each memory to a room, then perhaps recognizing the room with trigger more associated recollections.” I nodded, glancing down at my hands. “How do you feel about that?”

“Does it matter?”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Well, this will work a lot better if you’re a willing participant.”

“Sure. Categorizing my past into rooms, why not.”

“You appear tense.”

I swallowed heavily, taking a deep breath to settle myself. “Just going a little stir-crazy. Your plan makes sense, I want to try it.”

Dr Norris nodded slowly, placing a small device onto the table between us. When he pressed the button on the side music began playing from it, a tune very familiar to me. I closed my eyes as it filled my ears.

“I want you to focus on the sound of the music, and let your mind go back to the memory.” I did as he said, recalling the room, the record player, the dancing. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t recognize this place.”

The faint sound of a pen scribbling on paper filled my ears. “What does the room look like?”

With a heavy exhale I let the music wash over me fully, focusing on the memories that flooded my mind, holding onto them tightly. “It’s dark.”

“What is making it dark? Are the lights out? Curtains drawn?”

“No…” I hesitated. “I don’t know, it’s nighttime I think.”

‘You’ve got a cute way of talking

You got the better of me

Just snap your fingers and I’m walking…

Like a dog hangin’ on a leash’

I pushed two large wooden doors open to enter a room that was warm, dimly lit, and most notably, silent. The record player sat in the corner beside a stack of old vinyls that were kept in perfect condition. I ran my fingers across the plastic pockets, skimming the labels to find one I wanted to listen to.

Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles, the doors, I sat the discarded records beside myself carefully, sitting cross-legged on the dark grey rug. I hummed as I continued to search, not quite sure if I knew what I was looking for or not. Yet I paused the moment I reached the last album in the stack, bright blue with clouds on it and a man jumping. I felt a giddiness in my chest that suggested perhaps I had known this album was there all along. Moving to kneel beside the record player I ever so carefully slipped the vinyl onto the deck and maneuvered the needle to where I wanted it; Side A, track 2.

The hum of music filled the room, a bouncy and vibrant song, one that I knew. I swayed as I moved to my feet, tapping my feet to the beat that echoed into the room. When I turned around, I spotted the yellow glow of flames, a fireplace. The warmth pressed into my skin, the main source of light in the room. I smiled as I danced, but it all changed when the crashing came, a culmination of sounds, the shattering of glass the most prevalent.

I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t, it was as if I was no longer holding onto the memory, but it was holding onto me.

The music was drowned out by voices, all fighting for dominance in my psyche.

“I’m going now!”

“You’re a child.”

Then the door was thrown open and light blinded me, but this time I fought to see. I paid attention as I ran, I saw photo-lined walls and décor scattered around the rooms. When the hands grabbed me, I kicked and threw my body around to slip from their hold, my foot caught the glass vase of carnations and roses. I managed to get away only to trip on something that I’d knocked down in my fervor.

I never saw their faces but there were two men.

Anna looked tired when I saw her, dark circles pressed into the flesh beneath her eyes. Though for the first time in weeks, I saw more than just exhaustion and remorse, now there was something like hope reflected in them.

Dr Norris told me that the hard part was over, that we’d made it past the block that was in my mind and now it would be much easier to sort through my memories, not completely frictionless but less taxing overall.

“Try to picture the men in your mind.”

“I didn’t see them.”

The music was still echoing through my mind. “You must have seen something, hair color? Scars?”

I’d fought like hell. Even though they were bigger than me, even though I was a child I used every fiber of strength in my body to resist. I reached behind myself to push at the man who attempted to pin me to the hardwood floor, presumably to better his grip and restrain my wriggling limbs. I hit and pushed at any part of him I could reach but it was futile as he wrenched my arm down to hold it at my side. Everything was blurry and my face was against the floor. I never saw anything notable about the man behind me, but then the second one approached, it was his boots I saw first, black and scuffed but clean, nonetheless. They were professionals, never giving me the chance to catch a glimpse of their faces, though in their rushed movements, they missed something, I could see it clearly now the tattoo on his forearm as he shoved a black bag over my head. Within moments a sharp stinging sensation pricked my neck and everything slow and groggy.

My mind was whirring as the tattoo flashed in my mind, distinct, thick black lines. A mark I’d seen before, more than once. The skull and tentacles. The mark of Hydra.

I decided against mentioning that to Norris.

I’d be able to bear it; remembering. Most importantly, I’d be able to function without losing it. This was the basis of the contract I’d signed had Ross’ name on it, though I was certain it had taken a copious amount of convincing. It detailed the conditions of my return to the compound. Dr Norris would sign off on my reinstatement with the expectation that, upon my return, I do not lead any assignments nor participate solo until it was agreed by both Ross and Norris that I was fit, after an evaluation that I suspected would be grueling. Dr Norris would also be continuing his work with me to fix my mind back at the compound. There would be an extensive amount of supervision from Steve to ensure I was both following these rules and not reverting.

I re-read the paper again and again, almost unconvinced that this was really happening, the thought of being so close to freedom, or a semblance of it, was almost unimaginable.

The documents were given to me on the first day of March, 2 weeks later I was staring at the doors that I’d snuck out of 3 months ago. Anna stood a few paces behind me talking to someone on the phone. Norris was finalizing his reports for Ross, he’d arrive at the compound 2 days from now. I was sure Anna had already told the others that I was coming back, the same way I was sure they were attempting to give me some space to breathe. My hands were unsteady, I realized as I reached for the door handle.

“What are you nervous about?” Anna asked, shoving her phone into her pocket and coming to stand beside me.

I shrugged, swallowing over the lump in my throat. “I-It’s just weird, I guess. Being back here.”

She nodded slowly. “It would be, but you should feel proud of yourself, you did what you had to do, you got through it and you’re doing much better.”

“Am I?” She was silenced by my question. I turned my head to look at her then. I thought of the days, weeks when I was barely conscious, barely even there. The suffocating heat, the sweat that clung to me like a second skin, the phantom pains that were only just beginning to fade. “I don’t ever want to go through that again.”

She closed her eyes for a long moment, shoulders sagging slightly. “You won’t.” She spoke with conviction. “I know it was awful, but you came out the other side of it, you always do. You won’t have to do that again, no matter what. We’ll figure it out.” I stared at her, unmoving and completely silent at her words. “Nadia.” She urged me.

I nodded then, looking back toward the door. She stepped behind me, pulling the hair back off my shoulders before placing her hands there and ever so gently nudging me toward the door. “Oh, for fucks sake.” I pulled the door open and forced myself to walk over the threshold in one fluid motion.

“That’s my girl.” I heard Anna murmur, encouragingly. She parted from me returning to typing on her phone. The shattering of glass filled my ears as I stepped into the kitchen. Natasha looked between the broken glass and me, panic evident in her gaze. A combination of shock at seeing me back and on some level concern that the noise might trigger me into an episode. I clenched my hands into fists at my side, part of me felt sickened by the thought, the other part was just as worried that my mind would betray me again. My body stiffened, every muscle strung tightly as I looked at the puddle of water on the floor, when the moment passed and nothing happened, I let my eyes move up to hers, before noting Steve, Sam and Wanda all looking at me from their seats at the table. I let my fists loosen and exhaled a shaky breath.

“That was exactly the warm welcome I was hoping for.” A teasing lilt was evident in my voice. When the corners of Nat’s lips curved upward the tension in my shoulders eased slightly.

“Nads.” She breathed, relieved. She walked toward me but stopped short clasping her hands together as if to control herself. There was a strange moment of silence before she spoke. “Can I hug you?”

I bit back a smile, pretending to think about it. “If you must.” The words were barely out of my mouth before she was yanking me into her arms. Embracing me tightly. I let her hold onto me for dear life, even wrapping my arms around her in response. When she pulled away, I saw the others smiling up at me. I rolled my eyes at them all. “Don’t think that means it’s a free-for-all all now.”

Steve stood, a gentle smile on his lips. “It’s good to have you back, Nads.”

I nodded, looking at my feet momentarily. “It’s good to be back, Cap.”

“Thank god, Pietro was seriously driving me up the wall.” Sam groaned walking by me with a teasing grin, but I could see his sincerity beneath the taunts. Anna gave me a knowing look then.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll find someone to put up with you one day, Samuel.” A familiar voice spoke from behind me. The rest of the tension in my shoulders fizzled out as the voice washed over me. I waited a few beats before turning back to look at him, as if steadying myself for the feeling of getting to be with him again, while fully conscious this time. The look on his face almost knocked me over, just as I’d suspected it would. It was tender, almost a smile but there were so many other emotions present in his expression at the same time. He had on a baggy dark green T-shirt with light grey sweatpants and his hair was a little messy, I thought maybe he’d been in the training room. “You look… better.”

Wanda’s snicker echoed behind me. “How romantic.”

Pietro sent a glacial look to his twin sister, groaning in pure frustration, the last thing I heard before I was enveloped in a blur of silver and green. When the world slowed down Pietro was shutting the door of his bedroom and turning to face me. “I feel better.” I finally answered.

“Really?” He sounded so genuinely relieved at my words that I almost didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was more to it than that. However, not talking had never worked out very well for me before so I tried something new.

I shrugged slightly. “Mostly, better.” His eyes seemed to glitter as he watched me, nodding gently as I spoke. “It’s hard… I’m really tired and the things I’m remembering…” I swallowed heavily for what felt like the millionth time. Sitting down on the edge of his bed. “It changes so many things for me and that is really terrifying.”

He moved to stand before me, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear and tilting my face up to look at him. “Thank you for telling me.”

I nodded, staying where I was and just gazing up at him for a long while. There was nothing more I wanted than to just stay here in this moment. It had been over 2 months of round the clock torment and complete powerlessness and I was utterly drained. For the first time in my life, I was willing to admit that I just wanted to be reassured by someone else that everything was going to be okay. I wanted to be reassured by him but by some stroke of luck, I didn’t need to ask him to do anything. He just knew. Today seemed to be a day of acting uncharacteristically I thought as I stood before him and threw my arms around his neck, embracing him tightly. His arms wrapped around me instantly, as if it was a thoughtless act to him, I realized then that I envied his ability to give affection so freely. I took a deep breath and held onto him tighter, feeling the stinging begin to form in my eyes. If I were a different person, and if I were more like him maybe I would be able to say back to him what he had told me when he came to see me in January. Those words I was barely conscious to hear, that I couldn’t be certain he’d really said.

But I was me, so I didn’t. Instead, I let the embrace linger. I stayed like that because this, now, is what I could give him.

“I just want you to be okay.” He murmured against the flesh of my neck.

“I will be.”

Sleeping at the compound, in my bed with Pietro’s deep, calm breathing beside me was the most at ease I had been in months. When I slept that night, it was a restorative sleep, one that allowed me to actually begin to work away the weary exhaustion that had made its home within me.

…

It was a week before they let me begin training again and I was itching to use my muscles. I had attempted to contain my excitement, but I’d just about raced Natasha to the training room. Exhilaration shot through my veins as I stretched on the mat. I sat down with one leg extended outward and the other folded in toward my body, turning to crack my back before reaching for my pointed foot and bending my upper body over the limb. I repeated this on both sides before moving to extend both legs in a wide ‘v’ shape and laying my elbows on the floor to fold my body over.

“I’m just not sure how good of an idea it is to go full throttle into training after such a long break.”

I shook my head. “That break is exactly why I need to train again, Natasha.”

“These last few months couldn’t have been easy on you, Nads. Maybe we should take a beat.”

“They weren’t easy. It was two and a half months of barely being conscious, barely being alive. I was confined to the walls of a tiny little cabin in the middle of the forest and not allowed to do anything other than remember.” Her eyes softened as she regarded me. “I am going to lose my mind if I have to be idle for much longer.”

Natasha let out a dramatic exhale that had a smile breaking out across my face because I knew I’d convinced her. I adjusted my ponytail waiting for her to say the magic words. “You are such a pain in the ass, seriously.” She groaned, tossing the roll of hand wrap at me whilst she stretched.

I snorted, wrapping my hands in record time before hopping back and forth between my feet, shaking my jittery anticipation out. “You’re going soft.” I taunted bringing my fists up in a defensive motion.

She sparred with me, as agreed. However, her jabs were weak, and she barely fended off any of my attacks. It was evident that she was coddling me, and it was driving me mad. I pulled back from her, dragging a hand over my face with a frustrated exhale. Steve’s voice calling out to her cut me off before I had the chance to question her. I rolled my eyes as she shrugged at me with feigned innocence.

I tilted my head back, rolling my neck on my shoulders.

“You know I’m a little offended.” Pietro’s voice had my eyes popping open again, I felt warmth radiate from him as he moved behind me.

I sent him a glance over my shoulder, a little smile playing at my lips. “Pray tell?”

He circled me, coming to stand only a few paces from me. “You didn’t ask me to train with you. I thought you were supposed to be my sparring partner.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, lips curving up at his words, and feigned look of hurt. My hands fell to my hips, his eyes following the movement. “No, because you would’ve gone too easy on me.”

“You’ve been out of action for over 2 months, there’s no reason to rush back into training.”

I rolled my eyes heavily at that. “Jesus, what, did you and Natasha rehearse that?”

Pietro flashed me an amused grin. “We didn’t need to because it’s the truth.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t ask you to spar with me.”

In an instant he was directly before me, so close his chest would likely graze mine if I inhaled deeply enough. “I still would have sparred with you, Prinţesă.” He caressed my cheek with an affection so intense it had my cheeks heating slightly. “I just would have been gentle.”

“Pietro, will you please spar with me?” I spoke with a teasing tone, though, there was sincerity beneath my words that I knew he heard.

“I’d love nothing more, Nadia.”

His chest brushed mine as he moved to stand behind me causing a little smile to spread across my lips. I turned to face him, swiftly jabbing with my left hand but he dodged it smoothly, blocking the next hit just as easily. He attempted to circle me, but I stepped out of it, elbowing him in the back as I went. He groaned but a little smirk played at his lips.

“Are you going to do something or just keep standing around?”

Amusement seemed his only reaction to my playful quip. “What would you like me to do?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Surprise me.”

Within an instant he had me, dropping down and grabbing around the backs of my thighs before pivoting to throw off my balance and take me down to the mat. I awaited the impact but all that came was the gentle cradling of arms lowering me to the ground. Pietro half-heartedly pinned me down, smiling sweetly above me when I opened my eyes. “Stop being so gentle, fight me properly.”

“But I much prefer doing other things with you.” His eyes danced across my face as he spoke, mapping an invisible path between my eyes and then each freckle. I shoved him slightly with my hand that he’d barely been restraining.

“You are so annoying.”

His smile only widened at my harsh words. “Did you like my move?”

As hard as I tried, I could not fully fight the smile fighting to make a home on my lips. I hummed. “I didn’t teach you that.”

“You didn’t.” He bumped his nose with mine. “You wanted me to surprise you, so...” His lips descended onto mine, but the moment was short-lived before I turned my face away causing him to kiss the flesh of my cheek instead. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“I’ll kiss you when you spar properly.”

The way his lips curved at my words was nothing if not utterly tempting.

“You’re very cruel.” He pressed another kiss to my cheek before moving down to my jaw. I held my breath in order to focus my mind which was quickly descending into the haze of his cologne and the feeling on his lips on me.

“Not cruel, just a quid pro quo,” I responded amusement no doubt shining in my gaze. He huffed at me as I turned my face from him again when he attempted to steal another kiss.

“Fine. I’ll spar you with you properly… If, and only if, you promise to take a break when you need it and not force yourself to keep going.”

I nodded up at him, struck by the startling beauty of his face from this position. It was peculiar and a little silly to me that even after seeing it so many times I’d still be so taken aback by his bright blue gaze and heavy, dark eyelashes. I could always throw our deal out the window and just kiss him, but then again, I was far too competitive for that and anyway he’d already agreed.

I hummed, moving swiftly to lock my leg around his hip and throw him off of me. Pietro laughed breathily and he returned to his feet at lightning speed. It was a relief to my body to be moving again, using the muscle memory I’d spent my life perfecting. The warmth of my limbs as I ducked and weaved was a strange comfort to me and it had the added benefit of allowing me to clear my head completely for the first time in months. Pietro was still being extra gentle but at least he was actually giving me a little more to work with now.

I swept Pietro’s leg from beneath him, pulling him to the ground and pinning him with a light-hearted laugh. The smile that spread over my lips had my cheeks pinching from its fervor. We both breathed heavily as we momentarily rested. Pietro watched me intently, a soft smile tugging at his expression, eyes just a little brighter than normal. He leaned up on his elbows and I let him, moving back slightly to straddle lower on his waist. I planted my hand on the mat beneath us, now only a breath away from him. His eyes danced between my own and my lips. I leaned down a little further, before diverting and moving to whisper in his ear. “Break time is over.” With that, I moved from him swiftly. He dropped down to lay flat on his back, groaning dramatically.

“This is some bullshit.” I turned to him with a hand on my hip, eyebrow raised. “He didn’t back down, lifting himself to sit upright and face me. “I held up my end of the deal.”

I snorted. “Barely.”

He rolled his eyes at my words, putting his hands behind his to lean back a little with an exceptionally glum look. “I don’t want you to overexert yourself, is that so wrong of me?” I crossed my arms over my chest, biting back a smile at his theatrics over being denied one kiss. “Is this really what I get for being a caring boyfriend?”

I laughed heartily, shaking my head in disbelief. “You are such a drama queen.” I grabbed ahold of his hand, helping him up. When he was on his feet, I placed both of my hands over his cheeks, tugging him downwards to plant a kiss on his lips. He made a slight sound of surprise, but I felt him smiling against me.

“You are so soft for me.” He mumbled when I pulled away. It was my turn to huff, shoving him away before gesturing for him to get back into a defensive position. I turned away from him momentarily to tug the hooded sweatshirt from my body as I felt sweat a thin layer of sweat begin to form over my flesh. When I met his eyes again his eyebrows were knitted together, and he’d crossed his arms over his chest.

“What?” I asked, confusion evident in my tone.

“Are you being serious?” He nodded toward the dark blue sports bra that covered my chest. I looked between his and my top, still baffled by what he’d gotten his back up about. “You are not really acting like that’s a coincidence.”

I let out a quiet laugh, narrowing my eyes at him. “Pietro, I have no idea what the hell you are talking about?”

“This is very distracting!” He gestured at my body, before throwing his hands up.

Silence sat heavy in the air for a long few moments, it was me who broke it when I burst out into a fit of laughter. Complete shock was running through my body at the realization of what he was referring to. The man before me did not look amused in the slightest. “You are being completely ridiculous.” I managed through my laughter.

He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Okay, Nadia.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s spar.” He took a step toward me, pausing for a moment to grab the back of his shirt and yank it over his head, tossing it aside. I snorted at his antics. “What? It’s hot.” His tone nearly sent me into another fit of laughter, but I swallowed it down, moving to circle him for a second. I jabbed at him, but he dodged effectively. His swift movements on the mat nearly tripped me but even in this new state of hyper-awareness that he was demonstrating, I still had the skill advantage, having had much longer to hone my abilities. I ducked beneath his arm when it shot toward me slipping beneath and attempting to strike from behind but in a blur of silver, he’d caught my wrist and moved to face me. I yanked backwards to free myself, but he tightened his grasp, twirling my arm over my head and pulling back in one exceedingly fast maneuver, my back colliding with his chest. I could feel his breath hitting my ear, making my heart thud harder against my chest.

“What have I told you about relying on your enhancement.” I breathed out, words far harder to spit out than I’d expected. His bare skin was warm against mine.

“Not relying, just utilizing.” His words were a murmur in my ear, tone low, challenging.

I felt the corner of my lip curve upward at his snark. His nose grazed the skin of my neck, lips following shortly after. It wasn’t a kiss; he just wanted me to know he was there. He thought he was winning and maybe he was, my eyes fluttered for just a second but then who would I be if I allowed him to win so easily? I let my body lean back into his, letting him think he was melting me. One of his hands still held mine behind my back, the other moved to squeeze my hip slightly. I leaned my head back onto his shoulder, meeting his eyes, nose bumping his. In his belief that he was in control, he loosened his grip on me, chasing my lips just slightly. With practiced precision I side-stepped and yanked my hand from his grip, ducking his attempt to grab me once more and instead grabbing ahold of his upper body and pulling him backward to trip him over my leg. When he looked at me with disbelief I only smiled. “I thought I taught you better than that.” I rolled my shoulders, watching his puff on his back.

When his eyes met mine and they had a softness to them that was almost indescribable I felt something deep within my chest that was unfamiliar and a little concerning. He held his hand toward me, pouting like a wounded animal and there was no part of me that wanted to leave him there and that was the moment I officially realized that I had absolutely gone soft for him. Shit.

I extended my arm to him to help him up, however, the second he’d locked on I noticed that familiar glint in his eye, but he was yanking me down to the floor with him before I had time to properly register it. He caught me in his arms easily, grinning cheekily in the face of my feigned glare.

Chapter Text

Lagos, Nigeria

I tightened my ponytail, adjusting my position atop the motorcycle.

“Eyes on target folks,” Steve spoke over the comms before telling Sam to tag a garbage truck. I narrowed my eyes, spotting his strange bird-like robot shooting through the sky.

“That truck is loaded for max weight and the driver’s armed,” Sam said.

I started the bike as my mind ticked over, revving the engine. “It’s a battering ram,” I murmured over the comms.

“Go now,” Cap said. I released the break, speeding toward the café where Nat stood from her table abruptly. “He’s not hitting the police station.”

I grabbed Natasha’s arm, dragging my foot on the ground to slow down marginally before pulling her onto the bike behind me. I heard the crashing and saw the explosion of dust in the air as the truck rammed through the gate of the Centre for Infectious Diseases. A blur of silver and blue zipped by me, following the others into the wreckage, my lips tugged upward slightly. “I’ve got eyes on Rumlow,” I spoke spotting the black zipline from the south of the building, extending to a truck.

“He has a biological weapon,” Steve informed.

“We’re on it,” Nat responded as we closed in on the men surrounding the truck. “I’ll take the left side you take the right?”

 I nodded, turning the bike sharply to allow her to leap off before I sped up and dropped the bike to the ground, rolling off of it as it pummelled toward one of the guards. Another turned to me after hearing the commotion and ran forward, cocking his gun and aiming it for my head, the shot never made it through the barrel as I sent a widows byte shock into the center of his chest. I grabbed him and used his as a pole to vault and kick the next guard in the chest, when the first was down I blocked the punch that was thrown my way and grabbed a hold of his wrist, in a single maneuver I ducked beneath his arm and pulled it to the left causing the bullet he fired to hit his colleague who had been running at me from behind.

“How many of these fuckers are there?” I muttered to myself.

I could hear Natasha fighting someone beside the truck but spotted another of the guards on the roof, readjusting his gun to aim it at her. I jumped onto the bonnet, yanking his ankles to make him fall onto his back, disarming him was easy but he certainly put up a fight until I slammed his head against the windscreen, cracking it and rendering him unconscious. I glanced to the side to check Natasha’s position when a sharp pain shot through my scalp. Rumlow’s dark, fury-filled eyes met mine as he yanked me to my feet by my hair. I pulled the knife from my leg strap, jamming it into his thigh and twisting, prompting him to let go of my hair. When I was freed from his grip, I turned to strike him in the neck, the only exposed flesh I could see. He blocked my attack grabbing a hold of my arm, I twisted to kick him in the side, but he held tight, so I punched him in his bleeding wound, he groaned; part frustration, part pain. He threw another punch which I dodged easily, punching him in the ribs when he was turned. His elbow came back hard into me, but I landed two more punches before he managed to get a hold of the back of my neck. I slammed my fist into his arm again and again, but he didn’t even flinch, yanking my head back. His rough gloved fingers dug into my nerves, sending pain shooting down my neck. In retaliation I jammed the base of my palm beneath his chin, sending a shocker into his neck. His grip only tightened, making my eyes narrow. He laughed dryly.

“I don’t work like that no more, Pimenova.” He shouted yanking me downward by my neck and forcing me to fall through the hole atop the truck. Two men were sat by my feet but I paid them no mind, glancing up to see Rumlow peering down at me with a look of maniacal glee in his eyes as he pulled the pin from a grenade. “Bye-bye, Nadia.” The metal clinked as it hit the ground by my feet. Rumlow slammed the entrance closed, ticking filling my ears. A split second passed before I was on my feet, grabbing the first guard who stood by the barrel of his gun and slamming it back into his head. I heard shouts of my name over the comms as I twisted the second man’s arms and pushed him in front of me to block the brunt of the explosion that followed shortly after.

My body slammed into the metal doors at the back of the truck before being launched outward onto the hard ground, a ringing in my ears blocking out the chatter on the comms. Grass tickled my cheeks as I lay there coughing my guts up, eyes fluttering as the light blinded me. I let out a cut-off grunt of pain as I moved, struggling to lift my head into my hands. I heard another call of my name, garbled like I was underwater. A hand grabbed my shoulder and I blinked hard to force my eyes to adjust to the light. Blurry red hair filled my line of site.

I pushed off of the ground to sit up more. “Nat, Nads, come in.” Steve addressed over the comms, worry evident in his tone. I gave Natasha a thumbs up before rubbing my hand over my face, the ringing sound finally clearing.

“We’re here, Nads is okay.”

“Rumlow’s in an AFV heading north,” Steve responded.

I accepted Natasha’s hand, letting her help me up. “I’m really beginning to not like that guy,” I muttered. A streak shot by me before my face was enveloped within warm hands. Pietro’s bright gaze tinged with concern as he scanned my face.

“What the hell happened, are you okay?”

I held onto his elbow nodding fervently. “I’m fine, I promise, you need to go after Rumlow.” He seemed unconvinced but nodded at my words eventually, after a final nod from me he shot off after the truck. I ran toward the discarded motorbike, pulling it up. “Come on, I’ll drive,” I called to Nat who shook her head playfully at me as she hopped onto the back of the bike.

“They’re splitting up.” Sam’s voice filled my ears. I sped up, navigating through the entrance of the market.

“We’ve got the two on the left,” I responded bringing the bike to an abrupt stop and launching onto the bonnet of a car before running over it. I could hear Natasha’s footsteps close behind me as I ducked and weaved through the stalls, vaulting over a cart that got pushed into the way. I had the two men we were tailing in my sites, but they diverted down a side pathway.

“He doesn’t have it. I’m empty.” Sam said only making me run faster. I dodged civilians as I moved to run parallel to one of the men, curving and jumping onto a table to tackle him to the ground, we both rolled through the dirt after the collision. He pulled a gun from his belt but I grabbed his hands before he could aim, pulling his arm up and forward to punch him in the stomach. With a swift turn, I slammed his hand onto the table hard making him drop the gun. He managed to kick me in the stomach, making me stumble slightly but I caught myself quickly, running at him and stepping onto his bent leg to jump up and lock my legs around his upper warm, swinging myself down, causing him to be thrown back into the dirt. I landed on my feet again, pulling the gun from the belt, but the cocking of a different gun stopped me in my tracks. I turned to see the other guard holding Natasha around the neck, gun aimed at her head. I turned to aim my gun at the man behind her.

“Put it down.” I narrowed my eyes at him, pulling the slide back, a metallic click sounding between us. “Put it down. Before I put her down.” He pressed the gun further to her head. I calculated the time it would take me to pull the trigger allowing for his reaction time.

The previous guard cleared his throat, causing my eyes to flicker toward him. “Drop the gun or I’ll drop this.” Between the tips of his fingers was a vial of red and yellow liquid; the specimen they’d stolen from the disease center. I swallowed heavily, eyes flickering between the two men before I met Natasha’s gaze, the slightest twitch of my expression was all it took for her to nod, Sam’s strange bird robot descended a moment before I shot the man behind Nat in the head. The robot shot the other man causing him to drop the vial but before I could react Pietro shot by me, the wind tousling my hair. In mere seconds he was standing before me with the object in hand.

 “Fucking hell.” I breathed out. “Payload secure. Thanks, Sam.” I added glancing toward his robot.

“Don’t thank me…”

I rolled my eyes moving to help Nat up. “I’m not thanking that thing.” I nodded toward the metal bird that was still hovering by my head.

“His name is Redwing.”

“Good for him. I’m still not thanking it.”

Sam tsked. “He’s cute, go ahead, pet him.”

I ignored his teasing approaching Pietro who smirked at me before nodding toward the vial between his fingers. “Pretty hot, huh?” I raised an eyebrow at him opening my mouth to respond but a load explosion sounded nearby, windows shattering and flames filling a wing of the large building beside the market. The force of the wreckage threw Pietro and I backward, the vial flying out of his hands, I launched forward, dropping and rolling across the gravel to land beneath it. My heart was thudding against my chest, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding when it was safe in my grasp. When I moved back to my feet Pietro was more focused on the building that was in flames than the fact that whatever was in the bottle could’ve just spread. When I looked upward, I realized why. There were people screaming and running around from within the fire.

I heard Steve ask for fire and rescue, but I felt rooted to my spot.

Wanda was devastated. That much was evident even in her silence that stretched the whole trip back to the compound.

We’d stayed after the mission was complete, assisting search and rescue to evacuate as many people as possible. No one made it out unscathed, those that survived were barely holding on.

She was just trying to help. Rumlow had a bomb vest, a lot more people would have died if she did nothing. That is what we’d all told her, though it was obvious she didn’t believe us.

Pietro wasn’t unaffected by what had happened either. He’d looked almost haunted as he watched the flames emerge from the windows, heard the screams and pleas for help. I kept a close eye on him on the way back, attempting to decipher what he was feeling. When we arrived at the compound barely a word was exchanged between any of us, there was an air of exhaustion and defeat hanging around that no one wished to linger in. I strayed from Pietro then, opting to head to the bathroom after I’d watched him wander down the hall to his room. I scrubbed the dirt and defeat of the day from my face, deciding to shower after, eager to check on Pietro before I worried about ensuring my hair no longer smelt of smoke. When I could no longer feel the grime clinging to my cheeks, I made my way down to the kitchen to find Steve leaning over the bench, wringing his fingers together whilst staring off into space. I paused in the doorway surveying him for a long moment, he was so out of it that when I spoke, he jumped slightly, evidently startled by the sudden presence.

“If you think any harder your head will explode.”

He pressed his lips together in a sort of tired smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m guessing everyone else has retired for the night.”

I nodded slowly. Noting the look in his eyes, guilt and… maybe sorrow. “It was a shitty day,” I spoke. Moving to grab a plate from the cupboard and select an assortment of foods; some berries from the fridge, a bread roll, some cheese, and a bottle of water. He didn’t speak as he watched me assemble the items. The only acknowledgment was a quiet hum from him.  I walked toward the doorway, glancing back at him. “I know that you’re the leader of this strange motley crew… but not every loss is yours to bear alone.” I looked down for a second before meeting his eyes. “You should know that, Steve.”

He swallowed heavily, nodding once, twice. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… a shitty day.” He nodded again.

“Feed yourself and go to bed. Tomorrow might not be so bad.” I told him, gesturing toward the second plate I’d left out on the bench filled with food.

Steve smiled at me again, but this time it seemed more genuine. “Thanks, Nads. You know-” he paused momentarily, as if searching for the words. “I’m glad you gave us a chance that day.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Even if you weren’t convinced we had much of a team back then.”

I shrugged gently. “Well, I guess I didn’t have anything better to do.” His chuckle followed me down the hallway and despite my nonchalant exterior that he seemed to be able to see through in that moment, I smiled to myself when I was out of the room.

A dim glow could be seen under Pietro’s door, letting me know he’d yet to go to sleep, though I had suspected as much. I knocked gently waiting for him to invite me in before I opened the door. He didn’t look up from his lap as I entered. “We talked about this. You don’t need to knock, just come in.”

“Well, I’d hate to walk in on you when you’re indecent.” I teased, hoping to lighten the mood a little. He didn’t respond to my words, continuing to look down. That was when I knew something was really wrong, I’d given him the perfect foundation for a dirty joke, and he hadn’t so much as given me a suggestive look in response. I swallowed heavily, glancing at the door for just a moment, considering giving him some time alone. Maybe he wanted space to think. However, I knew that my instinct to leave was more out of a hesitancy to be vulnerable than anything else and I wasn’t doing that, not to him, not anymore. I took a step forward, if I left now, he’d make himself sick with the thoughts occupying his mind. He’d fought for me to open up before to save me from drowning in my sorrow, I could do the same for him.

I sat down on the bed across from him, placing the plate between us. His hair was dry, debris still clinging to it, indicating that he’d also yet to shower. “What are you thinking about.” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, still looking down at his lap. I reached out for him, placing the palm of my hand against the side of his face. Thumb caressing his cheekbone gently. “Pietro,” I whispered. When he finally met my eyes, his were brimming with tears. I sat the plate on the side table, moving closer to him. Both of my hands fell to his then, grasping them as I attempted to decipher the look on his face. “Please tell me what’s going on in your mind.”

He attempted to blink the tears away, but they did not go so easily. “The way they were screaming, the crying, the crumbling building… I-it was just like Sokovia.” I tightened my grip on his hands, nodding at his words. “She only wanted to help; I know that. But that’s also what we thought we were doing when we were working with Ultron.”

I said his name quietly, hoping that if I began to speak the right words would come to me.

When he looked up at me then the emotion in his eyes devastated me. His eyes were shining with the tears that sat along his waterline, soon joining those that had begun to stream down his cheeks. “How do you do this?” I furrowed my eyebrows slightly, unsure what he meant. “How do you know the right thing to do? We keep trying to help but it seems like we only make everything worse.”

I let go of his hands to wipe the tears from his face, with one I pushed the hair back from his head. Letting the other linger on his cheek. “We don’t. None of us know what the right thing is, all we can do is try, just like you.”

“But how are any of us supposed to know? It’s not right, having the power to just decide what should be done. Maybe we shouldn’t have so much power…” He hung his head.

“I don’t know, Piet. I’m sorry, I don’t know the answer.” He squeezed my hand before pulling me forward until I fell into his body. His arms enveloped me, holding me tightly to him. The pungent smell of smoke filled my nostrils, engulfing me even more strongly now that it was not just me who smelt it. I ignored it, running my hand through his hair. “Please don’t torture yourself,” I murmured against his neck. He buried his face further into my hair.

At some point we separated, agreeing that we both needed to shower, I hoped that the hot water could wash away some of the tension in him. The warmth of his hand filled mine when I turned toward his bedroom door, planning to make my way toward the shower nearest my own room. He tugged me back toward him slightly and he didn’t need to speak, I could see it all over his face. Even for me, someone not always the most adept at understanding others, it was evident that he couldn’t stand the thought of being alone right now. Despite myself, I went easily, with only some hesitation and then I followed him into the bathroom and began to peel off my clothes as he fiddled with the tap in the shower. He pulled his shirt over his head, not meeting my eyes as he began to undo his pants. I stepped into the hot shower whilst he removed his underwear. A moment passed and then I heard the door glass door close and felt him move closer to my back. I opened my mouth to say something, but the words died on my tongue when I felt his finger graze over the scar that traveled from the top of my shoulder blade to the middle of my spine. It had faded over the years now white and barely visible unless someone stood as close as he did.

 When he spoke his voice was quiet, it didn’t sound like he was crying anymore but he certainly did not sound like himself. “I’ve never seen this one before.”

“It’s old.” I matched his volume, barely audible over the spray of water hitting us.

“The Red Room?”

I nodded. “I was little.” I wasn’t sure why I said it, as if it were explanatory; contextual.

He asked me how it happened.

I told him it didn’t matter. Because it didn’t feel important to me now, not when his eyes had looked so very devastated while we’d sat on his bed. The Red Room and its various inflictions were the furthest thing from my mind.

“It does.” He was absolute, there was a seriousness in his voice that confounded me. I wasn’t sure why he seemed so prepared to die on this hill, but I wondered if maybe it was merely the easiest distraction for him right now. A momentary respite from the thoughts and sorrows plaguing his mind.

I swallowed, tilting my neck from side to side to relieve the pressure. “I was on assignment and back then hydra agents had a penchant for killing widows and taking the credit for our assassinations. I was young, inexperienced, too slow to realize he was behind me. The agent was a shit shot but the bullet shattered a glass door, and I went rolling through it when we were fighting.” Soap-suds covered my shoulder blades as he ran his hands over my tender muscles, cleaning the dirt from my flesh as I spoke. “They had me back in training the following day and some of my stitches popped, they refused to redo them because they wanted the scar to be a reminder of my weakness.” I heard Dreykov’s voice saying those words to me as I spoke to Pietro.

“How old were you?”

“11.” He stiffened, hand stilling on my shoulder. I looked down at my feet “I couldn’t complete the assignment… there was another girl with me, an older Widow. She killed him… because I couldn’t.”

I felt Pietro step closer to me. “You shouldn’t have had to.” His voice was thick with something I couldn’t understand. “They gave you scars because you were a child who did not want to kill.”

“They had to break me so that they could mold me into the person they wanted me to be.” I turned to face him, taking in the pensive look on his face. My hand fell over his bicep, thumb rubbing back and forth as I scanned his face for signs of how he was feeling. “It was a long time ago. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed heavily. “Pietro,” I murmured.

It was a long while before he spoke. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you ever again.” His arms wrapped around me tightly, pulling my chest flush to his and burying his face into the crook of my neck.

“Well, that’s a bit of a tall order, considering our line of work.” I rubbed my hand over his back, gabbing the shampoo from the shelf and massaging it into his silver hair. When I was done, I directed him under the water spray to wash the soap from him, running my hand through his hair to help it along. He gazed down at me the whole time.

“You know you’re very distracting, hm?”

I asked him what he meant.

“It is very hard to be sad when you are naked in front of me.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. I rolled my eyes playfully at him. “You’re an idiot.” His smile grew slightly. “But I don’t want you to be sad so maybe that’s a good thing.”

That night as I lay beside him, stroking his hair because he’d asked me to, and if this brought him even a semblance of comfort, I’d do it, I remained awake for a long while. For a time, I gazed upon his face, studying each of his features from the tip of his nose, along the bridge, and then across his dark eyebrows. He grasped the back of my shirt tightly in his hand even after he’d fallen asleep, his arms wrapped around my middle, head a comforting weight against my stomach. He’d slept like this nearly every night since I’d returned from Brazil. I wondered if it was his way of ensuring I couldn’t slip out whilst he slept again. He’d told me he forgave me for my sudden disappearing act, and I believed him. He truly didn’t seem to hold it against me; however, it was evident that our abrupt separation had not left him unaffected.  I thought about what he’d said earlier, how do we know what the right action is? It certainly felt like a lot of our actions lately had been the wrong ones.

In the morning, I took my time wandering down to the office Dr. Norris had been meeting me in.

“How have you been feeling since we last spoke? Still no sudden episodes?”

I shook my head, fiddling with my fingers. “No…”

“You seem unsure?”

“There haven’t been any episodes, but I have been remembering things. It’s not as overwhelming as it was before but things are coming back to me.”

Norris made a note in his booklet. “That’s good, Nadia, it’s what we’re trying to accomplish, we want to deconstruct Hydra’s conditioning to free your mind.”

I nodded slowly. It was bizarre to me, having things come into focus the way they were, without all the pain and loss of reality. The calmness with which these things returned to me almost made me disbelieve that they were really mine. Truthfully the images that I saw in my mind disturbed me, partially because it was incomprehensible that I could have merely lost so many years of my life from Hydra’s conditioning and also because I wasn’t sure how to piece them together. How did any of it fit into who I am now? There is a whole life with these recurring characters whose faces I can never quite make out with complete clarity, and it is so foreign to me, but my mind urges me to open myself to it. There is a part of me that begs to be connected to this unfamiliar past.

I still couldn’t bear to listen to that song, dream a little dream of me. It didn’t bring on an episode anymore but whenever I heard those notes, the soft humming of the woman’s voice would always follow, the remnants of who I had once been.  Letting go of it seemed the only logical answer to me, it was in the past. I am not that child anymore and I will never be her again. Holding onto it would only make everything worse. That was what I should do, let go, let the memories pass through my mind, and then release them. It was for the best.

However, when I lay in the quiet of the night, with nothing but my mind and Pietro’s gentle breaths to keep me company, I could not help but fade into it. Let the humming fill my ears, let it warm my chest like warm milk and honey. F.R.I.D.A.Y. hadn’t been playing the city sounds lately, I hadn’t asked her to. Pietro was enough of a reminder of where I was, and the dark walls of the Red Room were not the ones I lived in when I lay warm beneath my blankets.

“If Hydra were trying to recruit you, why would they try to kill you?”

The question took me by surprise, pulling me swiftly from my thoughts. I met Pietro’s eyes from across the table, furrowing my eyebrows as I thought for a moment about his words. “I suppose when I was a widow, I was just a faceless soldier, we did not have individual identities we were just assassins. Or perhaps it was their inability to kill me that sparked an interest.” I shrugged slightly before raising an eyebrow at him. “Why do you ask?”

He shook his head, looking down at his hand. “It was just on my mind.” I gnawed on my lip.

“I don’t pretend to understand how Hydra thinks and it doesn’t really matter now.” I reached across the table to touch his hand for a second before pulling back. “Put it out of your mind.” There was something in the look he gave me that stuck with me. I furrowed my eyebrows ever so slightly, mentally checking each corner of his face for a tell. It wasn’t clear to me what it was, why I felt the need to do a double-take. I shook off the strange feeling, doing as I’d told him to and putting it out of my mind. It’s just my perpetual paranoia, echoes of the life I’d lead.

Pietro nodded, not meeting my eyes for a long moment but when he did the small smile, he gave me made me forget all the strangeness and the air of exhaustion that lay thick over the compound. His hand slid across the table to chase my own, fingertips grazing over the smooth flesh. I watched intently as he pulled my hand to his lips to press a whisper of a kiss against my knuckles. Even when I was shaking my head at his sappy antics my lips still curved upward. My inability to bite my smile had his own growing. “You’re really very beautiful. You know that?”

“You’re just realizing?” I taunted, biting my lip to contain my amusement.

He shook his head, a breathy laugh falling from his lips. “No. No, I’ve known that since the moment I laid eyes on you, it’s very irritating.” I snorted, rolling my eyes playfully. He tugged my wrist suddenly, pulling me to stand between his legs. My forearms rested over his shoulders as he held my hips, fingers pressing gently into the flesh. “Every time I look at you, I feel like I’m going crazy.”

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, smile fading as I became aware of my heart thudding in my chest. “Sorry,” I murmured.

He laughed a little. “No, you’re not.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel crazy.”

“You don’t have to try.” Pietro pulled me closer to him, his chin grazing my ribcage as he looked up at me. I swallowed heavily as his hand slid down my leg to rest over my thigh which was revealed by the soft shorts I wore. His fingers flexed over my flesh, fingertips pressing into the back of my leg teasingly, just as he’d done to my hip. “You still haven’t told me how hot it was when I caught the vial.”

I shook my head yet again, taking a step back, he let me go, hands drifting from my body leaving it cold. “You are astoundingly sure of yourself.” His eyes mapped the path of my arms as they crossed over my chest. “It’s very irritating.” I mirrored his earlier words. He smirked at me.

Before I could even comprehend it, he was up and our chests were flush, he held my hip in one hand, the other tucking a lose strand of hair behind my ear so he could whisper in it. “I think you like it.”

I clenched my jaw, willing the smile to subside before narrowing my eyes at him. “I don’t.”

His grin only grew. “Oh, this again? You know how much I love it when you're mean.”

“You’re sick in the head,” I spoke turning and beginning toward the doorway, I barely made it a step before he’d spun me, pressing my back against the wall and claiming my lips with his. The moment we made contact my façade dropped, the previous game seeming much less fun in comparison to this. My hand slid into his soft hair, tugging slightly causing him to hum, my other hand pulled him closer by his shoulder. My back flattened against the wall with the force of his body, knocking the air from my lungs but that was the last thing I was focused on.  He pressed kisses all over my face causing me to laugh and attempt to dodge his incessant pecks, it was no use as he held me tightly and kissed me again and again. “Pietro!” I attempted to speak between his onslaught and my laughter, but it was very difficult. When he found my lips again, I squeezed his arm slightly. “Not here.”

In the blink of an eye, my back was hitting the soft, cushioned surface of his bed. I maneuvered my way on top of him, pinning him down to allow myself some respite. He smiled up at me adoringly. I let his arms go but remained straddling his middle, hands planted against the duvet as I hovered above him, wiggling my eyebrows teasingly at him. His smile grew. Out of my peripheral, I saw one of his arms raise and I expected him to attempt to flip us or offer a suggestive touch, yet his palm planted itself firmly against my spine, smoothing up and down the arch of my back. His other hand wrapped around one of my forearms that lay by his head, not a tight grip but a comforting presence that left a warm spot in its wake. After a long moment of adjustment, I let my head drift down toward his, pressing a tender kiss to his lips before resting my forehead atop his. It was intimate, exceedingly so, and perhaps at one time it would have frightened me, sickened me, but it was Pietro. That thought alone soothed any doubt that crept into my mind. My eyes fell closed.

“You were wrong, you know?” He hummed questioningly in response to my words, prompting me to continue. “Yesterday you said that you keep making things worse, but you’ve never made things worse for me.” There was a long silence between us and when I opened my eyes again his content expression had faltered, a break in his moment of serenity.  I studied his expression for a long while. “Did I say something wrong?”

He shook his head immediately. “No, no of course not.” His hand came to cradle my cheek. The words were frantic as though he really needed me to hear them, but he still seemed withdrawn. “I just- it’s been a long few months and my head is all over the place. I’m sorry, everything’s fine. You didn’t say anything wrong.”

I narrowed my eyes, unconvinced by his words. That niggling feeling from before returned. I sat up, letting his hand drop from my cheek. He chased me, sitting upright as well, hands now resting on my thighs once more.

“Pietro…” I swallowed heavily before placing my hands on either side of his face, thumb caressing his cheekbone. “Didn’t we agree that we would tell each other the truth, I’m sorry that I haven’t always done that but I’m trying now. Really, I am, please don’t start keeping things from me.”

The way his face fell further into something distraught had me re-evaluating my words. Was it what I’d said or was there something deeper eating at him? He glanced between each of my eyes before swallowing heavily. Finally, he opened his mouth to respond but the familiar voice of F.R.I.D.A.Y. filled the room before he could speak.

“Captain Rogers wishes to speak with Pietro in the conference room at his earliest convenience.”

I sighed softly, moving to my feet and offering him my hand to help him up. He looked to the door and then back at me, eyebrows furrowed. “We can talk later.” I crossed my arms over my chest, nodding once at him, forcing a tight-lipped smile onto my lips. He shot me one final glance before leaving the room.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

I smiled at Pietro from my place behind the kitchen bench, he sat talking to Sam about one thing or another, the topic wasn’t of much interest to me but the fact that he was out of his bedroom and engaging in human interaction was a good sign to me. He wasn’t completely over what had happened in Lagos, and I knew feelings still stirred in him about Sokovia, that was evident. However, he had seemed slightly more at ease since our last conversation, when he’d made a declaration that frankly turned my brain into a jumbled mess incapable of forming an adequate response. Instead of offering a verbal acknowledgment I merely hugged him, ran a hand through his hair, and let it trace a gentle path down his spine.

No one had ever said something like that to me before. I wasn’t sure I had ever actually been loved, not in that way, wasn’t sure I even knew how to be loved like that.

I could not speak to him as he’d spoken to me. There were no words, none that adequate in that moment. There was no part of me I could find that felt even marginally ready to respond in kind to that. So, I remained quiet, offering only gentle affection to him as a signal that I did not disdain him for his feelings.

It was unclear to me whether that would be enough. Part of me hoped that my prior confession of just how much the prospect of losing him had frightened me might offer some consolation for my inability to readily give that part of myself.

His eyes met mine whilst he nodded along to Sam, hips lips curved upward faintly in my direction. I smiled back. As I gazed at him my mind wandered back to two days prior, when he embraced me tightly in his arms.

“You do not have to say anything, I only wanted you to know.”

My smile widened, confusing me slightly. Natasha moved to stand beside me, grabbing a slice of apple I’d just cut and taking a bite. “He seems to be feeling better.”

I hummed. “He is… I just hope it lasts.”

“It’s nice. Seeing you like this, so invested in someone.” I glanced over to Natasha whose expression signaled there was a but coming. “Just don’t spend so much energy trying to keep him afloat that you go under.”

“I’m fine, working with Dr. Norris is helping, my mind is clearer than it’s been in a long time.”

She nodded, though it was evident that she was not entirely convinced. “I know, Nads. I’m glad you’re doing better, but I want you to keep doing better.”

“What are we talking about?” Pietro asked, plopping down into one of the bar stools that sat around the opposite side of the counter.

I shot him an unimpressed look. “None of your business.”

He smirked at me, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s alright to say you were speaking about my handsome face.” I snorted as I finished the pieces of fruit on my plate, sliding the dish into the sink before meeting his eyes once again.

“Contrary to what you seem to think, the whole world does not revolve around your ‘handsome’ face.”

Both his dark eyebrows rose, lips curving up further. “I’m happy to see you have become so open in admitting how handsome you find my face.”

Natasha snickered to herself, slipping away to take a seat at the table with the others. “I’d say you are annoying, but I fear you get too much enjoyment out of that.”

“Baby, I get enjoyment out of every name you call me.” I rolled my eyes but was unable to quell the smile that spread over my lips. The warmth rising to my cheeks prompted me to look down at my feet momentarily though I forced myself to meet his eyes again soon after. His cheeky expression had turned soft as he leaned on his palm, gazing at me tenderly. “Will you come for a drive with me?” He slid his free hand across the table, palm side up toward me. I looked down at it, biting down on my lip to stop my smile from growing any further. Pietro raised an eyebrow at me as if he knew what I was doing. I lifted my hand up before dropping it down into his. His fingers curled around it, caressing my knuckles and tugging me around the bench and toward him. He didn’t let go of my hand as he stood and walked toward the door.

“Where are we going?” I finally asked, glancing out the rear window as he drove away from the compound.

Even then, his hand held mine.

“We are taking a day off.”

I opened my mouth to question him again but decided against it. Instead, I settled into the seat and watched as the scenery blurred past. When the hum of a familiar song began to fill the car, I reached over and turned it up a few clicks, earning a small smile from Pietro.

“What? I like this song.”

His smile grew as he began to hum. “Slow down you crazy child and take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while.” He sang, eyes flashing to me for a split second before he looked back ahead. “When will you realize, Vienna waits for you…” I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head as I breathed a laugh.

“You are so weird.”

His laughter chorused mine. “I don’t know I just like it when you’re happy. It makes everything feel… just better.” I gazed at him as he spoke, unsure how to respond. My mind seemed to go a little mushy and I didn’t recognize the feeling warming me from inside out. The afternoon sun streamed in through the window, making his eyes sparkle even more than normal and bathing him is this warm glow that seemed to radiate outwards. There was a moment when I was looking at him then that I thought maybe I could say it back. “Have you ever been to Vienna?” His question took me off guard, bringing me out of my stupor and back to the passenger seat.

“I… haven’t, no.” There was a beat of silence before I continued. “I was meant to. The last assignment I was on in Saint Petersburg wasn’t originally given to me. I was assigned to an American politician who was in Vienna at the time, but the assignments got switched before I left.”

Another beat. “Why.”

I shrugged. “They were never particularly forthcoming about their decision-making.”

Pietro squeezed my hand then. Thumb smoothing over the top of my knuckles. “Maybe we could go sometime. It might be nice to get away, just the two of us a proper holiday, no working.”

I squeezed his hand back, watching him intently, wordlessly. Yet again, I found myself at a loss for the right words, but I was unable to look away from him, almost entranced by him. My eyes traced over his features like a tender caress, following the curve of his jaw and the flutter of his dark eyelashes. Something foreign propelled me forward out of my seat, I leaned over the center console and planted a kiss on his cheek. He glanced at me in surprise, eyebrows lifting ever so slightly, lips curving upward. I kissed him again and again all over the side of his head.

“That is very distracting for the driver.” He teased, hand finally releasing mine to smooth over my hair.

I slid back into my seat, a soft smile pressed over my lips. He drove about another 25 minutes before beginning to pull of the road. When the car was parked, he looked over at me. I raised an eyebrow at him after taking in the scenery around us, it was beautiful but there was nothing here except a wide-open expanse of land. We were up on a hill here, overlooking plenty of greenery and in the distance, I could make out the township. We could barely see the main road from here and there was not a soul to be seen here. “Are you taking me out here to kill me or something?” I taunted.

“No, smart ass, I saw this look-out when we were coming back from the Christmas tree farm months ago and I thought it would be the perfect place to watch the sunset.”

I held my hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry, it just seemed like one of those ‘no one will hear you scream out here’ places.”

He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow and that devious little smirk, causing me to roll my eyes immediately. “Well, I mean that’s not necessarily a bad thing…”

I punched him in the arm playfully, shaking my head at his snicker. “And here I thought you were trying to be romantic but just a gutter brain.”

He shrugged. “Both things can be true.” I could feel his eyes on me as I looked out at the line of trees below. “You told me that sunsets are your favorite color.”

He was nonchalant as he said it, like it was merely an insignificant observation and not everything. Maybe it was just because I was unused to people so casually knowing things about me, remembering details that I’d perhaps mentioned in passing. I allowed my eyes to pass over his face once again, taking in each detail as if it was the last time I’d ever see him. He met my eyes, smiling softly before leaning over the center console just as I had done and kissing me tenderly. I melted the moment his lips touched mine, any tension that had existed leaving my body as my fingers sunk into his soft, silver hair. His knuckles caressed my cheekbone, tracing a path down my flesh until he reached my shoulder, opening his hand to run the palm down my arm, goosebumps awakening in the wake of his touch. His hand eventually landed on my hip, thumb slipping beneath the hem of my top and smoothing over the bare skin beneath. “You’re very warm.” He murmured against my lips, tightening his grasp ever so slightly. I sunk my teeth into his bottom lip, a kind taunting maneuver. The sound he made had me pressing my lips to his more fervently. It felt like burning alive, the feel of his hot breath on my lips, his hand squeezing my hips, holding on for dear life. He pulled me forward on my seat, prompting me to slide over the gear stick and onto his lap, knee-deep in the driver’s seat, straddling his lap. His hand slid into my hair, mirroring the position mine had held, he tugged it once, firm enough to cause my head to tilt back but not enough to actually hurt me. I raised an eyebrow at him, surprised by his audacity. He mostly ignored my expression of disbelief, though I felt his cocky little smirk press against the column of my throat. My lips parted at the feeling, eyebrows knitting together as I squeezed his shoulder tight, his shirt bunching beneath my fingertips. His hands moved lower, first sliding down my thighs and then back up, tugging the hem of my skirt up just slightly, a suggestion. I felt myself becoming putty in his hands, a tingling sensation running through my body, it was undeniable who had the power right now. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to mind.

My hand slid from his neck down the center of his chest until it fell over the button of his jeans, though I merely grazed the tip of my index finger over the metal. His lips had separated from my neck as my hand began to travel south, watching intently. His forehead fell against my sternum as I made no move to go lower. I’d yield to him having control, but I certainly wouldn’t go easy on him. “God, you’re such a tease.”

I hummed, letting my finger trail back up his chest to lift his chin upward, tilting his head back. My lips curved in amusement as I hovered over him. “And what are you going to do about it?”

His head fell back against the seat, a breathy laugh falling from his lips. The muscle in his jaw flickered and he narrowed his eyes for a split-second before they traveled down over my chest and beyond. “I’m sure I can think of something.” Pietro’s lips had only just grazed mine again when the buzzing of my phone on the passenger seat pulled my attention from him. His grip tightened on my hip momentarily. “Ignore it.”

I tried, letting the call ring out and letting the feeling of his hands and lips carry me away on a wave of bliss. It was easy to focus on him in this position, however when the buzzing began shortly after it had stopped. A breathy laugh fell from my lips as Pietro groaned exasperatedly. I reached over to grab my phone, seeing Nat’s caller ID pop up.

“Hello.”

“Hi, where are you?”

I furrowed my eyebrows, using the heel of my hand to push Pietro back by his forehead so I could focus on what Natasha was saying with the intoxicating heat of his lips pressing wet kisses into my throat. “What’s going on?”

A beat of silence. “A package was delivered for you today…”

I snorted. “Okay, why the cryptic call? Oh god it’s not from Amazon, is it?” I asked tauntingly.

“Nadia.” My smile faltered at the seriousness in her voice. “A package was delivered to the compound for you today, there were no stamps and no postal address, it was hand delivered.”

Pietro’s eyes met mine as the smile completely dissolved from my face. The radio stayed off on the drive back to the compound. I watched the trees pass by; my mind ticking over what Natasha had told me on the phone.

 “So, you told me that in your last session with Norris, you were getting a clearer image of the man and boy… Have you remembered anything more since?” I glanced over at him, elbow resting against the door, propping my head up with the palm of my hand. The corners of my lips twitched up again. He was trying to distract me, pull my mind away from my worries. I allowed my free hand to fall over his shoulder, squeezing gently and rubbing my thumb back and forth as I continued to gaze at him. For the remainder of the drive, I told him everything I began to remember, the clarity I was gaining, I told him about the peonies and the boy with the cigarette; the one who’d danced with me for hours and spun me around until the room span. He listened intently throughout, hanging off of my every word, and when I told him that I think the man I remember was my father and that maybe, just maybe the boy might have been my brother he held my hand tightly, a reminder that he was here, and he wasn’t leaving any time soon. My heart raced, head spinning as I admitted it for the first time, my entire life I had refused to believe, to dream or so much as suspect that I had ever belonged to someone, to a family. Never for a moment had I allowed the thought to linger that maybe I was not always alone.

There was this warm beautiful feeling in my chest that was entirely unfamiliar, but it was tinged with something that ached. The real reason I’d never given into the idea of a family, the bittersweet knowledge that I had once belonged to them and now I did not, that maybe I did have something before, but it was all taken from me, and I’d never get it back. I didn’t say that part to Pietro, but maybe I didn’t need to because in the lingering silence that fell over us, he squeezed my hand before bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle, comforting kiss to my knuckles. He didn’t say a word but between us, that gesture spoke volumes. I heard him loud and clear, and my eyes began to sting as I looked at him.

When we entered the compound, there was no part of me that felt uneasy with Pietro’s hand pressed into the small of my back, not guiding, but reassuring me that he was still there. I’d just about forgotten that there was an eerie package with my name on it waiting for me until I took in the apprehension written across Natasha and Steve’s faces.

“Tony took it to the lab to screen it, he’s just testing for any signs of any harmful substances or weapons.”

I nodded, running a hand through my hair. “Did you see who delivered it?”

It was Steve who spoke up then. “Yeah, he was just a kid, got paid anonymously to pick up a package from a storage locker and drop it off here. He didn’t know anything.”

“Should I be worried?”

He sighed deeply. “It could be nothing… it is concerning that someone went to the trouble to have this package delivered here to you, if it were a friend or someone you knew why get a stranger to deliver it?”

I met Natasha’s eyes then. Steve told us he was going to see how Tony was tracking before heading down toward the lab. “It’s not him, Nadia,”  Nat spoke up, it unnerved me how well she knew me.

“I know that.”

“Good, so put it out of your mind.”

Pietro looked from me to Natasha and then back again. “Not who?”

“Dreykov,” I muttered

Natasha piped up quickly. “He’s dead.”

I nodded again. “I know. It isn’t him.” I did, yet my nerves were still shot; a symptom of all those years in that place I supposed, and then the subsequent years where I lived in fear of being found out and dragged back.  There were months after I’d gotten out when I could barely leave the house because I was so afraid. The concept that, even in death, he could still get to me was maddening.

It felt like an eternity, waiting for Tony to finish his tests. When he and Steve finally surfaced from the lab the sun was setting, reminding me of Pietro’s words as we’d sat in the car earlier. It would have been a beautiful place to watch the sunset if only life would stop getting in the way.

Tony placed the package down on the table before me. It was a small box taped shut with no identifying stickers or logos. I sliced the tape open with the knife remaining on the table from breakfast. “Nadia.” Steve stepped beside me, an apprehensive look on his face. “Maybe you shouldn’t open it right away. It could be anything.”

I looked back down at the box. “It’s been scanned, there were no signs of anything suspicious. I’ll be fine.” With that I flipped open the top flaps on the box, the room was so quiet that the shuffling of the box sounded explosive. A note sat at the top; the first words scrawled across it had me hesitating momentarily.

Subject 114

With narrowed eyes I lifted the note out of the box, eyes scanning the rest of it.

If only you knew.

Beneath the note lay a manilla folder and a flash drive. Natasha separated from the group then, murmuring about finding a laptop to plug the drive into. I opened the folder first, eyebrows furrowing, confused by what I was reading. It seemed to be a play-by-play of us chasing Ultron. As if someone had been observing and taking notes, though, as I read on I realized that this was not a study of the team but a study of me.

It was everything.

The way I fought, commonly observed moves, which style I favored most, and how I analyzed my surroundings to gain the upper hand. I flipped through the pages rapidly, the words sticking to me like a second skin, one in particular had me pausing. It described in depth how I had reacted to Wanda digging in my mind, what I’d said, my body language. Below there was a separate note.

Visions of red?

Loss of control over instincts.

When Natasha returned, I yanked the laptop from her hands, jamming the drive in and bringing up the folder embedded. When it opened a tapestry of betrayal unfolded. Images upon images, and a single video at the end. It was like my throat was closing over, like my heart was going through a paper shredder as I clicked through the images. That familiar tentacled skull tattoo taunted me, a familiar face adding insult to injury. I hit play the instant the video popped onto the screen. There was no footage, only voices, a phone call I realized.

“Have you collected the information we agreed on?”

“Yes.”

The knife twisted in my gut. The video played on like a cruel reminder of what happens when you let your guard down. It was like I could feel everything I thought I’d built crumble and disintegrate in my hands. The pages of notes, the agreement alluded to on the phone call, all of it wrapped around my throat until I felt like I was choking. I slammed the laptop shut, chest rising and falling rapidly, heartbeat thunderous against my sternum.

When I saw the look in his eyes, I think I stopped breathing altogether. I did not need to ask if it was true, I saw it all in that beautiful blue gaze.

“Nadia...” He managed to croak. Hands rising as if he were attempting to quell the temper of a snarling animal. I gripped the file so tightly the spine crinkled under my grip. The group parted the moment I turned, allowing me a path to exit. My body felt numb as I rushed away. The door slamming behind me barely reached my ears. “Nadia. I can explain.” His voice shattered the silence, stopping me abruptly in my tracks.

I closed my eyes tightly for a second, attempting to steel myself. When I turned back to face him, I felt jittery; on the edge of implosion. “Okay, explain then.” He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. “You have nothing to say?”

He looked down at his feet. “I tried to tell you… I wanted to; I swear.”

“Oh, you tried to tell me?” I ran a hand through my hair. My heart was beating so fast it was like I could feel it rattling through my body. “Maybe you should’ve tried a little harder!”

“You already hated me so much… I did not want to give you another reason not to trust me.”

“So, you thought starting this relationship off with lies was the better alternative?” He shook his head, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. “What was it, they asked you to befriend me, get me to trust you? Or maybe they told you to seduce me?” He shook his head again, this time running his hand through his hair, making strands fall all over the place. It infuriated me that my mind still took a moment to note his beauty. I forced the thoughts away. “Is that why you’d always seek me out? How long was this going on for, Pietro? Were you still reporting to them while you were here? I mean it makes sense why you were so insistent on getting to know me, getting me to open up to you.”

“No! It wasn’t like that.” His eyes were frantic as they darted across my face. “I swear, Nadia, that’s not what this was. Please, please believe me! This,” He gestured between the two of us. “Was never about that. It was only before I knew you, what you read… what I wrote about you in the shipyard, that was the last time I sent them anything. I swear.” He took a step toward me, but I took a step back, the look in his eyes made my stomach twist. “Nadia.” His voice was wrecked when he said it, pained and full of remorse. I blinked away the stinging feeling in my eyes, attempting to maintain control of my breathing. This was the second time today that he’d brought me to tears, it was utterly disconcerting just how different the cause was. He took another few steps forward but instead of moving back, I put my hand up between us as a sign for him to stop. He took a bold step even closer, gently wrapping his fingers around my hand and pressing it to his warm chest. His eyes willed me to believe him, begged for it. “I’m so sorry, I know I fucked up. This is not how I wanted you to find out.”

I yanked my hand away from him, turning away so I did not have the witness the flurry of hurt and sorrow that crossed his face. “I get it, alright. You hated the Avengers back then and you didn’t even know me, so, what did it matter if you sold me out to Hydra?” I swallowed heavily, attempting to force the white-hot searing feeling down. When I spoke again it was much quieter. “I get it.” I closed my eyes tightly when he said my name so softly. “Just give me some time. Please, just… just stay away from me for a while.” I didn’t wait for him to respond before I left the room in a hurry.

The familiar walls of the compound blurred around me as I rushed down the hallways before shoving the doors open and gasping into the fresh air that burst toward me. I stood there for a moment before taking off, running out onto the grass, further and further. The air whipping around me and the momentum of my pace were the only things keeping me together in that moment. I ran for the trees, continuing until I could barely make out the compound behind me. I finally stopped at the edge of the water, gasping for air, clutching my chest tightly. My heart felt like it was going to explode with how hard it beat. The look in Pietro’s eyes taunted me, the betrayal that underpinned every moment of our relationship.

If only you knew.

Everything flashed before my eyes then, every moment, the tender looks, his soft words of reassurance. The warm grass beneath us as we lay in Central Park, his hand grazing mine. I thought about him assuring me that we would be friends even in the face of my ire.

His voice would not stop ringing through my head, even as I tried to force it out.

“It’s okay to be frightened, Nadia.”

“I don’t give a shit about the intel! Just like I didn’t give a shit about the mission in Russia, not if it means that you get yourself killed just to get the job done.”

I thought about how he'd known me from the moment we laid eyes on each other, yet now it all felt different; tainted with this huge looming secret. This quiet treason that he’d hidden for all this time. The sickening guilt I’d felt for not allowing him in, for pushing him away so many times, those all-fire survival instincts I’d prided myself on. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, and I couldn’t be bothered wiping them, or quietening the sound of pain that fell from my trembling lips.

When I closed my eyes I saw him, leaning back on the couch, head lolling to gaze at me as we watched stupid, soapy television. The feeling of his arms holding me while my body shook and convulsed in Brazil. The phantom of his finger dusting a loose strand of hair from my face, never allowing me to hide away. I fell down my knees by the water, allowing myself the respite. It was as if all the energy had been zapped from me. I should have known better, should have seen it coming. Maybe this is a punishment, the universe’s way of reminding me who I am.

I really did get it. His agreement with Hydra, he hadn't known me, he and Wanda wanted to destroy the Avengers, so why not pick us off one by one? A little extra vengeance. That much was clear, however, his keeping it from me for all this time, was what drove the point home. That was where it became murky and hard to reassure myself that everything since had been above board.

At some point, the sun sunk completely behind the trees and the air turned chilly, but still, I remained there on the grass, leaning back against a tree trunk. There were ripples decorating the surface of the water which distorted the moon’s reflection. When I was watching the smooth movements of the water, I could imagine I wasn’t really here, like I was a flower growing sprouting amongst the foliage, untouched by responsibility or the unyielding cruelty of the past. Because a flower only has to look up at the sun and gaze upon the water, no expectation other than to sway in the breeze and be just that, a flower.

This would all be so much simpler if I could bring myself to hate him.

Chapter Text

I couldn’t though. Couldn’t bring myself to hate him. I didn’t need days of soul searching to figure that out. It was so obvious that even I couldn’t deny it.

“I don’t mean to toot my own horn or anything, but I chose a hell of a piece of land to build this compound.” Tony’s voice filled my ears. I didn’t look up at him, having heard him stomping over branches ungracefully for the last minute. “Though, it’s not the most comfortable place to camp out overnight.”

“Just go, Tony.” I muttered. Movement roused my attention, I was surprised he’d given in so easily. However, instead ofturning and heading back in the direction of the compound he’d settled on the ground beside me. He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off before he had the chance. “No thank you.”

He sighed, but closed his mouth, looking out at the water instead. There was silence for a long while before he inevitably became unable to help himself. “None of us knew.”

“I know.”

He tilted his head from side to side. “It does seem like it was all from before… before you two knew each other.”

“I know.”

“So, are you going to hear him out?”

A beat of silence passed and again that stinging was back in my eyes. I clenched my hands into fists, focusing on the ripple across the waters surface. “I did.”

He hummed. “Right. Of course, it’s just that I’m not sure you really gave him enough time.” I narrowed my eyes at him, unsure when exactly he’d become so confident saying things like that to me. Although, I suppose maybe he’d always felt able to call me out. The day we’d met came to mind.

“Time for what, to come up with a lie?”

“Or to gather his thoughts.”

I shut my eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before answering. “It’s not… It isn’t what he did, Tony. I don’t care that he was communicating with Hydra before we knew each other. I mean, I do care about it, but that isn’t what’s getting to me.” My hand threaded through my hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. “The problem is that he lied about it. For all this time.”

Tony tilted his head side to side for a moment and I knew what he was going to say before the words even left his lips. “He didn’t really lie it was more an omission of truth.” The look I gave him had him backtracking immediately. “Right. It’s the same thing. I know. Sorry kid, I’m not exactly good at the whole comforting thing.”

“Why did you even come out here?”

He sighed exasperatedly, looking out at the still water before us. “Because I knew you were out here.”

I didn’t respond for quite some time and when I did it was quiet, barely a mumble. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I’m definitely not an expert here, but talking to him might be a good place to start.”

 …

The sound of pen on paper filled the otherwise quiet room. I lounged back in the armchair across from Dr. Norris, legs crisscrossed beneath me.

“You mentioned recalling the smell of salt in one of our sessions, I’d like to revisit that.”

“Why does that matter?”

He smiled a little at that. “Focusing on distinctive smells and sounds can be a good way to orient a given memory, it can be helpful to understand where you were when something occurred.” I was unconvinced but his tactics had proved effective previously, so I eventually nodded and closed my eyes, allowing him to walk me back through the recollection. He recounted to me the details I’d told him previously, setting the scene. “It was a warm day, you could feel the sun on your skin, the breeze in your hair. Are you outside, or is it from a window?”

I could feel it all as if it were happening to me right now, though there were still frayed edges that were unclear to me. “I don’t know. I think so, there is nothing blocking the sun, there are no walls.” The cheeky smile that had become familiar to me flashed through my mind, soft brown eyes gazing down at me. I tried hard to focus on my surroundings rather than the company. “I can still smell the salt, its strong but I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

“You said you were dancing, is there music playing?”

I could hear it, faintly, just over the clicking of my shoes against the concrete. The velvety hum of rhythm and blues.

Lean on me

When you’re not strong, I’ll be your friend

I’ll help you carry on…

When I looked down, I saw small feet in sparkly champagne-colored sandals and larger black leather shoes.

The boy taunted me about eating too much cake, how it’d make me sick. I thought about the cake, the way it had tasted, the color of the frosting.

It was crisp white with intricate piping along the sides. I recalled gazing up at the three-tiered masterpiece, on top of the third tier sat an ornament. The fork in my hand was golden as I stabbed at the buttery yellow interior; vanilla and lemon danced across my tastebuds. When I focused so hard it felt as though my hair might fall out the ornament came into focus, it was small and porcelain, a bride and groom standing side by side. It was a wedding cake.

That realization seemed to trigger a series of other memories. The beautiful white dress, puffy like a pastry. I remembered the way the way the tulle felt between my fingers and dark hair encased by a veil that glimmered under the sunlight. Then it was the softness of rose petals, swirling in a downward spiral as I dropped them. Concrete beneath my shoes as I wandered down the long pathway between rows of seats. A hand reached out toward me at the end of the aisle, manicured fingers and a shining silver bracelet the first thing I saw. Then it was the blonde hair as I sat beside the woman, her perfume startlingly familiar. The powdery floral scent that had drifted into so many of my dreams.

“Do you smell the salt where you are now?” Dr. Norris asked.

I shook my head, silence sitting heavily between us after that.

I couldn’t get that fragrance out of my head for the rest of the day. Vanilla, jasmine, citrus, roses. It was the perfect combination of each of those things plus others I couldn’t pin down.

I’d been a flower girl. It felt like another lifetime.

Such a simple concept seemed so incomprehensible. It was jarring to think of the softness, the smell of roses and the silky white dresses compared to what had become of me after. There was a time when I’d felt tulle brush over my fingertips and that wasn’t startling to me then, yet it was the cold hard metal on guns and knives that I became used to so quickly. That childhood was so clear in my mind, so conceivable. How could both things be true.

When the sun had well and truly set and most of the others were either eating dinner or had retired for the evening, I surfaced from the shadows I’d been clinging to while avoiding inevitable conversations. The training room was silent, long since abandoned by this hour.

I separated my ponytail in two, pulling hard to tighten it. My gaze narrowed in on the punching bag before me as I stretched my neck back and forth. The first crack of my fist against the bag sent a shot of adrenaline through me, my focus locked into what I was doing until there was nothing else.

When I was training it was like there were no thoughts but the movement of my limbs; the raw emotions that pumped through me. I used to always believe that when I was sparring, I was able to turn off my emotions, to become numb. It took me a long time to realize that really, I was just good at channeling what I was feeling into the power behind each punch. I hit the bag again and again, making my way around it, jab, jab, kick. When it didn’t feel like enough to drain the thoughts from my mind I hit harder. My heart thumped heavily against my chest, and I felt the sheen of perspiration across my forehead and chest but still I punched and punched.

“Jesus, what’d the bag do to you.” Natasha’s voice pulled me from my haze and when I pulled back, I was panting heavily, and a dull ache had begun in my shoulders. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. She grabbed the boxing pads and attached them to her hand. “Maybe lay off the poor bag for a minute and pick on someone your own size.”

I rolled my eyes at her, tightening the wraps on my hands and moving toward her. She held her hands up and for me to hit. When I’d caught my breath I jabbed her right glove once, then again harder before hitting the left one. I continued this pattern, finding my rhythm quickly. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I gritted out, throwing a particularly hard punch.

Natasha rose an eyebrow at me. “Well, judging by the tone and how hard you’re hitting right now, I’m guessing things remain unresolved?” I didn’t respond verbally, only continuing to jab again and again. “That would also explain why Pietro’s been so unusually quiet.”

“He’s a lot better at keeping silent than you’d think.”

I could tell by the look on her face that she was dying to meddle. “I think he’s quiet because he’s afraid.”

Her words had me veering back. I yanked at the wraps on my hands. “Because I’m so frightening right? Awful, cold, calculated Nadia?” Natasha’s eyebrows knitted together at my words but now all I was thinking about were the words I’d read on that page in Pietro’s folder. That is what he’d written about me, what he’d said to Hydra. Evidently, I wasn’t so good at hiding this from her.

Her eyes softened, the expression she held turned my stomach. “No, Nadia, of course not. I think he’s probably afraid of losing you.” The stinging was back in my eyes, there was so much on my mind, and I hated this weak feeling that coursed through my veins, and it was so fucking hot in this room I felt like I was suffocating.

“I told you I don’t want to talk about it.” My feet were moving before any words had the chance to leave her lips. I pushed through the doors of the training room, rushing down the hall toward my bedroom. Walking head down in such a hurry was an obvious oversight, another thing I should have seen coming. I gasped as my chest collided with another. Warm hands wrapped around my upper arms, steadying me. The second my eyes met his, I looked away, unable to stomach the look that had lived there for days now. I shoved past him only to be stopped by Steve, standing before us with a look that was equal parts discomfort and concern.

“Oh good, you’re both here.” He glanced between us, obviously sensing the tension sitting heavy in the air. “I just got a call from Secretary Ross’ assistant. He’s coming out to talk with the whole team at the end of next week.”

Just the mention of his name had me fighting a wince. If he was coming all the way out here it couldn’t be good. The reasoning for his last visit came to mind, I knew he was coming to talk to us about the mess in Lagos. It’d been all over the new this past month; inescapable.

“Oh goody, I can hardly contain my enthusiasm.” I muttered, walking away from both men. Not before stealing a single glance at Pietro to catch his expression to the news. He was less able to hide his wince.

It sickened me, the way my hand twitched toward him. The urge to comfort him seemed to clamp down on my heart until the pain promised to bring me to tears.

The next week and a half passed quickly, every day I’d get up before the sun and work out my complicated feelings in the training room. Then I’d eat breakfast before everyone else and spend the rest of the day finding new ways to avoid sympathetic gazes and the incessant questions. That was unbearable, but most of all I was avoiding having to look at Pietro’s face, the guilt that I knew would be written all over him, the ache in me that resounded every time I thought of what he was guilty of. The words he’d written in those notes echoed through my mind. I wondered if that was his only omission. I wondered what exactly had made him stop working with them. I wondered at what points he’d been telling the truth.

When Friday finally came around, I was so on edge that even hitting the punching bag until my fists went numb didn’t do the trick. The memory of that perfume still clung to me, stubborn, unyielding. It was still clouding my mind as I paced the corridor waiting for the familiar silver-haired man to emerge. The moment he did I pressed my palm against his shoulder, pushing him toward the sitting room. He put up no fight, going easily. When the doors were closed behind us, I paused, facing away from him.

“That is what you were so upset about, isn’t it?” I turned then. Pietro closed his eyes tightly, shoulders sagging. The breath I exhaled felt like glass. “Say it.”

“Yes.” He ran a hand through his hair, and I dropped down into one of the armchairs. “Nadia, I wanted to tell you so badly, I just didn’t know how. It was eating me alive. At first, it was just the guilt of being dishonest with you. But then, when I found out what Hydra did to you when you were just a child and then how they tortured you in Morrocco. It made me sick to think I’d ever helped them get anywhere near you.”

My head dropped down into my hands, eyes stinging. “Why didn’t you just tell me when you first arrived?” It would have been so much easier that way, all of this would’ve been much simpler. I could have lumped it in with everything else, it would have absolved him, made him trustworthy to me because at least he’d owned his mistakes. Now, over a year later, it was an entirely separate entity. It didn’t feel like some piece of the past, it felt so fresh.

“I’m sorry.”

“You mentioned that.”

He moved swiftly, kneeling on the ground before me, one hand over my knee while the other took ahold of mine. “I should have told you; I know I fucked up. Please, just… please don’t hate me.”

There was silence between us for a long while. “I don’t hate you, Pietro.” I finally met his eyes. “Of course I don’t. It’s not about that, it’s about trust, you lied to me-” My voice broke and the stinging in my eyes became unbearable. I couldn’t swallow it down this time, I felt tears gathering along my waterline. “You have lied to me about this every day since I’ve known you.” I clenched my hand into a fist, focusing on the pain of my nails digging into my palm.

Pietro’s face fell so completely that I felt my heart crack yet again. It was impossible to look at him when he looked so devastated. His eyes glistened like mine, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away, I scanned his face for any sign of familiarity, of the Pietro I’ve come to know. The worst part was that I found it, all over him was the man that had stepped into the darkness with me, broken down my walls and never given up, just like he’d promised.

“I will tell you anything you want to know. I will tell you everything, I swear, just please, please… believe me, the last time I sent anything to Hydra was after we fought in the shipyard. Never again after that, and it was never ever a factor in my wanting to be with you.” His hand smoothed over the flesh of my check.

When I looked into his eyes, letting my head rest against the warmth of his palm I could almost convince myself that nothing had changed. It was still him, still Pietro, my Pietro. It was still him and this didn’t change the way I felt, it didn’t negate every moment we’d shared since he’d come to the compound. Everything was not lost just because of this one treacherous secret. I clung to every memory that popped into my mind, every smile he’d caused, every flush, all the laughter and banter, the arguments and that white-hot ache I’d felt when I thought I might have ruined everything between us in Amsterdam.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed into the room, saving me from having to force a response over the lump in my throat. “Mr. Stark has arrived accompanied by Secretary Ross; Captain Rogers has asked that everyone convene in the conference room.”

I stood then, clearing my throat and quickly wiping my eyes. Pietro watched me carefully, but I just stepped past him, making my way towards the door. I paused, however, hand hovering over the handle. “Let’s just get through this, then we will talk.” With that I left the room.

I sat between Natasha and Steve at the table, listening to Secretary Ross speak about his heart attack and how it allowed him to gain perspective. The nature of this meeting was not lost on me, nor any of the others, though, the specific consequences for what had occurred loomed over us all like an impending storm. I glanced at Pietro across the table, he sat beside Wanda, hands in his lap, studying the tiniest imperfection in the glossy wooden table. The words spoken by the secretary became a low hum of white noise as I gathered my thoughts about everything that had come to light. Where to go from here, how to proceed.

The word dangerous brought my attention back to the conversation at hand. Ross moved back toward the screen as the pixels joined to show a video.

“New York.” He said as the footage revealed Hulk smashing through building after building. “Washington, D.C.” The S.H.I.E.L.D. mother ship was smashed into smithereens, screams ringing through the screen. “Sokovia.” As soon as that word left his mouth my eyes were on Pietro and Wanda. The sound of screaming filled my ears yet again, the footage showing the crumbling island being lifted upward, buildings falling and people attempting to flee. “Lagos.” The footage I’d seen on the news played out, smoke and stretchers, civilians crying and more screaming alongside the sound of sirens. Pietro’s jaw tightened and his shoulders sagged further, he could not even look at Wanda who’d finally torn her eyes away from the screen. I glanced toward Steve, furrowing my eyebrows momentarily as a silent plea for him to put a stop to this.

“Okay that’s enough.”

Secretary Ross turned off the video, bracing his hands behind his back as he turned toward us once more. “For the past four years you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate, but I think we have a solution.” He slid a hefty-looking, bound booklet onto the table toward Wanda. She pushed them toward Rhoadey as Ross circled the table, discussing the end to our privatization. When the booklet moved to Natasha I placed a hand over it, pulling it a little closer for inspection.

The Sokovia Accords.

I skimmed through the pages as he continued, Rhoadey speaking up as well. It all blurred together as I read about the plans for ‘supervision’ of the Avengers. If this was agreed on it would mean we were only able to intervene in conflict if it was deemed necessary by the United Nations. I closed the book, pushing it down toward Steve as I mulled over the words I’d read.

“Talk it over.” He spoke with finality, beginning toward the door of the conference room.

I swallowed heavily.

“And if the decision we come to isn’t the one you want?” I asked, glancing up at Ross.

He lingered for a moment, turning back slightly to address me. “Then you retire.”

I nodded, utterly unsurprised by this.

When Ross left we all moved to one of the compound’s sitting rooms to discuss our respective feelings on how to proceed. It took no time at all for Sam and Rhoadey to begin arguing about the matter, Sam disagreeing with the accords while Rhoadey vehemently defended Ross. I glanced at Tony who lounged back in an armchair, hand covering his eyes.

Pietro had been completely silent since the meeting with Ross, not so much as uttering a word to any of us. He stood behind the couch where Natasha and I were seated, pacing the floor, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“I have an equation.” Vision spoke up from his spot beside Wanda, all eyes turning to him and finally Pietro’s pacing stopped, instead he moved to hold onto the back of the couch, looming over it. Sam muttered some sarcastic remark, but I kept my eyes on the red man. “In the 8 years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. During the same period the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”

Steve looked up at vision over the edge of the accords he held in his hands. “Are you saying it’s our fault?”

“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge, challenge incites conflict and conflict breeds catastrophe. Oversight… oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom.” Rhoadey added, looking toward Sam.

Tony sighed heavily causing my eyes to shift back to him. “You’re uncharacteristically tolerable today.”

“It’s because he’s already made up his mind.” Steve retorted.

“Boy, you know me so well.” Tony pushed himself up from the couch. Walking toward the kitchen. “Actually, I’m nursing an electro-magnetic headache. That’s what’s going on, Cap, it’s just pain. It’s discomfort.” The tone he took had me wondering if maybe Steve was right, but something significant must have happened to have Tony agreeing with Secretary Ross. “Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal?” He asked, looking back at us accusingly. “Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?” His deflections didn’t fool me. It was evident something was eating him. He pulled out his phone, projecting the image of a boy who looked to be in his late teens or perhaps early twenties. “Oh, that’s Charles Spencer by the way, he’s a great kid, computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA… had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where? Sokovia.” I looked to Pietro then, his knuckled had turned white from his grip on the seat. I didn’t think about the movement of my hand, or the implication of it, I just reached out for him, hand falling over his and squeezing. “He wanted to make a difference; I suppose. We won’t know because we dropped a building on his while we were kicking ass.” Pietro moved to drop down into the seat beside me. “There is no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check and whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, we’re boundary-less, we are no better than the bad guys.”

“Tony, someone dies on your watch. You don’t give up.” Steve intervened.

Tony took a step forward. “Who said we’re giving up?”

“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

I saw his point; the trouble was I also agreed with Tony. The room quickly opened back up to a heated discussion, with Rhoadey and Tony on the same side while Steve adamantly disagreed. I met Natasha’s eyes, a silent sentiment shared between us then, this was really bad.

“Maybe Tony’s right.” Nat spoke up, Sam and Steve’s heads whipped toward her. “If we have one hand on the wheel we cant still steer, if we take it off.”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam questioned.

I snickered quietly but was quick to defend her. “She’s just reading the terrain. We had all made some very public mistakes, we need to win their trust back.”

Natasha smiled at me but the look on Pietro’s face read surprise.

It was Tony who spoke next. “Focus up. I’m sorry, did I just mishear you both or did you agree with me?”

 I rolled my eyes heavily, Natasha and I both muttering our regrets at giving him satisfaction.

“You can’t retract it now! Thank you both. Okay, case closed; I win.” Tony gloated.

The Accords booklet slapped against the glass table as Steve stood, tossing it down. “I have to go.” His voice was low, betraying something private that was causing him pain.

While the others returned to their discussions, I caught Pietro’s eye, nodding toward the door before standing from the couch. When we had both exited the sitting room I turned back to him, my mind brimming with a million different thoughts. “It is going to be okay.” I assured him, recognizing the expression on his face. However, my words had his look changing slightly.

He watched me intently for a moment, gesturing between us with one hand. “What about us? Is this going to be okay?”

I wrung my fingers together, dropping my eyes down to look at the floor. The look on his face has an array of different emotions bathing me. I knew that we would only ever be okay if I could move past what he had done, if I could let go of the shades of distrust that had begun to darken the moments we shared. This was the only path forward, what we had could never survive if I let this fester. I also knew there was only one way for me to even begin to let it go.

“You need to tell me everything.”

Chapter Text

“I think perhaps it’s time we address what you remember about your time with Hydra.” Dr. Norris said.

“Haven’t we already done that?”

He flicked through his notebook until he found the page he was looking for, scanning his notes before glancing back at me. “We’ve been over it, but we never appropriately addressed one of the main breakthroughs we made… you said you remember the man in the lab coat telling you where you were born, the date, and your name. That suggests perhaps this was sort of the conditioning; sort of them removing who you were.”

I opened my mouth but closed it again soon after, unsure how to respond. Of course it had crossed my mind, but I’d never really allowed the thought to linger for long. His words sent me reeling, lost in my own thoughts. They threatened to overcome me, it felt like sitting in a vat of honey or molasses, swimming through it was fruitless but the more I wadded the more my limbs grew weary but the sticky, unyielding insanity promised to suffocate me if I sat in it too long. It was only a matter of time before I had to address the elephant in the room, the niggling thought that had lived at the back of my mind for months.

I didn’t know what it was that made this small piece of the puzzle feel especially daunting. Perhaps it was that this was the one thing left of me that hadn’t been up for debate. The one constant even when my mind was muddled and tampered with my name was still mine, even when everything else was stripped from me. “Okay,” I murmured, leaning back in my chair.

“Great. Let’s begin by going back to the room where you were kept for conditioning, then throughout our next sessions we’ll try to dig deeper into your memories from before.”

When I stepped out of the room it felt like my head was underwater, everything was a little distant and muffled. I felt the sun on my flesh as I passed the large floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the corridor, it kept me

“Nads, there you are!” Natasha’s voice pulled me from my reverie.

“Here I am.” I murmured in response. The moment she asked me what I had planned for tomorrow I realized why she was looking for me. “I am not going to Vienna for the United Nations meeting.” I crossed my arms over my chest, resolve evident across my features.

She sighed exasperatedly. “Come on, please!” I turned and began to walk away. “Why so stubborn? You always used to love playing diplomat with me.” She spoke, falling into step beside me.

I shot her an icy glance. “That was a long time ago. Plus, neither of us had a say in it back then, it was all just an assignment.”

Natasha moved to step in front of me, cutting off my path forward. The expression on my face did nothing to deter her. “I know you’d rather be literally anywhere else than in a room with a bunch of world leaders and politician-types, especially given how close to home this all is. Trust me, I understand that completely, but Steve is otherwise indisposed, and I don’t want to do this alone.” The softness in her gaze and the furrow of her brow dripped sincerity and she obviously knew exactly how to wear down my resistance. “Nadia, please. I need you to have my back in Vienna.”

I sighed heavily, giving her an unimpressed look. “You are very annoying, you know that.” A smile spread over her lips at my evident defeat in this matter. I rolled my eyes at the glee she did not even attempt to hide.

“So?”

Another sigh. “I’ve got your back.”

…

I could not believe I’d let her talk me into this. The reality dawned on me as I leaned back into the seat of the plane, watching out the window as the blueness of the sky, dappled by powdery white clouds surrounded us. I attempted to think of something other than the deliberations that awaited us in Vienna. Though, when my mind managed to stray from that, the thoughts were not preferable. Recollections of the white walls, the man telling me all the details of my life, Norris suggesting that everything I’ve known to be true about myself may actually just be a character that was created for me. So, I decided not to think about that either. That left only one other pressing thought.

Pietro had done as I’d asked, taking me to his room and unloading every moment of his communications with Hydra. I had anticipated that he’d be willing to unburden himself about everything he’d shared with them. What I hadn’t been expecting was for him to go into the back of his closet and dig through a torn leather satchel that was hidden at the back, procuring a thick manilla folder.

He placed it into my hands and dropped down beside me in the bed. I stared at it for a long moment, sick to death of seeing these damn folders, it seemed nothing good ever came out of them. Finally, I flipped it open to read through its contents.

“Most of it is just the stuff you already saw. There’s only one other.” I flipped through the pages until I reached the final one. He had taken notes about me after the shipyard it seemed, he’d just never sent them. At first, it was just a continuation of what I’d said and done in the shipyard, he wrote about overhearing me talking about the Graduation Ceremony after Wanda had manipulated my mind. Then it went into a few basic bites about the fight with Ultron on the train. ‘Nadia is persistent, and unyielding, even when fighting something physically enhanced, she keeps fighting. After every hit, she would stand back up and keep fighting’ It stopped there, halfway through a line as if he’d paused mid-thought. That was the last thing he’d written. I closed the folder, leaning forward on my knees slightly as I thought about everything I’d read. There was a part of me that felt freed by seeing it all firsthand, reading everything he’d written, airing the entirety of the secret. The other part of me was still held back by one small factor; he’d kept his notes. I knew it was likely not premeditated and it should really be meaningless, but for some reason, there was this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that wouldn’t let it go.

“In the Red Room they… sterilized us, removing our uterus was the final step to eliminating weakness and distraction. A reminder of what they had molded us for, the singular path we were given.” Pietro was completely silent as I spoke, barely even breathing. I turned my head to meet his eyes. “They called it the Graduation Ceremony.” He swallowed heavily as those two words passed my lips, eyes shutting tightly, and his head fell into his hands. I wasn’t sure why I’d told him that, why I needed him to know that. I threw the folder down onto the bed, moving to my feet. “That is what I saw when Wanda was in my head.”

“Nadia, I-”

“Do not apologize again, Pietro.” I took a deep breath, angered by how shaky my exhale felt. “Why did you stop there? Why not you send this too?”

His beautiful blue eyes were filled with tears when he lifted his head. Exhaustion was evident in the dark circles that surrounded them. He looked utterly defeated as he gazed at me. He shrugged weakly. “I guess things felt different then. When I agreed to send Hydra intel, I was filled with so much rage I didn’t know what to do with it. It nearly consumed me, the anger and hatred. I just wanted to hold someone accountable for all of our suffering. Back then, all I really knew about you was that you were an Avenger, it was easy to lump you into the blame I had for them. At first, anyway, but then I actually talked to you.” He swallowed heavily, looking down again. “In the shipyard, you said that you didn’t look at me because you did not want to hurt me, even after all the trouble Wanda and I had already caused. You kept your eyes closed when I could have hurt you, you made yourself vulnerable in front of me rather than risk harming me. That is who you are, Nadia, and I saw it in that moment. I tried to hold onto my resentment by writing another letter, but I couldn’t send it because I knew who you really were.” I thought of the day on the train, the feeling of the window cracking beneath my flesh as Ultron pinned me to the wall.  The pain of my head being jammed between his metal hand and the cool glass. I recalled the relief that rushed through my body when Pietro pulled him away. “You said you don’t hate me, but I would understand if you did.”

“That’s really pathetic.” It was mean and I only said it because I wanted him to stop looking so completely shattered because it was killing me. We had made a deal that I would stop lashing out to push him away but, in that moment, it was all I could do to hold onto my resolve. The worst part is the way my voice turned breathy and weak along the word pathetic, I couldn’t even stand by my own words; not when my eyes were stinging again and all I wanted was for things to go back to the way they were.

“I know.” He murmured, tears streaming down his cheeks. “And I don’t care. I don’t care how pathetic I sound when I’m begging you not to walk away over this stupid fucking mistake I made. I have never felt this way about any other person in my entire life, the thought of you leaving destroys me so no I don’t care if it’s pathetic I’ll do whatever you want me to. Just tell me what to do to make this better.”

I watched him cry before me, seemingly stuck to this spot on the floor. I racked my brain for the answer that felt right. What could he do to make this better? How could this be fixed. I thought just knowing everything would suddenly absolve it all but now I wasn’t sure it had. It was hard to know what would fix it or even if it could be fixed but then I considered the rest of what he’d said, and I couldn’t deny that the thought of walking away was the most excruciating of all. I didn’t know what the solution was, but I knew that I was incapable of leaving him like this, so I closed the distance between us and wiped his tears away with the back of my hand. My forehead fell to lean against his.

“You can’t ever lie to me like that again.”

I rubbed at my temples, urging the ache that had sat beneath my eye sockets for days to give me a moment's peace. At some point, I managed to fall asleep and after a fitful sleep filled with memories of Hydra and the pages of information Pietro had written about me, I awoke to the feeling of our plane touching down on the tarmac.

The air that tousled my hair was chilly but the warmth of the sun softened its icy caress. Water dripped leisurely from tree branches as the ice faded and made way for new growth. That night I lay atop one of the plush beds, watching Natasha as she dipped the tip of her index finger into a little round jar of face cream before smoothing it over her skin. “I can practically hear the gears turning in your head from how hard you’re thinking over there.” She met my eyes in the vanity mirror, prompting a sigh from me.

My eyes trailed upward to the ceiling as I attempted to gather my thoughts. “What do you really think about all of this? The Sokovia Accords.”

There was a long moment of silence before Natasha filled it. “Honestly, I’m not really sure.”

“Neither am I.” I looked back at her when I heard her turn around in the chair. “What you said back at the compound about keeping one hand on the wheel, I agree.”

“But?”

“But… Cap had a point too. Governments always have an agenda and if we sign the accords, we become subject to that. More than subject, we become an extension of it.” Her eyes fell shut for a moment before she reopened them and nodded. “What if they really do stop us from intervening somewhere we should? This doesn’t feel like unifying with the government, it feels like completely relinquishing control.”

She nodded again. “Or the opposite, we’re forced to intervene where we shouldn’t.”

“And then there’s that,” I muttered, looking down at my hands. “All of it just feels…”

“Familiar?” When our eyes met, I knew that we were having the same thought. “But maybe our history is where most of the trepidation is coming from. Maybe things will be different. I mean you and I both agree that things have been a little out of control lately.”

Her words did little to soothe me, though I nodded, nonetheless. “Maybe.”

“Let’s just get through the signing tomorrow and get a little outside perspective, then go from there. Staying together is more important than how we stay together, right.”

I hummed, leaning back against the plush pillows lining the head of the bed. The sound of my nails tapping against the wooden side table was the only sound now. My head was beginning to ache with the incessant thoughts rattling around. Natasha’s eyes still lingered on me, evidently sensing that the accords were not the only thing on my mind. “Do you remember the day we met? We were locked in a shipping container, and you asked me where I was from, what did I say?”

“Yeah, of course, you told me you were from St. Petersburg.”

“How do you remember it easily?”

She shrugged. “Well, not many of us knew where we’d come from so it's not like I had a lot of birthplaces to keep track of.”

“Right, but I knew where I’d come from.” I continued to drum my fingers across the side table. “You asked me again in Portugal, you were just trying to keep me from passing out so you could finish removing the bullet from my leg, but you asked me where I was from again and I couldn’t remember.” One final click of my nail against the wood sounded through the room before I stopped, sitting up again to face Nat. “Why would I have remembered the first time but not the second?”

“Portugal was years later, maybe you’d just forgotten as you got older?”

I shook my head. “But I remembered again after that. I believed that I was from St. Petersburg every day up until now.”

“You don’t believe that anymore?”

“I don’t know what I believe.”

The sky was completely grey overhead the next day, almost forebodingly ominous as Natasha and I entered the conference center for the UN meeting. I fiddled with the sleeve of my blazer; palms sweating profusely. This was certainly not the first time we’d played this role, Natasha was right when she said I’d once found moonlighting as a foreign diplomat enticing but this felt completely different because the outcome of today would shape the future of the Avengers. Even with so much on the line, it still felt like yet another role I had to play.

“It’s going to be fine; you’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours, we’re just here to listen and sign some papers.”

I nodded at her, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear to busy my hands. When a blonde woman approached asking for some signatures prior to the commencement of the conference I shared a brief look with Natasha, offering to take care of it. Really, I just wanted something to busy my mind with, fearing that idle hands would only worsen my twitching.

After I’d signed what seemed liked a hundred different documents all just regarding legitimacy and confidentiality a voice sounded over the P.A. system announcing the beginning of the meeting. I found Natasha speaking to King T’Chaka and Prince T’Challa of Wakanda when I returned. Both men offered me a kind smile and respectful greeting as I approached. I returned the favor, mustering a few gentle words of introduction before following Natasha to our seats.

It was King T’Chaka who spoke first at the conference. “When stolen Wakandan vibranium was used to make a terrible weapon, we in Wakanda were forced to question our legacy. Those men and women killed in Nigeria were part of a good-willed mission from a country too long in the shadows. We will not, however, let misfortune drive us back. We will fight to improve the world we wish to join. I am grateful to the Avengers for supporting this initiative.” I swallowed heavily, looking down at the table before me, this was the right thing to do, I reminded myself of it over and over. My nails dug into the skin of my palm as he continued, his points sounding genuine, infallible. My eyes trailed over to his son who glanced over his shoulder out the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the wall behind him. I narrowed my eyes at him as I saw his own twitch slightly, something outside had clearly drawn his attention. “Wakanda is proud to extend its hand in peace-”

The king had barely gotten the words out before his son came running toward him, shouting for everyone to get down. I grabbed the woman beside me, pulling her under the table with me as Natasha did the same. The crack of the explosion was rivaled only by the sound of glass shattering and smoke billowing. Where there had been the detonation of sound and light there was now nothing at all as unconsciousness lured me into its embrace.

When my eyes opened once more it was with a gasp followed by an abrupt cough as smoke filled my lungs. Flames licked at every surface they could reach, and ashen debris fell all around. My eyes were blurry, my ears ringing as I surveyed the room. Natasha grabbed a hold of my hand; I could see her mouth moving but it was all muffled. The area was surrounded by police and reporters by the time we stumbled out toward a bench, gasping into the fresh air. King T’Chaka was dead and so were 12 other people. Sirens filled the air as the range of different authorities cordoned off the area.

“Can you hear me now?” Natasha asked. The ringing was still there but much less prevalent now as I swiveled to face her on the bench.

I nodded. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better.” She murmured, to which I quickly agreed.

“What the fuck just happened?”

She rubbed at the soot smeared across her cheek. “They think it was the Winter Soldier, say he planted a bomb.”

I closed my eyes tightly, scrubbing a hand over my face.

It wasn’t long before T’Challa collapsed onto the bench beside ours. He faced forward, shoulders drooping, eyes haunted. I sat a little more upright, fighting the dizziness making my head spin. “I’m very sorry for your loss,” I spoke to him, watching as he fiddled with a silver ring with intricate carvings. He looked at me for only a split second before looking forward again.

“In my culture, death is not the end. It’s more of a stepping-off point. You reach out with both hands and Bast and Sekhmet, they lead you into the green veldt where you can run forever.”

I nodded, taking a moment to process his words. “That sounds very peaceful.”

“My father thought so.” He slipped the ring onto his own finger as he spoke and I could see the shift in his eyes, the pure agony thinly veiled by rage. “I am not my father.”

“T’Challa, the task force will decide who brings in Barnes.”

He stood abruptly. “Don’t bother, Ms Pimenova, I’ll kill him myself.” He was walking away before I could dissuade him further and the lingering headache was rearing its head in an especially painful way now. I rubbed at my temples, attempting to soothe the pain. Natasha calling my name brought my attention back. She held her phone between us, answering and putting it on speaker.

“Are you both alright?” Cap asked.

“Yeah, thanks, we were lucky,” Nat responded, the sound of an ambulance echoing over the speaker just as one raced by had us sharing a conspiratorial look.

I shook my head, returning to massaging my temples. “We know how much Barnes means to you, Steve. We do, but you’re only going to make this worse for all of us.”

“Are you saying you’ll arrest me?”

Natasha spoke up then. “No… but someone will. If you interfere, that’s how it works now.

“If he’s this far gone then I should be the one to bring him in.”

There was no persuading him, that much was obvious from the tone of his voice. I rolled my neck, bones clicking with each movement. The buzzing of my phone distracted me from Natasha reasoning attempts at reasoning with Steve. When I managed to slide it from my pocket, I was surprised to see only one small crack across the corner of the glass rather than an array across the screen. The phone lit up to reveal a full voicemail and dozens of missed calls, Pietro claiming the majority of it. I tilted it toward Nat so she could see what I was doing before I clicked the familiar contact ID, standing from the bench to wander out of earshot.

“I’m okay,” I said the moment the line connected.

Pietro’s exhale was so heavy through the phone I could almost feel the whisper of his breath over my skin. “Jesus, Nadia, is it too much to ask that you go a few months without almost getting killed?”

“Well, now that sounds an awful lot like victim blaming.”

“You’re not funny.”

I ran a hand through my hair, shaking loose a few pieces of debris. “Not even a little?”

There was a beat of silence between us. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m really alright, I promise, a little sore but nothing to worry about.”

He said okay. “Just… call me later, please, just to keep me in the loop.”

I couldn’t fight the way my lips tugged upwards at his words. Even from thousands of miles away, the sincerity of his voice felt like a warm embrace. He took a deep breath, signaling that he was preparing to hang up. “Pietro,” I spoke suddenly, my mouth moving almost before my mind had time to catch up.

“Nadia.” He murmured.

“I miss you. Thank you for calling.” There was a moment of silence before he echoed my sentiment. “I’ll talk to you later.”

The moment of basking was short-lived as Natasha appeared before me, a grave expression across her features. I made a sound of frustration. “You take T’Challa, I’ll handle Cap?” She nodded at me.

“Let’s see if we can’t clean up this mess.”

…

Steve Rogers was not nearly as stealthy as he thought he was, though perhaps that was an unfair critique given that this type of work was my forte. I tracked him to the café with little trouble, watching as Sharon slid a file across the bench in an act of defiance that could most definitely get her fired. The moment she’d departed I slipped through the small crowd and sidled up beside Sam.

“You know for someone whose whole brand is basically being a stickler for the rules, you sure seem comfortable bending them,” I spoke, propping my chin up on my fist atop the counter. Sam flinched hard, whipping around to face me.

“Where the hell did you come from?”

I merely rose an eyebrow at him, as if to say ‘really?’ before turning my gaze to Steve who adjusted the cap on his head with a sigh that was brimming with exasperation. “Don’t try to talk me out of it, Nadia.”

“What exactly is the plan here? Walk in and ask politely for Barnes to surrender. Because, no offense, Cap, but that is a really stupid idea. Almost as stupid as this disguise. Seriously, baseball cap and sunglasses? You look suspicious as shit; you’d be more under the radar in that ridiculous blue super suit of yours.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, setting his jaw as he listened, Sam choosing not to engage, though I saw the upward twitch of his lips. “Are you done?” I shrugged, choosing to swallow the last few taunts about his disguise, not the time. “I know you don’t trust him. You have every right to feel that way, but you said that you understand what he means to me. So don’t try to stand in my way, because it isn’t going to work.”

“I know.” My words gave him pause, mouth slightly open still, as if on the brink of repeating himself. “At no point on the way over here was I expecting to change your mind on this. Your plan of action here is undoubtedly flawed and I seriously think you should rethink your disguises in the future but that doesn’t mean I’m letting you walk into Barnes’ den alone.”

Sam scoffed. “What am I? Chopped liver?”

I tsked. “You’ll be busy keeping an eye out from above little birdy.” I taunted before looking back at Cap. “I know I can’t talk you out of going, just like you can’t talk me out of having your back.”

He still tried, though his attempts were half-hearted, resigned to my determination. Or perhaps he really believed that Barnes had changed, I knew that was a large part of why he was so committed to this, he couldn’t let go of the man he knew, he needed to see it for himself once and for all. That wouldn’t be an easy pill to swallow, this was part of why I was so set on accompanying him. If things went south or he found himself unable to let go, I’d have no qualms intervening.

As I’d suspected, his plan was incredibly underdeveloped, relying mostly on the goodness of Barnes’ heart. Yet, I followed Steve into the decrepit apartment, nonetheless. The wallpaper was stained and peeling at the corners, and the windows were mostly boarded up or covered by cardboard and newspaper. It was a mess, with various empty food containers and newspapers strewn about. I pushed a pile of paper aside with my foot before glancing up at Steve. “Nice digs,” I muttered. The creak of the floorboards signaling a new presence had me whipping around, spine straightening immediately. He was unkempt, his hair grown out and stubble covering his jaw, but I knew him the moment I saw him. I leaned onto my back foot, taking half a step back.

He seemed different, less icy super soldier, more twitchy; uneasy. As small and troubled as he appeared, I still felt the hair on my arms stand. His blue-gray eyes had been set on me from the moment he entered. “Do you know me?” Steve asked.

Barnes nodded, eyes momentarily shifting to the blond man in his blue, red, and white armor. The freedom from his gaze was short-lived as he looked at me again.

He swallowed heavily, he was like a cornered animal, waiting for attack. I wondered if it was Steve he was afraid of. Or perhaps his impending arrest. Maybe it was me. I was certainly frightened of him. I stood tall, nerves strung tightly but my heart was thumping quickly in my chest and my palms were sweating. “Do you remember me?” He nodded again, eyes casting downward now. “What, don’t you speak anymore?” I managed.

“I know both of you.” He even sounded different. Less gruff, no harsh words spat in Russian. “I read about you at the museum.” He gestured toward Steve then. I knew that must have stung, they’d been friends, it couldn’t have been easy to not be remembered by someone he cared so dearly for; someone he’d risk his reputation and life for. “And we were in the Red Room together.” He nodded toward me.

“Oh, we were in the Red Room, were we?” I raised an eyebrow at him, fear being momentarily side-stepped by rage.

He looked down at his feet, Adams apple bobbing heavily and when he looked back up, he only met my gaze for a split second before looking away. His expression was difficult to read. I thought maybe it was remorse, but that seemed bizarre to me. “I trained you… in the Red Room.” He forced out. I was taken aback by the strain in his voice, I’d never heard him sound so weak. With narrowed eyes, I surveyed him, unconvinced by this shift. My mind urged me to pay attention, wait for a crack in his façade, he could not maintain this cover forever, I’d see through it. Yet, another part of me wondered if this wounded, fearful air was not some kind of ruse. It was not just remorse that I’d heard in his voice but disdain. I’d heard this tone from him before, the discontent, but back then it had been directed at me.

I ducked under the metal arm that struck out in my direction, knee scuffing over the mat as I swerved around his body, grabbing ahold of his upper arm and using it as leverage to swing my legs up and lock them around his upper torso, arms swiftly encircling his neck to put him into a chokehold. I held tight even when he threw himself backward, slamming me into the wall, I gritted my teeth and tightened my grip, body bruised and aching from the exhaustion of attempting to hold my own against someone so much larger than me. He brought his metal elbow back, whirring ringing through the room as he jammed it into my ribs so hard I cried out, losing my grip from the sudden rush of pain combined with my back colliding against the wall yet again. I fell to the mat, gripping my side but forcing myself back to my feet before he won. I kicked him in the back of the knee, but it was fruitless. He swiveled around to grab me once again, cool metal over my forehead as he yanked my head back so his free arm could wrap around my throat. The lack of air had me light-headed, tears were streaming down my cheeks, and I thrashed in his hold but at 12 years old I was no match for a military-trained super soldier. I tapped when my vision started to become spattered with black spots, the air that shot into my lungs when he freed me had me coughing uncontrollably. I rolled over on the ground to hide my tear-stained face against the mat and attempt to settle my gasping.

“Ты слаб. Такое разочарование.”

You are weak. Such a disappointment.

I walked toward one of the covered windows, peering through the crevice between the newspaper where light managed to peek through. The task force was closing in around the building, and I suspected there were people making their way to the roof as well. I could vaguely hear Steve speaking about the river and their shared past, imploring the man before him to remember, or at least to believe him. I knew Sam was in his ear, keeping him updated on the movements of the police force around us. When his eyes met mine, I knew our time was up.

“Sam’s compromised, go now.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What the hell are you two going to do?”

Steve looked towards Barnes who seemed resigned to punching his way out. “This doesn’t have to be a fight.”

Barnes sighed, pulling the black glove from his metal hand. “It always ends in a fight.”

“Steve, this is unbelievably stupid!”

“I know, that’s why I’m not going to drag you any further into this. Go, Nadia!” He shoved me toward the door but before I could even reach for the handle glass shattered all around as the windows were breached. The door burst open at the same moment seeing several armed agents enter, I wasn’t really certain what the correct course of action was here, I had been prepared for a potential fight with the Winter Soldier, but fighting to avoid arrest for harboring a fugitive wasn’t exactly on my bingo card. As it turned out, I didn’t need to decide right now because the refrigerator was sent pummeling through the doorway, knocking down or blocking the entrance of the line of agents beelining for me. I glanced back to see Barnes already looking at me, his expression unreadable and momentary as he turned to grab his go bag from the floor. Him ever intentionally helping me was a baffling notion but right now I wasn’t in the position to dwell, instead I slipped by the fridge, moving quickly toward down the hall that led away from the stairs. When I reached the end of the hallway I slipped around the corner, pressing myself to the wall to watch as more agents ran by, heading for the destroyed apartment.

It was mildly difficult and exceptionally tedious to get out of the apartment building unscathed. But it was made much easier by the tunnel-vision officers, hunting Barnes. It wasn’t until I was halfway down the street that I realized they would now be hunting Steve as well.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The wind tousled my hair, sun brushing over my cheeks as I watched the trees dancing in the breeze. I sat atop a cement ledge in a multi-level parking lot, feet dangling over the edge, hands braced on either side of me. My shoulders were aching from the tension that had lived there for days now.

It had been around 20 hours since Ross told us we had 36 to patch this up. Tony had arrived back in New York to follow up on whatever the hell he had planned, he also informed me that Wanda had left the compound with Clint. I was at somewhat of an impasse. It was now an immovable fact that Steve wouldn’t back down and even if it was in Tony’s character to concede, he had Ross and the guilt of Charles Spencer’s death looming over him. I’d signed the accords… because it was the right thing to do, it was the path forward. Unfortunately, no matter how many times I repeated that to myself it still failed to ease my warring mind. That inner conflict was no doubt what had led me here.

“Something on your mind?” The familiar voice asked.

I sent the tall blond man an unamused look over my shoulder, but the corners of my lips quirked ever so slightly. “Not really no.” I joked, swinging one leg back over the wall so I was facing Steve. “What’s that thing people say about the shit hitting the fan? I don’t know if we’ve reached that point yet or if it’s still coming but either way things have gotten a little chaotic for my taste.”

He breathed a short laugh, nodding in agreement. “How are you feeling? You took a lot of damage back at the headquarters.”

“I’ve had better days.”

A flash of dark hair over Steve’s shoulder caught my attention, Barnes leaned against the passenger side door of a small hatchback, looking down at his crossed arms. “I know you don’t trust him, and I understand why, but you saw what happened back there, it isn’t just me caring about an old buddy. That doctor activated him on purpose, and my guess is that he’s manufactured this whole thing. Bucky didn’t kill King T’Chaka… but I think you’ve already figured that out or you wouldn’t be here.”

I didn’t respond right away, thinking over his words. “I need clarity. Only he can give it to me.” Steve and I both glanced toward Barnes then. “That is why I’m here.”

“Where’s Pietro? I would’ve thought he’d be less than happy for you to be here after everything.”

“He thinks I’m taking a walk to clear my head.” Was all I supplied in response, still watching Barnes carefully. It felt utterly bizarre, to be approaching the Winter Solider in this environment; to be seeking him out at all. Although, he did not look like the Winter Soldier right now. “Are you going to try to kill me again?” I asked when I stood before him. He shook his head, glancing up at me for only a moment before looking back down.

He mumbled something then; it sounded like sorry but that seemed unfathomable to me, so I chose to move on swiftly.

“I don’t have a lot of time, so I won’t waste it asking stupid questions. They never called me ‘114’ in the Red Room so I’m gathering we met before.” He nodded; eyes still downcast. “Where did we meet then?”

It came as a surprise to me when he actually responded. “There used to be a hydra facility in Serbia, it was off-the-grid, confidential, every operation based there was strictly need-to-know. It’s where you were kept before you were given to Dreykov. I was assigned to you, the mission was to oversee you progress and keep you confined, make sure you didn’t interact with other subjects.”

“I don’t understand, if there were other…” I swallowed heavily, “subjects, why were you only assigned to me, aren’t you a little overqualified?”

The lack of eye-contact was beginning to bother me, particularly as it became evident that he was quickly reverting back into silence. “That is how we met, what else do you want from me?”

His response, or lack thereof, incensed me. I was exhausted and my body ached from the lack of sleep and him throwing me through a glass wall. “Just answer the goddamn question, you owe me that at the very least.”

There was silence between us for a long moment and then he finally met my eyes. “Because you were a high-profile experiment.”

The words turned my stomach. A high-profile experiment, how flattering. “You know where I came from?”

“No.” He shook his head firmly. “I didn’t have the clearance to know anything like that about you, that’s partially why I knew you were so important. They weren’t exactly forthcoming about any of their plans, but that level of secrecy… the clearances, the constant conditioning, it was different from any of the other subjects.”

“Hydra tested me for genetic potential… they probably just thought they could get a good price from Dreykov, that doesn’t mean I was significant to them.”

There was silence again then, the air was thick with uncomfortable tension, anticipation for what was to come. “It wasn’t about the money. You had genetic potential of course, but that wasn’t enough on its own to make you worth it to them.” He met my eyes then, gaze encased by shadows and maybe even a little mercy. “Their conditioning didn’t work on you, Nadia. Not at first anyway. They didn’t just want you to forget yourself when it was beneficial for them, they wanted to leave no trace of who you were, but even when their tactics started to affect you, you would remember. Every single time. The conditioning never stuck.” His words only confused me more, none of this explained why he suspected I was important to Hydra. However, his words did move me, if he knew all of this that meant he knew me before, before I lost every part of myself that was real, everything that was not manufactured. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted him to continue. I’d once said I did not want to know about all the things that were taken from me, but now I didn’t know what I wanted. Before I could figure it out, he was speaking again. “If it had taken even half that amount of work to manipulate the minds of any other subject, they wouldn’t have seen it through, Hydra were dedicated but they didn’t see the subjects as humans. If one became too troublesome, they would have just disposed of them. They weren’t known for being merciful, and yet, with you they were steadfast, no effort spared. That isn’t business as usual… it’s personal.”

“I was a child; how could it have been personal?”

Nick Fury’s words echoed through my head.

You were too young to have made yourself a target.

I knew what it meant. I wasn’t the target, just a pawn in a much bigger plan. I didn’t wait for him to answer. “You saw them experimenting on my mind, so you know how they made me forget, can you tell me how to undo it?”

He shook his head. “I only saw parts; I wouldn’t even know where to begin in undoing it.” I remained silent at his response, taking in everything he’d told me. “I take it the mind-manipulations wearing a little thin these days. What do you remember?”

“I remember the ballet, Giselle and Swan Lake, it took me a while, but I remember it now. I remember being told my name was Nadia and that I was an orphan born in St. Petersburg, and I remember the Red Room. You trained me… I remember that, but I also remember that you weren’t always there. You left.”

“I didn’t leave, I was sent away. You don’t remember?”

That seemed to be a common problem for me lately. “Remember what?”

“It took hydra all that time to figure out the right method to break your mind, but even when they finally found it, the conditioning didn’t stick. It lasted a while, years even, but when you were a teenager, it started to wane… you started to remember.”

His words had my stomach churning, how could I not know that? I was a teenager, this was happening to me in the Red Room; how did I not remember now. “What does that have to do with you?”

“Dreykov thought my presence was encouraging you to remember, because we’d known each other before. So, they put you back through conditioning and I was reassigned.”

This was a hell of a lot to take in but there was still something else on my mind, a lingering question that I couldn’t seem to move past. “Before, you said you were sorry that I’d trusted you, what did you mean.”

He didn’t respond right away, directing his eyes downward once again. The internal torment he was going through was evident. “When you were first taken by Hydra, I was assigned to watch over you, like I said before. You were just a little kid, but every day you would try to talk to me. You’d ask me questions about myself, where I was from, my family, you were very… insistent. When I would ignore you, you’d start telling me about yourself.”

That sentiment brought me to a standstill. “What did I tell you?”

He shook his head, expression more somber than ever. “I don’t know. That wasn’t something Hydra were too willing to let me remember. But, for whatever reason you seemed to want to tell me all these things and wanted to know them in return. It didn’t really matter, not at first. It became a problem when somehow you triggered my own mind to start fighting back against the conditioning. Hydra knew your own conditioning wasn’t working because I reported everything back to them and when they realized you were making me remember they had me punish you.”

I wasn’t so surprised by that part. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Don’t thank me.”

I nodded, swallowing heavily. “It isn’t your fault… I don’t blame you.” He finally met my eyes again then. “I’m not exactly the president of your fan club, but… I don’t blame you.”

Then the unthinkable happened, the corners of his lips upturned almost imperceptibly but it was enough for me to notice. I turned then, beginning to walk away from him but his next words stopped me in my tracks. “I do remember one thing about you from before. You had a brother, I don’t know why that part stuck, maybe because of how much you talked about him, but, for whatever reason I remember it… you loved him a whole lot.”

My eyes were brimming with tears before I even had time to register the stinging sensation. It was as though I had no control whatsoever over my own bodily functions. I’d never had such a strong reaction to such a simple statement before but here I was holding my breath in an attempt to control myself and quickly wiping at the tears. I nodded again, still not facing him and not speaking another word for fear of my voice shaking. Just before I left the parking lot, I saw Steve talking to Sam. The former turned to face me as I approached, Sam departing to take a phone call. I recognized the look on Steve’s face instantly.

“You’re not going to try to recruit me, are you?”

He just chuckled. “No, I’d never dream of trying to tell you what to do.” In his eyes, there was a certain somber resignation that concerned me. It was not a look that made me optimistic about the future of the Avengers. “But, between us, I think there’s a logical choice, the one that seems like the obvious course, and then there is the choice that you’ll be able to live with.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at him. “The accords are the right thing.”

His lips pushed together into a frown. “Nadia, you can’t really expect me to believe that’s how you feel, whether you like it or not I know you a lot better than that. I’m not going to tell you what to choose, I respect you too much to do that, all I ask of you is to do only what you sincerely believe is right.”

My gaze dropped downward, unsure how to respond. There was a war raging in my mind and now with the information from Barnes I was finding it hard to focus on just one issue.

“You know, you are in so much trouble, maybe Natasha and I are bad influences on you.” I taunted, a weak attempt at diverting the conversation. Or maybe I just wanted to delude myself into thinking things were as they had been. “The longer this drags on the harder it will be to come back from.”

He nodded, that same look in his eyes that told me it wouldn’t matter what I said. “Well, we’re already in trouble, so what’s a little more.”

“Now I’m sure of it, Natasha and I have corrupted you.”

Steve breathed a laugh. “Probably.” He paused for a long moment, looking out at the trees and the blue of the sky before continuing. “Signing the accords… it’s giving up too much, I can’t do it, you know I can’t.”

I did. I had known that from the moment the accords were given to us by Ross. Although, I had hoped the stakes would be a little less. “Okay.” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. “Well then… I assume I’ll be seeing you.” Steve nodded and I paused, my phone was buzzing in my pocket, and I just wished I knew the right thing to say, to do, to fix this. “I hope you know he means well… Tony is just trying to make things right, the guilt of what happened to that boy, Charles, in Sokovia is eating him alive. Don’t take it personal.” I wasn’t sure why I needed him to know that so badly.

When he smiled then, it was real; genuine. “You’re a good friend, Nadia, a good person too.”

I didn’t respond to that, not verbally at least, instead saluting him teasingly. There was a soft smile spreading across my lips though. When I was leaving the car park, I answered Tony and Pietro’s text messages, informing them that I was on my way to the meeting point.

Steve’s words were heavy on my mind. There is a logical choice and then there is the one I’ll be able to live with. I thought of the footage Ross had shown us, all of the destruction, the chaos and loss, I thought of Charles Spencer and how devastated Tony was, the look on Pietro’s face after we returned from Laos. Then I thought of the Red Room, I thought of Dreykov and how it felt to be told my body belonged to my country, not to me.

This is how you become a patriot.

All of the things I’d been forced to do because it was for my country, for the greater good. I recalled being forced to watch other young girls be killed because they were compromised. If you went against the rules, you were a traitor, and traitors must be made examples of why you obey. I remembered Dreykov lifting my hand to aim the gun at Oksana’s head because she didn’t follow the rules.

For 12 years my life had not been mine. More than that really, out of the Red Room I was a free agent, but the truth was I’d traded Dreykov for Fury. Different circumstances but in both I obeyed, I played by their rules and in both I watched it crumble or be derailed. Hydra invaded S.H.I.E.L.D. had I not stepped back from my duties there I might have unwittingly followed Hydra’s agenda.

The sound of Oksana’s cries still haunted me, her pleas to spare her life filled my head as I made it to the meeting point.

There was a logical choice. One that might lessen the body count and reduce collateral damage. The choice that would yet again render me a lap dog to another institution.

Then there was the decision I could live with.

A streak of blue and silver whirred past me, Pietro stood before me with raised eyebrows, arms crossed over his chest. “That was a very long walk.”

“I had a lot on my mind?” I offered sheepishly.

He huffed exasperatedly but didn’t verbalize his frustration beyond a simple “Mhm.”

Tony turned toward me then, gesturing for me to follow him toward his private jet. Very few words were exchanged between us as he typed a code into the screen on the interior wall, causing a panel to shift open revealing the new suit he’d built me. I was once again awed by how perfect it was but then I narrowed my eyes at the man before me. “Is this really necessary?”

“Well, given how well the last conversation you had with Barnes went I figured you might want a little extra padding this time.”

I sighed, running my hand over the suit. “So, this is going to be a fight.”

“In a perfect world, no, but Cap’s not really known for having flexible ethics. I can’t imagine him ever standing down, so I plan on being prepared for whatever outcome eventuates.”

Tony eventually left me alone so that I could get dressed whilst he went to talk with Natasha and Rhoadey.

The new suit really was impressive. Only Tony Stark could build something this… extra. It was just a shame that its maiden voyage was under these circumstances. Footsteps echoed behind me, Pietro’s face appearing in the mirror. He leaned his arm over the top of one of the jet seats, something clearly bothering him. I turned to face him then, he wore his new suit as well, midnight blue and silver.

“Everything okay?”

He shrugged. “I was just going to ask you the same question.”

I ran a hand down the front of my suit, sighing quietly. “They’re not going to change their minds about any of this. The only way this ends is with a fight. So no, I’m not exactly ecstatic about all of this.”

“I get that, but that’s not what I mean, and you know it.” I raised an eyebrow at his words prompting him to continue. “The way you’ve been talking since all of this started, it doesn’t sound like you’re 100% in it.”

“I signed the accords, didn’t I?” The rhetorical question was my only reply as I looked down at my hands.

It was his turn to sigh, and he ran a hand over his face. “No more bullshit answers. Are you having second thoughts about all of this?”

“Of course I’m having second thoughts. How could I not be? This isn’t just some random group of villains or criminals; they are our friends and Wanda is your sister.”

“And they made their decision.”

I shook my head, before pressing the pads of my fingers into my temples to stave off the oncoming headache. “You don’t seriously think it is that simple. I know you don’t.”

“This is the only way to keep her safe… The only way to protect Wanda, and to protect you too.”

“But it isn’t what either of us want.”

He took a step toward me. “So, what do you want then?!” The sudden jump in volume almost startled me. “You signed the fucking accords, that was your decision because it was the right thing to do, and you know it! What is so damn conflicting?”

“You’re being an asshole right now, Pietro.”

I crossed my arms over my chest as he expelled a sigh of exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes shutting tightly. “I know, sorry. I just-”

“Hey, you guys it’s go time.” Rhoadey called, popping his head in for a brief moment.

Pietro and I stood before each other quietly, neither of us moving just yet. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times, clearly at a loss for words, so I made the first move. I stepped toward him, placing one hand over his cheek, thumb smoothing over his cheek bone. The truth was I didn’t know what to say either, there wasn’t anything I could say to soothe him because I did not want to lie to him. I was terrified right now, partially because I knew how things were going to go down and partially because I knew what my decision was.

My second hand pressed to his other cheek, and I pressed a tender kiss to his lips. There were no more words exchanged between us before I exited the plane.

By the time I caught up to Tony and Rhoadey on the tarmac Steve had already pled his case, explaining all about the crook psychiatrist who’d purposely triggered the sleeper agent in Barnes as well as the other super soldiers that were currently on ice and likely the doctor’s next target. Natasha had positioned herself behind Cap while Pietro went to find Wanda and the spider-kid that Tony had recruited was perched on the hood of a luggage shuttle after having locked Steve’s hands together with his strange webbing. T’Challa stood on the opposite side, scanning the area, likely searching for Barnes.

I glanced toward Tony, hoping to see something shift in his demeanor, anything to suggest he saw the other side of this. I didn’t find anything.

“You've been busy.” Steve said, glancing over at the kid.

“And you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint. 'Rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep…” Tony looked away to collect himself. “I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.

Steve was undeterred by his words. “You did that when you signed.”

“Alright, we’re done.” Tony stated firmly. “You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us. Now! Because it's us. Or a squad of J-SOC guys with no compunction about being impolite.”

Cap didn’t respond but he glanced off further down the runway toward a hanger. I furrowed my eyebrows, every muscle in my body tense with the anticipation of what would happen next. The blond man lifted his webbed hands above his head, an arrow soaring through the air within moments, slicing the restraints clean off.

The kid started speaking but before he could finish his sentence a man spawned out of thin air, kicking him off the shuttle and returning Cap’s shield to him. “Oh great.” Tony muttered. “Alright there’s two in the parking deck, one of them is Maximoff I’m gonna grab her, Speedy meet me there. Rhoadey and Nadia you wanna take Cap.”

I looked towards Steve as Rhoadey announced that Barnes and Sam were in the terminal, prompting T’Challa to jump into action.

When the fighting began, I found myself frozen to my spot on the tarmac. For, perhaps, the first time in my life when a fight broke out, I didn’t know what to do. These people are my friends; my family, I didn’t want to fight any of them. Cap threw his shield at T’Challa to stop him in his pursuit of Barnes and Rhoadey flew in to join the fight. I didn’t think I just moved, slipping in in front of Steve to block T’Challa’s punch with my arm.

“What are you doing?” He asked me angrily.

“I’m sorry, please, don’t take this personally.” I offered before swiftly moving to knock him off of his feet. I sent a high kick toward his head, but he ducked to avoid it, attempting to punch me in the ribs but I twisted and caught his wrist, using the momentum to flip him over. He managed to land on his feet, taking a swipe at me with his claws which I avoided by flipping backwards and kicking him in the chest on my way causing him to fall onto his back.

I turned over my shoulder to see a tiny truck morph into a massive full-sized truck that was hurdling toward Rhoadey, the explosion of the crash sent me tumbling. A hand extended toward me and when I looked up my eyes met Steve’s. “So maybe you’re not so sure about the accords after all?”

 “Well, you don’t have to be annoying about it.” I grumbled as I took his hand and moved back to my feet.

A man in a red and silver suit stepped forward. “I just have to say I’m a really big fan, this is a huge moment for me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You were small before, like a strange little bug.”

He nodded, shrugging sheepishly. “Choosing to see that as a compliment.”

Despite the situation my lips curved upward. “We need to go.” Cap said, gesturing for us to follow as he began to run down the tarmac. I followed hesitantly, not long after Wanda and Clint appeared, joining us, followed by Sam and Barnes.

The Quinjet was in sight when a blinding light appeared before us, searing into the concrete in a thick line, narrowly avoiding my toes. I looked up to see Vision hovering above us the stone on his forehead glowing. “Captain Rogers. I know you believe what you're doing is right. But for the collective good you must surrender now.”

Tony arrived then, flanked by Natasha, Rhoadey, Spider-boy, T’Challa and Pietro who watched me intently. A glance down revealed that my feet were straddling the line in the concrete, one foot on either side. All eyes were on me now. I swallowed heavily meeting Pietro’s eyes, hoping that he could see the remorse in them as I stepped over completely, taking a few steps toward Steve who nodded at me.

Tony raised his arms questioningly. “Seriously?”

“What do we do Cap?” Sam asked.

“We fight.”

Both sides began to approach and within moments the fighting had begun all over again but now it was everyone and the hits were much harder.

When I came face to face with Pietro it seemed surreal, unfathomable that we could be at such odds again. It reminded me of a time before, a time that now felt like a lifetime ago, before he knew me, before I knew him. His eyes were frantic as he approached slowly. “I guess we are supposed to be fighting.” I spoke.

I could see the violence from my peripheral, people who’d once been friends; family even, throwing punches and leaving bruises. “I’m not going to fight you, Nadia. Just listen to me.”

“Pietro, I don’t want to fight anymore either, but I’m not going to change my mind… I’m sorry I can’t go along with the accords… I can’t.”

He clutched his head for a moment before running a hand through his messy hair. “I understand. I get why you have reservations about authority and being controlled but…” I narrowed my eyes at him as he seemingly searched for the words. “Sokovia was destroyed… mine and Wanda’s home, obliterated. We did that. Our enhancements, this unimaginable power, cannot go unmanaged. It’s too dangerous.”

“Okay. You feel responsible for what happened, I get that. I’m not saying we should opt out of the fault; we were all involved, but this is not the solution. What happens when there’s a conflict that our intervention can help but the government disagrees? What happened in Sokovia was a tragedy, but a lot of people’s lives were saved by what we did as well what would have happened if we didn’t step in. I see your point, but my mind is made up, I’m not going to be something harbored by the government for their use whenever they see fit. I’ve done that. I won’t do it again.” I tried to be gentle, to keep a level-head, to preserve this thing between us but when I looked into his eyes it was different, there was still this strange feeling settled deep within my chest that something was inherently broken here. Whether it was our fate all along or whether the cracks began to form when I read the Hydra documents, I wasn’t entirely sure.

His voice was filled with frustration as he spoke, so much so that it almost made me flinch. “You don’t want to be used as a weapon. That much I get, but do you really not see that this is exactly what we are? Weapons… Nadia, what was done to you in the Red Room was monstrous but there was a method to that madness, they controlled you because they knew what they were creating, and that kind of power could not go unchecked. They instilled a killing instinct in you so of course they had to manage you. That is what Ross is trying to do, they just want to oversee us because they know it’s too dangerous to let us roam free. It is for the greater good.”

It was worse than taking a bullet. So painful it nearly knocked me over. There was a searing ache in my chest as he spoke, I barely even heard him now. I took a step back from him, eyes dropping to study the cracked concrete by my feet. “You think that what was done to me was for the greater good?” It sounded nothing like me and suddenly there was a thin papery feeling filling my limbs. I hadn’t felt this way since I was a child, since I was trapped in those walls, blood all over my hands, scars littering me like reminders. The sound of a trigger being pulled, again and again, cold gunmetal against my forehead. I felt it all over again.

He opened his mouth to respond but never got the chance as a beam of red threw him backwards. My head shot over to see Wanda glaring at me. “You’re pulling punches, Nadia.” 

“So, you fight him, he’s your brother.” I managed, turning quickly to walk away. My chest ached and each breath was a struggle to swallow.

As much as I tried to delude myself that maybe things would be fine, maybe everything could go back to the way it was, there was no denying that things had irreversibly shifted.

“Not exactly the most opportune time to switch sides.” Natasha’s voice called from behind me. I caught her punch as I turned swiftly but she was expecting in and twisted her hand around to overtake my hold on her wrist and pulled me forward to trip me over her leg, dropping me down onto my back and pinning me with her arm. She smiled at me. “We’re still friends, right?”

“Depends how hard you hit me.” I taunted, pulling her down and locking my legs her arm and shoulder before twisting around rapidly to flip her over onto her stomach on the ground while I swiveled around to my feet once more.

Nat moved to her feet as well, watching me carefully. “You really aren’t on our side anymore?”

I swallowed heavily, glancing out at the wreckage around us, the punches being thrown, the friendships being torn apart. “I can’t do it, Natasha. You know I can’t.”

She nodded, once, twice. “Yeah. I guess it just feels different now that it’s really happening.”

I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off by Barnes’ words. “We gotta go, that guys probably in Siberia by now.”

An orb of red threw Natasha back as Wanda landed beside me, narrowly avoiding Rhoadey’s line of fire.

Steve spoke up next. “We gotta draw out the flyers. I'll take Vision. You get to the jet.” He gestured for me to follow Sam.

“No, you and Barnes get to the jet!” Sam responded, taking off to evade Rhoadey. “The rest of us aren't getting out of here.”

Clint nodded, fire several arrows to cover us. “As much as I hate to admit it, if we're gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it.”

Cap looked back at me looked at me for a long moment, before glancing at the chaos behind us once again. “Nadia…” He trailed off, clearly unconvinced by this plan.

“I’ve gotten myself out of worse situations. It’ll be fine, you have to go, you cannot let that maniac doctor activate the other Winter Soldiers. You need to shut it down. We’ll cover you.”

“Alright, what's the play?”

“We need a diversion, something big.” Sam responded.

The shrinking man was the first to offer something. “I got something kind of big, but I can't hold it very long. On my signal, run like hell. And if I tear myself in half . . . don't come back for me.”

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “Are you actually going to tear yourself if half?” I spoke, hearing Barnes offer a similar sentiment in unison.

“I do it all the time. I mean once . . . in a lab. Then I passed out.”

“You're sure about this, Scott?” Steve asked.

After hearing Scott’s reassurances, we all agreed and the man set off, leaping from the mobile stairs to grab onto Rhoadey’s back. I narrowed my eyes, wondering how this was an effective diversion. My question was answered almost immediately when Scott suddenly morphed into a towering behemoth and grabbed a hold of Rhoadey’s leg. My mouth fell open, as I watched the scene unfold before me.

“Okay, tiny dude is big now. He's big now.” Rhoadey panicked over the comms.

“I guess that’s the signal.” Steve said glancing back at me one final time.

My shock at Scott’s display became secondary as I spotted a streak of blue and silver beelining for Cap. Pietro knocked him off his feet but the moment, he was stationary long enough I jumped onto one of the luggage shuttles before leaping off of it to tackle him to the ground. He groaned at the impact rolling away quickly and moving back to his feet. “Go!” I shouted to Cap and Barnes. “But if I find out this whole come-to-conscience remorse act is bullshit…” I looked Barnes directly in the eye then. “I’ll kill you myself.” He nodded once, meeting my eyes for a fleeting moment before turning away and following after Steve.

 When Pietro was on his feet again, he narrowed his eyes at me.

“Really?”

I moved into a defensive position despite the way it killed me to do it. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Oh? But you seem ready to.” He retorted.

He lurched forward, but I evaded his attack and blocked the next jab as well. For a while I stuck to this, merely blocking and dodging, realistically, there was no real force or skill behind his hits anyway. There was anger sure, but these weren't strikes meant to hurt. “You’re holding back.” I said.

“So are you.”

The sound of a building crumbling and crashing caught my attention. Both Pietro and I looked over to see the control tower collapsing over the entrance of the hangar that Steve and Barnes were headed for. Wanda was barely managing to keep the tower afloat when Rhoadey emitted some kind of frequency that had her grasping her ears and the building crashing down around the two men. The distraction was enough for Pietro to tackle me backward pinning me to the ground. “Stay down, Nadia, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“Sorry, but you know it’s not in my nature to make things easy for you.”  I slid my arm to press across his chest while my right leg shifted upward to push my knee into his stomach as I flipped us over swiftly, planting his back into the ground.

Another crash sounded, this time it was Scott toppling over, taking the spider-kid with him followed by the Quinjet soaring through the air. I stood quickly but was tripped by Pietro just as soon as my feet were on the ground. He’d used my classic move against me, hooking his ankle around mine and sweeping my feet. Now, I was pissed. I evaded his grip, rolling over him and situating my body behind his on the cold ground. I wrapped him into a chokehold, legs locked around him from behind. I had control of his movements, but my grip was loose over his airways, still allowing him to breath easily. “Stop fighting me!” I managed to get out.

“No! Not when you are this out of control.” I held onto him tighter as he thrashed against me. “This isn’t right, you know that the accords will protect people… but you don’t even care.” That stung, I’d admit. “This is bad, Nadia, even for you.” That cut deep, just like he knew it would.

All at once I let go of him, shoving him away from me and moving quickly to my feet. “Fuck you!” I spat, eyes stinging, stomach churning. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean it like that… this… it’s just…” He couldn’t find the words because it is what he’d meant. Even if it wasn’t he never got to finish the sentence because before he managed to spit out what he was saying our attention was pulled by a beam of light emanating from Vision that soared right up toward the Quinjet, no doubt aimed at Sam who was tailing Rhoadey but when the former diverted courses to evade the beam it hit Rhoadey in the chest, searing through the heart of the suit. The lights shut off and suddenly he was plummeting rapidly toward the ground.

“No.” I muttered, taking off in a sprint toward the field that he was headed for. Tony was hurtling toward him from above, but he was too far behind, there was no way he would catch up. For some reason his distressed calls, over the comms for Rhoadey had my heart stuttering anxiously and made me sick to my stomach, more so than anything else had today.

Grass and dirt sprayed toward me as the War Machine suit collided with the ground. Tony landed a moment later, ripping the face plate from Rhoadey I slowed when I reached them, surveying the face of my unconscious friend, blood spattered across it. I came to a momentary halt looking between him and Tony before moving to crouch beside them and examine the injured man, but a burst of energy hit me directly in the chest causing me to tumble backward onto the grass. I pressed a hand to the sore spot where Tony’s ray had hit me, eyebrows furrowing as I looked at him.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“DON’T!” I wasn’t sure he’d ever shouted at me like that before. “Just stay the hell away, Pimenova.” The venom dripping from his words made my heart stutter again, it shattered me completely. I did not understand why it was so devastating. “You can act like double-crossing us was some moral dilemma all you want; I don’t care you made your bed and now you can lay in it. Ross is going to be hunting you; I can’t protect you from that and to be honest, right now, I don’t want to.”

My eyes stung and I turned my head away before he saw the glistening in them. “I didn’t double cross you, I tried to do this your way, I couldn’t.” I swallowed heavily, moving to my feet once more and turning away from him. Before I left, I tilted my head to the side, toward him. “And I don’t need you to protect me from anything, Tony.”

With that I walked away.

I walked out of the field and back through the airstrip, moving quickly, scanning the area as I went to ensure I didn’t bump into any of Ross’ men on my way. Unfortunately, the person who stepped in front of me just before I reached the exit was much worse than a firing squad.

Pietro watched me, chest rising and falling rapidly, frantic eyes darting across my face. “Get out of my way, Pietro.” The words were glacial, a tone I’d not taken with him in a long time.

He shook his head. “No, Nadia, I’m not moving until we talk about this.”

“We already talked about it. That’s not what you really want, what you want is for me to agree with you and that isn’t going to happen so there’s nothing left to talk about.”

“There’s nothing left to talk about?” His eyes narrowed slightly; jaw clenched but the expression on his face did not resemble anger. “That’s it then? You’re done and we aren’t even going to talk about it.”

I shrugged, there was a lump in my throat and my eyes were stinging but I swallowed it down. “You’ve made it very clear where you stand, I see now, what you really think. What more could you possibly have to say?”  He ran a frantic hand through his hair, shaking his head, eyes shut tightly as he seemed to search for the correct words. “I mean that is why you were so willing to help Hydra, no? Why you kept all of those notes, you didn’t send them… but you kept them. They were a reminder, weren’t they? Of the person I really am.” I’d never seen him look so pale, like he’d seen a ghost. I told him to move once more, he just kept shaking his head.

“No. No, you’re not walking away like this, we’re not done talking.” He swallowed heavily. “If you really cared about me… about this.” He gestured between us. “If this mattered to you, you wouldn’t do this.”

“Don’t.” I blinked rapidly, desperately fighting the stinging in my eyes. “Don’t do that, that isn’t fair, you can’t just use us against me. Our relationship can’t the deciding factor in which side I choose, and I don’t think you actually want it to be.”

He shrugged. “So maybe you don’t know me that well. It shouldn’t be such a hard decision for you, the Accords are the only way forward, the right choice. I would have thought that doing what is right for the greater good mattered enough to you that I wouldn’t have to use our relationship to sweeten the deal, but maybe I don’t know you either.” It was facetious and sounded nothing like him.

“Pietro, get out of my way now.” I gritted my teeth, forcing down the emotions that were bubbling within me, focusing on the anger, that was where my strength was. It’s what I was good at. He needed me to be the villain, maybe that’s how he’d always seen me anyway. “Move, or I will make you.”

“Is that what you’re going to do? Well, go ahead, Nadia, because that’s the only way I’m going anywhere.” He moved forward until he was standing right in front of me. “Go on then, hurt me.” I didn’t move an inch. My stomach churned and I felt ill.

I clenched my hands into fists, heart racing against my chest. All I wanted was for this to be over. In that moment, looking at his face, his beautiful, frantic blue eyes, was unbearable. “Move.” It was barely a whisper, a breath that tapered off at the end, desperate and tired. My eyes were still stinging but I ignored it, swallowing all of it down and steeling myself; just as I always had before. He refused to budge, only staring at me with an expression that made me feel small. I didn’t think I could bare another second of that look, but then I did what I warned him I would. I ducked and weaved around him and when he managed to grab me, I pressed the control on my suit that activated the red and shocked him backward. A hard hit to the side of his ribs and a kick in the back of his knee sent him to the ground.  The look he gave me then, accompanied by the pained breath passing his lips as he cradled his side, I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from. I turned away; knowing that if I stayed now, I might not be able to leave at all. His next words had me stopping dead in my tracks for a moment.

“I guess it’s true what they say. Once a double agent…” I closed my eyes tightly, stilling my body and holding my breath, forcing myself to remain strong, to be indifferent. I’d done it a million times before, why was it so hard now? Just when I felt like I might have control Pietro spoke again. “I’m glad you didn’t say it back. It would’ve been just another lie.”

It didn’t matter how hard I tried, the stinging in my eyes wouldn’t let up but this time it didn’t stop at that. He didn’t need to add any more context than that; didn’t need to spell it out. A hot tear streamed down my cheek, burning the whole way down. I quickly wiped it, glancing back at him over my shoulder. The cold, dismayed expression that he wore faltered ever so slightly when our eyes met, his lips parting slightly as he gazed at me.

“For the record, I didn’t want it to end like this.” His eyes softened ever so slightly but I turned away before I could change my mind.

He’d be fine, maybe a little bruised but nothing beyond that, because the truth was even in the end, I’d still pulled my punches. Because when it was him, I couldn’t bring myself to put any real force into it.

He had repeatedly told me that there was no point in my incessant efforts to push him away. It wouldn’t work. I couldn’t make him hate me.

I guess he was wrong.

Though maybe I’d never needed to try to make him hate me, maybe this was just written in our fate from the beginning.

All along, solitude was the only plausible ending for me.

Chapter Text

By the time I’d returned home, New York had begun following in Vienna’s footsteps, the warmth of spring rearing its head as the last of the snow melted away.

In the light of day everything looked different.

The compound was eerily silent, my swift footsteps seeming raucous against the immense quiet. Beneath my bed, within an unassuming cardboard box that lay behind other various bits and pieces was a black duffle bag. Inside was a selection of passports, fake documentation, cash, a burner phone and a few items for disguise. Perhaps there was one positive to my tumultuous childhood, I was always prepared. This go-bag was my perfected kit, containing everything I needed to disappear. I quickly shed my outfit, changing into jeans, a plain white top and my brown leather jacket, unassuming and easy to ditch later. I grabbed the gun I had hidden beneath my pillow and one of the ones held in the back of my closet, sliding one into the back of my jeans and jamming the other into my bag along with some ammo. When I had what I needed I slung the bag across my body and began toward the door, though I paused beside my nightstand, glancing down at the frame sitting there. A picture of Natasha and I that she’d framed for me.

What’s more you than your own face?

I smiled at the recollection, pulling the photo out and stowing it away along with one other picture that had been in the drawer. When I was done, I forced myself to keep going. I only had one last order of business at the compound, and I needed to get moving because it wouldn’t be long before Ross and co. arrived. My stomach turned as I stepped into Pietro’s room, chest tightening as I glanced over his haphazardly made bed; his worn-out sneakers, I walked passed all of it, ignoring the familiar smell of his cologne and the memories that hit me from being in here. Shoving aside the clothes in his closet I quickly found the files I was looking for, all of the notes and communications, everything linking him to Hydra and slid them under my arm. I made quick work of moving to the office and putting every page contained in the folders through the paper shredder. Again and again, I watched the paper turn into ribbons of white, the letters muddled and cut and unintelligible. When it was all shredded, I opened the lid of the machine and shred it even further by hand, making sure there was no way to read what had been there. I tore the bits of paper until there was nothing left of Pietro’s agreement with Hydra.

Pietro and Wanda were pardoned by the government for their part in Ultron’s crimes because they switched sides and helped save a lot of lives. If the United States government found out that he’d been colluding with what was considered a terrorist organization, they would not be so quick to forgive. I wasn’t sure that being Avengers would protect them from the consequences of that.

My phone had not stopped buzzing since I arrived, I pulled it from my pocket quickly seeing dozens of messages and calls from Anna and a bunch of unfamiliar numbers. At the very top sat a missed call from Nick Fury as well as a voicemail notification. I pressed play as I finished destroying the documents.

“Nadia, I know that you’re all a little busy down there at the moment, so I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important. You’ve told me many times to leave the past where it belongs, but basically, I didn’t listen. People tell me I have trouble letting things go, anyway, I kept digging into your past and… just call me back as soon as possible.”

Nick had a flare for the dramatic, though, I’d never heard him sound like this before. He spoke quickly, disbelief intertwined within each word. My finger hovered over his contact but then I glanced at the clock and hesitated, I’d been here too long already and no doubt my phone would be under surveillance, the second I made a call Ross would know my location. Whatever Fury wanted to tell me would have to wait.

I finally left the compound then. Destroying the evidence was the last order of business I had there, the last thing I needed to do. My last endeavor to protect Pietro Maximoff. Or at least that’s what I told myself.

From there I headed straight to the location I’d arranged with my contact; before I arrived at the private airstrip I ditched my phone on a bus heading into the city. In an hour when the vehicle reached the outskirts of New York City a scheduled text message would be sent from my phone pinging its location.

The message was to Anna, and it contained only one word:

Red.

It was a codeword we’d decided on years ago, simply put, it meant that there was trouble and whatever device that had sent the message was compromised. I trusted that this message along with what she’d inevitably find out had happened at the airport would be enough context for her.  

I’d thought about escape just about every day for the last 20 years. In every room I entered I mapped out every possible exit and had a plan for how I would get to it. My mind was always calculating, formulating a plan. Call is self-preservation or a survival instinct, whatever it was it had ingrained itself into the very fabric of my being. The problem was that I’d gotten too comfortable, not just at the compound but in my relationships, my friendships, my daily routines. I’d begun to let my guard dwindle. I’d allowed myself to trust and be trusted and most importantly I stopped scoping out every possible escape route. So, now, this is what I’m left with. This contact of Natasha’s that had me meet him in an old private airfield just outside the city.

“Nadia, I’m guessing?” The man offered me a brief wave as he stepped in front of me. “I’m Rick, we spoke earlier.”

I glanced down at his outstretched hand, a moment of silence passing between us before I slowly accepted it, shaking once before letting go. Thankful for the motorcycle gloves he wore, unsure I could bear any further human contact right now.

“Thank you for meeting me, did you get what I asked for?”

He tilted his head side to side, gesturing for me to follow him as he began an old rusty hangar. “So, given the time constraints I was a little strapped for resources, but I got you a short-term solution while we work on the long term one.” He pushed the large metal doors open to reveal a tiny little plane.

“Cute.”

He nodded. “Very cute, it’s a Cirrus SR22, it’ll get you to The Bahamas but no further so no dawdling. I’ve got you’re landing coordinates all mapped out, you’ll land in another private airstrip that’s expecting you. The guy you’re meeting there is a friend of mine, he won’t give you any trouble. You already know the rest and I’ll be in touch when I’ve got another next safe house for you.”

I caught the keys he threw to me, stowing them in my pocket as I threw my duffle into the back of the plane. “Thank you, really.”

He just nodded again. “It’s all good, I owe Natasha, any friend of hers is good people in my book.” I smiled at that, though hearing her name worsened the ache in my chest. “Hey, you know it’s pretty hot on you right now in the city, you must’ve really pissed some important people off.”

I swallowed heavily, pulling the door to the plane open before turning back to face him. “Pretty much, but it’s not the first time and it probably won’t be the last.”

He laughed at that. “Fly safe, seriously though, head straight to those coordinates or that thing will burn out.” Was the last thing he said to me. I raised an eyebrow at him, glancing back at the plane over my shoulder.

“Good to know.” I mumbled, climbing aboard.

For the next 4 hours I replayed all of the events from the last few days. What Barnes had said about the lab in Serbia where I’d been kept and the one in Siberia where those other super soldiers remained on ice, waiting to be activated. I thought of the hurt on Pietro’s face as I stepped over that line and the feeling of that Beam from Tony’s suit hitting me right in the chest; the searing agony that had nothing to do with the burst of light and everything to do with the look in his eyes.

…

It was night when I landed in the private airstrip in Nassau. A man with long dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail was there to greet me as I stepped out of the plane.

“I’m Alby, you must be Rick’s friend?”

 “Yes.” I nodded, slinging the duffle bag over my shoulder. He tossed me a set of two keys, one for a house and the other I assumed was for a car but then Alby gestured behind me to a light blue moped.

I sighed heavily, too exhausted to argue. With a thank you to the man before me, I tightened the strap of my duffle bag and climbed onto the bike, sliding the helmet on. Rick had already told me the address of the safehouse and there was a map in my bag. Before driving to the place, I’d be staying I stopped at a local pharmacy and grocery store to grab a few things I’d need.

The little cottage Rick had given me the address for was lemon yellow, but I paid no mind to its exterior as I slipped inside, immediately shutting all of the curtains and securing all the windows and doors. When I was satisfied that the house was secure, I laid my supplies out.

I took a bite of an apple that I bought, holding it between my teeth as I mixed the hair dye in a small plastic bowl. As I ran the brush over each strand of my hair Pietro’s voice was in my head. I thought of that night in New York all those months ago when he’d told me he wanted to be my boyfriend. I thought of lying in the grass with him in Central Park, the sun pressing into our flesh. He had tried so hard for so long to get my attention, to get me to admit that I felt something for him, no matter how hard I’d pushed him away, how mean I was to him. He’d been infuriatingly resolute in his efforts. I wondered if he regretted it all now; I wouldn’t blame him. My stomach sunk at the thought. I had tried… hadn’t I. Tried to keep this all together, I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t want it to end this way. Even when I knew what he’d done, what he’d told Hydra, I’d still held onto him, when I felt him slipping after Lagos I held on tighter. I thought of what he’d said to me at the airstrip.

This is bad, Nadia, even for you.

Because I am bad, that is what he’d meant.

I wondered if he’d thought that all along or if it had merely grown. I supposed it didn’t really matter.

I wasn’t trying to be bad. I didn’t want to be bad. I had tried not to be.

Wasn’t this the right choice? I couldn’t have lived with the other choice, that was what Steve had said and he was right. I couldn’t have lived with it if the accords stopped us from helping people who needed it.

I thought of Rhoadey plummeting down toward the ground. Was he even, okay? I hadn’t had the chance to find out. The burning sensation in the center of my chest had not ceased for even a moment, I swore I could still feel the beam of energy hitting me, over and over again.

I wiped the tears from my face, and only then did I realize how shaky my hands were. When my hair was covered in the dark liquid I dabbed it onto my eyebrows as well. I couldn’t escape the thoughts darting around in my mind, not just of Pietro but Barnes as well. The things he’d told me clung to my skin. There were pieces of me that I remember, many little pieces that had come back to me and yet the time spent in Serbia was practically non-existent in my mind. I supposed it should not be so shocking to me, to not remember a chunk of my life. Then I thought of the white room where I was strapped down to a chair while the ballet played, I wondered if that all happened at the Hydra base where Barnes and I first met. It was incredibly frustrating to feel so disconnected from the memory, to have such an unyielding blind spot in my mind.

Dark water pooled around the drain as I rinsed my hair absentmindedly watching the spirals of diluted color.

It was warm here, humidity pressing into my flesh the moment I’d stepped off of the plane. I had barely even noticed. In New York the air was still a little chilly even as winter gave into spring. I wondered if the warmth of Nassau could thaw the icy cold that was pressing into my chest, but I decided it was unlikely.

I looked into my own eyes in the mirror as I towel dried my hair, now at least my appearance matched how I felt; nothing like me. When I was done, I dressed in the pajamas that I’d found folded neatly in a set of drawers then I slid beneath the covers and pulled the duvet up to my chin, ignoring the discomfort of laying on my back. There was a prevailing silence in the room that unsettled me as I stared up at the ceiling that was only just visible thanks to the slither of moonlight that crept in through the window. After a long while of suffocating silence I turned onto my side and pulled the duvet over my head.

For a week I remained within the lemon-yellow walls, never drawing the curtains open to let the sun touch my skin, never breathing the fresh sea breeze, only drifting aimlessly around the bedroom like a ghost or laying, shrouded in the darkness of the duvet, replaying the day in at the airport, again and again. Rhoadey falling hitting the ground, Tony aiming his glove at me, the look on his face, Pietro’s voice.

“Go on then, hurt me.” 

The cupboards were stocked with non-perishables that I occasionally ventured into the kitchen for, though hunger wasn’t much of an issue when I’d become so sluggish.

On my 8^th day in Nassau, I ventured into the sitting room. I ran the tip of my finger over the spines of the few books haphazardly strewn across the small side table, blowing the dust from my finger when I pulled it back. I opened and closed my burner phone a few times, checking for any new messages from Rick. There was nothing, every single time. I paced the floor in front of the couch and when that didn’t quiet my mind, I turned on the television, sitting down when I saw a picture of my face pop up. Natasha’s picture came after causing me to still, she’d switched sides too. I wondered where she was now, she must have evaded Ross if they’d listed her as a fugitive. Sam, Wanda, Clint and Scott hadn’t been so lucky I guess since they weren’t mentioned. I stared at my picture in the corner of the screen for a long moment before promptly switching the TV off and standing up and making my way to the kitchen and yanking various drawers open to rifle around until I found what I was searching for. When my fingertips dragged over the cold metal I pulled the scissors from the drawer, making my way to the bathroom. For the first time in days my head was clear, the sound of snipping the only one filling the room. Dark brown locks fell to the floor around my feet.

When the ends of my hair barely brushed my shoulders, I dropped the scissors into the sink and then I left the house for the first time in over a week. The sun nearly blinded me as I stepped out, immediately putting my hand up to shield my eyes. The sound of the ocean filled my ears, salty air filled my lungs as I took a deep breath. I lingered on the front step for a while, eyes closed, head tilted back as the warmth bathed over me. It was like the sway of the waves called to me, lured me closer, down the steps, through the gate and toward the shoreline

The feeling of the sand between my toes, the waves crashing against one another, it all melded together in my mind. Soft fingertips tapped my cheeks, my nose, dusted curls from my eyes. The sun was setting, casting a perfect reddish pink light over everything. My back was propped against a pair of legs that rocked me back and forth, my hands held by someone else’s. Humming filled my ears followed by the smooth melody of a familiar voice.

“The monsters gone, he’s on the run and your mommy’s here.” She sang to me, tugging my hands along to sway. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl.” She pressed a feather light kiss to my nose causing me to giggle. The reaction caused her to press a flurry of kisses all over my face. I managed to wriggle out of her grip, running along the sand as she called after me between her own laughs. A glance over my shoulder revealed her to me, or at least a glimpse of her, a phantom of blonde hair and warm smiles. She made grabby hands at me as she reached out, calling out again and again but I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. It took me a moment to realize she was addressing me by a name that was inaudible to my ears; it came out jumbles and incoherent.

I tried to hold onto the memory, to stop and listen a little closer, to really hear what she was saying but the harder I tried the more distant it became.

“No, no, no.” I murmured as the moment dissipated into nothingness.

I fell backward into the sand, gripping it in my fist and then releasing it as I laid back on the warm sediment. Staring up at the endless blue above, an abyss of sunny days that seemed to taunt me, laugh at my solitude.

“Close your eyes; have no fear, the monsters gone, he’s on the run and your mommy’s here…” I swallowed the lump in my throat, closing my eyes tightly. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl.” All I could picture was the same memory, the blonde woman, the sunset, nothing else came. I decided to try something else. “Stars shining bright above me, night breezes seem to whisper…” I felt my eyes begin to sting. My throat was dry as I sang to myself. “I love you.” When nothing new made itself known to me I began to feel frustrated and honestly a little stupid.

It had worked before, listening to the songs had prompted my memories before why not now?

For the remainder of the day, I laid there in the sand, staring up at the blue sky above, the splotches of clouds.

Serbia. That is where I was kept, for months I’d been there. Time that was practically lost to me now. I thought of the ballerina’s twirling across the stage, the sweat beading on my forehead as I laid on that bed in Brazil, paralyzed by the flurry of memories. It was supposed to be easier now, Norris said the mental block in my wind was cracked, I should be able to remember, so why could I still feel the barrier, I knew I had more access now because where there had been nothing but a cold blank spot in my mind where nothing lived now things dwindled in the shadows, just out of reach. I wasn’t sure what was worse.

When I sat up the sun was nothing, but a mere suggestion hinted at along the horizon. I rested my chin atop my knee, watching the waves crest and break.

I opened the burner phone that Rick had given me, pressing the only number on speed dial. The phone rang 3 times before the line connected, there was silence at first, I knew he was just being caution, in case I’d been made, and the phone was stolen.

“I need a favor.”

He hummed. “Another favor?”

“I want you to ask your contacts if they heard about any hydra operations based in Serbia over the last 20 years, if they don’t know anything call the number, I send you and tell the woman who answers that you have a friend in common that wants to know if she’s heard about it. If she asks questions just tell her ‘Red’. I can pay for any information you find.”

After another moment of silence, he agreed, and I hung up before texting him Anna’s number.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready for this, or just how painful it would be to uncover the past that had evaded me for all these years. But at some point, while I was laying there in the sand, that same woman’s voice that had stuck with me all those years humming in my mind, I realized just how badly I needed to know. No matter what it was, or the toll it took on my mind. I had to know what was taken from me.

And I wouldn’t stop until I did.

Chapter Text

9 days earlier.

Pietro

I pressed a hand to my ribs to soothe the ache there. Ross sat a few rows back on the plane, frustration practically emanating from him. He’d all but thrown things around back at the headquarters, furious as the shit show that had unfolded at the airport. Rhoades had been airlifted to the hospital; he’d lost motor control below his hips, but he would be okay, Tony had mentioned something about him meeting us back at the compound. I’d barely uttered a word since we left the airport.

The compound. Nadia’s phone had pinged halfway between here and the city an hour ago, Ross assumed she was headed here. He’d begrudgingly allowed me 10 minutes to talk to her before the others, Ross wanted this contained, he thought I might be able to talk her down. Convince her to back down, I couldn’t imagine it was likely. Even if Nadia seemed prepared to change her mind, I’m pretty sure that I’m the last person she’d want to speak to right now.

I’d never heard the compound so quiet before. There was not a sound to be heard, no television playing, no hum of conversation, no sizzling oil as someone cooked; nothing. I wandered down the entryway cautiously, glancing around for any sign of life, avoiding the cavernous hole in the floor from where Wanda had buried Vision when she ran to join the fight. I swallowed heavily as I stepped into the hallway, staring down toward the familiar door. When I took a step closer, I noticed a slither of light trickling out between the door and frame. It was open, I realized. I took another step forward but, as if my body was working independently of my intentions, I found myself speeding forward and through the doorway. My heart was in my throat as I shoved the door open, letting the natural light pour over me and into the hallway. 

The room was slightly disheveled, bed sheets messed up, hangers on the floor, closet doors left open. I wandered forward picking up the hangers and returning them to the closet. I closed the doors and then I sat down on the bed, letting my eyes fall closed for a while.

She wasn’t here, of course she wasn’t. Nadia would never be so predictable; she knew Ross would be tracking her phone she’d never be caught so easily. There was every chance she’d never been her at all, maybe this was how she left the room When she and Natasha left for Vienna in the first place. I looked around at the space before me, the armchair by the window, the hardcover book sitting unfinished on the seat.

I let myself fall back onto the plush comforter. The sudden disturbance of her sheets caused her scent to come alive all around me. The faint smell of her perfume and shampoo overwhelmed my senses, that and the smell of her first thing in the morning, before she’d spritzed anything onto her skin, when it was just her. I closed my eyes tightly again, taking a deep breath, it was almost enough to pretend she was really here. When I heard footsteps down the hall, I sat upright. Evidently, my 10 minutes was up. It was then that I saw it, from this angle it was much more obvious, the picture frame that sat on Nadia’s nightstand was now empty glass that once encased a picture of her and Natasha. For a long moment I just stared at it, unable to tear my eyes away, but then I was on my feet. I rushed from room to room throwing doors open and scanning every corner. The thought that she had been here burning into my mind, had we narrowly missed her? How close were we?

Though there was one question I didn’t dare ask, I couldn’t bring myself to voice it. Still, I searched every inch of the compound, almost convincing myself that I could feel her, the phantom of her presence, the sound of her breaths. 

Yet even after scouring every single room in the compound there was no sign of her. There was one final thing left, I knew it was futile, yet without a second thought I pulled my phone from my pocket and pressed the familiar contact. One ring… two rings… three rings… I couldn’t hang up, even though this was a pointless endeavor, I needed to hear ever monotonous ring before I could put the phone down. However, the fourth ring never came.

“Hello?” A voice echoed down the line.

My heart felt as though it stopped momentarily, but then I furrowed my eyebrows. “Who is this?”

“My names Marty, I found this phone on my bus, guessing someone forgot it?”

I hung up, not even bothering to offer a response. Ross stepped into the hallway then, glancing at me expectantly. 

“She isn’t here.” I muttered, still staring down the empty corridor, as if I could actualize her into being there.

He sighed heavily. “No of course she’s not, she knows better.” I looked over to see him shake his head before pulling his phone from his jacket pocket. “And I’d hope you know better than to help her going forward, she’s only made this worse for herself. No need to let her drag you down too.” 

I looked at the ground, swallowing hard and choosing not to respond. When Ross walked away with his phone to his ear, I took it as a sign that I was dismissed. I turned to my bedroom door, closing it behind me and leaning back against the wood. My head hit the door with a quiet thud as I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, as though I could wipe away the memories of the past couple of days. Like I could forget how it felt to watch my own sister get arrested. My head was pounding, the pain had persisted for days, never giving me a minute of peace. Maybe getting some sleep might help. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept through the night. I’d been restless since Ross first presented the accords to us, but even before that I’d struggled to soothe my mind. Even when I managed to settle, I’d want to stay alert to wake Nadia from her nightmares. I forced the thought from my mind, kicking my shoes off and meandering toward my bed. When the covers were pulled back, I dropped down onto the mattress.

I laid there for maybe five minutes before my eyes opened again. My body moved upward slowly, rolling onto my back first before I sat up, eyebrows furrowed as I stared across the room. The doors to my closet were both left wide open. I wasn’t sure what it was about it that bothered me, but something pushed me out of bed and toward it. When I stood in front of the cupboard, I finally noticed the mess within, some of my clothes had fallen from hangers but it was the boxes at the bottom that held my attention, they’d all been shifted around. I pulled them out quickly, reaching back to feel around for the files that I’d stowed there. Panic began to set in when I realized that they weren’t there.

My spine straightened and I began to pace the floor.

I catalogued the information within them, trying desperately to remember if there was anything that could be used against her in those notes; anything of importance or that could get her in trouble. I didn’t remember anything specific. Then I thought about what might happen to me if Ross had been the one to find them. That was a whole lot of incriminating evidence that I’d worked with Hydra. My heart was racing, why didn’t I just destroy those fucking files?

Nadia was already in trouble, what if there was something in there that Ross could use to bury her. I sped through the compound to Tony’s office. He sat, facing toward the window, completely silent.

“They’re gone.” I spoke, causing his head to lean to the side, an acknowledgment that he’d heard me. “The files I’d had on Nadia, they’re gone.”

Finally, he swiveled his chair to face me, expression completely blank. He blinked at me a few times; I couldn’t tell whether he was considering what I’d said or if he was just utterly unconcerned. A few minutes passed until he offered any kind of response. He didn’t speak right away, instead, his eyes drifted down to the floor beside his desk. I followed his eyeline to see a full paper shredder. Tony rested his jaw on top of his fist, glancing back up at me, face still devoid of any readable emotion. “It was switched on when I came in here.”

It was like a punch to the gut. I shook my head, not understanding the implications. My head felt like it was spinning, migraine increasing tenfold. I shook my head again before dropping it into my hands. “No.” I muttered, almost inaudible. Tony said nothing as I repeated the word again. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why… Would she... no.” I couldn’t accept it; wouldn’t. I turned toward the door, but dizziness quickly took over my body. “Why would she do that?” I barely got it out, my throat drying up at the end, words rasping out.

She had been here, she must have needed to come back for something, but it was enough of a risk just to be here. Why would she do this? Why would she take the time to find the files and shred them. She could have gotten herself caught, she didn’t know how close behind her Ross was, she had no way of knowing that the extra time spent here destroying the files wouldn’t foil her escape and yet… she took the time to protect me, even after everything that happened at the airport, after what I had said to her.

I told her I was glad she hadn’t told me she loved me back. Like it had all been a mistake. As though I regretted saying it in the first place.

She hadn’t said it back. I told her that I loved her, and she didn’t say it back, but she saved my life in Sokovia, and in Amsterdam too. She could’ve died in that car, yet she refused to leave me. She woke me from my nightmares in Moscow and then she laid with me all night, despite her dislike of being touched. She never left my side, even when she didn’t trust me. She never let me believe I was a bad person even in the beginning when she was trying so desperately to push me away, she still reassured me of my good heart. She took me to the city that means so much to her and showed me all of her safe places just so that I might find somewhere to call my own. I betrayed her before we’d even met and then I lied to her about it for the entirety of our relationship and she didn’t even hate me for it. I told her that I loved her, and Nadia didn’t say it back in those same words, but she hadn’t said nothing.

Everything that she had done for me since we met didn’t count for nothing.

It spoke volumes.

“I see now, what you really think.”

No matter how hard I tried to push the thoughts away, all I could hear was her voice.

“you didn’t send them… but you kept them. They were a reminder, weren’t they? Of the person I really am.”  

I regretted allowing myself the luxury of hope when I’d stepped back into the compound, because that is what I’d done, hoped; hoped that I would push her bedroom door open to see her standing before the window, sunlight warming her skin, making her hair appear even lighter. It was easy to imagine her smile, even when it had been quite a while since I’d seen the full breadth of it.

I didn’t know what I’d say to her if she had been there. What could I say? Nothing seemed right after what I’d already said. The look on her face haunted me.

I couldn’t wipe that from my memory, no matter how desperately I tried.

And now she was gone, like she’d never even been here to begin with.

I dropped down into the chair across from Tony’s desk. He filled two glasses with amber colored liquor, pushing one toward me before taking the other for himself as he leaned back into his chair.

“What a shit show this all turned into, huh?” I nodded, not trusting my voice enough to verbalize a response. Tony’s phone was buzzing on the table, but he declined the call after checking the name. “Ross have any idea where she is?” His expression was still mostly unreadable, but I was sure I saw a hint of something flash across his eyes.

“No.” I took a large sip of my drink before continuing. “She left her phone on some random bus, the ping was obviously meant to be a distraction.”

“Yeah, I’d say she would’ve ditched that pretty quickly.”

I nodded again, finishing the drink and pouring a little more into the glass. Tony didn’t mention it, his phone had not stopped buzzing. He was right. Nadia knew Ross would be after her, she ditched her phone because she was going to disappear. Gone, without a trace, no remnants, just gone. I finished the second drink in one gulp. Tony’s phone began buzzing yet again.

“Goddamn Fury.” He muttered, finally answering it and putting an end to the maddening vibrations. “What do you need, Nick?” He spoke into the phone. I could only hear the sound of muffled chatter from the other end nothing specific but whatever Fury said to Tony must have been significant because suddenly it was as though every emotion missing from Tony for the last few moments flashed across his face at once as he sat up stick straight. He remained silent but the color drained almost entirely from him.

I narrowed my eyes at the man before me, wondering what had caused him to react in such a way. Still, Tony was silent. He looked nothing like himself. After a few more seconds of his strange behavior he stood from his seat, not saying a word to me as he left the room, drink left barely touched.  I stared at the dark liquor for a long time, shoulders drawn together with tension.

Thoughts of my sister swarmed my mind. We’d never really been apart like this before, even under Strucker’s experimentations we were kept close to each other. I couldn’t remember a time when we’d ever been at odds like this. But she had made a choice, I tried to remind myself. It was her choice to go against the accords, she’d chosen to betray us; I ignored the memories of attending protests together, the civil unrest we’d both been apart of back in Sokovia.

That was how I got through the coming days as well, I did my best to push the unwanted memories to the back of my mind. Tony had made himself scarce since his ominous phone call with Nick Fury and I hadn’t heard Vision speak at all since we’d returned. The compound was too quiet, I felt like I was going out of my mind. There was nothing to distract myself from the echoes of Nadia’s voice.

I tried to work out, but it was as though she was right there with me in the training room. Everywhere I went I could feel her gaze following me. Yet, whenever I’d turn, she was nowhere to be seen. During the day I could redirect my thoughts, each time my mind would shift to her I’d force myself to think of something else. However, at nighttime I was not so in control. She existed freely in my dreams, occupying every crevice of my mind, conquering my every thought. It was as though there was some part of me that belonged, in its entirety, to her. No matter how much I tried to ignore it or avoid dealing with those thoughts, that piece of me would always be reserved for her. It was maddening, utterly infuriating; she had made her choice, that was what I told myself, again and again. Yet, no matter how many times I repeated it like a mantra, it was still her voice in the back of my head.

“For the record, I didn’t want it to end like this.”

In my mind that was much louder than my own voice. It was all I could hear and every time I’d remember the soft look she’d given me, the gleam of tears building in her pretty eyes.

It was already unbearable as it was, but now it was also accompanied by the knowledge that she’d shredded the files tying me to Hydra.

One final act of gentleness toward me.

I couldn’t think about it anymore. Not when I was struggling to even pinpoint what I was feeling. At the airstrip I’d been mad, furious, but mostly what I hadn’t realized then was that I was also terrified. Terrified of what it would mean if Nadia and Wanda chose to go against the accords, and completely petrified of losing them both.

I guess at least now I did not have to wonder what would happen.

In an attempt to dull the thoughts suffocating me, I sat down behind Tony’s desk and began writing them down. Hoping that if I could get them out onto the page, I’d finally get a moment of peace.

Chapter Text

I did my best to avoid trampling the blooming flowers as I hiked further into the Balkan Mountains. I’d arrived in Serbia a day and a half ago and set to trekking right away, following the map I’d made from the intel Rick had given me as well as satellite images that I’d studied for discrepancies. It had taken him a month of barely anything for him to find something of note. I’d narrowed down the rough coordinates of where the old Hydra lab should be soon after. It was nice to have something tangible to focus on, something that didn’t revolve around my friends currently being imprisoned, considered fugitives, or at odds with me. I’d thrown myself into research, using all of my energy and brain power to find the elusive lab, leaving little room for my mind to drift to other endeavors. However, keeping my thoughts from straying toward all of the things I was avoiding was easier said than done.

I pulled the map from my bag, rolling it out to ensure I was still following the correct path. According to my map and coordinates the base should be here somewhere, though, I’d been walking for hours, and the trees were all beginning to look the same to me. After walking for another 5 minutes and passing the same half-collapsed tree that I was sure I’d seen already, I paused. An exasperated sigh fell from my lips as I gripped the map tighter, studying it closely as if the answer would suddenly appear to me. Eventually, I jammed the map back into my bag, grabbed onto the sturdiest-looking tree I could see, and began to climb, hoping the higher ground would allow me to see my surroundings better. There looked to be a clearing up ahead but there was no sign of any kind of building. I decided it was probably my best bet since it was the only clearing, I’d spotted that was big enough to house the Hydra base. In my frustrated haste to get back down the tree I wasn’t paying enough attention to where I was putting my foot and by the time I heard the crackle and snap it was too late, I reached around frantically for anything I could grab onto, but the leaves slipped through my fingers, and I continued to plummet. When I could see the grassy ground beneath me, I closed my eyes tightly, but the impact never came. Instead, my body was yanked backward as my backpack caught on a branch, suspending me in the air. I let out a shaky breath before slipping one arm from the shoulder strap and reaching up to grab ahold of the branch above me. When both my arms were out, I swung my legs up to secure my body to the branch. I shimmied the bag from the tree sliding it back on when it was free and letting my legs lower until my body was straight, and I could drop to the ground beneath me.

In my mission to find a way back up to the trail I’d been on I noticed a different one that led down between the trees, not visible from where I had been originally. The new trail was largely overgrown and desecrated from what I assumed were years of not being used. I wasn’t sure whether it was intuition or desperation that pushed me to follow the track through the trees, but I was glad I did. Along the way, the trees began to dissipate and open up into more rolling hills, which at first made me think I was headed into a dead end, however, from the corner of my eye I spotted something that was out of place in the dense Balkans, concrete walls. They too were covered with overgrown shrubbery and leaves but as I closed in, I could see between the two sordid walls a large metal door. I paused when I stood before it, hand hovering in midair between my body and the strange subterranean structure. My heart was thumping so hard against my chest I could feel it reverberating through my body. Perhaps part of me suspected that I’d never actually find it, which is why now that it was at my fingertips I was paralyzed in place. I closed my eyes tightly, steeling myself and taking a single steadying breath before pushing the door open. The metal groaned as I moved it, the door had clearly not been opened in a very long time as it was taking all of my strength to jam it open enough to slip over the threshold.

The room I entered was dark and sordid, dark spots of water damage covered the ceilings and rotted away the inside of the building. The shrubbery had invaded, sprouts of weeds and various greenery grew along the walls and between the cracks that lined the concrete floor. It was quiet inside save for the quiet woosh of wind outside and the steady drip of water from broken pipes. As I wandered further, I found it to be completely abandoned, each room was empty and indistinguishable from each other after years without maintenance. In the center of the largest room, I found what appeared to be a rusty furnace, I opened the door to find a pile of ash and debris topped by a few stray pieces of paper. They were all mostly destroyed and completely illegible now.  Looking around the room once more I quickly realized there had obviously been some kind of fire here many years ago, judging by the half-broken-down walls and thoroughly damaged structure. The more I scanned my surroundings the more hopeless I grew, throughout the building there was nothing more than vague remnants of documents, those with the most writing left were predominantly redacted sentences or ruined by exposure to the elements.

I moved back to my full height after finding yet another useless, damaged corner of a document. When I took in my surroundings then I felt an indescribable sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach accompanied by a tightness in my chest. I had always maintained that I did not want to know about my past, that none of it mattered to me anymore, I knew it was mostly just my hardheaded way of staving off any disappointment. However, now standing in this place where so much had been stolen from me, after weeks of work to even locate it, I felt a kind of bitter defeat that I’d never fully understood before. In this crumbling building I was robbed of every part of me and all of the evidence of it, any remaining clue to what had happened to me had been eviscerated. Not only that but being here had yet to spark so much as a hint of a memory.

It was all for nothing.

My pity party was cut short when I heard the crunch of a branch behind me. I whirled around swiftly, immediately prepared for a fight. The man who stood before me was perhaps the last person I would’ve ever imagined seeing, I took pause as I studied him. He appeared nonchalant, unconcerned by how evidently on edge I was. A satchel was strapped across his body, his hand laid over the opening.

“Find what you were looking for, Nadia?”

It occurred to me then that I didn’t even know his name. I’d only ever known him as the Doctor hired by Ross to Psychoanalyze the Winter Soldier.

“What are you following me now? You have a lot of nerve showing your face, I’ll give you that.” I spoke, pausing momentarily to survey the area, searching for potential traps he may have set. “I am not like Barnes; you cannot control me with your special words,” I muttered.

A small smile appeared on his face, and he nodded slowly at me. “Yes, I know that.” His calmness was making me uneasy. “But I did not need to control you for what I had planned. No, I didn’t even really need to try to make you suffer at all, you did that all on your own, of course, the lies and betrayal from your loved ones certainly helped. It wasn’t exactly a tall order. Although, it did take a lot of searching to find even a shred of information on you, Subject 114.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, eyebrows drawn together, tension shooting through my muscles. His words had me instantly thinking back to that day months ago now, when I’d stood in the compound opening a package that unraveled just how Pietro had deceived me from the moment we met. The note scribbled atop the box flashed through my mind. If only you knew. “Who the hell are you?”

“My name is Helmut Zemo; I was born in 1978, and I am a baron. Well, was, I suppose…” He laughed dryly, not an ounce of humor embedded in the sound and his eyes were almost stoic. However, behind them, I could see something else, an exhaustion I recognized. “My family were royalty, that is, until your friends tore our country to shreds.” The tension in my shoulders did not lessen, though they dipped ever so slightly at his words, my entire body seemed to sag slightly with the weight of them. He did not need to continue; his name, the way he spoke, that look in his eyes; I knew. “My home was destroyed, my family-” The way his words cut off spoke to an immense pain that he tried quickly to cover, seeming almost frustrated at himself for letting it slip.

For a while, neither of us spoke. I suspected he was awaiting my rebuttal, my anger, though I wasn’t sure I had it in me right now. “You did all of this.” I put together aloud. “You sent me that package, framed Barnes, activated the Winter Soldier… as revenge.”

“Finally, you’ve come to the party.” He spoke, it seemed as though his intention was to taunt though his tone had lost a lot of its bite. I only nodded, my shoulders dropping fully, the tension fading from me entirely. It was Zemo’s turn to narrow his eyes. “Aren’t you going to try to punish me, take your anger out on the man behind the curtain. I helped destroy the Avengers, many of your friends are being held prisoner and you don’t want to hold me accountable.”

I swallowed heavily, looking down at the tattered pages that were still clutched in my hand. “No.” I murmured. “You only told me the truth. The whole framing the Winter Soldier thing was a real pain in my ass but… I am sorry for what happened to your home and to you family, for your loss… so, I suppose, I understand why you did it.” There was a lump in my throat that made it almost impossible to speak and that stinging in my eyes was back yet again. “If it’s some consolation, I lost something too, though, I don’t really remember what it was so I guess I can’t fully understand your grief.”

He hummed. “Yes, I know all about you Nadia Morozova. Raised in the Red Room, all of your memories taken from you. Always so close to remembering but never quite there. It must be maddening, truly.” I wondered if his words were meant to wound me, maybe they had. I wasn’t sure that feeling was not chief amongst the pains of the day. It was when he spoke again that I found myself bewildered all over again. “So, I figure you’ve suffered enough.”

“So, what, we’re even?”

He shook his head. “No.” From within his satchel, he produced a bundle of various items tied together and swung it toward me causing it to land by my feet. “Now we’re even.”

I bristled slightly, narrowing my eyes at him, not making any moves toward his offering. “I don’t think I want any more of your gifts.”

“Believe me, you’ll want this one.”

After a few more moments of our silent standoff, I crouched down to take a closer look at the bundle, keeping my guard up toward Zemo. Atop two extremely thick A4 manilla folders there was a small red book with a star in the middle. Hydra, I suspected. I untied the string that bound the pile, flipping the notebook open to find handwritten notes. The pages were dated in the top corner, the first one read the 24th of July 1994.

‘Subject 114 is coherent and has shown no physical signs of rejection to the treatments she has undergone. Her perception and recollection have remained sound and intact, indicating that treatments need to be amended.’

I closed the book quickly. They were the logs kept by Hydra while they’d been conditioning me. Who knows what was in here, this could be the key to unlocking more of my past. I looked up at Zemo.

“Why would you give this to me?”

He didn’t answer right away, as if gathering his thoughts. “There was a girl… in Sokovia, there was a little girl named Mira.”

I recalled her the moment he spoke her name. Her big blue eyes filled with fear when she couldn’t find her mama. “Yes, I remember her.”

“Mira is my niece. Her father, my brother was killed in the wreckage, she is my only living blood relative now. You saved her life. That counts for something to me.”  He turned to leave then, and I moved to stand upright once more, bringing the folders and notebook with me.

“I am sorry for what you lost.”

He stopped in his tracks, tilting his head back in my direction just slightly. “You’ve already said that.”

“I meant it, but Mira is not the only life that was saved that day. I know maybe that doesn’t count to you because they were not your family. But we did save a lot of people, it is devastating that it ended the way it did and that so many people lost their lives and their loved ones but the people that were saved have to count for something.”  He didn’t respond or turn but he also didn’t leave. “Wanting revenge is justified but what you did got an innocent man killed, his son held him and had to watch as he died. So, where do you draw the line between what’s a necessary evil and just plain cruelty? Does what happened in Vienna really make you feel better? Does it lessen the pain of your loss to make another person feel it instead?”

He glanced, very briefly, over his shoulder at me. “So, the assassin does have a heart after all.” Then he paused momentarily, looking down at his feet. “Nothing will ever lessen the pain I feel.”

Those words echoed in my mind the entire trip back to the safe house. My bag was heavy with the notebook and folders I’d placed within. I couldn’t believe that Zemo had given me them, it was unfathomable. The thought that all of those years that were mostly lost to me had been recorded by someone else, that I now had access to at least one perspective of that time, was almost surreal. It was all I could think about as I boarded the train back to Vienna.

Rick had moved me to Europe about a week ago now, it had been the plan from early on but when I’d first left the States the house in the Bahamas was the only one, he had available. I was meant to be moving to the place in Budapest where Natasha and I had stayed years ago when on assignment there, but it was occupied leaving me with Vienna. It was a little ironic to me that I’d be hiding out in the place where this all started. Rick had joked that maybe the best place to be was right under Ross’s nose because he’d never suspect it.

…

The apartment was quiet when I closed the door behind me, save for the creak of floorboards above my head and the hum of music from across the hall. On the small table beside the door lay two blank white envelopes, neither of which had stamps or return addresses. Atop them was a yellow post-it note that read ‘You’ve got mail.’ Rick had mentioned something to me about it when we’d last spoken, though, admittedly it hadn’t been at the forefront of my concerns at the time especially since I was presuming it was likely just more forged documentation that he’d procured for me. I brought both envelopes into the kitchen with me as I filled up the teapot and placed it onto one of the burners on the stove. I had every intention of opening them, however, as I dropped them down onto the counter beside my bag my attention was drawn back to the items given to me by Zemo. I abandoned the envelopes, as I pulled the book and manila folders out. I had spent most of my trip back reading over the logbook but the majority of it was largely useful to me. It did reaffirm some of the aspects of my conditioning that I already suspected or partially remembered, for example, the author spoke of monitoring my brain waves whilst playing the ballet on a continuous loop, they used Giselle as a tool, the science behind it hadn’t been fully explained but that is what my memories had been wiped with I supposed. It didn’t really make sense to me, but I chose to put a pin in it, hoping that the more I read the clearer it would become. So, for the remainder of the night I sat at the small kitchen counter and read every entry with complete focus. It was when I was numerous coffees deep and my eyes were still drooping uncontrollably, I found something new, something I’d almost missed in my exhaustion.

‘Subject 114 is beginning to respond to treatments and should soon be ready to be reinstated in the Red Room.’

I paused, checking the date of this entry again. After a moment of hesitation, I flipped back to the previous entry which was dated 10^th of August 1994, but the next entry is dated the 23^rd of May 1999. I would have been almost 10 years old then, I was already in the Red Room. My mind was reeling as I flipped back through the previous entry, now more awake than ever.

‘Meetings with General Dreykov have been positive, subject has been re-tested for genetic potential and has exceeded expectations. We expect the transfer to take place by the end of June, assuming all upcoming treatments are successful. Subject consistently responds to ‘Nadia’ and partially accepts assigned identity as her own, however, we have observed some stubbornness in accepting other assigned identity attributes, such as familial status. When asked about her family subject will occasionally refuse to answer or revert back. An experimental dose of InfiltraX will be administered this evening. We hypothesize that this measure will finalize our efforts and complete Subject 114’s cognitive reset. If it proves effective, the serum will be manufactured on a larger scale for General Dreykov’s use.’

I closed the notebook, hand pressed firmly against the cover as if it could reopen of its own volition.

InfiltraX.

The word echoed through my mind, where had I heard that before? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I was sure it sounded familiar. Using a pen, I’d found in one of the kitchen drawers I circled the word, deciding to put a pin in it for now and revisit it when I was less exhausted.

In the morning I found myself sitting in a café, sipping smooth coffee whilst flipping through the manilla folder. At the front was my S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel file and some various documents relating to it and then there were mission debriefs from my time as an agent. After a copious amount of uninteresting paperwork, I saw a familiar logo adorning the corner of a page, it appeared hand-drawn in black ink, a symbol of another life. A small, penned hourglass. I scanned the page to find another personnel file, although this time there were a lot more redacted lines.

Name: Nadia Morozova
DOB: 7^th November 1989
Classification: REDACTED
Family: unknown (presumed deceased)

Just like my S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel file. I skimmed the rest of the page, uninterested in the details of my training as none of it filled in any gaps of knowledge. I paused when I flipped the page, a different symbol was drawn in the corner now, yet it was just as recognizable to me. The tentacled skull that haunted me. The document appeared to be another dossier, however, it was set out completely differently from the other two, less formal, as though this was never meant to be kept on the record. This did not include my name, in its place was ‘Subject 114’ followed by a whole lot of redacted lines. After a moment of studying the blacked-out lines on the page, I returned to my S.H.I.E.L.D. file.

Family: unknown (presumed deceased)

I flipped back to the current page. The family section was fully redacted in this document. I stared at it for a long while, confused as to why they would redact that line. It seemed as though this was never meant to see the light of day or at least not meant to be seen by anyone who wasn’t Hydra so this level of secrecy seemed unnecessary, especially if it only said unknown as the other files had. The only plausible reason for them to black out that section was if it said something else, if it would reveal something that they were trying to hide; or erase.

The next page had an envelope paper clipped to it, within it was a dozen or so pictures. It quickly became evident that they were of me at different ages, and in the corner of each was a date. The last image was dated June 1^st, 1994, it was tattered and hard to make out as time had clearly not been kind to it. However, the features I could make out were startling, I knew it was me, despite the fact that the little girl in the image had much darker hair, and when I looked closely it even appeared that she had brown eyes, for some reason I just knew. My hands were shaking slightly as I placed the picture back down on the page, unable to tear my eyes away even as I pulled the small red book from my bag. I flipped quickly through the pages searching for one with a matching date, the logbook seemed to skip days and, sometimes even weeks. I assumed perhaps only significant days were recorded. The 1^st of June was not included however the next closest date was the 10^th, I abruptly stopped my searching, opening the book wider to scan the page.

‘Estimated 12 courses of InfiltraX have been administered to Subject 114 at varying doses to test for degree of effectiveness and bodily response. A 30mg dosage was administered on the 7^th of June producing seizures and approximately 24 hours of paralysis in the subject. On hour 22, we observed the following genetic mutations:

Hair bleaching and brown eyes became blue

After further experimentation, 15mg appears to be the most successful dosage for maintenance without affecting genes or physicality.’

The thoughts sat with me the rest of the day; I was unable to pull my mind from it. The old, partially destroyed photograph of a child who looked worlds apart from me was heavy on my mind. It terrified me to think that something so significant had happened without me even knowing, something that I could not even remember. Although, I supposed me not remembering wasn’t exactly new. The fact that I’d been paralyzed for 24 hours wasn’t lost on me either.

My body sunk into the uncomfortable couch in the makeshift living room that doubled as an entryway. They were experimenting on me, Hydra kept me for all those months before sending me to the Red Room to test their serums on me. I recalled being injected with something as a teenager, all of us were, Dreykov said it would make us stronger and maybe it did. I couldn’t quite recall now. What I did remember was the feeling that had filled my body after, or I suppose lack of feeling was more accurate, there was no pain, no happiness, only red.

My eyes fell over the envelopes that I’d at some point transferred to the small table beside the couch. I suppose I’d hoped for a momentary distraction. Whatever the reason was, I grabbed them and tore the first open, inside was a neatly folded piece of paper with a short note inside.

It appears as though shit might have hit the fan. You really must get better at keeping me updated on your life.

I’m not sure what happened between you and that boy of yours, but he wanted you to have this so badly he chased me halfway across the world thinking I’d know where you are.

If you do have the shits with him don’t shoot the messenger, you know I’ve always been rooting for you two.

If you need anything you know how to reach me. Take care of yourself, my darling.

- A

I held the letter so tightly it creased between my fingertips. How Anna had found Rick I was utterly unsure but in that moment, it was the furthest though from my mind. I swiftly tore into the second envelope, pulling the paper from within and unfurling it to find a messily penned letter complete with a multitude of ink stains.

Nadia,

I’m not really sure how to begin this… or end it or even what to say at all.

A loud knock echoed through the room, pulling my attention away from the letter in my hands. I glanced up at the door momentarily, before looking back down. Just as I decided that whoever was there could wait another knock sounded. I closed my eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before putting the letter aside and approaching the door.

I peeked through the small hole in the center to find no one on the other side, prompting me to yank it open and poke my head out, finding no one in the hallway either. I was about to close the door when a small package on the ground caught my attention. A brown paper bag like one they’d give you in a bakery sat at my feet. With extreme caution and no small amount of hesitation, I picked up the bag, slowly opening it to look within. I knew what it was the moment I saw it, though I hadn’t seen one in years. Tippaleipä, a traditional Finnish dessert that I had only ever spoken about to one person. It seemed paranoid even to me to suspect anything of it, though when I took a closer look within the bag, I didn’t feel like I was overreacting in the slightest.

Beneath the Tippaleipä, on the napkin alongside the name of a bakery was a hand drawn symbol. One that I was very sick of seeing. The same little hourglass that had been penned on the corner of my personnel files, the symbol of my past.

A message that I couldn’t ignore.

Chapter Text

The tip of my finger traced along the wall as I wandered down the empty hallway. Chatter echoed from downstairs, the gentle hum of classical music intertwining with the sound. On the wall across from the banister sat an array of framed pictures, the smiling face of a young boy filled one of the frames, the other showed him sitting in front of a man and a woman. I looked at the picture for a long while; confusion seeping into my every muscle. Where was I? The answer evaded me as I looked around the room. Laughter chorused downstairs, reminding me that there was a party going on beneath my feet. I furrowed my eyebrows, but then I looked down at my hands that were covered in crimson. The man from the pictures... I glanced back toward the closed door further down the hallway, blood marking the handle. My gaze moved back to the family portraits hanging before me. It felt as though my whole body sunk; I remembered now.

I felt frozen to the ground, my limbs were a deadweight and there was a lump in my throat that I couldn’t manage to swallow. I looked back down at my hands. My feet moved without me realizing it, bringing me a step or two closer to the room I’d just left. Suddenly, another person emerged through the door, a head of blonde hair pulled back into two braids appeared.

Yelena.

My head was starting to hurt now, without thinking I pressed my fingertips to my temples, leaving red along my face. I closed my eyes tightly. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She pulled my hands away from my face to inspect the mess. I shook my head in an attempt to lessen the growing ache. Red flickered across my vision before speckling away. She pressed a hand to my shoulder, shoving me into the small washroom across the hall. With gloved hands, she turned the faucet on and pulled my own underneath, quickly scrubbing the evidence from me. When my hands were no longer covered in blood, she used a damp cloth to dab the remnants from my face. “Nadia.” She repeated for what might have been the 3^rd time. “What are you doing? We need to leave, now!” I didn’t respond as she pulled me by my arm. When we were out of the house, stumbling through the expanse of trees behind it, I stopped, pulling my arm away from her. “Nadia?!”

“He asked me to stop…” I muttered, my voice barely audible.

Yelena’s eyes narrowed as she assessed me. “What are you talking about?”

“He cried.” The lump in my throat only grew larger, the ache in my head worsened. “He asked me to stop.” I repeated.

“Yes, I was there.” She shrugged at me, glancing around in search of the words. “He’s not the first to cry, why is it distressing to you now?”

The red flickered across my eyes again, for the first time in years it didn’t bathe everything in its nefarious glow. I blinked, confused by the words I was speaking. “He begged me to spare him… and I-I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop.” I recalled the way my hands had moved, how fluid they were, how easy the movements had been, like breathing. He’d pleaded with me over and over again, I had heard him, but my hands kept moving, I hadn’t been in control. The air was coming faster than I could swallow it, the moment of clarity that engulfed me was paralyzing. She took ahold of my hands then, pulling me further into the trees.                  

“Nadia, that was the mission, why would you have stopped just because he asked you to. You completed the mission, it’s done.”

She looked at me right in the eyes and underneath the icy indifference I saw a hint of distress and something almost gentle in her gaze. Yelena squeezed my hands tightly, opening and closing her mouth before saying. “I don’t understand why you’re upset.”

And then the moment ended; the red returned just as quickly as it left, and then I didn’t understand either.

I turned the key to the motorcycle, silencing the engine, allowing the thumping of my heart to fill my ears instead. The building that sat before me was mostly unassuming, worn down with age and corroded by weather. When I slipped from the bike, I adjusted the leather gloves that covered my hands, electing to leave my helmet on as I approached the apartment complex. The hallways were sordid, even more so than the outside of the building. Little sound filled the space, save for the quiet hum of chatter and televisions filtering through the doors I passed. Yet, the sound of my footsteps was thunderous to my ears. I stopped before the door that was at the very end of the hallway, pausing momentarily to glance over my shoulder, ensuring there was no one loitering in the hall. When I found it empty, I pulled the helmet from my head, placing it silently by the door and moving to crouch beside it at eye level with the lock. I checked the hallway a final time before sliding the two metallic tools from my back pocket and slotting them into the door. With practiced precision, I manipulated the lock until I heard the telltale clicking sound.

“I know you are there.”

The first sound of her voice had my heart picking up all over again, a white-hot searing feeling filled my gut as I stared hard at the wooden door before me, as if I could see her on the other side.

“Yes. I know that you know.”

She scoffed. “So, why are you out there sneaking around.”

I pushed the door open to find the entryway completely empty. My movements were quick and nimble, I was silent on my feet; moving with the shadows as I slipped into the apartment. “Because I do not know who you will be.”

“Well, now I’m just hurt. Come on Nadia, I know you have a fancy new life now, but we used to be friends, remember?”

I swallowed heavily. “Of course, I know it is you, Yelena.” I slid the gun from the back of my jeans, holding it tightly between my hands. “What I don’t know, is which you it will be.” I slipped around the wall quickly, scanning the living room to find it also empty. Perhaps it was the way the air in the room shifted that gave her away or the aged floorboards beneath our feet. “Maybe it is you who does not remember me. You still think you can sneak up on me?” I turned swiftly, catching her by the wrist before she could strike and forcing her arm to slam back into the wall, so she’d lose her grip on the small push knife in her hand. She groaned in frustration as it clattered to the ground, stomping on my foot so that she could maneuver out of my hold. She punched me hard in the stomach causing me to double over but I was quick to retaliate, ducking under the next hit she threw and slamming the base of my gun into the side. Just before I cleared her, she caught my arm, pulling me back to grab me from behind and causing me to drop my gun in the scuffle. I immediately dropped my center of gravity and flipped her over my head, sending her tumbling through the glass door separating the kitchen from the living area. She was back in my space within a second, shoving me hard in the shoulders, I slapped her hands away, narrowing my eyes. “Stop it.” I snapped but she ignored my words.

In a split second, Yelena grabbed the back of my head and pulled it down, driving her knee up in a controlled motion toward my stomach. I twisted to the side, catching her knee before it connected, then swept my leg toward her standing foot in retaliation.

She hopped over the sweep, but that allowed me to close the gap and grab her wrist in an attempt to pull her into a wrist lock. She reacted instantly, rotated her wrist upward, to break my grip, then used her free hand to grasp my shoulder and slam me backward on top of the counter, creating a large dent in the cupboards and even snapping one of the doors off its hinges. I gritted my teeth to stave of the wince of pain and kicked her away from me, sliding down from the bench and trapping her arm when she attempted to strike me once more. Our movements were fluent, almost graceful, two forces who somehow still knew each other’s rhythm like a familiar dance, even after all this time.

For a moment, we struggled, locked in a grapple, both of us huffing with utter irritation. “Stop fucking fighting me!” I groaned. “Yelena.” I added, a little quieter, looking her right in the eyes. She looked the same, maybe a little older but still the way I remember. She hesitated for a moment, holding my gaze, her lips downturned. I searched her eyes for something, anything that held feeling. Anything that could show me she was actually Yelena and not an unfeeling soldier. It was in the way her eyebrows furrowed slightly and the green of her eyes darkened that I found my proof. There, in that very familiar gaze, the one that had haunted me for years, I saw pain, some anger that had always been there, and what I thought might have been betrayal. The thought made me very aware of the sickening feeling that had been blooming in my stomach the whole way here.

It was like that split second never even happened as she turned her head and bit me on the arm so hard that I was sure she’d drawn blood. The sting had me reeling back and gave her time to bring her free hand up into an open palm strike toward my face. I dodged smoothly, but the movement caused me to lose my grip. She immediately followed with a low, sweeping kick aimed at my shin. This time, she connected, and I staggered.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Yelena mocked, stepping back with a smug look. “Did that sting?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fuck you.”

She came at me again, this time using a combination of quick punches—one aimed at my torso, then a low kick at my leg, followed by an elbow strike toward my head. I blocked the punch with my forearm, sidestepped the kick, and brought both arms up to shield against the elbow strike. “You’re so fucking annoying.” She muttered.

“You’ve gotten shitter at this,” I taunted, irked by her continual attacks. I used her momentum against her, stepping into Yelena and grabbing her elbow to twist it around behind her back, forcing her to bend forward. She pushed herself to stand at full height before throwing her head backward to headbutt me, the force caused me to see nothing but white momentarily. The distraction was long enough for her to tackle me around the waist, knocking the wind out of me as my back hit the wall. She attempted to punch me again, but I caught her arm and mirrored the open palm strike she’d tried to hit me with before. Evading that attack cost her the balance she’d previously had, allowing me to throw her off of me.

Before I could move to my feet, she struck me, hard. I fell onto my backside, making a noise of irritation before swiftly moving my body and swinging my legs to wrap them around her. The chokehold I restrained her with felt like second nature. “I don’t want to fucking fight you, Yelena.”

“That’s too bad.” She managed to get out, swinging her arm around to lock her fingers around my ponytail and yank it forward, a sharp pain shooting through my scalp.

“What are you 12-years old?” She only pulled harder. “Let go!”

She pulled yet again. “You’ve become a pathetic, goody-two-shoes avenger and you really think I’d cede to you?”

I huffed again, reaching behind me to grasp the fabric of the curtain, pulling hard until it tore from the rod and then I wrapped it around her neck. I’d admit maybe that was childish of me, but she had started it. She grasped at the fabric, though one hand remained grasping my hair fervently. Somehow, she managed to slip from under my arm, twisting to face me and pull me in closer, wrapping the extra side of the curtain around my neck. I pulled the curtain tighter, restricting her airflow further and trying to distance myself but she had an unbreakable grip on it. “Перемирие?” Truce? I muttered when I became lightheaded. Another few moments and a little more tightening of the fabric had her hand finally yielding, followed by air filling my lungs once more, prompting me to immediately let go of the fabric and of her. Both of us fell to our backs beside each other, tired and breathing a little unevenly.

“Why’d you even send me that fucking cake if all you wanted was to beat the shit out of me?”

Yelena looked over at me then. “You really have no idea what’s been going on, do you?”

A new voice entering the room had my head whipping around. “Why am I not surprised that you two are already fighting?” In the doorway to the apartment, leaning casually against the doorframe was Natasha.

“What is going on?” I asked, sitting up and looking back over at the blonde woman next to me.

She stood with an exasperated sigh. “I wasn’t expecting either of you to actually show up. I thought you’d go to each other and sort this all out amongst yourselves.” Yelena spoke as she began to walk off down the hallway. I grabbed the gun I’d dropped earlier, stowing it in the back of my pants.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Natasha and I both followed her into the bedroom she entered. “I’m not here trying to be your friend, but you need to tell me what that is.” Nat held up a roll of glowing red vials.

“It’s a synthetic gas. The counteragent to chemical subjugation. The gas immunizes the brain’s neuropathways from external manipulation.”

My eyes narrowed at that. A counteragent to chemical conditioning? “Maybe in English next time?”

“Это противоядие от контроля над разумом.” It’s an antidote to mind control.

I swallowed heavily, considering what I’d read in the logbook that Zemo had given to me.

Natasha huffed. “Real mature.”

“Why don’t you guys take it to one of your super-scientist friends? They can explain it to you. Tony Stark, maybe?”

I snorted, moving past the two women to scan the clothes on the rack, hoping to find something to change into. “We’re not exactly sympatico right now, so…”

“Great. Perfect timing.” Yelena spoke sarcastically. “Where’s an Avenger when you need one?”

Natasha’s head whipped around at that. “I don’t wanna be here and I’m guessing Nadia doesn’t either. We’re on the run. You could’ve gotten us killed.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do? You’re the only superhero people that I know. That was the whole reason I sent it to you.” She looked at me then. “I only sent you the Tippaleipä because I thought it’d get your attention, not make you come here. I kept checking the news, expecting to see Captain America bringing down the Red Room.”

I immediately looked at Natasha when those words registered. It suddenly felt like my head was underwater, physically I was there but my mind was a million miles away.

“What? Taking down the Red Room? What are you talking about? It’s been gone for years. Dreykov’s dead. I killed him.”

Yelena left the room, heading back toward the kitchen. “You don’t actually believe that do you?” I trailed behind Natasha, hanging off of every word that was spoken.  

“Dreykov’s dead. It took almost destroying the entire city just to get to him.”

We stopped at the island bench, and I picked up one of the glowing vials, investigating it cautiously. “If you’re so sure, then tell me what happened. Tell me exactly.” Yelena added.

“Clint Barton and I rigged bombs. Killing Dreykov was the final step in my defection to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Yelena’s eyebrows rose. “Simple as that?”

“Yeah, sure, ‘simple.’ That’s what I’d call imploding a five-story building and then shooting it out with the Hungarian Special Forces. Took 10 days in hiding before we could even get out of Budapest.”

“And you checked the body? Confirmed the kill?” It was my voice that filled the room before I’d even had the chance to fully understand what I was asking.

Nat met my eyes then. “There was no body left to check.”

“You’re forgetting Dreykov’s daughter.”

Natasha’s face shifted and I opened my mouth to speak but before I could there were loud footsteps over the ceiling in the living room, followed by an explosion and the ceiling crumbling down to the floor. Without hesitation, I grabbed the red samples and slammed Yelena back against the wall to avoid the impending gunfire. Before we could move the front door was kicked in and two more lasers entered the apartment. The three of us slipped from the kitchen quickly, but not before Yelena could trigger the bombs that were evidently rigged throughout. The distraction allowed us to escape after a minor scuffle with the two widows that had entered through the front. Gunfire echoed around us as we ran down the corridors, there were multiple other Widows stationed around the building, all intent on taking us out.

“I’m really enjoying Budapest so far.” I retorted sarcastically. “Where are we trying to get to?”

“Motorbike, east side of the building,” Yelena called back to me.

I veered off toward a window, prompting the other two to follow me out onto the rooftops so we could cut across the building faster. From my peripheral vision I could see one of the Widows right on our tail. All three of us grabbed onto a thick pipe, pulling the bolt and kicking off the side of the roof to make it fall. The girl leaped from the roof to grab hold of the structure but caught me instead causing me to lose my grip and for both of us to fall. I heard Natasha shout my name, but I was already falling through the air. By some stroke of luck, I found purchase on the side of one of the buildings, my other arm flung out to catch the Widow mid-air. When I caught her wrist I tightened my grip on the building, attempting to help her up but she unsheathed a knife and swung toward me. As frantically as I tried to hold on, the momentum of her movement caused her to slip through my fingers.

“No!” I shouted, watching her fall toward the damp ground multiple stories beneath us. When I finally managed to climb down Natasha was close behind, stopping on the other side of the injured girl. I put both of my hands up as the widow glared at me. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just let me help.” The pulled beneath my feet rippled as I took a few steps closer. Pain was written across her face as she lifted her arm to aim at me, the ring of red surrounding her wrist lighting up. I braced to feel the shock of the Widow’s byte, but it never came.

“I don’t want to do this.” She cried, her arm beginning to falter.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You don’t have to do anything… What are you doing?”

Her arm turned inward, fist now moving toward her own face. “He’s making me.”

Before I could get another word out the shot echoed through my ears and her body fell limp against the ground. I froze in place, unable to think straight as I stared down at the young girl. I knelt down beside her; she looked younger than me. Half of her face was charred black from the force of the shock, her eyes were still open, gazing lifelessly at me.

“Believe me now?” Yelena’s voice barely registered in my ears as I continued staring down at the girl.

It was Natasha who spoke next. “How many others are there?”

“Enough.”

I let my fingertips move gently over the girl’s eyelids, pushing them closed and letting my hand linger for a moment. My stomach churned, my head spinning at the implications. It wasn’t over, it had never been over. Obolensky’s words echoed in my head then.

“The next batch of girls.”

He’d told me right to my face, smug about the fact that after all these years Dreykov was still here. The figure that plagued my nightmares still lurked in the darkness, stealing other girls’ lives just as he’d stolen mine. It had been right in front of me and yet I’d just let it go, chosen to believe it was over. How selfish I’d been to allow myself this blissful ignorance.

It wasn’t until Natasha’s hand pressed over my shoulder, her voice urging me to hurry up that I fully came to. My body became fluid again as I stood and followed her and Yelena out toward the bikes.

“I’ve got my own,” I muttered, quickly jumping on and skidding down the alley, both women hot on my tail, followed by a large war truck that pummeled through the other motorbike and anything else in its path.

I fell back behind Nat and Yelena, swerving to drive beside the widow who was trailing us on another bike. She revved her engine, tilting her head toward me momentarily before looking straight ahead. The wind whipped around me as I kicked out at her. She swerved to avoid me before turning hastily back toward me to ram me with the side of her bike. I used the proximity to my advantage, knocking her kickstand down before veering away quickly. Sparks flickered up from the road as the metal dragged along it, throwing off the bike’s balance and causing it to spin out and throw the girl from the seat onto the hood of a passing car that quickly halted. A glance over my shoulder reassured me that the girl was okay as she slowly stood back up. I could see Natasha signaling me from further up the road as her and Yelena approached a parked car.

“Seriously?” I asked as Yelena pulled a gun on the driver, prompting him to swiftly move out of the seat and away from us.

“You can’t just steal a guy’s car,” Natasha added.

Yelena shrugged. “So, you want me to chase him down and un-steal it?” she retorted as we climbed into the car, Nat in the driver’s seat. She put the car into gear swiftly, moving to reverse out of the awkward parking situation we were in. When she adjusted the rearview mirror, I saw another widow quickly approaching from behind. “Okay. Any time now, please.”

“Shut up,” Nat grunted, flooring it down the road to evade the gunfire raining down from the persistent war machine behind us.

I muttered a string of Russian curses, sliding down in the seat as the back window shattered. Yelena did the same in the passenger seat. “Okay, you got a plan, or shall I just stay duck-and-cover?”

“Yeah, my plan was to drive us away.”

“I’m not going to lie; that’s a shit plan.” I retorted, pulling the gun from the back of my jeans and moving to kneel on the seat, using the headrests for balance as I aimed toward the tires of the motorbike. The car swerved aggressively to the right causing me to slam into the door and fall back on the seat. Yelena threw her door open, causing it to be ripped off after colliding with a pole. The hunk of metal skidded down the road, swiftly taking out the final girl on the bike who glared after us. “Really? You couldn’t have let me handle that?” I groaned, sitting upright again.

“You’re welcome.” The blonde woman spoke, glaring over her shoulder at me before catching sight of something behind us. “Ah, shit, he’s back.” She nodded toward the tank once again encroaching on us. It destroyed every car on the road that stood between us and from the top rose a suited figure that pulled out a bow and glowing red arrow to aim at us.

“Put your seatbelts on,” Nat spoke firmly, no room for argument in her tone.

Yelena and I both complied but not without first taunting her about her motherly tone. The light-hearted atmosphere was short-lived however, as an explosion sounded from beneath us just before the car was thrown skyward, flipping over and then crashing back down to the earth. My body was thrown back and forth, whiplash slicing through my shoulders as I was slammed back into the seat again and again while the car ping-ponged between other vehicles and infrastructure. When the movement finally ceased my head was pounding and it took me several long moments to realize that I was upside down. I clicked the release on my seatbelt, falling to the ceiling that was covered in shattered glass. Natasha pulled me out through the broken window, both of us reaching back in to help a bleeding Yelena out. She immediately began trying to tie a tourniquet around her arm to tamp the blood flow, but Natasha stopped her. “Not yet, trust me.”

A glance back showed the masked man descending the stairs into the subway behind us. Without a second thought, he began running through the crowds of people, jumping up onto the center of the escalator and sliding down it. I pushed both women ahead of me down, causing the three of us to tumble off of the belt, narrowly avoiding the shield that went soaring through the air toward our heads. I helped Yelena up again and we both followed after Nat further into the train station. Climbing up into the air shaft that the red-headed woman opened for us. I watched as the man in the suit wandered toward his shield, before diverting courses, following the trail of Yelena’s blood and the handprint that had been left on top of the grate when we fell from the escalator. He ripped the metal grate up, jumping into the tunnel revealed by it.

Natasha glanced at Yelena briefly, asking her if she was okay.

“Yeah. Great plan. I love the part where I almost bled to death.” She responded, securing some fabric around her arm to stop the steady flow of blood.

“This is cozy,” I murmured, leaning back against the metal behind me.

“Barton and I spent two days hiding out up here.”

It was Yelena who responded to that, surveying the close quarters. “That must have been fun.”

I ignored that retort, staring out at the open tunnel when the suited man disappeared. “Who the hell is that guy?

“Dreykov’s special project. He can mimic anyone he’s ever seen. It’s like fighting a mirror. Dreykov only deploys him for top-priority missions.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Natasha said.

“Well, the truth rarely makes sense when you omit key details.”

I looked toward the redhead that Yelena was now glaring at. Feeling as though I was missing some crucial part of this argument. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“She didn’t say one word about Dreykov’s daughter,” Yelena spoke before addressing Natasha. “You killed her.”

“I had to. I needed her to lead me to Dreykov.” Natasha looked away then. “His daughter was collateral damage. I needed her to be sure.”

“And here you are, not so sure.”

A heavy sigh fell from Nat’s lips. “I needed out.”

That much I understood completely. The Red Room changes your perception of right and wrong. It all gets so muddy after a while that it seems like any means can be justified by any cause. I looked at the blonde woman who’d barely met my eyes since I’d first seen her again. She was my friend, had been since the beginning. Yet, in the end, when freedom was looking me dead in the eyes, I left her behind.

Any means.

The sun was setting by the time the three of us made it out of the city. The afternoon turned the sky a dusky orange color that was almost beautiful enough to distract from the ache in my muscles.

“So, the Red Room is still active… Where is it?” I looked at Yelena as I spoke.

She shrugged, holding open the door to the small convenience store we were standing in front of. “I have no idea. He moves location constantly. And every Widow is sedated on entry and exit for maximum security.”

“I’m just finding it hard to believe that he could stay off our radar,” Natasha added.

“Well, it’s not smart to attack an Avenger if you want to stay hidden. I mean, the clue is in the name. Dreykov kills either of you, one of the big ones comes to avenge you.”

That caused both Nat and I to take pause, glancing over at Yelena who scanned over the medicine shelf. “Wait, what are the big ones?” Nat asked.

“Well, I doubt the god from space has to take an ibuprofen after a fight.”

“It’s a good point.” I sighed, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and taking the painkillers from her hand to read the packaging.

Her next question paralyzed me. “Where did you think I was all this time?”

It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought about it, in fact, that thought had plagued me nearly constantly when I first got out. It still lived in my mind now, though, as time went on it had quietened to a small voice in the back of my head. The fact was, as terrible and cold as it sounds, when I thought the Red Room was no longer operating, I believed that Yelena had been buried along with it. I’d hoped differently; hoped that she’d found a world outside of it. I wondered if that was my assumption because it made sense, or because it was what I’d needed to believe to go on knowing that I couldn’t get her out.

“I thought that you got out and were living a normal life,” Natasha answered before I was able to think of something to say.

“And you just never made contact again?”

Nat didn’t look at her. “Honestly, I thought you didn’t wanna see me.”

Yelena scoffed at that, even to me it sounded like a cop-out. “Bullshit. You just didn’t want your baby sister to tag along, whilst you saved the world with the cool kids.”

“You weren’t really my sister.” Natasha’s words were harsh, I knew they’d hurt Yelena, just like they were just self-preserving.

I put the ibuprofen on the counter with my water, handing the man behind the counter the cash to cover it.

“And the Avengers aren’t really your family.” That word had me cracking open the bottle and throwing back some painkillers in order to stave off the splitting headache that I could feel looming over my temples. “Why do you always do that thing? The thing you do when you’re fighting. The… Like, the…” Yelena crouched down with one leg stretched and flicked her hair back over her head theatrically. “This thing that you do when you whip your hair when you’re fighting with the arm and the hair. And you do, like, a fighting pose.” I swallowed down the laughter bubbling in my throat at her very accurate depiction of Natasha. “It’s a… It’s a fighting pose. You’re a total poser.”

“I’m not a poser.” The red-head argued.

“Oh, come on. I mean, they’re great poses, but it does look like you think everyone’s looking at you, like, all the time.”

Natasha did not look amused in the slightest. “All that time that I spent posing, I was trying to actually do something good to make up for all the pain and suffering that we caused. Trying to be more than just a trained killer.”

I grabbed a magazine from the rack and flashed it to the cashier before handing him another bill, figuring I was going to need something to keep busy with if the bickering was going to continue. Natasha’s words evidently struck a chord in Yelena, it was evident in the minuscule twitch of her expression, though maybe it was so recognizable because the words caused a twinge of pain in my own heart too.

“Well, then you were fooling yourself because pain and suffering is every day, and we are all still a trained killer.” She gestured at the three of us before continuing. “Except I’m not the one that’s on the cover of a magazine. I’m not the killer that little girls call their hero.” With that, she walked past us and out of the store.

Natasha looked at me, eyes narrowed as I bit back a grin. “What, you too?”

I put my hands up defensively. “You do kind of do that. The…” I flipped my hair back and she sighed exasperatedly at me.

“Oh, shut up.”

…

The three of us sat on a picnic bench, Natasha and Yelena sitting on opposite sides while I sat at the head of the table beside them. Tensions were a little less high now that the sun had long set and night was blanketing us. I swirled the beer in my bottle, glancing at Yelena over the rim.

“That counteragent gas, it was synthesized in secret by an older widow from Melina’s generation. I was on a mission to retrieve it, and she exposed me, and I killed the widow that freed me.”

“Did you have a choice?” I closed my eyes when I heard Natasha’s tone. She didn’t understand, not fully.

Yelena’s eyes narrowed. “What you experienced was psychological conditioning. I’m talking about chemically altering brain functions. They’re two completely different things. You’re fully conscious, but you don’t know which part is you. I’m still not sure.” She looked at me then, her face was blank yet still I felt the plea behind it. Have my back.

I swallowed heavily. “It was different after you left.” My eyes found Natasha’s. “Dreykov was paranoid, concerned that you were able to defect, to disobey. He took extra measures to make sure it wouldn’t happen again.”

Natasha was silenced by this. Looking down at her hands momentarily before nodding slowly. “Is that all there is left?” She nodded toward the bag that held the red vials.

Yelena hummed, nodding. “It’s the only thing that can stop Dreykov and his network of Widows. He takes more every day. Children who don’t have anyone to protect them. Just like us when we were small. Maybe one in 20 survives the training and becomes a Widow. The rest, he kills. To him, we are just things. Weapons with no face that he can just throw away. Because there is always more. And no one’s even looking for him, thanks to Natasha and Alexei.”

“Alexei?” I asked.

Natasha and Yelena chuckled dryly. “Dad.”

Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention, I looked over to see a man drop a set of keys into a cabinet beside a black car. My eyes remained on him as my mind wandered. Stowed away in my pocket was the letter Pietro had written to me; I hadn’t made it past the first line. Couldn’t bring myself to read the rest of the words he’d had for me. Eventually, I excused myself from the conversation with Natasha and Yelena, needing a moment to myself. I leaned against the back wall of the garage, encapsulated by the inky blue-black on the night. The balmy wind whistled past me, a welcome relief as I tipped my head back and breathed deeply; a steadying breath.

I held the letter so tightly in my hands that it crinkled at the sides. My stomach churned as I stared down at it, unsure whether or not I wanted to read it. To be honest, I knew I wanted to, needed to; the truth was I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear his detestation of me all over again. The first time was more than enough. I felt nauseous at the thought. I could still picture the look on his face so clearly it was as though he was here now, disappointed in me all over again. I pressed a hand to my chest as if I could still feel the heat of Tony’s beam hitting me. With that thought I stowed the letter back in my pocket.

All eyes were on me as I rejoined the table, necking the rest of my beer and leaning back in my chair once more.

“Where are you guys gonna go?”

I shrugged, dragging my hand down my face.

Yelena was the first to answer her verbally. “I don’t know. I don’t really have anywhere to go back to, so I guess anywhere.”

Natasha gazed between the two of us, taking a sip from her drink and I immediately recognized that little sparkle in her eyes.

I shook my head. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” The redhead asked, feigning innocence.

Yelena laughed. “You’re going to give some big hero speech; I can feel it.”

“Speeches aren’t really my thing.” I bit back my smile, awaiting what I knew was coming. “It was more like an invitation.”

I sighed, sharing a look with Yelena as she responded. “To go to the Red Room and kill Dreykov?”

Nat nodded. “Yeah.”

“Even though the Red Room is impossible to find and Dreykov is too slippery to kill?”

“Yeah.”

I braced my arms over my knees, unwittingly leaning in. “That sounds like a shitload of work,” I spoke.

“Yup.” Yelena and Natasha both nodded now, the latter glancing at me again. “Could be fun, though.”

It was Yelena who responded. “Yup.”

“I saw where he put the keys.” Her eyes trailed over to me; one eyebrow rose.

“No. Do not look at me like that. You always do this; you start talking and you get me interested and then I can’t stop thinking about it. We just agreed that it is nearly impossible.” Neither woman before me so much as flinched. “Oh, for fucks sake, top drawer, green cabinet.”

Natasha and Yelena both cheered and clinked their bottles against mine as I huffed and leaned back in my seat.

This seemed like a monumentally crap idea. Although, realistically, I was on board from the moment I realized that the Red Room was still functioning.

Chapter Text

The rhythmic whipping of helicopter blades filled my ears even with the protection of the aviation headset. I could feel the vibration under my fingertips as I held onto the cyclic lever. The entire landscape before me was blanketed by crisp white snow, only broken up by the stone walls of the maximum-security prison we were steadily approaching.

Nat leaned forward to show Yelena and me the tablet screen the had a digital map of the prison. After a moment a green dot popped up on the screen indicating that the comm had been activated.

“Today’s your lucky day, Alexei,” Natasha said. “Go left. Just don’t make a scene.” She added.

Within moments shouting and all kinds of commotion cleared over the comms, making me sigh heavily. “He made a scene, didn’t he?”

“What now?” He questioned us as we saw his form emerge onto one of the bridges.

“We’re getting you out of here,” Natasha responded. A crowd followed Alexei out, more shouting filling the comms.

I tightened my grip on the lever. “Move your ass, super soldier.” The man vaulted up an exceptionally tall barricade, grabbing onto the railing that sat atop it. One of the guards met him at the top, tasing him in the neck and causing Alexei to lose his grip, tumbling back down onto the ice-covered ground.

“He’s never going to make it,” Yelena spoke, shaking her head at the rather pathetic display we’d just witnessed.

Natasha urged us to get the helicopter closer. Both Yelena and I narrowed our eyes at her. “You got a better idea?” She asked rhetorically, tapping me on the shoulder as a gesture to follow her. I groaned, putting my side on autopilot and sliding out of the seat, leaving Yelena in full control. Nat and I made quick work of attaching two ropes to the anchor above the helicopter door before grabbing ahold of one each and leaping out of the vehicle.

The moment I saw Natasha land on the bridge I bit back a laugh at the familiar position she’d found herself in. Within seconds I heard Yelena tsk. “Such a poser.”

I snorted before dropping off the rope and onto the bridge opposite Nat. I kicked the first guard who ran at me in the chest grabbing him by the vest and shoving him backward over the railing. When I spotted another approaching, I jumped up onto the metal railing, flipping over his head, and quickly kicking him in the back of the knee. When he fell, I slammed his helmeted head into the metal bars, knocking him unconscious. I grabbed the wrist of the next guard who swung his baton at me pulling it down so I could jump up and lock my legs around his upper arm, swinging myself down to flip him onto the ground. The tail of the helicopter came swinging around slicing over the top of both bridges causing me to fall onto my back to avoid being hit. I glanced over to see Natasha do the same.

“Are you serious?!” I shouted over the comms.

Yelena chuckled nervously. “Sorry.”

“What are you doing? Back up!” Nat yelled.

I saw Yelena pop her thumb up through the windscreen as she began drawing back in the helicopter. “We’re all doing a really good job.”

A huge explosion sounded behind me after Yelena launched a grenade into the lookout tower, taking out the gunman who had been sending heavy fire her way. The loud noise was followed by a rumbling and crackling noise from the top of the mountain. My eyes widened slightly as a cloud of white began to swallow the tree line. I mumbled Russian curses under my breath, whipping back around to look for Natasha.

“Tell me that’s a good sign for us!” Alexei yelled from below.

“Just move your ass,” Natasha yelled down at him.

All of the prisoners and guards quickly shifted courses rushing back within the shelter of the compound, as the avalanche grew larger, closing in on the stone walls and devouring everything in its path. I ran down the bridge, quickly climbing the railing and leaping toward the rope when it swung by. Natasha caught the other one as Yelena began pulling the helicopter higher.

“Wait!” Alexei bellowed over the comms. I looked over my shoulder to see Natasha swinging toward the bridge he was running along. My heart raced as the pair were shrouded in a cloud of icy white. I gripped the rope tighter, narrowing my eyes in an attempt to see through the flurries of snow that dusted across my cheeks and blinded me. The tension in my shoulders only marginally released when we cleared the avalanche and Natasha emerged from the snow, Alexei clinging to her for dear life. I let out a shaky breath, pulling myself up the rope toward the open door of the helicopter above. Yelena’s cheers sounded across the comms.

When I was back aboard the aircraft I slid back into the pilot seat beside Yelena, Natasha and Alexei were not far behind me. “He better be worth the effort.” I huffed, brushing the snow from my suit.

Alexei leaned out the door, waving at the prison below us. “Прощайте, придурки!” Goodbye, Douchebags!

I rolled my eyes at him, pulling the headset over my ears. Alexei continued to speak though I couldn’t make out what he was saying over the helicopter blades and headset. He rifled out in the back before pulling out a headset and quickly slipping it on so that he would be heard. The moment his mouth opened, before he could say anything, Yelena wound her arm back and punched him in the nose.

He groaned painfully. “Okay… Why the aggression, huh? Is it your time of the month?”

“I don’t get my period, dipshit. I don’t have a uterus.”

“Or ovaries,” I added, not sparing him a glance. “That’s what happens when the Red Room gives you an involuntary hysterectomy. They kind of just go in and they rip out all of your reproductive organs.”

Yelena hummed, nodding along. “They just get right in there and they chop them all away. Everything out, so you can’t have babies.”

“Okay! Okay!” Alexei shouted, finally taking a seat. “You don’t have to get so clinical and nasty.”

Yelena shrugged. “Oh, well, I was about to talk about fallopian tubes, but okay.”

“It means so much to me that you came back for me…”

Nat immediately shook her head. “No. No. You’re gonna tell us how to get to the Red Room.”

Alexei scoffed. “Oh, look at you, huh? All business.”

“Trust me this isn’t pleasure.”

I glanced back at Alexei, awaiting his response. “Little Natasha, all indoctrinated into the Western agenda.”

“I chose to go west to become an Avenger. Because they treated me like family.”

I swallowed heavily at the word, my chest tightening. The words exchanged between the two of them faded as I thought about the rest of our friends.

“You can act like double-crossing us was some moral dilemma all you want; I don’t care, you made your bed and now you can lay in it.”

The venom that had dripped from Tony’s words still stung every bit as much now as they echoed through my head. I pressed the palm of my hand to my chest; sure I could still feel remnants of the burn the beam had left when he’d struck me. I couldn’t bear listening to Alexei talk about the Avengers.

“Tell us where the Red Room is.” I deadpanned, looking back at him over my shoulder, expression glacial.

“Oh, hello, Nadia.”

I ignored him, repeating my question.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “I have no idea. Okay?”

 I tightened my hands into fists, throwing off my headset and moving into the back where Alexei lounged. His headset clattered to the ground when I yanked it from him.

“Bullshit. You and Dreykov were like-”

“Dreykov?!” The super soldier cut me off, laughing dryly. “General Dreykov, my friend, huh? Gives me glory… Soviet Union’s first and only super soldier. I could have been more famous than Captain America. Then he buries me in Ohio on that stupid mission. Three years! So tedious, boring me to tears.” He scoffed shaking his head before glancing between Natasha and Yelena. He continued on after that, but I couldn’t say with all honestly that I was fully listening to his tirade about how he could’ve been great if only Dreykov hadn’t turned on him for whatever reason and imprisoned him. The main takeaway was that he was of absolutely no use to us.

I cursed in Russian. “Perfect! That’s really great, can we throw him out the fucking window now?” “

“I think we should wait till we get to a higher altitude,” Natasha added, Yelena chorusing her agreement.

Alexei huffed yet again asking us, in Russian. “Why not ask Melina where it is?”

That name took me back. Back to when I was still small, when trust came easily to me; or at least easier. I’d known better than to trust Alexei in the Red Room. His devotion to Dreykov back then was something I never doubted for even a second. There was no point where I considered him an ally. Melina, however, was an entirely different story. I remember being in the shipping container vividly. Despite the biting cold, my hands shook with fear as I glanced over the tops of my knees at the other girls of varying ages. That bone-deep terror had stayed with me as I was ushered into the building that would imprison me for the majority of my adolescence. I had met Natasha and Yelena in the container while we were being transported. For some reason that first meeting made me feel inextricably bound to them both. I’d sought them out for comfort and familiarity when thrust into a world that was completely foreign to me so when they told me about Melina, their friend, a woman who had shown them kindness and love. I accepted her without hesitation. She became a symbol of warmth, an ally in a place where they taught us to see everyone as a threat. There was a time when I looked to Melina as a safe haven. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way the consequences of being too freehanded with trust.

“Wait, Mom Melina? We thought she was dead.”

“You cannot kill a fox that swift.” Natasha and Yelena both cringed at his words, but he continued. “She was the scientist, the strategist. I was the muscle. She worked directly for Dreykov far more than I ever did.”

“So, Melina is working for the Red Room present day?

Alexei nodded. “She works remotely outside St. Petersburg.”

“I don’t think we have enough fuel for St. Petersburg,” Yelena informed over her shoulder.

Alexei disagreed, assuring her that we would in fact make it. I shook my head, sitting back in the pilot seat next to Yelena. I couldn’t be sure exactly how much time passed before the helicopter lost power due to our lack of fuel and crash-landed in a field of flowers. What I was sure of was that we were absolutely not in St. Fucking Petersburg. I huffed exasperatedly, storming away from the vehicle and the insufferable super soldier who was still yammering on about one thing or another.

“You two should’ve brought the Avengers super jet.” He sighed.

Yelena, Natasha, and I glanced at each other, pure frustration evident on all of our expressions. “I swear, if I hear one more word from him, I will kick him in the face.” Yelena muttered. Nat and I both agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment.

Alexei picked up his pace, jogging to catch up as he called for mine and Natasha’s attention. “I have an important question… Did he talk to you about me?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Who?”

“Captain America. My great adversary in this theater of geopolitical conflict. Not so much a nemesis. More like a contemporary, you know? Coequal. I always thought there was a great deal of mutual respect…”

Natasha whirled around to face him. “You haven’t seen us in 20 years and you’re really gonna ask about you?

“What is with this tension? Did I do something wrong?”

Both Yelena and Natasha huffed, picking up their pace and walking off on Alexei.

I snorted as he looked around confused. “This is not going well, just in case you were wondering.”

He huffed yet again, watching the two women walk away. His eyes fell to me then. “Well, did he ever say anything to you?”

It was baffling to me, his dedication to this, his need to be known. Maybe he just thought it would make it easier to stomach being sent to prison by a man he’d dedicated his life to. I gasped, clicking and pointing at Alexei in feigned recognition, his eyes immediately brightened as he eagerly awaited my recollections. “You know what… no, no he didn’t. Not even one time.” I spoke, narrowing my eyes at him. He scoffed and walked off on me. I followed, remaining a few paces behind. “Honestly, its like you don’t even exist to him.”

Alexei stopped sharply whipping around and pointing an accusatory finger in my direction. “Oh, I get it, you’re trying to upset me. Well, you’ll have to try harder than that, you were much meaner as a child.”

I rolled my eyes, choosing not to waste my breath any longer, and walked ahead, a few paces behind Yelena and Nat.

…

Melina was standing by the fence when we arrived, watching us wordlessly, a large rifle dormant in her hands. Without so much as uttering a word to any of us she turned and began walking toward the house that sat further down the path.

“Welcome to my humble abode. Make yourself at home. Let’s have a drink.” She called in quick succession once we passed the threshold. I walked into the living room, watching Alexei inspect the furniture before glancing through the archway that revealed Melina in the kitchen being closely surveyed by Natasha.

I could hear the two women talking amongst themselves, but I busied myself with scanning the shelves and rooms for traps or anything particularly suspicious. Shortly after we arrived, Melina produced a bottle of Vodka and placed it in the middle of the table along with five plates and various trimmings for us to eat. I dropped down into one of the seats but didn’t touch any of the items sitting before me.

The room was filled with the sounds of Alexei grunting and groaning in the bathroom. I furrowed my eyebrows, glancing at Natasha as the sounds continued.

Melina’s voice joined the cacophony of sounds. “Let’s drink.”

She poured us all a shot of the clear liquor, but I only stared at it. The Red Room was all I could think about. I remembered Melina’s voice telling me that everything would be fine, her gentle yet calloused hands guiding me down the corridor into the training room. The first thing I saw was broad shoulders and dark hair. Then the metal arm as he turned toward me, I turned back to Melina fearfully, but she was gone and the door was closed, I saw her face through the glass as she locked me in, there was not an ounce of emotion on it.

Alexei’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Still fits.” He called, stepping out of the bathroom in his egregiously tight red suit. I shook my head as he approached the table.

Melina wolf-whistled before beginning to clap. “I never washed it once.” She noted smiling at him. “Come and drink.”

“Rise, you workers of salvation.” Alexei sang as he slid into the seat at the head of the table. “Family back together again.” He hummed.

“Seeing as our family construct was just a calculated ruse that only lasted three years, I don’t think that we can use this term anymore, can we?” Melina questioned, beginning to serve up the food.

Natasha nodded. “Agreed. So, here’s what’s gonna happen…”

She didn’t get to finish her thought before Alexei interrupted, leaning over the table to grab one of the plastic containers. “Okay. A reunion then, huh? And, uh… I want to say something right off the bat.” He looked over at Melina. “You haven’t aged a day, you’re just as beautiful and as supple as the day they staged our marriage.”

I grimaced, leaning back in my seat as the pair continued.

“You got fat. But still good.”

Alexei chuckled. “I just got out of prison. I, uh… I have a lot of energy.”

“Please don’t do that,” Natasha spoke, cringing at the sexually charged conversation that Melina and Alexei were so openly engaging in. Then she tried again. “So, here’s what’s gonna happen-”

“Natasha, don’t slouch.” It was Melina who interrupted her this time. Causing both her and Natasha to begin bickering about the very inconsequential topic of whether or not she was slouching.

I sighed as the arguing continued, finally lifting the vodka to my lips and throwing it back.

“All right, enough. All of you.” Natasha spat, cutting through the voices.

Yelena looked around in disbelief. “I didn’t say anything. That’s not fair.”

Yet again, Natasha began. “Here’s what’s gonna happen…”

“I don’t want any food,” Yelena complained petulantly.

“Oh, for fucks sake, just tell us the location of the Red Room,” I spoke up, sighing exasperatedly at the group.

Melina looked at Alexei with a sharp inhale. “You know, it’s like when you told them that they could stay up late to catch Santa Claus.”

“What? That was fun. You know, ‘He comes down the chimney, girls. Look out. Where is he?’ You wait for him, and then when the cookies are gone, then you see he’s there. I want them to follow their dreams. Reach for the stars, girls.”

I narrowed my eyes at the both of them.

“Finding Dreykov is not a fantasy. It’s unfinished business.”

It was Melina’s turn to sigh. “You can’t defeat a man who commands the very will of others. You never saw the culmination of what we started in America.” She nodded toward Alexei. “Nor did you.” A beeping sounded through the room before the door swung open and Melina called out for someone to come in. I tensed immediately, hand flying to the gun holstered at my hip. A snorting filled my ears and a moment later a pig came trotting into the room.

“Did that pig just open the door?” Natasha asked.

“Yes. It did. Good boy, Alexei. Good boy.” Melina responded.

Human Alexei raised an eyebrow at her. “You named a pig after me?”

“You don’t see the resemblance? See, he sits just like dog. Amazing. Now, watch. Stop breathing.” She fiddled around with her tablet and just like that the pig stopped breathing. “We infiltrated the North Institute in Ohio. It was a front for S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists. Actually, it was Hydra scientists at that time. In conjunction with the Winter Soldier project, they had dissected and deconstructed the human brain to create the first and only cellular blueprint of the basal ganglia. The hub for cognition. Voluntary motor movement, procedural learning. We didn’t steal weaponry or technology. We stole the key to unlocking free will.”

I watched the pig as it groaned and struggled, growing weary as it continued to not breathe. Melina’s words struck a chord within me. My hand tightened around the shot glass.

“What are you doing?” Natasha asked as the pig began to collapse as it suffocated.

Melina shrugged. “Oh, I am explaining that the science is now so exact, the subject can be instructed to stop breathing and has no choice but to obey.”

“Okay, you made your point. Let him breathe.” I demanded.

“Yes, all right. Well, don’t worry, Alexei could’ve survived 11 more seconds without oxygen.” She spoke tapping another button on her screen and allowing the pig to continue breathing. “The world functions on a higher level when it is controlled. Dreykov has chemically subjugated agents planted around the globe.”

Yelena spoke up then. “And do you know who they test it on?”

Melina hummed. “No. That’s not my department.”

“Ah, come on, come on. Don’t lie to them. You’re Dreykov’s architect.” Alexei argued.

“What were you? If I was his architect, you were his partner. You were his business partner.

This comment then caused Melina and Alexei to begin arguing and my head was beginning to ache. I poured another shot for myself.

Finally, Natasha had enough. “Shut up!” She shouted, pointing at Alexei accusingly. “You are an idiot.” Before turning to Melina. “And you’re a coward. You’re a coward. And our family was never real, so there’s nothing to hold on to. We’re moving on.”

“Never family, huh? In my heart, I am a simple man. And I think that for a couple of deep undercover Russian agents, I think we did pretty great as parents, huh? Yes, we had our orders, and we played our roles to perfection.”

“Who cares? That wasn’t real.” Natasha argued.

I looked at Yelena then, watching her face shift ever so slightly as she glanced between Natasha and the other two.

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. It was real. It was real to me. You are my mother. You were my real mother. The closest thing I ever had to one. The best part of my life was fake. And none of you told me.” There was a shakiness to her voice that I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard before. “Those agents you chemically subjugated around the globe? That was me.” She hummed, glancing at me. “Any it was Nadia too.” I looked down at my hands, swallowing heavily. Yelena gestured at Natasha. “You, you got out. So, Dreykov made sure no one could escape.” Silence sat heavily in the room. “Are you gonna say anything? No?” She stood from the table abruptly, her chair scraping harshly against the wooden floor. “Don’t touch me.” She spat as Melina reached for her.

Natasha called her name as the blonde retreated to the bedroom, closing the doors behind her.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Alexei spoke, standing from the table to follow after her.

After a few moments of silence, I pushed my chair back from the table as well, not glancing back at either of the women who remained at the table as I left.

I wandered into a back room that appeared to be a study with a large bay window that overlooked the rolling fields behind Melina’s property. My arms were crossed over my chest as I leaned back against the wall. When the door to the room opened again, I did not need to look over to know who’d entered.

“It’s called InfiltraX isn’t it? The chemical you used to ‘subjugate’ the widows.”

There was silence for a long moment before she answered. “I wasn’t the one using it.”

“But you were the one who created it, weren’t you? Don’t bullshit me with your semantics, Melina.” I glanced over at her before looking back ahead. “Why was I given it before the others were? Was I not up to scratch, not a good enough killer?”

Yet again, several beats of silence filled the space between us.

“You were not good, Nadia… You were great. One of the best ever produced. Maybe, even the best.”

I continued to stare out the window at the expanse of greenery. “That isn’t the compliment you may think it is.”

When I looked back at her she was already looking at me. She moved to stand beside me, looking out at the fields just as I had been. “I just mean… you were an exemplary soldier, but it is not all of you. Just a small, manufactured part. The injections were meant to mold you into an instrument of destruction, of death.” She did not look at me while she spoke. “And yet, even with all of our tweaks… the part of you that feels, the part that loves, it never died. It’s that part of you that would always bring you back after your sessions. The part that kept the score.”

I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to say. What was there to say? “What difference does it make now?” I muttered; not even sure I wanted her to answer. “You know I still dream about it. Constantly. It clings to me always, unrelenting. You say it is just a small part of me, really? Because for most of my life it has been the only part of me. Or at least the only one I could remember. You made sure of that.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You took every part of me and dissolved it into nothing. You injected me so many times with that shit that I mutated. Tell me why. Who the hell am I?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s the truth. Even I didn’t have the clearance to know that. I figured that you were someone important, but Dreykov never told me. My best guess was that you were the child of a politician or at least someone powerful but beyond that, I honestly have no idea.”

My next sentiment was so quiet they were barely audible. An exhale of air in the shape of words. I didn’t even mean to vocalize it. “I’m never going to know, am I?”

There was tension thick in the air between us, I steeled myself as I heard the shaky breath she exhaled. “Nadia.”

“Just say it. I already know.”

And I did.

She had alerted the Red Room. I knew it from the moment we sat down to eat. Whether it was something in her countenance or the way she so casually poured us liquor around the table. Perhaps it was just a symptom of my training to always assume the worst. Whatever the reason, I knew it was coming.

What I didn’t predict was what came next. I didn’t foresee her explaining to me how Dreykov had also injected us with something that would render us powerless to him when we would smell his pheromones, and that in order to defeat him I had to sever the… nerve. I certainly didn’t expect her to show me her weaponry room and guide me toward a familiar technology. One that would allow me to project her likeness over my appearance so that to all onlookers I would appear to be Melina.

When I was alone, I leaned back against the wall once more, attempting to catch my breath. The thought of going back in was crushing me, smothering my ability to breathe evenly. I tightened my short braids, closing my eyes for a long moment while I tried to think about anything else. My thumb rubbed absently over the old scar on my wrist, the mark left from where I’d carved the tracker out from under my flesh; an unyielding reminder of my roots. Without fully realizing it, my hand found the letter that I’d stuffed into my jacket pocket. I unfolded it slowly, my hands shaking profusely. At some point between retrieving it from of my pocket and holding it in front of myself, I’d decided that irrespective of what it said or how hate-filled it might be, I needed to know what he’d written to me. Needed to have some form of communication with him after weeks of nothing. The sound of jet engines in the distance filled the air, along with blindingly bright lights that crept up the windows. I took one final steadying breath before beginning to read the words penned across the page just for me.

Nadia,

I’m not really sure how to begin this… or end it or even what to say at all.

The sound of engines grew louder and louder, the light now shining directly through the windows as the house was no doubt surrounded.

That’s probably a stupid way to start but it’s what I’m going with, I guess.

I’m still mad at you, or at least I want to be. You switched sides in the middle of the fight, and you are so damn stubborn it drives me insane. Then you just disappear without a trace, without even giving me the chance to realize how much of a complete fucking idiot I was being. I have spent days trying my very best to find the anger, to stay mad at you but I can’t. All I can think about is how many times you tried to tell me, how you tried to confide in me about how trapped the accords made you feel but I couldn’t hear it. I should have seen how much you were struggling right in front of me, but I was too caught up in my anger, my self-loathing to be there for you and yet, you never stopped being there for me.

I don’t know how to say I’m sorry, but I am. It seems like it should be simple, it’s just two words, but it’s not enough to convey how I actually feel. What I said to you that day… it was unforgivable, so I would understand if you didn’t accept my apology, I’d also understand if you tore this letter to shreds and never looked back. I hate what I said that day and there is no excuse for it. All I can offer you is the explanation that I was completely terrified of losing you and Wanda. I felt you slipping through my fingers and I was trying desperately to hold on tighter and eventually my fear and inability to convince you overwhelmed me. I know that doesn’t make it better, but I just needed you to know that not a single word of it was sincere.

Lately, it feels like all I’ve done is mess things up and hurt you, that thought is punishment in itself. It kills me because hurting you is the last thing I would ever want, yet I might never get to tell you that again. I might never get another chance to tell you just how pathetically in love with you I am. The most painful thought of all is that you might think anything else. Because of all the things that have been completely upended lately, that is one of the only things that has never changed. No matter how angry I thought I was or what I said, for me there is only you.

There will only ever be you, Nadia.

For as long as I live and every moment after.

Inima mea îți aparține.

Pietro

Chapter Text

It looked different from the outside, but inside it was the same.

The threshold laid before me, just a single step forward and I’d be engulfed by the walls that had once imprisoned me. I paused for a moment, watching the guards ahead of me drag an unconscious Yelena, Natasha and Alexei into containment cells. Behind them, I watched Melinda being carried into a cell; though she wore my likeness, it was exceptionally unnerving to witness. A deep, steadying breath filled my lungs, and I clenched my hands into fists at my side before taking that final step over the threshold and following the guards down the corridor. Synchronized footsteps echoed through the door of one of the rooms. I paused again at the window, looking in to see a space that was modelled almost exactly the same as the original training rooms from the old Red Room; maybe a little more state-of-the-art, but nauseatingly familiar. Several young women were inside the room, weapons in hand as they followed through with one of their training sequences. Despite much of my childhood and identity being a mystery to me, this, I remembered like the back of my hand. I could do these steps in my sleep. All eyes in the room turned to me as I passed, recognition flashing over their faces but no other emotion present.

I continued on down the corridor, flanked by a single guard who waited outside the elevator as I entered. A set of wooden double doors sat before me, the last remaining barrier between me and a man I had not seen in a very long time. The man who haunted my dreams; the man who took the everything from me.

A buzzing sounded overhead just before the doors swung open. His office matched the entryway leading to it, wood and brick with glimmering, tasseled lightshades, ironically decadent for what it was. It looked just like the original. It seemed I was not the only one who had trouble letting go of the past.

In the center of it all, lounging very nonchalantly on a sofa was the man of the hour.

Dreykov.

Behind him, the armored man who’d been hunting us for the past few days stood guard, still as a statue, as if he was not even breathing.

“My God. Look at you.” He’d gotten old, even his voice reflected that. Though, the moment I heard it I had to fight to remain stoic. Every part of me threatening to tremble and sink back into itself. Dreykov stood from his seat as he continued. “So, uh, how was the family reunion?”

“Oh, it was awful.” I sighed, standing tall as he approached me, closer than I had been to him it over a decade. “They were clingy, and too emotional; needy.”

He chuckled at my words. “Just like old times, no?”

I hummed in agreement, moving my hands behind my back so he would not see how tightly I was clenching them. The leather of my gloves, the only thing stopping my nails from tearing into the flesh and drawing blood. My heart was racing so hard against my chest I was surprised he could not hear it. This feeling was not one I was particularly accustomed to anymore, this unsteadiness. I wasn’t sure if it was the familiarity of these walls or the man before me who was causing me to react this way. Whatever the reason, I chose to summon the feelings that lived beneath the fear, the simmering rage that infiltrated every fiber of my being. The feeling that threatened to boil me into ire and hatred incarnate and keep going until I was nothing but my fury.

“Yelena Belova. What’s the story with her? She was the only one affected, right?”

I nodded. “As far as I know, yes.”

“These gasses and antidotes… it’s a pain in my ass.” He was so close to me I could strike him in one hit, believing I was Melina had lulled him into a causal comfort that would make it so easy for me to attack him. Though I knew the pheromone lock would not allow me to. “It’s a problem. You need to sort it.” He spoke firmly.

“I have nine pigs that will require attending to in my absence.” I told him, attempting to keep up the charade.

Dreykov was speaking before I’d fully gotten the words out. “I don’t give a shit about your pigs.” He took a hold of my shoulders and forced me to sit in the chair opposite his very expensive looking desk. I gritted my teeth hard, using every ounce of strength I possessed to not shove his hands away from me as his hand came down over the top of my head, tilting it backward as he spoke in my ear. “Cut her brain out… Hmm? Identify the weakness.” I swallowed heavily before he moved to sit on the desk opposite me, leaning forward and gripping either arm of the chair, caging me in.

“What about Morozova and Romanoff?”

He scoffed. “Traitors, both of them. They turned their backs on their people, on their blood.” Dreykov shook his head, leaning into my face as he continued, venom dripping from his tongue. “Nadia Morozova,” He tsked. “She was nothing, a pathetic, scared little girl. I gave her a home; I gave her love. She is my greatest disappointment of all. Put that thing in her you do. You know the, uh, chemicals. Turn her into one of your pigs.” He spat. “Remind her what happens to traitors. Can you imagine what I could do with an Avenger under my control? Romanoff can meet the same fate.”

Then, it wasn’t so hard to summon the anger. It rose in me all on its own, threatening to pour out of me in a tidal wave of utter wrath. “Wouldn’t you like to speak to her first?” I responded cooly.

“When you look into the eyes of a child you have raised, you always know, no mask in the world can hide that.” He leaned back, hand lifting but I caught it before it could tap the mask trigger on my temple. Holding onto it roughly, I wanted to break his fucking hand, every bone in it, just to hear him cry but as quickly as I grabbed him the pheromone lock set in and jolted me, making me release my grip on his wrist. The mask deactivating felt like the tickling of a feather over my flesh, almost sending a shiver down my spine. When it cleared Dreykov pulled it from me, a smug look covering his face. “Nadia… my Nadia, you have come home at last. What a shame it is only to die.”  The armored man immediately drew his weapon, aiming it at me but Dreykov lifted his hand. “Now, now. Don’t go breaking my new toy.” I only thought of Yelena and Natasha. I hoped by now Yelena had found the blade we’d hidden in her belt and had freed herself from the medical room before the procedure had begun. Natasha had surely activated her tracker by now and Ross would be on his way. “Was this your plan?”

I tilted my head side to side, humming. “No, my plan is to kill you.”

“I’m alive.” He taunted. “So, what do we do now.”

Without missing a beat, I asked. “Who were my parents?”

He chuckled. “Ah, where I buried them, there was this lovely tree, with little yellow flowers on it, magnificent really. Reminded me of the grave I put Natasha’s mother in. Oh, I am really trying to remember the names inscribed on those tombstones.”

“You’re a liar.” I believed my words, though my heart still stuttered at what he was saying. “I know you, Dreykov, you are nothing if not vain. You would not have gone to all the trouble you did to turn me into this if my parents were not around to see it. I know the truth now, this was personal. So at least have dignity to say their names to my face.”

His lips curved upward as he watched me, a joyous smile spreading across his face. He nodded, once, twice, another laugh coming from him as he took his sweet time as if considering my question. “No.” A word so simple and insignificant yet it was everything, if there were no pheromone lock in place I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop myself from killing him on the spot. “That would defeat the purpose of all that work I did to ensure that you disappeared completely from their lives and all that effort dissolving them from yours, as if they never even existed.” The tone of his voice made it apparent just how much enjoyment he was deriving from this.

“You don’t even feel anything?” My eyes were stinging and no matter how much I fought it the sensation only worsened. “Did you feel something when your daughter was killed?” I gritted out.

“Ah, Natasha’s haunted past? Really? That is your big trump card?” He was downright giggling at me now. “I hope you get to thank your friend for me, she gave me my greatest weapon. Although, I suspect maybe she is already listening.” He tapped his ear to signify the comm he evidently realized I was wearing as he walked toward the armored figure that had not so much as slouched since holstering the gun. Dreykov wrapped his arm around the man. “Say hello.” He muttered. When the mask released and the helmet was lifted, I realized it was not a man at all, but a girl that did not appear much younger than me. Despite the scars that covered her skin, I recognized her right away, Antonia.

Dreykov’s daughter.

“When Natasha’s bomb exploded, it nearly killed my Antonia. I had to put a chip in the back of her neck. Look at her.” He gestured to the girl again. “Do you find it difficult to look at her?” Natasha had not so much as uttered a word over the comms. “I do. She… she watches everything, and she can do it. She’s a perfect mimic.” He entered my space again then. “She fights just like all of your friends. Tell me Natasha, do you want to make her feel better? Want to tell her you’re sorry? Well, you should have thought of that before you blew her face off.” He gritted right into my ear that held the comm. “But enough of all this bullshit.” He sighed, moving away from me finally. “Go to work, I have rats in the basement, go.” He ushered Antonia out of the room like she was nothing more than another faceless soldier. The second the door closed, I pulled the gun from my holster and aimed it at Dreykov’s head.

“That was not very smart.”

He huffed. “How so?”

“You just sent away the only thing that would’ve stopped me from killing you.”

He nodded, thoughtfully. “Try then, do it.” I gripped the gun hard, pressing the trigger as hard as I could even though I knew I’d never be able to fire at him. Still, I strained to pull it. “Is the safety off?” He taunted before pushing my hands to the side and taking the gun like it was nothing. “No?” He aimed the gun at the roof and fired it easily. “Try your knife.” Before the words were even out of his lips I was swinging the blade at him. He caught my wrist and took my weapon again before leaning into my face. “You’re in trouble.”

I swallowed my pride, playing along. “How are you controlling me?”

“I’m not controlling you, Nadia. Well, not yet, but there is a pheromonal lock. Smelling my pheromones prevents you from committing violence against me.” He lifted his hand to hit me, and I flinched away, another blow to my pride. This was not a very fun part to play. He turned away from me, walking back to his desk to take a seat. “I’m very upset with Melina. It’s a shame I have to kill her.” I thought of Antonia who was headed for the basement where Melina and Alexei were being held. He pulled a tablet from his desk drawer, a camera loading on the screen to reveal Melina in the server room attempting to initiate the landing sequence for Ross. “So, this was the big plan, huh? Melina was going to land the Red Room and hand me over to the authorities.” He hit a few buttons and locked her out.

“So, what now, you’re gonna fold me into your pathetic little puppeteer act?” I baited, time for my part of the plan.

Dreykov’s eyebrows rose at my words. “Pathetic, huh?”

I nodded. “Yeah, what would you call it?”

“I would call it-” I cut him off before he could continue.

“When was the last time that you had a conversation with somebody that wasn’t forced to talk to you?” I began toward his desk.

He huffed. “You ran away to fight in the wrong war. The real war was fought here, in the shadows.”

His words had me breathing a laugh. “You didn’t fight in the shadows. You hid in the dark.”

“Real power comes from undetectable influence.”

My eyebrows rose and I planted my hands on the wood on his desk, leaning forward to talk to him just as he’d spoke to me so many times, superiority dripping from every syllable. “If no one’s noticing, then why even do it? I mean to everyone else in the world… You are nothing.” He hummed, looking away in attempted nonchalance. However, I had spent half my life being trained to observe every shift in a person's demeanor no matter how subtle. I knew I was digging my way under his skin, just the place I wanted to be. “You have nothing.”

“There are 50 people on this planet…”

I scoffed loudly. “Oh, stop it.”

He snapped then, slamming his hands against the table and standing, attempting to make himself big. “Don’t tell me to stop!” He shouted.

This time I didn’t flinch, the fearful girl from before was long gone. I leaned further into his space. “If I don’t tell you when to stop, then how will you know when to shut up?”

The impact of his punch forced me backward off of the desk, my head swinging to the side. I grunted, swinging my jaw back and forth to relieve the ache there. “Come on. You really think I can’t take a punch?” My words were laced with amusement as I laughed theatrically at him.

Dreykov rounded his desk. “Oh.” He hummed, his fist slamming into my jaw yet again, harder this time, causing me to stumble slightly. The man before me grunted with exertion.

“God damn it, you’re so weak.” I taunted, my laughter only growing.

His teeth were gritted so tightly I’m surprised they hadn’t cracked. “Weak?”

“Easier to act tough in front of defenseless little girls, no?”

“That’s enough.” He growled and punched me again, so hard I fell to the ground, unable to hide the sound that fell from my lips. I quickly moved to perch on the ground, readying myself for his next move, an amused look quickly spreading across my face, despite the pain that thrummed through me.

Dreykov kicked me back down to the ground. “You wouldn’t be so glib if you had any notion of the scope of what I’ve built.” I move back to my knees, attempting to wipe that blood that dripped from my nose. “I own this world. Me.” He insisted.

I scoffed yet again. “You seem desperate to impress me.”

“I don’t need to impress you. I don’t need to impress anyone.” He turned away from me quickly, presumably to hide the anger. His chair squeaked as he yanked it roughly out from the desk so that he could pull out a drawer with a scan pad on it. “These world leaders, these great men, they answer to me and my widows.” He scanned the large ring her wore on his pinkie, bringing up a hologram map of the world with innumerable glowing dots. “Look at them. These girls were trash. They are thrown out into the street. I recycle the trash. And I give them purpose. I give them a life.” On the screen several images appeared, profiles of each widow, countless girls that he’d subjugated, girls who were nothing to him, just a means to an end.

I heard Yelena, Natasha and Melina communicating over the comms. Yelena and Nat had the vials, but Melina was having trouble.

Dreykov spoke again then. “It’s my network of widows that help me control the scales of power. One command, the oil and stock markets crumble. One command, and a quarter of the planet will starve. My widows can start and end wars. They can make and break kings.” I saw it all before my eyes, all of the destruction, the suffering that he took pleasure in, it was all revealed to me. “And with you and Natasha, Avengers under my control, I can finally come out of the shadows using the only natural resource that the world has too much of. Girls.”

My skin felt hot as the dormant anger that had lived within me for all these years roared to life. “All that from your little console, Dreykov?”

“That’s General Dreykov to you, girl.” He thought it was a reprimand, a reminder of who had the power in this dynamic, however, all it did was reassure me that I’d rattled him. My lips curved upward. “Oh, you find this amusing? Why are you smiling?”

“Don’t take it personal, but, uh… Thank you for your cooperation. Though, you weren’t quite strong enough, so… I’ll have to finish it myself.”

My conversation with Melina’s echoed through my head.

“Even if you locate the database and get him to show you the key, you won’t be able to take it from him. For years, Dreykov has implemented a pheromonal lock in all widows, even me. So, as long as we can smell him, then we won’t be able to hurt him.

I shrugged. “So, I’ll hold my breath.”

“Not enough. This is basic science. Nadia, to block receptors in olfactory center, you have to sever the nerve.”

Dreykov chuckled again. “What are you going to do?”

I slammed my face against the desk as hard as I could, a sickening crunch filling the room as I broke my own nose. “Sever the nerve.” I felt the trickle of blood down to my lips but only smiled at the bemused man before me. “Why the long face? After all, it was you who wanted me to learn how to dismantle someone from the inside out. Tell me… how do you like having your own lessons used against you. Do you feel something now, General Dreykov?” Even when dripping with mockery, attributing a title of any rank to him made me sick to my stomach. When the reality of the situation dawned on him, he quickly reached for the tablet, but I was quicker, I grabbed his hand yanking it forward over the table and away from the device before unsheathing the knife in my belt and driving it through the back of his hand until it anchored his limb to the wood of his desk. I slipped the ring from his finger before letting go. He cried out in agony, knees buckling. So caught up in his pain that he did not even notice that I’d taken his ring. He looked like he’d seen a ghost as the blood dripped down his flesh.

The ship trembled beneath my feet causing me to stumble slightly and red lights began flashing around me, alarms ringing throughout the rooms. Melina’s voice came across the comms then. “Girls, slight change of plan. I completely demolished one of the engines and we are going into a controlled crash.”

“Fantastic. Natasha and I are heading to the widows now.” Yelena responded.

I breathed a small laugh as the room shook, his fancy glass chandeliers swaying heavily. I leant onto the handle causing it to wedge further into the wood and wiggle within Dreykov’s hand causing another shout of utter agony to wretch from his lips. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s like you said to me… pain…” I wiggled the handle again. He was pale as a ghost as I continued. “It’s just weakness leaving the body.” I finally pulled the knife out of the desk and his hand, causing him to crumple fully to the floor. He scrambled to catch himself, using his unaffected hand and elbows to drag himself away, though he didn’t get far before I kicked him in the side to make him roll over onto his back. “Not so talkative now, are you?” He moved back to his feet but I roundhouse kicked him, causing him to slam into his desk before falling to the ground again. “You took my childhood; you took my will, my choices; you took everything from me to try and break me, but you’re never gonna do that to anybody ever again.” I grabbed him by the collar, slamming him back onto the concrete and swiftly moving to pin him down.

“The only part of it I regret… is not making you suffer more, my little pet.” He managed to grunt out over the pain.

I nodded, a smile spreading across my lips. It was like I could feel flames licking at my skin as I raised my fist with the knife in it, still dripping with his blood. I gritted my teeth, the rage that lived within me clawed its way further up, it had seeped from beneath my flesh and now I was covered in it. “Goodbye, Dreykov.” I muttered. This was it, the moment I’d been robbed of before, the retribution I’d needed for all these years. Dreykov’s life would be mine, the final piece to end this all for good. I’d once said that I hated him for what he did to me so much that hate was inadequate a word. He had taken everything from me, from so many girls. He had turned me into something I despised and taken pleasure in it. This was what he deserved. Yet, as I looked down at him, hand raised, knife clutched tightly in my fist, I recognized in his eye, for maybe the first time, fear, genuine dread and helplessness. This was a moment that had played out in my head a million times now, I’d imagine this look on his face numerous times. It should have been satisfactory; I should have been pleased by it. However, all I could think about was Oksana, the way he’d pressed my hand around the gun and encouraged me to pull the trigger, I thought of all of the lives I’d taken when the red controlled every part of me. But the red was gone now. Now, it was just me. The words Tony had said to me the day he revealed my new suit, echoed through my head.

“now, you can control the red”

If I finished him, it would be in cold blood, with him lying vulnerable on the floor beneath me. As much as he may not want to die, he wanted to see my dissolution more. It occurred to me then that I was giving him exactly what he wanted. I was proving him right, being the person he wanted me to be, the one puppeteered by him. The one whose only purpose was to destroy. The red did not control me anymore, I controlled it.

Before I even had the chance to decide what my next move was every thought in my head shattered and agony overtook my body. I couldn’t move or speak as my body fell to the ground beside him, wracking with the pain of the widow’s byte that had been used on me.

I groaned with the echoes of the shock but rolled over quickly, forcing myself back to my feet before the group of widows that blocked the door. Dreykov moved through them easily. “Nobody leaves this room until she’s dead. Make her suffer.” Before he left the room he glanced back at me. “You know it has always been fascinating to me that you consider yourself an Avenger. Do you really think you are anything like your friends?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Because you are nothing like them, Nadia. You are not a hero, it does not matter how hard you try, you will never be that. It isn’t who you are, it’s not in your DNA, I made sure of that.” With those words he turned and left.

The fact that his words had any effect on me at all was infuriating. I attempted to steel myself against them, but I could not deny that they ate away at me, corroding me inside out. Perhaps, it was nothing to do with who he was, but more to do with the fact that now the voice in the back of my head was not alone. I swallowed heavily, rolling my shoulders.

When the door was closed the group of women began to close in on me. “I don’t want to hurt you and you don’t want to hurt me.” Three of them launched forward swinging electrified batons at me, I ducked under it and pulled the girl who’d swung downward to disarm her and sweep her feet. Once I had her baton in hand, I narrowly blocked the next attack and shocked the girl who was coming at me before dropping to a knee and punching the third girl in the stomach and standing to grab her hand and point the baton away from me. I kept my grip strong as I swung her down to the ground and used the momentum to kick the widow running at me from behind. I finally got the baton from the previous girl and whirled around only to get stuck by yet another widow, the impact causing me to fall on top of Dreykov’s desk. “Okay so maybe you do want to hurt me.” I groaned to myself, turning over just in time to block another girl’s hit.

I aimed her arm toward one of the others and triggered the byte to incapacitate her. When I managed to slip from beneath her I forced her wrist away for me so she could not shock me, but she yanked away causing us to tumble over the desk in a battle to control. She punched me hard and tried to kick me over the furniture between us, but I caught her leg and yanked her over the desk to hit her. However, before my fist collided with her, I was tackled backward onto the ground. I kicked the one who had attacked me away and moved back to my feet swiftly, firing Widow’s bytes at as many of the women as I could. Most of them fell to the floor, but three grouped up to slam me into a pillar and hold their connected batons to my throat. I yanked the weapons apart and headbutted the girl in front me hard, the distraction enough to slip past the other two widows. But one of them caught me and threw me across the room, causing me to fall over the desk yet again, crumpling to the ground on the other side. By this time all the previously incapacitated widows were back on their feet, and they moved toward me. I pushed myself to my knees again, but someone’s boot slammed into my already aching face, causing me to fall back onto my stomach. I dragged myself away, but another boot collided with my head. I hit a baton away and kicked a girl’s foot to trip her before she could strike me, but it was no use as one of them grabbed me from behind, pulling me up and into a chokehold while they punched me and kicked me in the stomach, again and again.

Throughout the continuous hits all I could think about was Pietro. His letter had stuck to me like a second skin since I read it. All this time, I’d thought he hated me for what I’d done but I was completely wrong. I was not sure if that made it all better or much worse. It was a lot easier to throw myself into the fight thinking that he never wanted to see me again rather than realizing that if this was it for me, I would be leaving with so much left unsaid.

My body was in such immense amounts of pain and my mind so caught up in the thought of Pietro that I barely even registered the explosion overhead. When the blows had ceased and I collapsed forward onto my hands, I looked upward to see a flurry of glittering red specks descending on us. It was like the delicate fall of snow or rain only crimson. My body took the reins before I even had time to make a decision and I took a deep breath, filling my lungs to the brim. Finally, for just one moment there was silence; nothingness. But then every muscle in my body tensed sharply like electricity was pulsing through my every nerve ending. The flecks of red seeped into my skin, invading every part of me, my airways, my blood, my lungs. I felt it smooth over my mind last of all, penetrating every crevice of every thought and recollection and then it halted for a moment. I barely felt it hit the barrier in my mind over all the other sensations. The halt was short lived, however, as it wrapped itself around the wall, travelling along the expanse of it before digging in, pressing, constricting it from all sides until it completely shattered and suddenly my mind was filled with… everything. Images flickered past, moments, sounds, smells and sensations all overtook me, filling my head and if I wasn’t already kneeling, I was sure my knees would’ve buckled. That breath felt like the first real one I’d taken; it was like finally waking up after years of being half lidded; half conscious. I was barely even aware of where I was in the world. 

“Stars shining bright above you.”

A soft hand brushed a curl from my eyes and when I looked up, I saw the woman’s face with complete clarity. Her honeyed blonde hair, adoring brown eyes that reflected my own face. A single string of pearls hanging from her neck. “Night breezes seem to whisper…” she leaned in to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I love you.” 

A tug on my pigtail and then there was that familiar boy again, smiling so brightly down at me. He tightened the strap of my backpack and took my hand. “Come on, bug.” But where the moment stopped before and fizzled away to nothing it continued. I remember following along after the boy down the New York street, remembered how it felt to hold his hand and the easy conversation that flowed between us. The warm safety of his arm resting around my shoulders surrounded me. I recalled him reading to me late at night when I’d had a nightmare and sought him out for comfort. The dim glow from his bedside lamp painting everything in shades of gold as his voice pulled me to sleep. 

I could remember the way the way the peonies smelt in my mother’s garden and the soft crunch of sun-soaked grass beneath my feet. My mother… I had a mother.

“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl.” There was a house on the coast, that was where the garden was. Summers spent in those halls flooded my mind, laughter pouring from room to room. We’d visit that house when my parents argued because my father worked too much. I could hear their voices so clearly it was like they were right there before me. 

My parents.

My brother. 

They were there; they had existed. They had belonged to me… I had belonged to them. I had been a part of a family, I remember now. 

I recalled sitting down for my Russian lessons when I was with Hydra, the headset that was strapped onto me day in day out, forcing me to adapt the language as my own.

And then I remembered a singular word, two syllables, the sound of it echoing through my head and wrapping tightly around me like an embrace. I could see it written, everywhere, the back of photographs, embroidered on my backpack. A word I had learned to spell, to sound out, a word that had always lived within me.

Though, the speed with which it all came back to me, the tidal wave of emotions and memories, threatened to swallow me whole; pull me beneath the surface and drown me in the breadth of it all. When it all came back to me it was still jumbled, like wading through a picture album that had been rearranged again and again and set back to front not once but endlessly. I couldn’t make sense of it.

But I remembered and the memories had not dissipated into vague moments like normal, no, they lived within me. They existed freely in my mind. Two sets of arms wrapped around me, pulling me to my feet and I cried out in pain as the jolt. When I opened my eyes, I saw Natasha and Yelena, pulling me from the center of the group and helping me stand upright.

A voice piped up then, though, she spoke in Finnish. “What do we do now?”

“You get as far away from here as possible. You get to make your own choices now.” Natasha said. The sound of metal groaning filled the room and the tower crumbled further. “We’ve gotta get out of here.” She added. Nudging me toward Yelena.

I shook my head, grabbing her by the hand, pressing the ring into her palm. “Dreykov’s files. We have to get them.”

Natasha nodded. “You two go. Find Dreykov, I’m right behind you.” She said, running back into the room. I hesitated, glancing between her and Yelena. “Nadia, go, I’m right behind you. I promise.”

With those words she turned to the drawer and began opening the digital files again.

Yelena tugged me hard toward the door before exiting herself. I wrapped my hands around my nose, forcing it back into place with a cry before finally turning and following her out as the tower continued to rattle and crumble. We took the stairs two at a time, rushing through the rooms to get out onto the landing platform where Dreykov was being ushered to a helicopter to be airlifted out. We made it out of the building just in time to see which one he boarded. Another jolt in the tower’s structure caused me to be thrown forward onto the tarmac as Yelena aimed her grapple rope onto the helicopters roof to launch herself atop it. She climbed up onto the wing as it began to ascend, pulling out her own electrified baton and holding it above her head victoriously.

I yelled her name, moving to my feet once more and running forward. She looked down at me, a small smile on her face. “This was fun.” She called down before jamming the baton into the engine causing the entire helicopter to erupt into flames, throwing her backward.

Without another thought I ran forward, grabbing the parachute that had been discarded and leaping from the platform. Wind whipped around me as I fell, gripping the bag tightly. In the distance I heard my name, a glance back, hard as it was to see through the chaos of the collapsing tower, revealed Natasha hot on my tail. I pulled my limbs in tightly allowing me to soar downward toward Yelena who continued to freefall.

The dread in the pit of my stomach did not settle until I reached her, strapping the backpack to her and holding on tightly to the straps as I launched the parachute, slowing our descent. She stared at me wordlessly the whole time, eyebrows slightly knitted together.

I was breathing hard, my heart still racing, hands a little shaky. “The Red Room was death.” I spoke up, unprompted by her. “I let you die alone once… I’m not doing it again.” I spoke. She didn’t respond, only continuing to stare at me. I grabbed a hold of Natasha’s hand as she neared us, Yelena taking the other, our descent beginning to pick up again. The trio was short-lived however, as we spotted Antonia approaching rapidly. Without uttering a word to either of us, Natasha moved to shove us away propelling herself out of our proximity and toward the very insistent assassin. “Natasha!” I shouted, reaching out for her again but she was already too far out of reach. She managed to avoid Antonia’s knife as she grappled onto her and launched the girls parachute, slowing their descent just enough to save them as they crashed into the ground. It was then I realized how close we were to the ground and how quickly we were still going. I grabbed Yelena’s hands tightly in mine. “I’m sorry, Yelena.” And with that I let go, allowing the parachute to slow her landing without the weight of an extra person.

The impact of the ground was the last thing I fell into darkness.

Whether it was a moment or an hour that passed I couldn’t be sure but when I opened my eyes Yelena and Natasha leaned over me. “Always so dramatic.” Yelena tsked teasingly. The two women took each of my hands and pulled me back to my feet. She gestured between herself and Natasha. “We had a whole moment, and you missed it.”

“So sorry.” I breathed as I rubbed my temples to soothe the pain that thudded in my head. Natasha wandered over to Antonia who laid on her back staring up at the sky and was, most notably, not trying to kill any of us. I narrowed my eyes at the pair. “Exactly how much did I miss?”

“A lot.” Yelena nodded. Looking away for a long moment. She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face, it was evident that there was something she wanted to say but was struggling to find the words. “You know, I have been so mad at you for so long. Mad that you and Natasha always had your little duo that I wasn’t a part of, with all of your secrets that I didn’t get to know. I was mad that I was constantly on the outside, mad that she told you she was leaving but not me. Then I was mad because I realized that she didn’t tell you at all and you were just protecting me all along and I didn’t even know.” Her voice cracked then, just as it had at the dining table in Melina’s cottage. “I was so furious that you had taken their relentless interrogation and torture all while shielding me. You weren’t supposed to do that; you were the baby; I was supposed to protect you…”

I had not realized that she knew about all of that. It was all so vivid in my mind, like it was only yesterday. It is like she said before, after Natasha escaped, they wanted to make sure no one else could. They knew we were close, all three of us. She must have left clues for at least one of us. They wanted to torture Yelena and I both to get the answers. So, I had to change their minds. I made sure they thought Yelena was nothing but a bothersome little sister. Natasha never told me she was defecting, all she left was the post card after she was gone, but I knew nothing before that. After I realized that they would have brought Yelena into it I told them that I did know, that Natasha had hinted it to me but I’d assumed she meant nothing by it. Then I said:

“I made sure that she never poisoned Yelena’s mind with her weakness.”

I supposed I figured I was Dreykov’s protégé, he would not want me to be killed and if he changed his mind, well, after weeks of torture death did not seem such a terrible fate. It did not matter to me as long as I shielded Yelena from it.

“Yelena-” before I could continue, she was cutting me off, tears brimming her green eyes making them gleam.

“Why did you do that?! They tortured you for days, he sent you to die on that mission in St. Petersburg. It was not a coincidence that they reassigned you at the last second, Nadia, it was a suicide mission. He did it because he knew he could not control you anymore, he knew that even their fucking chemicals weren’t strong enough.”

It all made perfect sense to me then. That Hydra agent had been waiting for me, he was sent to kill me. Everything made sense now. I had begun remembering; reverting, in the Red Room, that’s why Barnes was sent away. Hydra didn’t want to risk one of their assets getting out of containment, they were all in on it. It was all there, readily available to me in my memories, jumbled, but there when I looked for it. It all felt so overwhelming.

“God, he’s an asshole.” I murmured.

When I looked back at Yelena her eyes were gleaming with the tears that now made a steady stream down her cheeks. A frown etched into her expression as she shoved me half-heartedly. “Why? Why couldn’t you just let me take some of the pain?”

“Because I love you!” The tears came before I could stop them, like torrential rain out of nowhere. “I know that I was never a part of you and Natasha’s little family in Ohio, but you were my family; both of you. I couldn’t let them do to you what they were doing to me.”  It was like a weight off my chest, as if those three words had set me free. My head was spinning from the high of it. It occurred to me that I’d never told someone I loved them before, never admitted to feeling so deeply for anyone, but then my newly acquired memories told me otherwise. I had said those words before, just not since before the Red Room. I had, however, felt them since.

Before I could process what was going on, Yelena pulled me into a tight embrace, barely allowing me space to breathe. I hesitated, arms twitching at my sides, inching forward before lowering again. After a moment of indecision, I stopped myself, taking a breath and wrapping my arms around her. When Natasha approached once more, smile on her face I yanked her forward by the hand and in a gesture that was not like me at all I embraced both of them at the same time.

“You are a part of our family.” Yelena murmured so quietly I would never have heard it if I weren’t this close.

“Сестры.” Natasha added.

Sisters.

“This is a very sweet moment.” I heard Alexei call, causing me to lift my head from Yelena’s shoulder to see him and a limping Melina.

My head was thumping, my entire body almost numb from the combined pains of the day, so much so that I didn’t catch a lot of the conversation between the four of them as I eased myself to sit on a rock and give my body a break. I did, however, hear tires on gravel as a line of God knows how many shiny SUVs approached.

“Here comes the cavalry.” Natasha said.

I huffed, pushing my hair out of my face. “Oh great.”

“So, what’s our plan?” Melina asked, looking between Nat and me.

Natasha turned toward the cars. “You guys go. I’ll stay.”

I shook my head, but it was Alexei who spoke first. “That’s insanity. We fight. We fight with you.”

“I’ll hold them off. You guys go.”

Her insistence caused the four of them to quickly descend into bickering. “Oh, for God’s sake, stop with the arguing I will throw up if I hear any more, honestly. You three go,” I gestured toward, Alexei, Yelena, and Melina – “I’ll stay with her. I mean if the four of you work it out, there may be some hope for the Avengers after all.” I teased, a soft smile crossing my lips.

“Okay, well, if you’re both leaving, then I guess you should take this. I know how much you liked it.” She unzipped her special vest, handing it over to Natasha. “You can take turns wearing it.”

I snorted as Nat fiddled with it. “Shucks. It does have a lot of pockets.” She reached into the pocket and pulled out the one remaining vial, handing it over to Yelena along with a copy of Dreykov’s files. “He had widows implanted all over the world. Melina will need to copy the formula, but you should be the one to tell them it’s over.”

In the distance I saw a jet land and the doors opened to reveal the widows who’d been in the tower. Melina, Yelena and Alexei all approached, bringing Antonia with them as they boarded. Melina turned back as she stepped aboard glancing at me briefly. I nodded at her once, a simple gesture but I knew she understood the meaning behind it.

It did not need to be spoken; it was a shared truth. After all, we were two sides of the same coin. I did not need to tell her that I understood why she’d done everything she had, because she knew. With that she turned and closed the door.

I looked over at Natasha who’d come to sit beside me. “You’re not going to try to talk me out of staying?”

“Oh, I thought I should probably just save my breath, you wouldn’t have listened anyway and I’m pretty sure we’re going to have enough talking to do when Ross arrives.”

I nodded in agreeance. Looking out at the SUVs that were now pulling up before us. An absurd number of agents piling out, heavily armed, all weapons trained on us. As they began moving toward us, we both put our hands up and I glanced at the red head beside me from the corner of my eye. “I remember, Natasha, I remember everything.”

Chapter Text

Every part of my body ached, inside and out; the pain felt as though it were radiating from me. I caught sight of my reflection in a window outside the apartment building. A combination of soot and dirt was caked on my skin, separated by streaks of red where the blood had dried against my complexion. My blood and others. I looked almost as exhausted as I felt, dark circles underlining my eyes. This weariness encouraged me to ignore my troubling appearance and simply push on into the building and up the flight of stairs which felt unusually innumerable today. When I finally made it to my floor I was walking at a snail’s pace, not quite hobbling, but certainly sluggish. The thought of collapsing atop my bed was unbelievably appealing right now, even more so than the prospect of food. These thoughts were what allowed me to push through the culminated pains and reach the end of the hallway where the door to my apartment/ safe house sat ajar. My entire being paused as I registered it. That door had, without a doubt been closed and locked before I’d left for Budapest. 

I was so very tired, so very sick of fighting, of conflict. After we’d hashed things out with Ross, and by that, I mean exchanged information about the Red Room for our freedom, I thought we were in the clear. At least for now. With a defeated sigh I pushed the door weakly, prompting it to swing further open. In the doorway my movements halted, and I became still once more. The afternoon sun was drifting through the partially drawn blinds, drawing intricate patterns across the floorboards and bathing the room in its light. In the middle of it all stood a familiar figure. His head turned the moment the door opened, body following suit. Then his eyes met mine for the first time in so many months.

It was as though my feet were glued to where they stood, immovable. In his hands he held a photograph; the one I’d pulled from the drawer of my nightstand before fleeing the compound. One of two pictures I’d brought with me. One, the picture of Natasha and I, the other was an image captured by Wanda on the morning of Christmas Eve. I sat on the couch, unaware of the camera sneakily pointed toward me as I leaned into Pietro’s side, looking up at him as he spoke in a hushed tone to me. I was wearing a knitted Christmas jumper that Pietro had bought for me, it was dark blue with a snowman in a Santa hat embroidered on the front. At first, I’d grimaced when he’d held the soft material up before my eyes. Disdain heavy on my tongue, however, I knew that I was leaving the following morning, and I knew that he’d be devastated by my keeping it from him. That and the look on his very pretty face made it impossible to do anything but take the jumper from his hands and pull it on.

For a moment, as exhaustion clouded my mind, I expected him to be mean; waited to hear his resentment. However, as I watched him take in my appearance, eyebrows drawn together while concern etched itself into his features I recalled, in great detail the letter he’d written to me.

There will only ever be you, Nadia.

For as long as I live and every moment after.

My heart stuttered as I looked at him, cradling my arms around myself in an attempt to soothe my aching muscles.

He took a few steps towards me, reaching out as he opened his mouth to speak but our voices intertwined as we both spoke in unison. “Sorry, you first.” We both spoke again.

I closed my mouth, looking at my feet then.

“Are you okay?” He asked and this time it was only his voice.

My eyes returned to his as I nodded softly. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He blinked slowly, his jaw flexing. “You don’t look okay.”

“Well, that’s a little rude.” It came so easily to me, the gentle taunts. I hadn’t even really meant to let it slip.

Pietro didn’t respond, just continued to watch me as if he was both disbelieving that I was really here and also worried I’d run off if he made any sudden movements. Despite this, he took another few steps forward. “I wrote you a letter… I don’t know if you got it or-”

“I did.”

He nodded. “Did you read it?” A beat of silence passed between us before he quickly added. “It’s okay if you didn’t.”

“I did.”

Pietro nodded, yet again. “Okay.” He murmured, still staring at me, still not moving. My heart thumped steadily in my chest. It had been a really long day, and I was feeling rather delicate, so conversation was not exactly flowing from me. Yet, I still wanted to hear his voice. “You are very good at disappearing, really, it took a really long time to find you and even then, I honestly only found you because of Anna… I begged her for weeks to tell me where you were, and I know she didn’t know but I think I annoyed her so much that she had to find you just to shut me up. I really did ask her a lot of times, it was kind of embarrassing to be honest, you would have thought it was super pathet-”

“I love you too.”

Four simple words, yet they silenced his rambling instantly. He stood before me, mouth open like he was short circuiting. It was much easier to say it the second time, maybe it really had freed me telling Yelena that I loved her. Or maybe it was so easy because it was the truth, one I’d known for a very long time, even if I did not fully understand it before. “Yo-you…” He stuttered breathily.

“I love you, Pietro.” I repeated, a little quieter, my voice shaking was the first indication that I was crying. Then I felt the tears stinging my eyes. Within a single moment he had crossed the remaining distance between us, pulling me into his arms just before my legs gave out. He pulled me into him fully, as if more than happy to carry my weight.

“I love you, Nadia.” He spoke against my hair, brushing it back out of my face as he embraced me even tighter. Kissing the side of my head again and again “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything. I love you so much, I’m sorry.”

 I cried harder as he apologized, gripping the back of his shirt. He pulled back to cradle my face in his hands and examined it, brushing a thumb over the cut on my cheekbone before wiping the tears away, though it was mostly pointless as they continued anyway.

“It has been a really long day.” I managed to get out, leaning my forehead against his. “You have no idea how glad I am that you’re here... I really needed you.” It was not an easy thing for me to admit, in fact it was almost harder to say that than to say the L word. Pietro being here was like divine timing, it baffled me that even after everything, he managed to arrive right when I needed him most. It only solidified how I felt for him.

He held me tighter, pressing his forehead against mine for a long moment. Then, he pulled away ever so slightly, just enough to tilt my head up to look at him and pressed his lips to mine for the first time in months; and for just a moment it was the only thing that existed. All the pains of the day, the exhaustion and the overwhelming rollercoaster of emotions that I’d ridden, all of it ceased to exist. For just one perfect moment, there was only him. However, when it was over all of the heaviness of the day crashed back down onto me so quickly my knees almost buckled again. Pietro caught me but even leaning against him hurt right now. “Do you want to sit?” He asked before I had the chance to ask. I immediately nodded, and began to move toward the sofa the was pushed against a wall but Pietro pulled me back, swiftly lifting me into his arms and carrying me toward the bathroom, only letting go to sit me on the bench beside the sink. He turned to search through the cupboards, selecting various items and placing them beside me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He glanced back at me over his shoulder, raised eyebrow. “Have you looked in a mirror recently?”

I pursed my lips at his sassy tone. “Why, do I look bad?” I taunted. He sighed exasperatedly before walking out of the room. I felt my heart skip a beat for a moment, fear creeping up my spine the second he was out of my sight. Without a thought for the agony my body was in I began climbing down from the bench to follow him but in second he was back with a displeased expression on his face at me now standing.

“Really?” Even in his scolding there was gentleness. “You couldn’t do as you’re told for 5 seconds?” It was his turn to taunt now.

I opened and closed my mouth a couple times, seeking a sarcastic reply but anxiety was making a home in the pit of my stomach now. “I just wanted to know where you were going.” My voice was quiet, tired, vulnerable too.

His expression immediately softened, and he moved to stand right before me. “I just went to get this.” He held up the first aid kit for me to see before placing it atop the toilet lid. “It’s probably best you shower first anyway, there’s a lot of blood and…” His sentence trailed off and he swallowed heavily, as if unable to continue. Pietro moved past me, turning on the shower faucet and adjusting the knobs until it was a good temperature. He looked toward the door and then back at me. “I’ll just uhm… do you want me to-”

I caught his hand before he could go anywhere, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence “Stay… I want you to stay, please.” When he still didn’t move, I pulled him back to me, so close that our chests were almost grazing. I carefully began to unfasten the top of my suit, wincing as I lifted my arms. His warm hands against my skin almost caused me to jolt as he smoothed the fabric over my down my body until it sat at my hips. When my top half was bare, his eyes immediately fell to the array of dark bruises that covered my ribs and torso, it was like all the air was sucked out of the room.

“Nadia.” He breathed.

I just took his hand and squeezed it, nodding, even as my bottom lip trembled. “It’s okay.” I managed to get out, reaching to push the suit over my hips and down my legs, he helped me step out of it and kicked it aside for me.

“No, It’s not.”

Without responding, I slipped off my undergarments and disappeared behind the curtain, the spray of hot water an instant ailment to my aching body. I sighed with relief, letting the water wash away all of the bad. When there was no movement from the other side of the curtain, I stuck my hand out, palm up; an invitation. After a long moment of nothing I heard the shuffle of clothes and then Pietro’s warm hand filled my palm, and he stepped into the water with me. We didn’t talk, just stood letting the water soothe every pain. When I picked up the soap he took it from me, wordlessly beginning to wash the stubborn remnants of blood and debris from my body. When I was clean, he turned me to face the wall and massaged shampoo into my scalp and then conditioner. Still, neither of us spoke. Though, a steady stream of tears fell down my cheeks.

Afterwards, he wrapped me in a towel and lifted me to sit on the sink once again. Beginning to sift through the first aid kit. “How did you even know there was a first aid kit?” My words sounded so very loud in the previously silent room.

“I had a little time before you got back.” He spoke turning to dab an alcohol wipe against the cut on my cheek.

“Snoop.” I murmured, causing the corners of his lips to curve upward. The second the fabric touched my wound I closed my eyes tightly, fighting the wince. His hand fell over my thigh, squeezing gently, a distraction. My hand wrapped around his wrist as he continued to clean my wounds.

“Your hair is different.” Pietro notes as he tucked a strand behind my ear.

I hummed. “Thought it’d be easier to fly under the radar if I looked different. Do you like it?”

“It’s cute, but I like everything on you so maybe I’m a little biased.” I felt my cheeks heat up at his words, yet I still snorted at his cheesiness. “What about you, do you like it?”

A beat of silence passed between us and then I looked over my shoulder, into the mirror. “I don’t know… It’s okay, I guess I just don’t really look like me.” It was not lost on me how ironic that statement was, given everything that had come to light over the past few weeks.

When Pietro was done tending to my wounds, he threw the bloodied alcohol wipes and gauze into the bin and helped me down from the bench before immediately pulling me into his arms again. He refused to let me walk on my own two feet, something that I would’ve called out had I not been so utterly exhausted. The plush softness of the bed felt like paradise, and it was exceedingly hard to remain conscious as I slipped beneath the sheets. After a moment of hesitation, Pietro laid down beside me, both of us facing each other. His eyes drew an invisible path across my features, studying them intently as if he re-mapping my face. I could tell he was lingering over my injuries.

“Can we talk about whatever happened now?” The question sat heavy in the air between us, my lack of immediate response prompted him to continue. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’d really like to hear about it.”

I allowed my eyes to trace upward from the curve of his jaw to his normally sparkling eyes, that were now darker, heavier as he gazed at me. With a heavy swallow I internally recounted everything that had happened since I’d seen him last. When I blinked, I felt sure I could feel Dreykov’s fist slamming into my jaw so hard I could taste my own blood. Then it was the array of boots cracking against my ribs. The warmth of Pietro’s hand enveloping mine brought me back to reality, that was also when I realized that my hands were trembling. I swallowed again.

“I found out a week ago that the Red Room was still operating and Dreykov was alive.” It was like I could feel the air shift in real time; the stillness that overtook Pietro at my words. “He was still taking girls, still filling them with chemicals and turning them into killers… All of this time he’d been alive.” When the stinging in my eyes returned, I did not bother to fight it, didn’t attempt to hide from the man before me.

“Nadia.”

“For years… for years the Red Room was functional, and I didn’t do a thing to stop it, I just lived in blissful ignorance, lucky me…”

Pietro squeezed my hand, his other coming to stroke my cheek, wiping the tears. “No. You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have known!” He pulled me even closer to him, allowing me to bury my head in his chest and just sob while he caressed my hair. “I should hav- should have…” I could barely get the words out over the tears, so I stopped trying. Through all of it he held me tightly, never letting go for even a moment.

“Nadia.” He murmured against my hair. “It isn’t your fault, none of it is your fault. If you’d have known you would have stopped it, you would have. You didn’t know, please don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.” He just kept repeating it like a mantra. “What else happened?” He spoke when my crying had calmed down. I think maybe somehow, he knew I needed to get it out, needed to tell someone.

I took a shaky breath, turning my head slightly so that my voice wasn’t completely swallowed by his chest. “I couldn’t let it happen anymore. We destroyed it, Natasha, Yelena and I destroyed all of it.”

“Yelena?”

I nodded. “We grew up together in the Red Room, she’s the one who told us that it was still running.

“So, it is done now?” He asked, still threading his fingers through my hair. “He’s gone?”

“He’s gone.” I breathed. It was like a realization as much as it was an admission. Dreykov was gone, the Red Room was gone and this time I got to see it, got to be a part of it. I destroyed the prison they’d locked me in. It was done.

Pietro lifted my head so that he could look me in the eyes. “See, you did do something. Once you knew, you stopped it.”

I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my cheek to his chest and allowing my eyes to close. The first real moment of rest; of respite that I’d know in months.

The morning sun that filtered through around the curtains the next morning felt brighter than usual, practically blinding me as my eyes cracked open. There was an intense ache within my body that made it difficult to move, but I pushed through regardless. My hand ran over the space beside me, smoothing across the expanse of sheets that were now cold and empty. The realization that I was alone had me shooting up in bed, scanning the room to find it devoid of anyone else. I ignored the pain that shot through my limbs as I scrambled out of bed, pulling a loose blanket around myself to fight the early morning chill.

The floorboards creaking beneath my feet felt much louder now that the apartment was empty. I searched every corner of the space, barely breathing, a pit in my stomach. Had I imagined it? Was this all an elaborate ruse cooked up by exhaustion fueled delirium, a painfully vivid dream. But then I saw the picture of Pietro and I sitting atop the counter where he’d left it, the first aid kit beside it. Evidently, he had been here. Meaning at some point whilst I slept, he had left. The dread remained, pooling within me.

For some reason I found myself recalling another time when I’d felt like this, it felt like a lifetime ago.

The venomous words sprung to mind, covering me, threatening to suffocate me.

“You’re a child.” He seemed mad but I wasn’t sure why. “We’re not friends, wasting my night babysitting you is not exactly my idea of fun.”

I felt the stinging in my eyes despite my attempts to scowl at him. He turned away from me as the first drop fell. “Fine, go to your stupid party, see if I care.”

He didn’t leave right away, his head hung between his shoulders, shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes. I stood; arms crossed tightly over my chest as I attempted to shoot him my angriest glare. Still, he didn’t move, silence sat heavy in the air for another long moment before he finally pulled the door open and crossed the threshold.

The click of the door shutting brought me back to the present, silver hair filling my line of sight at Pietro hung his coat and turned to face me.

“Morning.” He smiled gently at me, though, his face fell when he took in my expression. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, wrapping the blanket tighter around myself. “I just… thought you left.”

He shook his head, moving closer. “I did, but only to get these.” He held up a bag of what smelled like pastries. “I was guessing you’d be hungry when you woke up and there’s nothing really in the fridge.” He reached out toward me then, palm facing upward, an invitation. When my hand landed in his palm, he smoothed his thumb over my knuckles before pulling me into him until we were chest to chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips were soft like they always were, the first kiss he pressed against my lips was soft, lingering, one filled with warmth; quiet devotion. The next kiss was more urgent, he tilted his head, claiming my mouth again and again, desperate, as if trying to make up for all the time we had been apart. Pietro pulled me further against him, one hand delving into my hair while the other sat over my lower back. I felt like I was on fire, melting into him with more with every passing moment. It was Pietro who broke the kiss, though I felt like I was still under some kind of spell, leaning back toward him, eyes fluttering. He smiled cheekily at me, taking a hold of my jaw in one of his hands, squishing my cheeks slightly as he tilted my head up to look him in the eyes. Without looking away he grabbed the bag of pastries and dangled it before me. “Eat.”

My lips curved upward at him, and I sighed exasperatedly. “So bossy.”

Pietro snorted as he plated the apple strudel that he’d pulled from the bag before sliding it across the bench toward me and taking a large bit of his own. We ate in silence, though our eyes never left each other for long and at some point, his hand had slid across the counter to lay over mine. I didn’t have to think about it, I just reacted, spreading my fingers apart so that his could intertwine through them. Neither of us let go for even a second.

Rain pitter-pattered against the windows, blanketing the sounds of the rest of the world, encasing us in the soothing sound of rivulets descending glass. It was as though we existed separately to everything else, as if this small apartment was another world, one that was only comprised of us. Here, all else ceased to exist. There was no Red Room, no Dreykov no politics or obligation to anyone, no responsibilities weighing down on us. For once, there was nothing but Pietro and me. It was absolutely perfect.

He cooked dinner for us with ingredients he must have picked up when he was out. Vegetable soup that filled the space with its delicious aroma and warmed us up despite the slight chill that the rain had brought.

In the evening, I sat cross legged on the bed while he stood before me, gazing adoringly over my form.

Still, I held his hand.

He looked down at the place where we were connected as I ran the pad of my thumb over his knuckles. Then he met my eyes, and I tugged slightly on his hand, bringing him closer to me. When his legs grazed the side of the bed I moved upward, onto my knees so that I could kiss him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. Pietro’s hands travelled from my hips down to my mid-thigh where his shirt, that I was wearing, ended. They lingered there for a moment, fingertips tracing the bare flesh, before he dragged them back up, bunching the shirt around my hips as he moved, squeezing my sides to pull me flush against him. At this point we were breathing each other’s air as the tension left us panting.

(MDNI)

“Take it off.” I murmured against his lips.

He did not need to be told twice, yanking the fabric over my head and throwing it across the room, where his own shirt soon followed. I laid back on the bed, bringing him with me. His kisses grew bolder, lips parting mine, his tongue sweeping over my own. Every touch, every lingering stroke of his lips, sent heat pooling low in my stomach, making me dizzy with the feelings coursing through me. “You know, when you told me you loved me at the compound… I loved you then too, just didn’t know the words to say it back.”

Pietro’s fingers trailed along my arm, featherlight, sending a shiver down my spine. He smiled at me as I breathed his name softly, my hand slipped into his hair, tugging ever so slightly. His lips travelled over my cheek, tracing a path down my jaw and neck, eyes flicking up to meet mine as he slid my underwear down, kissing the expanse of my thighs as he did, lips tracing gently over the bruises that darkened my flesh. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?”

I sat up then, pulling him back to me. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

He went easily as I pushed him to sit on the mattress, slotting my legs over his hips to straddle him. He lifted both of us easily to slide his briefs off, holding my hips up slightly as he readjusted beneath me. I could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into my thigh and I had never felt so sure of anything in my life as I sunk down onto him. Pietro’s forehead fell against mine, grip tightening around my hips. A breathy groan falling from his lips.

“I love you.” He breathed out, pulling my hips down harder against him. My head fell back, and I moaned out, squeezing his shoulder as the pleasure engulfed me. I only remained above him for a few more moments before he flipped up over and thrusted into me, slow but powerful. My legs tightened around his hips as he pressed kissed against my throat, hand smoothing over my hip and stomach to hold my breast, squeezing the flesh in his palm. He spoke my name against my flesh and something about it felt sacred.

“I love you, Pietro.” I responded wrapped so completely around him it was hard to say where he started, and I ended.

Chapter Text

I stared at myself in the mirror, unable to tear my eyes away as the hair stylist blow-dried my hair. The dark brown was long gone, and I looked like myself again, well myself with shorter dirty blonde hair. The image I’d seen from before my mutations flickered through my mind, I fiddled with my fingers as I thought of it.

Wind dancing over the flushed skin on my cheeks, hair gliding with the breeze. Sitting in the back seat of the car with top down as we drove up the coast.

“You got a cute way of talking,” I sang in a funny voice like the man on the radio.

“God, can we please skip this song.” Came a grumble from beside me. A glance to my left revealed the familiar head of shaggy brown hair. He was looking out at the water; arms crossed over his chest.

He seemed… angry?

Yes. He was angry, I remember. I could hear it as if it were happening in real time. The argument he’d had with our father about not wanting to go on this trip.

I’d been sitting on the sofa with a book in my hands when the fight became loud enough for me to make out. It wasn’t uncommon for them to argue. In fact, it seemed to have become a constant in this house.

“This is such bullshit!”

That had set dad off. “You do not speak to me like that under my own roof!”

“That’s just it, I don’t wanna be under your roof. I would rather be literally anywhere else.”

A scoff then dad was yelling again. “Is that right? You’d rather be doing what? Blowing off class to go to another party full of drunk kids with nothing in their head and no futures?”

“I don’t know, dad, but I sure as shit don’t wanna go on another one of your pity trips. You know if you just acted like you gave a shit about something other than work for 5 minutes we wouldn’t have to keep doing these stupid family bonding exercises. It’d save you a whole lot of time and money.”

I pulled on the headphones my brother had left on the couch plugging them into his discman and burying my nose further into the book.

For so long I’d felt empty and lost without my memories but now that I had them back, I was just so exhausted by how muddled they felt. I remembered all these things, but it was still so hard to place it in time and space. Everything was so out of order.

I tried to think about being in the car again. He asked to skip the song, what had he said next?

“I’d rather sit in silence then listen to this stupid song again.”

No. That isn’t right, it’s what he said but someone else spoke first.

“God, can we please skip this song.” He huffed.

I was the one to speak first. “No, I love this song!”

“This is the worst song ever.”

“You’re the worst song ever.” I responded sassily.

He still didn’t look at me, and the silly taunt did little to brighten his sour mood. “I’d rather sit in silence then listen to this stupid song again.” No one spoke then. I saw our dad’s knuckles turn white with how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel and my mother just rubbed at her temples with a heavy sigh.

Pietro was waiting for me in front of the salon when I walked out, eyes skimming the contents of the folded newspaper he held in his hands. His eyes momentarily flickered up before going back to the paper. I saw the exact moment it registered in his mind that I was standing before him, he froze, eyes slowly trailing back up to gaze upon me. The corners of my lips tugged upward as I crossed my arms over my chest, raising a solitary eyebrow at him as I awaited his verbal response.

“Well?”

A sweet smile curved over his lips. “I like it.” His words were laced with that familiar cheekiness that made it impossible not to feel giggly and flushed. “A lot.” He added, rolling the newspaper up and shoving it into his back pocket as he began toward me. “Welcome back, my beautiful prinţesă.”

I rolled my eyes at him, turning to walk off toward the park just ahead of us. He caught me immediately, pulling me back into his chest and pressing several kisses against my cheek and neck. “Pietro! We are in public.” I attempted to scold despite my laughter.

He pulled back but didn’t let go, eyes narrowed at me. “And? Why so worried? Are you trying to hide me from your boyfriend?” He spoke, very serious as he evidently fought back a grin. I shoved him in the shoulder.

“You’re such a loser.” I teased attempting to wriggle out of his grip.

He scoffed. “Well, what does that say about you? You’re the one who is very very in love with this loser.” 

“You’re right, I should probably re-evaluate my life choices.”

Pietro pinched my side at the taunt. “Did you just admit that I was right about something?”

“Yeah, you should soak it in, it’s not very often you are right.” I swallowed my giggles as he pinched me again, but this time on the bum. “You are a child.” I swatted his hands away, still fighting to get free but he only tightened his grip. Our little wrestling match ended with both of us tumbling onto the snow-covered grass. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” I teased, feigning a sigh.

He huffed a laugh beside me, making me roll my eyes before he’d even spoken. “I can think of a few things.” He murmured. I’d walked right into that one.

“You are very annoying, Pietro.”

He sat up, glancing at me momentarily before rolling on top of me with a dramatic sigh. “I don’t know how you do it, really, it must be very hard to have such a handsome, loving, sweet… and did I mention incredibly attractive? Boyfriend.”

“Well, life up until now has pretty much just been peachy rainbows so I guess I’ve got to find something to complain about.” I bit back a smile. He moved to rest his forearms by my head, causing him to hover not much more than a breath away from me.

Then he pressed a very soft kiss to my lips, when he pulled back the amusement was pretty much completely gone from his expression. “Does it still make you uncomfortable to be this close… to be touched?” I didn’t reply right away, taken aback by his question and the tenderness that coated the words. My silence prompted him to add. “You can tell me the truth I wouldn’t be upset… I mean I kind of would because I don’t ever want you to feel uncomfortable, I just mean that I’d understand.” He swallowed heavily in the wake of his rambling, eyes straying from mine for a moment.

I considered his question for a beat. My hand smoothing over his coat covered bicep, gently dragging upward toward his face. “Not when it’s you.” Was my simple reply.

His eyes met mine again then and he brushed some hair from my cheek, a tender smile falling over his lips.

“Jeez, get a room.” A familiar voice called out; amusement evident in her words. When I looked over, I saw Natasha leaning against a tree, arms crossed over her chest, that utterly recognizable purse-lipped smile present on her lips. “Well, I guess that’s one less visit we need to make.” I furrowed my eyebrows at her, Pietro rolling off me before offering me a hand up.

Back at the apartment I brewed Natasha a cup of coffee as she warmed herself up by the radiator. Pietro was sitting on a stool watching me intently as he bounced his leg. A symptom I’d noticed him display whenever he was forced to sit still for too long, or rather when he was unable to use his enhancements for a while.

“My contacts have given me the coordinates of the offshore site where Ross put the others, so, I say we take a little trip and spring them then divide and conquer, one of us talks to Steve and the other goes to Tony, then hopefully we can get them back into the same room, so they talk to each other.” Nat spoke as if it was no big deal, as if it were a typical day. Though, considering how the last couple months had unfolded I guess it wasn’t that out of the ordinary for us.

“Okay, dibs on Steve.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed; amusement evident on her expression. “Nice try, Nads, but you and I both know that Steve isn’t the only one who needs to clear the air with Stark for this to work.”

I sighed exasperatedly, rolling my eyes for added emphasis. “This is going to be such a pain in the ass.” I groaned.

“But you were totally fine with the whole, breaking into a maximum-security government facility to release prisoners, thing?” Pietro questioned.

“Yes, exactly.” I responded as if it were obvious.

There was a hum of nervous energy that filled the apartment after Natasha left, at first, I thought it was just me until I walked out of the bedroom to find the blur of Pietro borderline pacing a hole into the floorboards. I called his name, but he didn’t hear me over his movements. The situation actually had me rather stumped, he was verbally unresponsive and stepping into the blur seemed a recipe for disaster given the speed at which he was moving right now. So, I did the only thing that came to mind and threw a soft couch cushion into the center.

When he finally came to a halt he wore a confused look, holding the cushion in his hands. “What was that for?”

“Well, for one, a Pietro sized hole in the floor might be hard to explain and you didn’t respond when I called out to you so, I went with the natural second option.” I gestured toward the item in his hands. He glanced down at it before his eyes trailed back up to meet mine again, it was evident by the look in his eyes that he was a million miles away right now. “What are you thinking about?” I approached slowly, taking the pillow and tossing it back onto the couch. When I saw how his hands immediately began to fidget, I offered one of my own for him to hold. He took it gently, fingers eclipsing mine and enfolding around me as he exhaled heavily.

“I haven’t spoken to my sister since we all fought. I-I tried to reach out, to visit her, Tony got Ross to agree and everything… but she wouldn’t see me, and I don’t blame her.”

“Pietro…” I murmured when I was, how glassy his eyes had become.

He shook his head. “I let them arrest her, my own sister. I only wanted to do what was right and instead I just let my guilt blind me.”

I took his face in my hands, tilting his head so he was looking at me. “None of us know exactly what is right all the time, we just try our best and sometimes we’re wrong, that’s what makes us human. We were all just doing what we felt was right. Wanda will forgive you eventually, but the first step in the right direction is showing her that you’re on her side now.”

His forehead rested against mine and his eyes fell shut. “Sometimes it feels like I’m wrong more than I’m right.”

I wrapped my arms around him, and he melted easily into my embrace, head pressing into the crook of my neck. “It doesn’t all fall on your shoulders, Piet, this is not a normal job that we do. There aren’t a lot of people who have to make a call about what’s best for the greater good every other day of the week.”

His chest rumbled slightly against mine as he let out a small laugh.

…

It was a 2-hour drive to the airstrip Natasha had told us about, I spent a lot of the trip silently lost in thought. There were some pieces of my memory that stuck out to me more than others, like they were calling out to me, begging me to let them live freely in my mind. I just couldn’t figure out why. This was particularly puzzling to me as my mind seemed intent on making me relive the months I’d spent with Hydra. I supposed that it had been the starting point of all this so maybe that’s why it felt so integral right now. I allowed myself to sit with it, fading into the memories with the hope that their significance would be revealed.

The walls were white, padded, windowless. There was a metal chair in the center surrounded by machines that I didn’t understand. The chair looked like it was out of an old-school dentist’s office, only it was adorned with restraints. I remember being strapped down to it, the strain on my wrists as I thrashed, the band that went around my forehead so I could do nothing but stare straight ahead at the screen wheeled before me.

I smoothed my fingertips over the marks left where the restraints had rubbed my wrists raw. The room they put me in was dark and damp. Goosebumps rose across my skin from the cold that I was still unused to. There was little to do in the dull quiet of my cell but wait. Though, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was waiting for. The next session? Another punishment? Maybe death. At that age I didn’t even fully understand the concept.

“Who are you.” I spoke into the darkness surrounding the room. I knew he was there, lingering just out of my line of sight. He was always there, I just didn’t know why. There was no verbal response, though there was movement. “I know you’re there…” I stood then, walking slowly toward the bars that imprisoned me. “Will you tell me your name… please, no one talks to me when I’m not in that room.” I murmured the last part. His boots were the first thing I saw when he moved forward, they were covered in dried mud and dust. When he took another step forward into the dim light I saw his face, long brown hair and a steely gaze. I held the bars tightly as he took another step, the light glinting off of his left arm that was made entirely of metal. “Who are you.” I repeated, a little quieter now.

The Winter Soldier.

That’s what I’d eventually come to know him as before he told me his real name, that was much later though. I remembered it all, the days when he would sit by my cell and listen to me talk. He’d rarely asked spoke, generally the only response I got from him was a quiet grunt. However, he’d always come, day after day, whenever I called. He was different then, cold but not how he had been in the Red Room, no, in Serbia he was stoic but never cruel. I recalled the day he’d told me his real name, the evident shift in the air. The way his expression changed when I repeated the name, the tone of his voice wavering. He was reverting, I was making him; albeit unknowingly.

I told him I wasn’t sure what my name was.

“They tell me it’s Nadia.”

It occurred to me then, as I recalled all of this that when we’d met that first time, when I’d begged him to talk to me, that I wasn’t speaking Russian, nor was I speaking in a Russian accent; the accent I’d always believed was mine; the way I spoke now.

No. When I spoke to Barnes in Serbia, it was with an American accent.

I awoke to Pietro’s hand pushing hair out of my face and saying my name gently. “Wow, you were really conked out.”

A nod and a sheepish smile were my initial response before I murmured something about reserving energy for the mission ahead. We flew commercial back to New York, a strange feeling after months of sneaking around. I had to remind myself that Natasha and I were no longer on Ross’ shit list, though, I had a feeling that was going to change in about… 48 hours, give or take. Natasha was going to meet us there, taking a detour to get Steve before we went ahead with our plan to break into a maximum-security government facility and break out four of our friends who were now also considered criminals.

I didn’t get a wink of sleep on the nine-and-a-half-hour flight. It was evident that Pietro was still antsy to face his sister, and I was trying my best to be reassuring but my mind seemed intent on drifting to other matters. Despite my inability to sleep, the flight seemed to go by rather quickly, as though I’d blinked and suddenly we were wandering down the light polluted streets of New York. Pietro and I hadn’t spoken much since landing, but we walked closely on the sidewalk, his body heat radiating onto me.

“Where are we going?” Pietro asked, eyebrows furrowed as he followed me down an alley between two high-rise brick apartment buildings.

I jumped up, grabbing the bottom rung of the ladder attached to a series of fire escapes. “My apartment. I left a few things there.” I responded nonchalantly, offering him a cheeky smile over my shoulder before beginning to climb further up the side of the building. When we reached the fourth floor I paused beside a familiar window, pulling a skinny pry bar from the back of my jeans.

Pietro caught my wrist gently before I could continue. “If it’s your apartment why the burglar tricks?”

I tilted my head side to side, glancing back at him once again. “Lost my keys?” I offered sheepishly before sliding the tool into the windowpane and using it to dislodge the latch. Once I heard the telltale click, I made quick work of opening it and sliding into the living room. “Plus, it’s technically government property so not mine anymore.” I added quietly.

He supplied me with an incredulous look. “You just made somewhat nice with Ross, why so determined to piss him off?”

 I shrugged. “I don’t feel like we were ever destined to be good friends.”

Pietro rolled his eyes, biting back a grin as he wandered into the bedroom and toward the closet. It was weird being here, the last time I’d stepped foot in this place was the morning I left to drop off some files to Fury at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters only to get jumped by a bunch of Hydra henchmen on my way in. This apartment was paid for by S.H.I.E.L.D. once I knew they were breached I’d ditched it pretty quickly.

“If this is government property, how do you even know your stuff will still be here?”

I pressed the palms of my hands against the small table in the entry way, shoving it out of the way. “Because they had no reason to look around back then.” I popped up the cut-out segment of floor and pulled the box from within, the commotion caught Pietro’s attention, bringing him back into the room. I tossed the lid aside pulling out the stack of fake passports, guns and burner phones to get to the jet-black tactical suit underneath. At the very bottom of the box was the item I was really here for, I pulled the small metal jammer from the box, looking it over to ensure it wasn’t damaged.

“What’s that?”

I met Pietro’s eyes as I grabbed the tac-suit and moved to my feet once more. “This, is how we are going to get into the Raft.” I stowed it in my jacket before beginning to strip off and change into the suit.

It still fit like a glove, like a second skin, one I wasn’t so sure belonged to me anymore; one I’d shed in a past life.

The moment it was on I recalled how I’d felt walking into S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ for the first time. The fancy glass offices, glossy tiled floors that Anna’s heels clicked against as she guided me to Nick Fury’s office. I wasn’t being forced to declare loyalty to them, that’s what they’d told me back then, but if I hadn’t it might become difficult to overlook my past indiscretions, my past affiliations. That’s what they said. I was nineteen the first time I’d donned this suit, and after the first assignment I’d come back to this apartment and laid silently against the floorboards, not in the plush bed or on the strangely boxy couch; the cold, hard ground. I’d curled up in a ball and pressed my head into my knees, eyes shut tightly as I told myself over and over again that I had gotten out, this wasn’t the Red Room, Fury wasn’t Dreykov and this was different. It was different. I knew that it was, but even so… I was still putting on a suit and doing what I was told. Steve hadn’t trusted me back then; he’d told me himself. It was because I wasn’t forthcoming, he said I always had an additional agenda that I refused to share. That wasn’t really true though, Nick was the one with the agenda, I was just the agent tasked with carrying it out, either me or Natasha. Half of the time I didn’t even know what the real mission was, despite all my fancy clearances I was only doing what I was assigned to, part of that was keeping the things I did know to myself. I’d made it out of the Red Room, but I was still living the same lone wolf lifestyle. Barren apartment, more secrets than I could keep track of and not a single person who I could share every piece of my life with.

At least that part had changed, I thought as I tugged at the suit.

…

Thunder and lightning crackled across the skyline like a warning, rain pouring down on us as I pressed my back to the stone wall of the Raft, waiting for Pietro’s go-ahead over the comms. The plan had been laid, discussed by the four of us a few hours prior to our arrival here. Pietro would put one half of the jammer on the other side of the raft while I put the other half by this door, once their primary power is down Natasha and I will take out the secondary, then we’ll have ten to fifteen minutes to fight our way to the cells and get Wanda, Sam, Clint and the bug-guy out.

Loose hairs stuck to the side of my face as the rain hit my skin, I paid it no mind though, closing my eyes and attempting to steady my breathing. “You ready for this?” Nat asked, offering me a soft look from the other side of the entrance.

I nodded once, evidently tentative even in the cover of darkness. “Always.” I added as an extra reassure her.

She opened her mouth to respond but Pietro’s voice over the comms cut her off. “Primary power going down in 5...4…3…” I pressed myself further against the wall. Listening carefully to the countdown as my hand inched toward the door. “…2…1.”

I yanked the door open the second I heard the telltale click and ushered Steve and Nat inside. Within a millisecond a whisp of wind blew by me, pulling me into the prison and shutting the door behind us. Pietro stood in front of me with a small smile tugging at his lips. I squeezed his forearm once, a tender assurance.

“Two minutes.” I reminded the group as Natasha, and I diverted to find the control room whilst the boys went to locate the cells.

I dodged the first punch thrown by one of the marshals, incapacitating him easily and moving swiftly to the next. My mind drifted, as it often did to my childhood. I thought about genetic potential and the tests done in the Red Room to ensure I would be the perfect canvas for their wicked masterpiece. Then I thought of Dreykov’s constant proclamations that I was made to be a widow, made to be an assassin. It was hard to reconcile that with the version of myself I now had unlimited access to. The barefooted child wandering amongst pink and purple peonies and dancing around the living room to old records. An intangible gentleness seemed to emanate from that part of me. I hadn’t been given a choice, none of us had. We were forced to play a part in his cruel, debauched play. In those support groups I used to frequent, they’d often use the phrase victim of circumstance. I wondered what could have been if my circumstances were different. However, I still had genetic potential, didn’t that mean it really was in my DNA, just like Dreykov had told me.

It was like a familiar dance; one I couldn’t unlearn the steps to even if I wanted. Four marshals lay unconscious on the floor behind me as I moved quickly into the control room, incapacitating the technician who stood and attempted to dispel his weapon. Natasha watched my back as I gained access to the computer, quickly taking the secondary power source offline. I checked my watch as the lights dimmed, and alarms sounded throughout the facility. It had been five minutes since we’d entered the raft, right of schedule.

My thoughts were raucous yet still my movements were fluid, unrelenting, familiar in a way that had become engrained into the very coding of my being. We were in the midst of breaching one of the most secure facilities in the United States and yet most prominent emotion that I felt was utter, unadulterated boredom. It occurred to me that this is what I had spent the entirety of my life doing; fighting.

When Natasha and I rejoined Pietro and Steve there were only a handful of conscious marshals. Two of them managed to get a couple decent hits in but it didn’t take long for them to join their colleagues on the ground. I rushed forward to toss the ID card I’d swiped to Pietro who used his enhancement to scan it against all four of the target cells within a second. The transparent doors opened, Sam and Clint were the first to emerge from the cells, followed by Scott and lastly Wanda who offered a tight-lipped smile in our general direction but otherwise said nothing.

“What the hell took you guys so long?” Sam taunted, arms crossed over his chest.

I shrugged. “Well, you know, we’ve been living it up cocktails by the beach and all that.” I retorted, a smirk flashing over his face at the words. Nat pressed a hand to Clint’s shoulder and offered him a warm smile. I saw Pietro watching Wanda, a somber look in his eyes as she avoided his gaze. “Okay, we’ve got seven minutes max before that power goes back online and the cavalry arrives so the sappy catching up stuff is going to have to wait.” I intercepted, hoping that once we were out of here, the siblings would have some privacy to clear the air.

Steve nodded, evidently snapping back into leader mode and beginning to guide us back toward the exit. I parted from the group near the door, informing them that I was going to wipe the camera feeds while they boarded the stealth skiff. Pietro stopped abruptly turning toward me with furrowed eyebrows.

“That wasn’t a part of the plan.”

I shrugged. “Technically, it was I just didn’t want you to be worried ahead of time.”

“You’re not serious right now.” He spoke, frustration penetrating his tone. “What does it matter? Ross will assume it was us anyway, why bother with the extra step?”

“Assuming is a lot different to having evidence, I like to be thorough.”

He shook his head at me. “Nadia-”

“This is the mission, it isn’t finished until I wipe those feeds and right now we’re wasting time. You scold me to your hearts content later, I’ll see you on the skiff.” I spoke, rushing into the control room. He was still there, lingering a few paces behind me, I could feel his irritated energy. Honestly, it was a little amusing, but I knew he had every intention of riding my ass about this later. I made quick work of the camera feeds, practiced skill seeping from me as I wiped every tangible trace of us. When it was done, I turned to Pietro, but I didn’t get the chance to say a word as he picked me up unceremoniously and took off, planting me on my backside in the stealth skiff. The movement was surprisingly gentle despite the anger that was plain in his demeanor.

I knew, logically, that even without the camera feed, Ross would know it was us. The marshals had even seen us, when they were conscious, they would no doubt be lining up to describe exactly who had broken into the Raft. These were all things that I knew, yet, for some inexplicable reason I still needed to clear those tapes.

That was part of the mission, it couldn’t be called complete if I didn’t do that.

These thoughts echoed through my mind like a mantra, repetitious and maddening.

I should have been able to just leave it, but I couldn’t; never could. Every assignment I went on I had to complete the mission in its entirety even if that meant almost dying. Amsterdam came to mind. If we hadn’t gotten in that car wreck, I would have returned to our hotel room to collect the intel even though I knew we’d been breached by Hydra who very well could’ve been lying in wait for us to return.

I pulled at the suit again, feeling suffocated by it even as wind whipped through my hair and salt water sprayed up over the side of the speedboat.

Chapter Text

New York, 2014.

I caught Natasha’s arm, helping her slump against an abandoned car as I pressed down on her shoulder, attempting to stop the blood that was pooling from her wound. Crimson coated my palms when I pulled them back, glancing around to locate The Winter Soldier. Rage pulsed through me as I saw the pain flash over her features. She gripped my forearm then.

“Nadia, be careful.” I nodded, the words barely registering as I crept between cars, slowing to focus on my surroundings, surveying every sound that I heard.

It was a single footstep that cleared in my ears and then he halted, paused as if he knew I were listening. He’d already given himself away though, I crouched beside a car, peering through the window to find him in the middle of the road, head cocked to the side. He was observing, searching for me. With practiced precision I pulled the gun from my tactical pants and aimed at him from the other side of the window. A solitary sound bounced off of the otherwise silent street, the cocking of my gun. He whipped around instantly but I’d already fired, twice, one to break the window and one just for him. The bullet hit him in the shoulder, the spot just before his metal arm began, the same place his bullet had hit Natasha. He glanced at the wound before looking back in my direction and barrelling forward. Within seconds he’d launched himself onto the car to get to my side.

“Okay, let’s go.” I spoke, jumping to my feet and ducking under his arm before his fist could make contact. My forearm came up quickly to block his next strike and I moved to hit him with the barrel of my gun, but he caught it in his metal fist, squeezing until the weapon crumpled beneath his grip. I dropped what was left of it before using my now free hand to lock behind his head and pull it forward, slamming my knee into his nose.

He used his position to grab me around the waist pulling me to the ground and winding his arm back to hit me again. The pavement cracked where my body had previously been as his metal fist came down, narrowly missing me. He lashed out then, catching my shoulder mid-roll and throwing me into a car door that now, no doubt, had a me-shaped dent in it.

I moved quickly, ignoring the pain and flipping backward to land on the hood before hurling a widow’s byte at him. “I’m a little hurt you don’t remember me.” I spoke as he roared in pain and staggered a little. His distraction was the perfect opportunity for me to lunge forward, drawing twin blades and aiming for his joints. Knees, neck, the soft spot under the ribs. Flashes of silver danced in the heat of the fight, carving shallow lines on his metal arm and dark armor. Then I caught his flesh, slashing across his chest, proven by the now crimson tip of one of the blades. He grabbed my wrist twisting it sharply behind my back and using it to spin me around and pin my front to the hood of a car.

“I remember you, маленькая девочка.” Little girl. His voice was low and gravelly, a voice that still managed to make unease tingle through my every nerve ending, even after all this time. I planted my feet on the car’s hood and pushed off of it hard, launching my body weight back against him, causing him to stumble just enough for me to straighten and twist partially out of his hold. Before I could get a decent hit in, he’d grabbed me by the throat and slammed me back onto the hood of the car so hard the windscreen spiderwebbed around my body. I gasped in pain, struggling against him in vain as my muscles screamed at me. He hovered over me, leaning down close to my face as he asked. “Are you afraid now?” Then he blinked, once, as though he hadn’t meant to say it, wasn’t sure why he had.

My eyebrows knitted together as I observed him, not understanding his words nor why they made panic spring through me. I used his momentary pause to my advantage, swinging the one blade that I’d managed to cling onto and jamming it between the plates of his arm. When I felt it make purchase I pushed harder, twisting the knife as far as I could causing him to briefly lose control of him arm. The metal whirred before me, twisting and malfunctioning slightly. I planted my foot in the middle of his chest hard, pulling myself onto the roof of the car so that I could slide off. He stumbled back, yanking the knife from his arm and throwing it against the road before locking his gaze on me again. He didn’t get the chance to attack however as Steve entered the flight, throwing himself between my former mentor and I.

New York, present day.

My eyes opened and I stared up at the ceiling overhead, briefly glancing over to find Pietro had finally managed to fall asleep beside me. It had been a trying night, to say the least. Wanda was still refusing to talk to him and first thing in the morning she’d be shipping off to a safehouse somewhere. Likely, on a different continent to avoid Ross’ wrath.

My mind wandered back to that day, years ago now, when I’d come face to face with Barnes for the first time since the Red Room. The words he’d spoken clung to me like a second skin, echoing through my head.

I suppose, at the time, I did think it was strange… but then again, this was all happening in the midst of Hydra invading S.H.I.E.L.D. and Nick Fury faking his death, so I guess Barnes’ strange, seemingly unprompted question wasn’t chief amongst my concerns at the time. It also occurred to me that I was talking to the Winter Soldier in that moment, not Barnes.

As I laid there in the darkness, I thought of Serbia again. The comment I’d made when I was small that had for some reason stuck with him all that time.

“I’m not afraid of you.” I’d spoken into the darkness, my voice surprisingly even while my hands trembled at my sides. The end of my sentence had, however, turned breathy, because despite my attempt at bravado I had never been so frightened in my entire life. It was a fear that ran so deep through me I felt echoes of it in my bones.

My finger tapped gently against the duvet covering my stomach as thoughts continued to plague me. Why was I so stuck on this? It was as though my mind was intent on reminding me, recalling our every interaction over and over again as if there was something that I’d missed, as if it were integral to something I didn’t yet understand.

Why was I so frightened of him?

The one thought I couldn’t shake.

Sure, I was in a terrifying position. I’d been taken from my home, brought to an unfamiliar place in a foreign country where they planned to experiment on me; naturally a frightening concept. That much made sense… and yet, bothered me. Bothered me because I was strong, I was spiteful and iron-willed, and fear wasn’t the only thing I’d felt after my abduction.

No, I was mad; furious that every day they would force me to sit in that chair until my body ached and tell me who I was when I knew they were lying. That was why they’d punished me so many times, the electric shock that I’d remembered, the man in charge telling his assistant to turn up the voltage, to up the dosage of InfiltraX… it was a punishment because I didn’t believe them, and I made it known. Then, I was angry that the only other person I would see in that hellhole in Serbia was a brooding soldier who didn’t so much as utter a word to me for months.

He didn’t talk to me, but I talked to him, because he wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t cruel; he wasn’t particularly nice either, but he was a far cry from my other tormentors. So why was I so frightened of him?

My jaw hurt from grinding my teeth, unwittingly. I continued to tap the same finger, again and again. Then I took a deep breath, and I closed my eyes tightly, retracing the steps back through my mind because there was something within me, a small niggling voice that told me I was remembering it wrong. So, I did what Norris used to tell me.

I revisited the scene in my mind.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

I heard myself say, a void of darkness my only answer.

What could I smell?

Something floral, vanilla, patchouli? It was familiar, like perfume.

I heard a quiet, scratchy crackling sound and the more I concentrated on it the more the room came to life around me.

A dim light trickled throughout the room from a small lamp atop an ornate table, beside it was a leather armchair. Behind me lay a wall lined with deep mahogany bookshelves. I’d been here before, many times, both in my dreams and in my childhood. I tried to make out the titles of the books but they were all a little blurry even when I concentrated so hard it felt like my hair might fall out. Then, one of the books on the end became a little clearer. Bold letters inscribed over the spine began to take form. ‘Practical Quantum Mechanics’. I glanced over at the record player beside me, the vinyl was sitting on the plate, but the arm was resting stationery atop its stand. I lifted it, gently maneuvering it over to the now spinning record, the crackling sound echoed again for a few long seconds before music filled the space.

The same song, the one from the car, the one my brother didn’t want to listen to. The one I’d loved as a child, bouncing off the walls as the crash of the front door being destroyed filled my ears. The heavy footfalls approaching me; my heart thudding against my chest, curls falling into my eyes as I attempted to escape.

I remember the Hydra agent who’d put a bag over my head, his tattoo a dead giveaway of who’d sent him. Then I remember his impossibly strong colleague, the one who’d grabbed me and pinned me to the hard wood floors as I thrashed; unbothered by my tantrum or the various items of décor I’d launched toward him when he’d first chased me down the hallway. That night was a lot clearer now since the antidote had rained down on me in Dreykov’s office. Now, instead of being little more than a blurry, silent flash of action it was a complete recollection. The sound of my bare feet slapping against the floor as I’d run, barely making it to the next room and shoving the door closed before a hand slammed against the other side of it, a black boot jamming its way inside to stop it from fully closing. My weight against it did absolutely nothing as the man threw it open causing me to fall backward hard, scrambling away from him further into the darkness of the bathroom.

“I’m not afraid of you!” I shouted at him, my entire body shaking like a leaf. He lurched forward, grabbing my wrist and throwing me over his shoulder without ceremony. I hit and kicked and threw my body weight around desperately. It did little to deter him until I remembered my voice, screaming for help and calling out for three specific people. “Mommy! Daddy!” Then, louder, desperate, I’d shouted a final name.

My entire body tensed like I’d been electrocuted. My eyes shot open, and I clenched my hands into fists. Breath coming in stuttered gasps as I tried my best to remain quiet so as not to wake Pietro. I rolled over, shuffling closer to him and pressing my face into his shoulder. My heart was thudding heavily in my chest as if I were living the memory in this very moment. I pushed it all from my mind, squashed it down and pressed my face further into his shoulder. Pietro’s hand came slowly over my head, fingers running through my hair in a soothing movement. His head turned toward me slightly, cradling me against him. “Are you alright?” He asked softly, voice still thick with sleep.

I shut my eyes tightly, guilt blooming in my chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

His lips ghosted over my forehead as he responded earnestly. “It’s okay, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

He sighed slightly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Nadia.” Was his sole response. I burrowed my face further into his shoulder, but he cupped my cheek before sliding his hand under my chin and moving it back, so I was looking him. It wasn’t until I felt the coolness of the night air brushing the streams of liquid on my cheeks that I realized I’d been crying. His thumb brushed over my face, wiping the tears as a furrow formed between his eyebrows. “Tell me what’s going on.”

It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to know, I just didn’t want him to have even more things to worry about. “I-I…” I exhaled a shaky breath before closing my eyes and forcing the words out. “Hydra were using me as a test subject for a serum that they eventually gave to Dreykov for chemical conditioning in the Red Room, they gave it to me so many times before I was even a widow that my appearance mutated. Then they kept giving it to me in the Red Room when they thought I might be reverting… but a Widow from a previous generation had synthesized a cure to it. We had to use it in when we went back in to destroy the new facility and I, accidentally, ingested in.” I paused for a long moment then, glancing up to find Pietro listening intently to my words. Eyebrows raising slightly as if encouraging me to continue. “I didn’t… didn’t realize that I needed it, that it wasn’t just their psychological conditioning but what they were injecting me with that that made me forget every part of myself.” My voice cracked slightly but I forced the words out nonetheless, very aware that if I didn’t get it out now, I might never be able to. “When I took the cure, it made me remember… everything.”

Pietro sat up more fully then, taking my face in his hands; gentle as ever. “Nadia, that’s amazing…” A smile overtook his features, thumbs caressing my cheekbones as he paused, trailing off in though. “…Why didn’t you tell me?”

I swallowed heavily. “You just had so much to worry about already with your sister and I’d only just gotten you back, I didn’t want to give you another thing to worry about.” I spoke, voice trailing off toward the end.

He shook his head. “I don’t want you to keep things from me just because there are other things going on. You shouldn’t have to shoulder all of the burden; I don’t want you to, I want to take it on with you.” He pressed his lips to my forehead then. “I’m in this with you completely, you never have to deal with things alone… not anymore. I’m with you.

The stinging in my eyes returned tenfold. “Why do you have to be so perfect? It’s really annoying.” He kissed the tears from my cheeks, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me further into him. “Aren’t you pissed off at me for being reckless on the Raft, you should be giving me the silent treatment or yelling or something.”

“Do you want me to give you the silent treatment?” He asked and I pressed my face directly into his chest, huffing slightly before shaking my head slowly. He chuckled softly. “I’m not mad at you, Dragă mea.” My love. “I just want to keep you safe.” I shifted slightly so I could look up at his face. He smiled, just a little, as he gazed down at me. “Tell me about your memories.” I opened my mouth to protest, it wasn’t the right time, he had been so upset about Wanda, so exhausted when we’d returned… but he silenced my worries before the words ever made it past my lips. “I want to hear about it, please, it will distract me.”

I exhaled shakily as my eyes traced over his features, finding comfort in the familiar cut of his jaw, the blue of his eyes. “It’s a little complicated. Hydra pulled my brain apart and rewired it so many times that even now that I have my memories back, they aren’t quite right. They’re mostly out of order and it’s exhausting just trying to make sense of them.” He nodded, running his fingers through my hair soothingly. His other hand moving behind me to drag steadily over my back. “I remember being small and the sound of my mother’s voice… my father’s too, my brother’s smile, our house. There were two, one in the city and one near the ocean. I remember that my father worked a lot, and it made my mom and brother really sad. my mom grew peonies in her garden and always smelt faintly of Chanel No.5, it took me a while to figure that out, but I did. My dad collected vinyl records, and I’d sneak down and play them when my parents were out.” I didn’t try to stop the tears that dripped from my eyes now, letting them roll down my cheeks freely. My heart rate picked up a little as my mind wandered to the place it had been earlier. “I remember the night I was taken… the record I’d put on, the song that played as they grabbed me. I remember yelling out for my parents… and for my brother.”

Pietro’s arms tightened around me. That was how he fell asleep, cradling me tightly in his embrace. I surveyed his sleeping face, serene save for the slight furrow in his brow. I ran my fingers through his hair, brushing it back out of his face, his grip tightened just a little. For hours I laid there in his arms, watching him sleep as my brain worked overtime. In the early hours of the morning, when his arms had loosened around me due to how deeply sleep gripped him, I snuck out of the bed. Silent on my feet as I slipped from the room and toward the room Wanda and Nat were sharing.

Clint had left right away to go back to his family and Sam and Steve had disappeared into the night, I presumed Steve was headed wherever Barnes was and Sam was likely tagging along. It had left just, Nat, Wanda, Pietro and I at the unassuming motel.

I knocked gently on the door, leaning against the frame as I waited. A moment few moments later Wanda peaked out, hair disheveled from sleep. She widened the opening of the door slightly to allow me into the dimly lit room. “Where’s Nat?”

“Couldn’t sleep, said she was going for a walk.” Wanda responded. I nodded, wringing my hands together. “You’re welcome to wait in here for her.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

She exhaled deeply, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. “Did he really send you to do his dirty work?”

“He doesn’t even know I’m here, I swear… Look, the irony of me telling people to talk through their problems isn’t lost on me, but he really is devasted that he hurt you.” I ran a hand through my hair as I continued. “I’m not going to stand here and tell you that you need to forgive him I just think that you should talk to him before you go, for both of your sakes. It won’t make you feel any better to leave things like this. Trust me.”

She opened and closed her mouth several times. “He let me go to prison…”

“He made a bad choice, he knows that. Please, Wanda, just talk to him. If nothing else, just for your own piece of mind while your gone.”

She lay back on the bed, arm thrown over her eyes as she huffed. “I will let him speak to me, but I make no promises to forgive.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “That’s all I’m asking.”

I didn’t sleep, not even after I’d returned to the room and slipped back into the warm sanctuary of the bed. It hadn’t been long before Pietro found me once again, enfolding me in his arms. Still, I remained awake, stationary despite my raucous mind.

At some point his arms tightened their hold slightly and his head nuzzled into the crook of my neck, lips pressing a tender kiss there. The corners of my lips turned up slightly and I shifted back a little so I could meet his eyes. “Good morning, gorgeous.” He mumbled, the remaining grasp of sleep making his words come out a little slurred. I smoothed the hair back from his forehead. “What is going on in that pretty head of yours.” As he spoke, he moved to lean his cheek against his hand.

I rose an eyebrow at him. “From gorgeous to pretty, seems like kind of a demotion to me.”

He snickered slightly, tongue running over his lips briefly before he responded. “I think you know just how attractive I find you, Nadia, but...” His eyes trailed down over my neck and upper body. “I’m a firm believer that actions speak louder than words, so I’d be happy to remind you.” Pietro’s hand landed on my thigh, travelling upward until his fingertips were dragging over the soft skin of my abdomen. I bit my lip, goosebumps rising over my skin as his hand travelled further up my shirt. His lips brushed over mine as he reached the underside of my breasts.

A breathy sound slipped from my lips before I could stop it, he swallowed it quickly, pressing his lips fully against mine. The kiss was a little lazy but no less heated and his hand slipped further up my body, but I managed to catch his wrist before he got too far. His eyebrows furrowed as he moved back a whisper, expression doused in confusion. I shut my eyes tightly, forcing my mind to focus on the more important matter at hand rather than how warm his hand were and how close they’d been to touching me the way I wanted him to.

“I think you should go with your sister today while I drive back to the compound to talk to Tony.” I only opened my eyes when the words had left my lips. The muscle in his jaw feathered slightly and he glanced away for a long moment. “Pietro.” I said quietly. He didn’t respond, instead moving away to sit on the edge of the bed, back to me. My stomach churned with anxiety. I said his name again. “Please don’t ignore me.”

He shook his head, groaning slightly as it dropped into his hands. “I’m not ignoring you.” Pietro murmured.

“Okay.” I said softly, he still didn’t face me. “It feels a lot like you’re ignoring me.”

Silence sat heavy in the air but along with it was a mounting tension that threatened to suffocate me. I waited quietly for Pietro to make a move or say something, anything. He lifted his head, running a hand over his face and huffing dramatically. “I’m not ignoring you, I’m just…” He muttered something under his breath before huffing yet again. When he didn’t continue his sentence, I decided to make the first move, crawling across the bed to sit behind him. He didn’t move away, encouraging me to move again, placing a hand over his bare shoulder. The muscle beneath my hand tensed at my touch, causing me to falter. I began to pull my hand back, but he caught it before I even had time to blink. “I’m trying just trying really hard to be mad at you right now, but I’m also very turned on and I can’t look at you because it’s too distracting.”

My lips curved upward slightly, relief washing over me. I pushed at his shoulder before squeezing it gently. “I’m being serious, idiot.”

He turned to face me finally. “I just got you back and now you wanna run off all over again, how should I be feeling right now?”

I sighed, shuffling closer to him until my knee was leaning against his thigh. “I’m not running away, Pietro. I’m right here.” He rolled his eyes, beginning to turn away from me but I caught him before he could, my palm curving over his jaw to turn his face back to mine. “You said you were with me, completely. Well, I’m with you too. I love you, so much you have no idea. I’m not going anywhere.” He closed his eyes for a second, leaning into my hand. “Wanda needs to get out of the country and going with you will be a hell of a lot quicker than flying. Plus, if you go it’ll give you guys time to talk.”

“She practically refuses to be in the same room with me.”

“Try again, I have a feeling she’ll be a little more open minded now.”

He shook his head, eyes glinting with knowing. “You meddled, didn’t you?” I just shrugged in response. “I don’t want to go without you.”

“I don’t want to either, but it’ll just be a few days. I’ll be at the compound waiting for you when you get back, I promise.”

Pietro’s forehead dropped to rest against mine and he exhaled deeply. “This has been a real downer but I’m still really hot for you right now, you know that right?”

I snorted, shoving him away from me and attempting to climb off the bed but he grabbed me around the waist, pulling me back to him and pinning me to the soft duvet.

…

Later we would tell Wanda what to expect when she arrives in Mexico and how to contact Rick. She agreed tentatively to Pietro accompanying her and offered me a tight-lipped smile as she slung the backpack of essentials over her shoulder.

The sun warmed the flesh of my arm from where it rested over the edge of the car window. A cool summer breeze flowing through my hair as I drove the familiar road upstate, humming along to the song that played on the radio.

Chapter Text

I wandered out between the trees, fingers dusting over buttery flower petals. The breeze jostled the foliage slightly and, in the distance, I could hear water trickling over stones. I had meant to drive out to the compound, really, I had. Despite my nervousness and how badly everything in me wanted to avoid all the talking and big feelings I’d no doubt have to disclose when I saw Tony again. My chest twisted slightly at the thought, I just needed a minute to collect myself. That’s what I’d said half an hour ago as I sat in the car clutching the steering wheel and cursing my cowardice. Then, an incoming call from Anna pulled me from my thoughts. She berated me for not sending proof of life with some colorful language and choice threats. After that she told me she had booked a flight to the states, and she was going to ring my neck in person. When she’d covered all the standard topics she paused, and I knew right away that whatever was coming next was either going to piss me off or just worsen my tension headache.

“You remember Abeni?”

I swallowed heavily. “Of course I do.”

“Well, she asked me to contact you because there’s something you two need to discuss.”

My eyebrows furrowed slightly at her words. “What is it?”

“She didn’t give me many details, said she needed to talk to you directly. Today. I just sent you the address.” As if punctuating her words, my phone vibrated against my ear. “It sounded important and honestly Abeni doesn’t meet leave her home very often these days, the only reason she came to Berlin to help us was because she owed me a favor.”

I knew she was right. Abeni rarely left Wakanda, she’d told me that while she treated me in that small apartment all those years ago. Memories flashed through my mind, the frost on the windows, the restraints I’d told Anna to use on me. Abeni’s voice as I drifted in and out of consciousness, the broth she’d had me drink that forced the little bit of life within me to break through; to hold on. I thought of the first morning when I opened my eyes and the red was gone, the hazy light streaming through the windows and dappling the room in a warm glow. It wasn’t something I needed to consider, if Abeni wanted to talk, I’d meet her. If she needed a favor, I’d grant it, because there is no price I could ever pay steep enough to repay her for what she gave me.

That was what brought me here, to an unassuming nature reserve in Upstate New York. She stood there like a ghost of the past, a shadow of a different life. The many years that had passed were reflective in the creases by her eyes, but she was still utterly recognizable to me. “You’ve grown.” She spoke, lips forming a gentle smile.

“Abeni.” I breathed, wandering further out into the tree cover toward her.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, my child.”

My lips curved into a strange smile as my eyebrows furrowed further. “You’ve come to talk to me?”

Her smile grew. “I’ve come to collect you.” She said, brushing the leaves of the shrubbery beside her. “There is a friend of yours in my home that I believe needs your help.”

My eyes narrowed then, utterly perplexed by her words. “Pietro?” I asked, worry immediately beginning to burrow into my chest.

She shook her head. “The one who is imprisoned by his mind. You freed him once before, though you were only small then.”

My jaw clenched as I processed her words. “He is not my friend.” Her smile didn’t falter, not even at the evident venom in my tone, she merely continued primping the flowers. “Besides, I didn’t mean to make him revert last time, it probably wasn’t even me… Hydra just didn’t program him right.” The words came out rushed, defensive, my voice sounded utterly wrong. “Shouldn’t it be Steve? He is actually his friend plus they’ve known each other forever. It should be him…” My mind was flooded with memories as I spoke, the cold metal pressing against my throat, him storming toward me as I cowered in the corner. As it turns out, there was a price too steep.

“Anything else?”

I swallowed hard. “Steve knew him as Bucky Barnes; I only ever knew the Winter Soldier. How can I help bring back someone I never knew…”

“The Winter Soldier does not feel any form of mercy, he can’t, it isn’t in his programming.” Her words confused me slightly; I exhaled deeply, gesturing for her to continue. “If he was always the Winter Soldier when you knew him, how was he able to show you restraint?”

“What are you talking about? When did he ever restrain himself with me?” The words tasted bitter on my tongue, I closed my eyes for a moment, adjusting my tone before continuing. “I don’t know what you mean.”

She didn’t seem offended by the bite of my words, nor affected by my little outburst of emotion. “You told me yourself, all those years ago when I was helping you turn your world right side up again, you were delirious while you talked about being in the Red Room and you told me that the soldier was meant to punish you after you disobeyed orders but her didn’t, he resisted and then he was sent away.”

I shook my head, trying to make sense of what she was saying. My eyes clenched shut. I didn’t know why I knew what she was referring to, but I couldn’t dissolve the memory, not now.

I had not replied when Obolensky told me to take off my undergarments, though I also had not complied. I was only 15 and by now I was convinced that I no longer felt things, not pain, not remorse, not fear.

Yet, in that moment, I couldn’t remember I time where I’d been more petrified.

“Your body belongs to your country. This is how you become a patriot.” His words were sharp and his teeth glinted in the low light as he spoke.

My hands were clenched into fists at my side as his slender fingers dragged over my stomach, edging upwards. His hand grazed my breast, and I repeated the words in my head. My body belongs to my country, to my government, I am a patriot. His hand danced across the hem of my underwear, dragging further down and something deep within me snapped.

There was an anger that had lived within me for the past 10 years, or more accurately, an all-consuming fury that simmered just below the surface. It was the feeling of gun metal against my forehead as I awaited the click of the trigger, day after day. It was the cold seat I was forced to sit in for hours on end as I studied for my next assignment, the constant reminder that I was nothing but a soldier, a weapon. The bruises that seared my muscles after a grown man had kicked me in the ribs over and over, the grating sound of Matron Katerina telling me I was weak and disappointing. It was every day here that stoked my fire until it threatened to spill out on everyone around me.

Then, Obolensky pushed me too far.

I beat him almost to death. I beat him until my own fists bled and sweat beaded my forehead, until there was no sign of that fucking smirk that he’d aimed at me while his ice-cold fingers drifted over my flesh.

He wasn’t dead, I knew that when I was pulled away. There was still that barely noticeable rise and fall of his chest, a wheezing breath managing to claw its way up his windpipe. It was all I could see. My back was pressed against cool concrete and then I was shaken, once, almost gentle. My eyes flicked to the man who stood before me, the Winter Soldier. My heart thudded heavily in my chest, and I began to look back over to Obolensky’s unmoving body but the soldier moved into my line of sight, broad frame blocking everything else from view. His flesh hand grabbed my jaw and forced my head straight. I could feel the trembling of my hands, uncontrollable twitching taking over my body. Despite my clouded mind, still, I looked to him for an order. Awaited his scolding, his anger, something that I could respond to.

I opened and closed my mouth multiple times, as though I was going to say something. Yet not a single syllable passed my lips. It was just a stuttered whisp of breath and then silence.

He pressed a screwed-up bundle of clothes against my sternum, eyes remaining firmly locked on mine. I wasn’t sure when he’d arrived or how much he’d seen but something in his icy blue gaze told me he knew. When I didn’t move his hand dropped from my jaw, taking my own and wrapping it around the clothes. Then he stepped back and turned away from me, still blocking Obolensky from my view. Shakily, I managed to slip the shirt and pants onto my body, some small semblance of relief coursing through me at finally being covered again. When I was done, the soldier glanced back at me over his shoulder, just once before turning back to the motionless man on the ground. He moved forward then, grabbing Obolensky by the arm and dragging him from the room rather roughly.

Eventually, after they were both long gone, I slipped from the examination room back into my bunk. The room was quiet and empty, a welcome relief. When I was within those walls, I sat on the ground beside my bed, drawing my knees up to my chest and pressing my head into them. That was how I remained for hours, awaiting my punishment. I was already on thin ice since Natasha left and Obolensky was my superior, he was in charge, just like he always said. I’d disobeyed his orders, and he was an extension of Dreykov, so I’d disobeyed Dreykov’s orders. Not to mention attacking a general.

Night fell and passed and still no one came.

In the morning, I ventured out to find nothing amiss, no strange looks or warning words; absolutely nothing came of what I’d done to Obolensky, at least not on my end. He was fired, or more accurately reassigned after the incident. Dreykov said it was a bad look for those leading operations to show such weakness. Then, the Soldier disappeared too. That day, when he’d dragged Obolensky out of the room was the last time I’d seen him. I never knew what happened, only that he’d gone to speak to Dreykov and then poof, he was gone.

Abeni was right, he had resisted the programming, that was why he was sent away. It all made sense now.

“I didn’t know that back then.” It was a weak, pointless interjection but it was all I could offer.

“Well, some part of you did.” She moved to walk by me. “I don’t suppose there have been any other times you’ve seen him revert…”

I thought of fighting him in Vienna after Zemo activated the soldier. The way his face had crumpled, the evident shift from cold, mechanical precision to human. I could hear his voice in my head clear as day.

“I’m sorry you trusted me.”

That same shift I’d seen in him when we fought years ago after Hydra revealed their roots in S.H.I.E.L.D.

“ Are you afraid now?”

She hummed, as if my silence was all the answer she needed.

I tried to cling to my resentment, the feeling of the cool metal against my throat; the rawness of my voice after screaming and begging for him to let me go. “I can’t help him.” She didn’t respond, only continuing on ahead. I moved to follow her. “Whatever it is you think I can do for him, I can’t. Find someone else.”

Abeni met my eyes finally and the look in them spoke volumes, they were tranquil and knowing. “My child, you know it must be you. Like it or not, the two of you are linked, why else would you have remained in his memory for all these years? Even after all that re-programming.”

I shook my head, looking away; needing to. “I can’t… I’m sorry. You fixed me just find by yourself, you can do it for him too, don’t need me.” I uttered, breathy, rushed, barely audible. She didn’t respond, but I could feel her still looking at me. “I have to go, Abeni. I’m sorry.” 

With that I turned from her, feeling as though I couldn’t breathe. The drive back to the compound was utterly silent and my white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel was the only thing keeping me anchored to reality.

I wished that Pietro was here. In the passenger seat beside me making silly innuendos and grinning at me like I was the only thing he’d ever wanted to look at, like he’d been searching for religion and somehow found it in the curve of my neck. He would know the right thing to say to make it better. He’d be able to coax lightness from me even now, when my shoulders were tight and my hands trembled against the wheel. I thought of the gentle press of clothes against my chest, the quiet exchange in the dim light of the examination room, the punishment that never came. The memory of that kindness infuriated me. Barnes kidnapped me, he took me from my home when I was just a child, screaming and crying for help, mercy. I remember the fear, the desperation that had coursed through my veins. He watched me with Hydra and he told them when the programming wasn’t working, that’s what he was sorry for.

“I’m sorry you trusted me.”

He let me tell him everything about myself, let me believe that maybe he was on my side, just so he could report back to them and tell them just how to break me. I gripped the wheel tighter. In the Red Room, he trained me, helped them turn me into something I despise. He made me get up off when my muscles seized and my bruises pressed themselves into my flesh and he forced me to keep fighting over and over.

“Weapons don’t weep.”

I gripped the wheel even tighter now, because now his words were more than just a flicker of cruelty, it was a full-fledged memory.

“Я сказал вставай.” I said get up.

His metal hand closed around my upper arm yanking me upward, though, my legs were jelly, exhaustion screaming though my limbs. I fell back onto my stomach on the ground. The remnants of tears were smudged across concrete before me, glistening under the harsh lighting, taunting me. I was so tired, so numb. There was no sensation left in my body, not even pain; what was the point in getting up. I’d just get sent back to that cold dark room until they needed me again. There was a faint buzzing in my mind, one that had lived there for days now. Ever since they brought me back to the chair. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong, there was an assignment I think, but I completed it. Though, I couldn’t really remember.

The soldier said something else, but I didn’t hear it, just let my face melt against the concrete. In but a moment he was on me, shoving me flat onto my back and shaking my shoulders hard. “Stop crying, маленькая девочка .” Little girl. I let my head drift to the side, eyes glazing over as I looked at the blank walls. Cool metal eclipsed my jaw, and he yanked my head back straight, forcing me to look at him. “Enough now, Nadia.” I wasn’t sure he’d ever addressed me by my name before. His eyes were narrowed, focused solely on mine. “You are being pathetic, stop.” I didn’t say anything, just stared blankly up at him as he spoke, continuing to grip my jaw tightly. “You are acting weak. I know it hurts, you’re tired, sad, but you are also angry, I know you are. I see it in your eyes and if you don’t feel it right now, then find it. Find it in yourself to be mad, to hate. Hate what’s been done to you, what keeps happening to you, hate me. Don’t let go of it. Don’t give up.”

He'd gone away again after that, for months. Then one day he was back, waiting in the training room for me as if nothing had happened. He was cold again then, merciless and unshakable.

It had been different, when I remembered it before. I always remembered when he was mean, I remember him telling me to get up, stop crying, stop being pathetic and weak. Yet, I hadn’t remembered the part that came after. The memories were driving me crazy. It was easy to say I understood before, back in Austria I could say that I didn’t blame him for what he did because I knew he’d be gone after. I could swallow the memories enough to say I didn’t hate him when it was a means to an end but now I remembered everything. It had all come back around, and Abeni wanted me to look him in the eyes and help him. I tried to just push it to the back of my mind, focus on the issue at hand. There was nothing I could do for Barnes, Steve was his friend, that’s who’s help he needed. It wasn’t my problem. I repeated that to myself over and over like a mantra. However, no amount of repetition helped to dismiss the nagging feeling living within me. There was a reason I hadn’t been able to help Tony arrest him, a reason why I couldn’t bring myself to fully abandoning him to his mind. It was because I knew he’d been a prisoner just like me, he wasn’t my tormentor, nor my captor he was just a puppet, the strings controlling him were just like mine. Because I’d seen remorse in his eyes each time the Hydra agents would throw me back into my cell after their experimenting. I couldn’t let it go when he’d brought me my clothes after Obolensky had stripped my dignity, because he told me to hate him to be angry, because there was strength in rage and in hatred, because spite would help me survive. When he was training me, I’d looked to him like he was some kind of God, even when I hated him, I’d have done anything he told me. Him and Dreykov, in my mind they were inextricably linked. Maybe that was unfair, but it had been all I could muster after my mind had been so thoroughly muddled by the chemicals and the decade psychological torture. Knowing what I do now, there was a possibility that I’d seen him that way because somewhere deep down, I remembered him from my time with Hydra. Maybe, it was why looked to him for guidance or orders.

I barely even registered when I pulled up at the compound, resting my head back against the seat, eyes falling closed for a long moment. What the hell was I supposed to do? Some of the worst, most traumatic moments of my life were shared by him, caused by him, or at least the version of him crafted by Hydra. I wasn’t entirely sure that I could even face him and bare reliving all of it. What if it didn't make a difference?

Then, I thought of what had been done to me. I thought about the electricity jolting through my skull, through my flesh and bones and the way I’d screamed. The rubber mouthguard they’d made me wear to keep me from shattering my teeth. I recalled how Hydra and Dreykov had stripped every piece of me over and over, right down to the very fabric of my being until all that was left was that buzzing in my mind and red all over. How many times had I tried to wash my hands of it all, to reinvent myself, to fortify something new; something they couldn’t touch. Yet, no amount of reinvention ever seemed to get me completely clean. Not when every time I thought I’d got away from it, I’d get pulled right back in. 

I decided to put a pin in that train of thought for now, pause it momentarily so I could face the next pressing issue, Tony. With a final deep exhale, I pulled myself from the car and ventured inside the building. No one appeared by the door to question me, there were no agents wandering around, no familiar faces, just empty hallways and quiet corners.

I’d forgotten how beautiful the sunlight was as it trickled in through the compound windows at this time of day; bathing everything in its warm yellow glow. It was strange how my pre-war sanctuary still looked the same post-war. I wondered how long I’d be able to remain right here, in this spot, soaking in the rays of light. When I felt the presence behind me, I swallowed heavily. He remained silent for a long while and I didn’t turn around right away, choosing to spend a few more minutes basking before facing the music. He hadn’t been here when I arrived, giving me a little time to wander through the familiar rooms, reacquainting myself with the space, but I knew F.R.I.D.A.Y. would’ve alerted him the second I’d driven up. With a heavy exhale, I finally turned to face him.

“You came back?” The words came out in an almost frantic exhale. Like he could barely breathe, voice filling the air between us before I even had the chance to consider what I would say.

I wrung my hands together, looking down toward my feet momentarily. “I know I’m not exactly your favorite person right now.” Tony didn’t respond and when I looked back up at him, he was simply staring at me. “I’m not sorry about the decision I made, but I am sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me.”

“N-Nadia, I...” It was like he was short circuiting, unable to get the words he wanted to say out in any comprehensible manner. A breath passed his lips in the shape of a letter; one so familiar it stole the very breath from my lungs. “Hope.” He finally managed to murmur, a simple name. Just two syllables that he uttered, barely even a whisper. Yet, it sent my mind whirring, I flinched like he’d burned me. Taking a step back, heart in my throat as I narrowed my eyes at him.

“What did you just say?” 

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no sound came out. His eyes seemed to melt as he watched me, barely blinking. His voice cracked as if it was with the utmost effort that he uttered the next two words. “Hope… bug.” 

My heart was thumping heavily against my sternum, dizziness overtook my mind, turning it to mush and barely audible thoughts. All I could hear was that word, and in that moment, it was the only thing that existed to me. It reverberated through the very core of my being, like an undeniable chant. A word that had lived within me since I was a child; something that not even Hydra or Dreykov could take from me. One piece of the puzzle that had always been mine to keep. 

Chapter Text

“I-I’m not…” before I could finish, a flurry of images passed through my mind’s eye. All of the pieces of the past that had returned to me when I was in the Red Room, memories of the family that I’d belonged to. Still, I persisted. This wasn’t real. Tony was grieving, and he desperately wanted his… the word made my head spin all over again. His sister. 

“Hope…”

It felt like I was incapable of getting enough air to my lungs. “Stop calling me that!” I moved away from him, pushing open the door that led into the grassy field behind the compound. Needing space, air, but he followed me out.

“Nadia, listen to me-” 

“No, you’re wrong. You’ve got it all wrong.” I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling my heart thump frantically as I attempted to catch my breath. 

“I told you about my sister, how she died years ago, but that isn’t the whole story… She was 5 years old… about to turn 6, when she was taken from our home. Hydra kidnapped her to get at my father; their great adversary.” He said the last part with venom dripping from his tongue. “Her name was Hope, Hope Stark, my baby sister. I used to walk her to school and home every single day, we’d take the long way so we could spend a little more time talking. It was May 26th when she was taken, her birthday was August 9th. I’d had her gift hidden under my bed since April. She used to have nightmares, a lot… she slept in my bed with me when she did.” His eyes were glassy, and he wouldn’t stop looking at me. I felt my own eyes stinging, face and neck hot. “When we were really little our mom would sing us this song, if we had a bad dream or hurt ourselves… Dream a Little Dream of Me, you know that song that you can’t stand listening to?”

Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper

‘I love you’

Gentle hands smoothing a Band-Aid over the cut on my knee, the same hand leaving a warm path over my back as it soothed the nightmares from my mind. 

The song had always been muffled before, the way an old movie sounds or a damaged record, only ever marginally comprehensible. Now it was loud, clear, like I could hear the softness of her voice in real time. Warm liquid streamed down my cheeks, and I turned away from the man who stood before me. 

“She acted so grown up that sometimes I think I forgot that she was still so little.” 

It was too much; I couldn’t take it. His words felt like rolling around in shards of glass. My stomach churned and my head throbbed as I was plagued with images, memories. 

It was dark and I was afraid. The hands were cold and much bigger than mine, but I did not go easily. I kicked and scratched and thrashed in the man’s grip. I heard ceramic shatter against tile as I made contact with the decor. 

“It was my fault.” 

I whirled around then. “I am sorry about what happened to your sister, Tony! Really, I am, but you cannot put that on me. You feel guilty so you’re trying to force me into the person you have in your mind so you can alleviate your own pain, but you can’t. I’m not your fucking sister so just stop!”

He didn’t respond, just kept staring at me and despite the bite of my words, my voice was shaky. I didn’t move from my spot; it was as if my feet were rooted to the ground beneath me. I thought of the beam that he’d shot into my chest, the ache that had been left in its place. The phantom pain I still felt there. It was a conscious effort not to touch the spot it had hit again. His eyes flickered downwards, and I wondered if maybe he was thinking the same thing. He took a step towards me, and I shook my head, but my mind was already filling with images, memories.  

I was in the car again, arguing with my older brother about the song playing on the radio. He had been angry at our dad. That was why he was so short-tempered that day, they had fought the night before because dad had missed another of my ballet recitals for work, but he’d also been absent from my brother’s graduation. It all laid itself out before me now. I remember walking across the fancy campus, glancing up at the old-timey buildings and clinging to the older boy as he piggy-backed me around when my feet got tired. He’d placed the black, square-top cap over my head at some point, the tassel tickling my nose as it slid down, much too big for my little head.

He swallowed heavily, Adam’s apple bobbing as he attempted to compose himself before continuing. “Nadia.”

“Did you know that we met before?” My words cut off short, my air supply seeming to run out mid-sentence. “Before Fury introduced us… before all of this…” I gestured around us, fingers twitching at my sides, curling into fists momentarily as I tried desperately to regain control of myself. Tony’s gaze was burning into me, never looking away; I knew because I could feel it, despite not being able to bring myself to meet it now. “It was a long time ago, a charity gala, or some other event meant to make rich people feel good about themselves. I was supposed to be there to plant a bug on some foreign officials’ phone so we could feed intel back to the Red Room. You walked right into me, I think you were supposed to be there representing your company, schmoozing with investors but you were half drunk when it started, you spilled your drink all over me.” I tightened my hands into fists once again, digging my nails into my palms, hoping the pain would give me something to focus on. “You said you were sorry and tried to give me your business card so I could send you my dry-cleaning bill… I just ignored you, people gravitated toward you, it was drawing too much attention to me, so I tried to walk away but you followed me. I didn’t know why, what you wanted. I was only 16 and we didn’t know each other but then you said something to me.”

“Hey… kid.” The slightly slurred words had me halting abruptly. My feet felt rooted to the floor for some reason. I tilted my head toward the sound slowly, glancing around as I went to see if anyone else was looking; they weren’t. Finally, I turned to look at him fully, eyes narrowed, irritation sizzling through my blood. He stumbled a little, now empty glass still in hand. “Wait…” He hiccupped cutting himself off before gesturing vaguely in my direction. “I know you… don’t I know you?” He stumbled again and I rolled my eyes at him turning away but the moment I moved a blinding pain ran across my forehead. I pressed my fingers into my temples, eyes shutting tightly as the agony grated across my nerves. Blinking made me feel dizzy, but I forced myself to move onward, attempting to re-orient myself. I blinked and the room went back to its normal red haze.

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed and his entire face crumpled inward further, more emotion than I’d ever seen on him filling his expression. “I thought I dreamt that, blacked out in my hotel room.”

“You didn’t.” I ran a hand down my face, ignoring the overwhelming stinging in my eyes. They’d re-programmed me when I’d returned to the Red Room, I remember now. They re-programmed me, but it didn’t take, not properly. My mind had already devolved too far. Maybe it had reached its limit for being broken and rebuilt, whatever the case their control over me was wavering. Yelena had said that St. Petersburg was a suicide mission, and she was right, but it wasn’t just because I’d lied about Natasha, they knew the programming wasn’t working right anymore, something in me had inextricably shifted so after another year of attempting to remold me once more they decided to eliminate me. I shook my head, dismissing the thoughts. “You were confused then too, drunk out of your mind and imagining something in me that wasn’t there.” He shook his head, jaw clenching slightly. I cut him off before he could protest. “But there is nothing there. I’m not who you think… who you want me to be. I’m not, I’m sorry.” I felt sick and my mind was filled with two things, the look in his eyes all those years ago when he’d asked if he knew me and the names I’d screamed when I was taken. The cacophony of sounds swirling through my head was maddening, chipping away at the little composure I had left. I closed my eyes tightly, willing the sounds to quiet. They persisted, as did my shortness of breath. “I’m not your… you’re confused and I’m not… because I-I...”

Warm hands pressed against the flesh of my cheeks, holding my head so I couldn’t look away. His grip was tight but also very gentle at the same time. Like he couldn’t let go for fear that I’d disappear before his eyes, but if he held too tightly, I might crumble beneath his fingertips. 

His breath was shaky and utterly uneven as he stared at me, eyes wider than I’d ever seen them. More emotion on his face than I could even begin to decipher. 

Tears were rushing down my cheeks despite my relentless attempts to quell them and as he held my face in his hands, I continued to stutter out protests; blubbered, barely sensical disagreements. As the words tumbled frantically from my lips my memory ignited as if it had a will of its own. I steeled myself, attempting to push all of it away, the feelings, the sensations and the everything in between. I tried so hard to pull away from its iron grip, but Tony’s hands were warm against my cheeks and no matter how much I fought it the past demanded to be remembered, the ache refused to be tamped down any longer.

Curls bounced over my shoulders as I shadowed him down the hallway, pleading, dripping from my tone.

“Dad is going to be mad; he told you that you have to stay here tonight.”

He shrugged, slinging his backpack over his shoulder in a huff. “So?” He didn’t sound anything like him. The way he responded seemed coiled, like a snake prepared to strike at any moment. “I’m not one of his stupid employees, I’m not just gonna do whatever he says. I wanna go out tonight, so that’s what I’m doing.”

I stood behind him, looking up to see his sharp gaze trained on me as he turned around. “But you said you’d listen to me play tonight.” I spoke softly, fiddling with the sheet music in my hands. He looked away, shoving past me.

“I’ll listen another night.”

I followed behind him closely, undeterred by his dismissal. “Come on, you’ve been at college for weeks, just one song… you promised. I learned a new one, look.” I tried to hand him the papers, smiling sweetly up at him as I attempted to show him that I could now play one of his favorite songs on the piano.

He’d been fighting with dad for months, they’d always fought but it was worse now, sharper and their anger seemed to cling to them for a lot longer than usual. So, maybe I should’ve expected the snap. Dad had missed his graduation, he’d been working even more than usual lately, barely ever around and he was always so stressed. Yet, for all his fights with our dad, all of their nasty disagreements and cruel words, my brother had never once raised his voice at me, scarcely even given me a cold look.

That’s why, when he’d grabbed the sheet music from my hands roughly and thrown it aside, I’d flinched hard. The sheets rained down over the room, meeting the floor in utter disarray. I stared at them in complete shock, my heart thudding heavily against my chest.

“I don’t care, Hope! Do you not get that? You don’t understand that I don’t care about your stupid piano music?! You are so annoying, seriously.” He ran a hand down his face, jaw clenched, his eyes never met mine. “You’re a child. We’re not friends, wasting my night babysitting you is not exactly my idea of fun.”

I felt the stinging in my eyes despite my attempts to scowl at him. He turned away from me as the first drop fell. “Fine, go to your stupid party, see if I care.”

He didn’t leave right away, his head hung between his shoulders, shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes. I stood; arms crossed tightly over my chest as I attempted to shoot him my most scornful glare. Still, he didn’t move, silence sat heavy in the air for another long moment before he finally pulled the door open and crossed the threshold.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tony just kept repeating to me, over and over, as if he was reliving that day the same way I was. Tears were streaming down his cheeks now too. “I was so mad at dad, I just wanted to piss him off, even as I was leaving, I knew it was stupid and selfish but then there was so much security assigned to the building, no one should’ve been able to get in…” He pulled away from me then, running a hand through his hair and taking a shaky breath. It occurred to me that I had never seen Tony in such disarray before. “When I got back that night and the whole block was cordoned off with police and yellow tape, I knew, and I needed to find someone to blame, so I found the head of security and I ripped him a new one, I kept asking him where the hell he was, how could he let this happen… then he told me he’d left his post because he was tailing me, assumed we were together because we usually were. The other guys were all killed in the fight, and I was out, drinking myself to oblivion because I was mad at my dad.”

“It isn’t your fault.” The words were so quiet, I wasn’t sure he’d even hear them. He met my eyes again then. “You were a teenager, you couldn’t have stopped it even if you were there it was Hydra they-” I paused before the words made it out, unsure if I was ready to finish the sentence, ready for the implication of what I was saying; the acceptance of what he was saying.

Then, I let myself recall the rest of that night once more. The cold metal hand yanking me over a broad shoulder, the force knocking the wind from my lungs. The sound of my own screams bouncing off the walls.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Then, louder, desperate, I’d shouted a final name. “Tony!”

I felt like I was coming apart at the seams. All of it flashed before my eyes, the freezing cold room I’d woken up in, barefoot and still in my pink cotton pajamas. I thought of the searing agony when the electricity jolted through my head, the words they’d said to me again and again, the thing they’d forged. They’d taken everything from me and hidden me within this identity, the soldier; the assassin; the ghost. I felt like I couldn’t take in enough air to fill my lungs. Tony watched me with unwavering attention, studying my every move. I opened and closed my mouth, words failing me. Tears were still streaming down my cheeks in relentless rivulets.

“They gave me this identity, every part of it they forced onto me…” I said as if I was only just beginning to understand, like waking from a deep slumber that had imprisoned me for the past 20 years. “Do you know what Nadia means in Russian?”

He swallowed heavily before shaking his head, not so much as uttering a word.

“Hope.”

One final, cruel joke orchestrated by Hydra.

Finally, I exhaled, and air filled my lungs. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I let them fall freely.

There was a part of me that still denied it, still refused the notion entirely. I suppose it was mostly because I’d spent so long thinking I didn’t have a family, that I’d never really belonged to anyone that even once I started to remember it still didn’t feel real. Even now, undeniable as it was, I couldn’t quite rationalize it. But then, I looked at Tony and there was no argument to be had; I recognized him so wholly, I knew him down to my bones, to the very fabric of my being. All over him was the familiar boy I’ve recalled in pieces over the years. The dark hair that was once shaggy, curling at his forehead, brown eyes that were always a little warm, even when his words held bite. All at once it was real, tangible, laid out before me.

My brother… Tony is my brother, I’m his sister.

“All of this time…” His voice cut through the lofty silence that had begun invading the space between us. “You were right there, for all of this time. I was just too blind… too stubborn to see what was in front of me.” I opened my mouth to respond, I meant to tell him that I hadn’t seen it either, it wasn’t his burden to bear but the words never made it out of my mouth as he spiraled further. “I should have known.” His eyes gleamed with unshed tears; it unnerved me to see him so affected.

I shook my head. “How could you have known? What reason would you have had to presume that we were related? How did you even find out?” There was no limit to the questions I had for him, really, I could’ve gone on for hours.

“Nick Fury called me, that day after the mess at the airport. Said he’d found some new information about my sister’s disappearance. It was the last thing I’d ever expected for him to say.”

I thought of the day he was talking about. The missed call from Fury that I’d ignored, the voicemail he’d left saying he had something important to tell me about my past. I never called him back, even after I’d heard the sincere shock in his voice. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to know, but I’d just had Tony shoot a beam of energy into my chest, just been on the receiving end of a look that would haunt me for the rest of my life, and I thought I’d lost Pietro forever.

I turned to look out at the line of trees before us, shakily moving to sit on the steps leading toward the grass. There was shuffling behind me before Tony came to sit beside me, leaving a comfortable amount of space between us, enough for me to breathe. I glanced at him, my mind immediately conjured memories of the two of us sitting together on another set of stairs, much younger than we are now. I recalled looking through the railing at our parents as they had yet another argument. When I blinked the memory dissolved, it did not disappear, just settled back into my mind where it belonged. I could feel Tony’s eyes on me; it was unnerving, how wholly his attention had remained on me since he’d returned.

When he spoke again, I listened intently, but still I faced forward. “You know, that day after we got our asses handed to us by Ultron and the twins in the shipyard, you had this look on your face when you got on the Quinjet. I don’t even really know how to describe it, but it always stuck with me over the years. Maybe because it was the first time, I’d ever seen the Nadia Pimenova be so moved by something.” I remembered it, of course I did. The way the floor had disappeared from beneath me, the icy terror that had flooded through my veins when I thought I was back in the Red Room.  “I read your file. After S.H.I.E.L.D. went belly up and all their files got publicized. I know about the Red Room and obviously Hydra had a hand in it all but… the look on your face that day, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything like it.” “What did they do to you?”

I shut my eyes tight at the question. “Don’t ask me that.”

“Nadia, please.” His voice was thick, laced with something I couldn’t quite place. I wondered if he’d reverted to calling me by that name for my benefit or if it was just habit. “I need to know what they did.”

The stinging in my eyes returned, tingling with a fresh layer of tears. “It won’t make you feel better.” In fact, I had a feeling it would only make him feel much worse.

“I know that. There isn’t anything that would make it better, other than if you told me that you’d miraculously lived a very happy and fulfilling 18 years before this whole Avengers initiative thing brought you back into my life.” The corner of my lip quirked upward at that. I rubbed my palms over my jeans hoping to dispel some of the clamminess. “It’s not fair, I know it’s selfish, asking you to relive this but… I have spent the last, let’s see, 22 years going absolutely insane thinking of all the different ways they could’ve used you to punish dad; thinking about all of the ways that I let you down and I just need to know. Please.”

That word. I’d never heard him use it so many times. I shut my eyes tightly, allowing my head to fall forward, hang between my shoulders. God, I was so tired. At this point, I’d become a little desensitized to the things that were done to me, but I knew that was not a sentiment that would be shared by Tony.

“They took me to a Hydra facility, some black site in buried in the Balkan Mountains on the Serbian border. They kept me in a cell, it was so dark in that shit hole, I’m surprised the lack of vitamin D didn’t kill me before they managed to finish their master plan.” I paused for a moment then, swallowing over the lump in my throat and running a hand through my hair as I continued, not able to stomach glancing back at Tony. “They strapped me down to a chair and they played the ballet, as you know. It was some kind of weird psychological conditioning trick. Then they injected me with a chemical serum called InfiltraX to help control my mind and strip me of my memories. From what I’ve learned, I was something of a Guinea Pig for them to test their dosages before they manufactured it on a larger scale. They injected me so many times that my genetics mutated; it’s why I look the way I do. I guess all of that still wasn’t enough for them, so they used electric shock therapy, delivering God knows how many volts straight into my brain, over and over until they got what they wanted.” I looked down at my hands, at the bruises blooming around my knuckles. The tears on my cheeks were cooling under the slight breeze that swept by. My mind conjured the memory of the pink pajamas that I’d worn while I sat in that cell, curled into myself in the darkest corner I could find. They were soft to the touch with a patter across the fabric, clouds maybe. The contrast wasn’t lost on me. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it was that they wanted. It never really made much sense to me before. I was a child, what could I possibly have done to earn that kind of dedication?  But now, I think maybe I’m starting to get it. It was never really about wanting me to be their personal soldier; they just wanted to turn me into something that Howard Stark would despise.” Saying that name sent a jolt through me, it landed right in the center of my chest. “Then, when they’d stripped me of every recognizable part of myself, they sent me to the Red Room, but their conditioning never stuck too well and 12 years later, when my mind had devolved beyond what they could fix or tolerate, they sent me on a suicide mission that I somehow narrowly survived. That is how I met Anna, and she handled the rest.” Even my vastly summarized version of events had left me out of breath. I pressed the palm of my hand to my forehead, hoping for something even moderately soothing to the ache that was growing there. I told him about Abeni then, how she’d helped me to overcome some of the conditioning, how I’d after years of what I thought was clarity, I’d come to realize that it all went much deeper. I turned my head toward Tony but still didn’t meet his eyes. “Dr. Norris said that being around things or people who remind you of who you were can help with regaining memories. I’m guessing that’s why my episode got so bad while living in the compound. Wanda’s mind tricks in the shipyard probably shook a few things loose as well, but it wasn’t until I went back to the Red Room and got exposed to the serum antidote that I really got a hold of my memories.”  

“You said something to me at the airfield that day…” His voice almost startled me after such a long period of silence. I looked back at him then and what I saw made my mouth dry up. He looked utterly defeated; more than that, he looked downright devastated. I could see the partially dry tear-tracks still glistening on his cheeks, brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. It was almost unsettling to see him like this, he’d always been so cool, unaffected, even in those times when I’d seen him vulnerable when he’d momentarily revealed some sense of softness, it had never been like this. People didn’t always like his indifference, the sardonic, deflective disposition that was so distinctly Tony, but I did. I always had, for some reason, a strange comfort that I found in it, even when he was objectively acting like a prick. Maybe it was because it reminded me of something, because it was so familiar; so, me.

“I think we all said a lot of things that day.”

He shook his head. “No this was different. Rhoadey had just hit the ground, you were there, I blasted you… told you that I couldn’t protect you from Ross, that I didn’t want to.” I remembered it, how could I forget, it haunted me. “Then you said, ‘I don’t need you to protect me from anything’.” He ran a hand over his face, haphazardly wiping the tears away. “I couldn’t figure out what it was about that, the way you said it maybe, the look on your face, I don’t know but I have thought about that every day for months. It’s like that single sentence made something click, I just didn’t know what at the time.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. “I never meant for that day to turn out like it did.”

“No, I know, it doesn’t matter now.” He took a deep breath, tilting his head back skyward. “I mean I probably should’ve seen that one coming, you were never much of a rule-follower.”

A soft laugh passed between my lips, and I looked at him again. Shifting slightly on the step so my body was turned toward him. His eyes skated over my features, eyes still glistening. “What, not convinced?” I teased, fiddling with my fingers.

The tears finally won out, dampening his cheeks yet again. “No, it’s… God, I just don’t know how I didn’t see it. You look just like mom, the darker hair definitely helps but even before, how could I be so blind? Even with blue eyes you’re still Hope.” Something about that struck me in a way that made my heart squeeze. I looked down, unable to cope any longer with his gaze. “I mean I’m literally a genius, like literally, and I didn’t put it together, how pathetic is that?” It made it a little easier to breathe, hearing something so, undeniably, Tony, come out of his mouth.

“Only you could find a way to boast right now.”

He shrugged. “It’s not really a boast if it’s an irrefutable, evidence-based fact.”

I rose an eyebrow at him. “Oh really? Evidence-based?”

“Yes, obviously. Are you really gonna argue that?”

“Well, I mean you couldn’t even recognize your sister so…” I bit back a laugh at my own taunt as I watched his face shift, utter disbelief and equal parts amusement evident in his expression. “Too soon?”

We’d sat there on the steps for a long time, some of it spent talking, some spent just silently processing. At some point Tony had excused himself to answer a phone call from Pepper and I’d found myself wandering aimlessly through the halls. It was a lot to take in; obviously. Just the confirmation that I had a living, breathing, sibling was enough of a shock but for it to be Tony. The man who’d pissed me off right from the beginning but somehow managed to chip away at my icy exterior until he’d become an unlikely friend and occasional confidante. It felt like my head was spinning, like I couldn’t manage to grasp onto any type of solid ground. I didn’t know how to even begin to make sense of all of this and as much as I wanted to talk to Tony, looking at him and hearing his voice was a lot right now. I pressed my hand over my chest, rubbing back and forth over my sternum, some attempt at self-soothing. My head was spinning, and it was all just too much.

I navigated toward the front door, thinking maybe some fresh night air would do me good. The second I rounded the corner into the foyer I was stopped in my tracks by the figure filling the doorway.

“Greeting me at the door? Did you really miss me so much in one day?” I was moving before he’d even finished the sentence, walking straight into him, arms wrapping tight around his torso as I smushed my face into his chest. “Are you okay, Inima mea?” My heart.

Sometimes it felt like I’d dreamed him into being. Like every time I needed him most he would just appear, manifested out of thin air.