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Chapter Text

Somehow, Ria knew everything would change when Max started to seize. Maybe it was because she knew how Zack protected and focused on Max. Perhaps it was because Max was the third one of them in as many months. Or maybe it was just some weird hunch due to her whack job DNA. It didn’t really matter; Ria only knew things were about to change.

Max became the only person they knew to stop seizing. The orderlies arrived to take her away, but Eva put herself between them and Max. Ria had her back to the group, watching the far end of their dormitory. When one of the officers tried to order Eva out of the way, Eva lashed out, stealing his gun and kicking him away. Something in Ria’s chest eased when Max’s heart stopped racing when her limbs stopped rattling against the tiles. 

Zack ordered Jondy and Ben to dispatch the orderlies. Ria kept her back pressed against Kavi as they left the room. Eva led the way towards the exit, Max supported between Zack and Vada. Ria never faltered in her duty of watching their backs when they came to a stop.

The single gunshot that echoed through the room still rang in Ria’s head on occasion.

Eva dropped.

Eva was taken away.

Colonel Lydecker ordered them back to bed.

Two hours later, Ria and Brin were racing through the cold February night, snowmobiles roaring to catch up with them. Ria didn’t feel the sting of snow between her toes. Brin, however, muttered about lousy timing on Zack’s part. Ria supposed she had a point; they were just as capable of escaping with gear when only the Colonel was around. 

The perimeter fence loomed in the darkness. 

“Can you make it?” Ria asked.

Brin answered by speeding up and leaping. Ria put on her own burst of speed and shot over the fence-

And into a thin-iced river.

She could hear Brin shouting for her. The current was still strong, giving Ria no chance to break through the ice. The cold didn’t bother her, but she knew her oxygen was limited as long as she struggled. She maneuvered towards the side of the river, hoping to find a slope she could use.

Ria’s feet found river rocks, and while they gave way when she pushed off them, the solid base gave her the boost she needed. Her shoulder broke through the ice. The moment air hit her face, she took a breath. Hitting the river bank didn’t hurt, but she still took a moment to re-orient herself.

Brin was nowhere to be seen, but neither could she hear the snowmobiles.

Ria pushed herself up and blinked at the sight of a bridge over the river. Roads meant vehicles. If she could hop onto one, she could move even faster away from Manticore. A quick glance at the sky told her the river had carried her south. The road angled across the river, heading south as well. Ria climbed up to the treeline to the side of the pavement. She would need to stick to the shadows to avoid being seen.

Ria was halfway across the bridge when she heard a car coming from behind her. She turned and looked down the road, eyes narrowing. A civilian car. Manticore had just started teaching them how to maintain vehicles; driving wasn’t yet a skill they required. But it couldn’t be impossible for her to learn. When the car got closer, Ria stood in the road. Either the driver would stop, or Ria would have to jump out of the way.

The car slowed. The driver, one of the doctors from Manticore, was surprised to see Ria. When the driver moved towards the passenger seat, Ria poised to get out of the way of an attack.

The passenger door opened. 

Ria stared.

“I know you don’t feel the cold as easily, but you will do your body a favor by warming up.”

Ria tilted her head. The reasoning was sound; warmth would allow her body to recharge. She would have more than enough energy to overpower the driver as well as figure out how to drive. Still, she watched for any signs of attack as she approached. 

“If you see or hear anyone approaching,” the doctor said, “move into the footwell so no one can see you.”

Ria nodded once as she put on the safety belt. Even if she could survive a crash, she would take less damage using the proper protections. The trip was made in silence. Ria saw very few signs, most warning of wildlife and speed limits. The landmarks were fewer; the endless wall of trees gave her no concept of space.

When they crested a hill, lights stretched for miles.

“Tuck down for now,” the doctor said. “Once we’re in the garage, it’ll be safer.”

Ria undid the safety belt and curled up in the footwell. The small space didn’t bother her, and if she angled just right, she could still see outside the windows. The doctor reached up to tap a button on the sunshade, and Ria braced to make a run for it. Instead, the car pulled into a dimly lit garage.

Ria followed the doctor inside and was immediately given water and ordered to eat as much fruit as possible from a fruit bowl. Ria wasn’t hungry, per se, but the nutrition wasn’t going to hurt her. 

“I’m going to call someone who will be able to protect you,” the doctor said. “Please stay away from the windows at the front of the house.”

Ria stood in the doorway between rooms. She later learned the feeling she had at the time was culture shock. Everything in the house looked warm, inviting, and some objects lacked an obvious purpose. Everything in Manticore had a purpose; nothing was wasted. She absently ate bananas, apples, and oranges while listening to the conversation.

“Yes, of course, Direc- I’m sorry, it’s a hard habit to break.”

“ I suppose I can forgive you this once, it is late, after all. Can you make the drive to Cheyanne? I can have someone waiting at an airfield by the time you get there .”

“I can likely make the trip there, but I’m unsure about the drive back. I may need a reason to be in the city, or they’ll know I transported someone.”

“ Do you honestly think I’m going to risk you being caught or suspected? I can pull some strings for you as well. Travel with her, she’s likely not to trust anyone else .”

“Believe me, she likely doesn’t trust me.” The doctor sighed. “Are you sure, ma’am?”

“ I don’t know if I like that particular title any better. But yes, I’m sure .”

“Then we’ll be on our way. Thank you.”

“ Stay safe .”

The doctor looked at Ria, who had demolished the fruit bowl. “I don’t have proper clothing that will fit you, but something will be better than that.” 

She motioned for Ria to follow, and a few minutes later, Ria was running the rough material of the jean shorts under her fingers in fascination. The sweatshirt was too large on her, but it was warm and would provide some protection against the elements if she had to run.

The doctor emptied portable food into one backpack, then put a locked box and three sets of the clothing in a duffle bag. “Can you please gather these for me?” she asked, holding up a photo in a frame.

Ria nodded once and grabbed the half dozen pictures she could find throughout the house. The doctor folded a colorful blanket lengthwise and tossed it over her shoulder before picking up the two bags. Ria held the door open to the garage, then opened the backdoor of the car for the doctor. Once Ria was tucked into the footwell again, they were heading south once more.

Ria wanted even just Brin with her. Any of her siblings. If back-up wasn’t necessary than she wanted them to have this possible chance at aide in escaping. But that wasn’t her reality. She was alone, risking her life with a doctor who had proven time and again to be no better than those who killed her siblings one by one. 

Ria didn’t know what wishing was back then. Or hope, for that matter. But the emotions roiling through her kept her awake and alert as they traveled through the night.

Margaret Carter was not known by many to have a soft heart. Those who knew her personally, truly, knew she could be amazingly gracious and kind. Most, however, only knew Director Carter, in charge of Shield for 20 years, and reluctantly retired due to family business. As a result, many still looked to her for guidance. Knowing that the small favors would serve her well, she continued to provide her former agents with help when and if necessary.

It had been a long time since she had heard from Doctor Adriana Vertes. Peggy wasn’t even sure how the former Shield agent got her number. But any agent worth their rank would be able to network well enough to get what they needed to complete a mission. 

And while Doctor Vertes hadn’t said why precisely the child needed to be hidden away, Peggy still wasn’t expecting a bald girl with eyes that had seen far, far too much. The way the girl moved spoke of years of training; no wasted movement, aware of her surroundings, and ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

Once they were in the waiting SUV, Peggy put the car into gear and glanced at the doctor. “Now that we’re secure, are you able to explain what, exactly, is going on?”

Vertes kept her gaze forward, watching as New York City grew closer and spread before them. “Project Manticore is a successful attempt at creating human-animal hybrid super soldiers.”

Peggy never thought she would ever again experience her world crashing down around her.

For the first time in a long time, she was wrong.

Peggy set the file down in front of the girl once Doctor Vertes was sent away with Agent Fury. “Read this, then we’ll discuss what happens next.”

Peggy prepared a light meal, not particularly hungry, but knowing food was a requirement for both herself and her new house guest. By the time the meal was ready, the file had been read front to back.

“You are, according to Doctor Vertes, the American military’s next generation of super soldier.” Peggy sipped her tea. “I don’t know how to explain to you that the way you were raised is wrong, immoral, and, if nothing else makes sense to you, illegal.” The last word, at least, got a small frown in reaction. “You have no reason to trust me, this I understand. I’m no commanding officer, and I could as easily turn you back over to Manticore.”

The slightest shift in the corner of the girl’s eyes was the only hint at being poised to flee.

“Will you tell me what motivated you to escape at this particular point in time?”

“X5-452 had a seizure. She did what no other soldier has: she stopped. We knew she would be taken for showing weakness. We made our first escape attempt. Colonel Lydecker killed X5-766 due to being a threat to a superior officer. We were allowed to take 452 back to the dormitory. X5-599 ordered us to escape last night to prevent any more deaths within the unit.”

Peggy sipped her tea again. The concise report, spoken with an even tone, gave away almost nothing of the girl’s emotional state. But the death of a member of her unit was still fresh. Peggy could hear the sorrow in her voice. “Did you have a meeting point?”

“No, ma’am.”

Peggy made a face. “Director, please, if you must use a title. Or, if you’re still feeling rebellious, Peggy is preferred.”

She tilted her head, considering her options. “You are not a superior officer, Peggy.”

Her grin couldn’t be helped. “Those days are, fortunately or not, behind me.” She took a breath. “Your options are as follows: You can continue on your own, with little to no resources, trying to avoid Manticore’s search by living on the fringes of society. I can place you under the protective custody of my organization, allowing you to move somewhat freely through the world. At the same time, my agents can make sure Manticore never locates you. Or, if you have no desire to trust us so completely with your safety, I can arrange for occasional support. I can set you up with gear and give you a list of addresses of those who will resupply you as needed.”

Eyes flickered to the file, Peggy, the window, and back at Peggy. “I continue to,” she frowned, “feel? Rebellious.”

“What plan have you created?”

“Your rank is Director, you have called it your organization, and you speak as if no one will question your orders when it comes to me.” The first real sign of emotion lit her eyes, faint though it was. Peggy would learn quickly just how clever and mischievous those eyes could be. “If it is acceptable, I will continue with you.”

Peggy hid her grin behind a sip of tea, though she knew the child had seen the curl of her lips. The girl was Steve’s legacy in a twisted way. Peggy could not save him, and, in the most literal of ways, this girl did not need saving. But Peggy knew precisely what Steve would have done once he learned of Manticore. So there was only one correct way to reply to the girl’s proposed plan. “This is acceptable. Let’s begin.”

Chapter Text

Spring 1992

Maria didn’t know what to make of Sharon Carter, and she was almost certain Sharon didn’t know what to make of her. Sharon had come bursting into the room, small and wild, and immediately tackling Peggy with a hug. Maria had seen children in the last month she had been with Peggy, had seen that they were unrestrained more often than not, but she hadn’t seen such...excitement.

Learning the names for emotions was something Maria did and didn’t like. It was weird, but it was also one of the more satisfying experiences so far.

“Sharon, I’d like to introduce you to Maria.”

Getting used to her new name was something she had adapted almost immediately. Peggy had given her a book of names and their meanings. She had intended to read it front to back, but then she found the name closest in spelling to the one given to her by her siblings. The meaning, Rebellion, was another thing she appreciated.

“Hi! I’m Sharon, and that’s my mom and dad.” 

Maria nodded, having been given basic information on Peggy’s family unit. “Hi. I’m Maria.”

“Do you like Hot Wheels or Polly Pocket?”

Maria had paged through a Toys ‘R Us catalog to get an idea of what she should expect from other children. “I like Hot Wheels more.” Or, she assumed she would entertain herself better with those more than tiny dolls in small enclosures. 

Sharon held out her hand. “Lemme show you how much fun they are together.”

Maria carefully, gently, took the other girl’s hand and let herself be led from the living room. Sharon grabbed a bright pink suitcase that rattled and took Maria into Peggy’s home office without hesitation. Maria watched in fascination as Sharon dug out dozens of pieces of plastic.

“Daddy got me the new Hot Wheels Test Track. Do you wanna put the track and stuff together? I’m gonna stick the Polly Pockets on the cars.”

Maria nodded, having a vague idea of what Sharon wanted. The track pieces fit together easily enough. There were enough obstacle pieces that Maria was confident she could stop any car from reaching the end. When she was done, she looked to see Sharon lining up small metal cars near the launcher. Tiny toy dolls were stuck to the hoods and windshields with sticky blue gum.

Sharon looked at Maria’s work and smiled. “That looks dangerous.”

Maria could feel herself smiling just a little at Sharon’s approval. Doing things right was always going to be a goal of hers even if she wasn’t in Manticore anymore.

Sharon secured a car into the launcher. Maria was absolutely sure the device did NOT require as much force as Sharon used to activate it.

The car blasted through one obstacle, flipped over another, and then was moving so fast and at just the right angle to ricochet off the third object and slam into Peggy’s desk.

They locked eyes with each other in sheer surprise.

“Girls, is everything okay in there?”

Sharon twisted to shout out the door, “Maria makes the best ob-sti-cal courses EVER!”

Maria could hear Peggy’s exasperated “Oh good Lord” but knew that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Sharon quickly reloaded the launcher. “Let’s see how many cars it takes to destroy this.”

Maybe, just maybe, Maria was going to like being around Sharon after all.

Adapting to a life outside of Manticore was both terrifying and amazing. Some days, Maria would’ve chosen to walk down a hall of Nomlie cells over going out into the city. Other days she hated how Manticore had made her life so barren.

M&Ms were the most fantastic snack ever. And tea tasted so much better than water and came in so many different flavors. Also, socks could be so very, very soft. Her feet were just as sensitive as her sense of touch, and she wanted nothing but fluffy socks for the rest of her life.

Peggy did have regrets about introducing Maria to libraries, though. Knowledge. So much knowledge. Maria was planning on learning everything, and she didn’t care how outrageous that was. Information was a power that couldn’t wear out like strength and speed.

“I don’t understand the advantage of lying about my mental capabilities,” Maria said as she filled out the homeschooling form in front of her.

“This is not an advantage,” Peggy said as she cooked. “This is about security. Manticore will be looking to mental prodigies as well as physical ones. Too many people would be involved with giving you a viable history of being smarter than those your age.”

Maria sighed. “I have to maintain the cover of being a ten-year-old child who has no military training.”

“Exactly. Once we have the basics of your identity settled, we can figure out different ways to keep your body and mind from getting restless.”

“I like to climb.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Maria felt her lips twitch up. That was Peggy’s annoyed but not mad tone. There might have been an incident in Central Park regarding trees, dogs, and Maria’s feline DNA. They hadn’t been to the park since.

“Peggy? Thank you.”

The hand between her shoulder blades was almost as comforting at Jace’s after a day on the treadmills.

Almost.

Summer 1992

Maria let herself sway a little when Sharon tackles her in a hug. She learned not to hold steady when the other girl ran at her; crashing into Maria could hurt a regular person. She wrapped an arm around Sharon, smiling at the level of affection. The group of home school kids Maria spent time with were always counting down until they were free to leave. Maria had better interactions with random kids at the laser tag arena.

“Maria, this is our cousin Antoine,” Sharon said as she pulled away and turned around.

Antoine waved, a bright smile on his face. “Hi, Maria.”

She greeted him before looking at Peggy. Not a word was spoken before Peggy nodded. Maria took Sharon’s hand, held the other out to Antoine, and said, “I want to show you something.”

Sharon ended up leading their human chain to the backdoor. The summer house in Upstate New York was a vast open place Maria had already explored in the last two weeks. Peggy had considered her report about defenses and weak fences seriously enough to do something about it.

Maria brought the other children to the massive tree on the edge of the well-kept yard. Sharon needed nothing more once she saw the wooden slats nailed to the tree. She was climbing up to the treehouse with a cheer.

“When did this get made?” Antoine asked as he hurried up after her.

“I asked,” Maria said. “I helped make it.” The truth was Maria had done all the work once she and Peggy had a blueprint. Peggy bought her the supplies, and Maria had put her speed and strength to use while also fine-tuning her control.

“This is amazing!” Sharon shouted. The pitch made Maria wince a little. “Do you think we can spend the night up here?”

“I think one of our parents will stay with us,” Antoine warned.

“That’s fine. They can deal with the raccoons.”

Antoine leaned out of a window that looked out through a gap in the leaves. “I’m gonna bring up grandpa’s binoculars later so we can see everything.”

Maria would’ve been content to settle in the rafters and obverse her friends. It was apparent Antoine and Sharon were very close and knew a lot about each other. She felt weird trying to join an already established unit.

But then Sharon climbed out onto a tree branch. Maria hurried after her, knowing Peggy would not be at all happy if Sharon managed to break a limb within five minutes of being up a tree.

She knew she wasn’t meant to actually hear what he said. Still, Antoine’s mutter of, “I’m gonna like having help with Sharon,” told Maria this “vacation” was going to be anything but.

Oh, well. At least Maria wouldn’t be bored.

Chapter Text

Joey started to play his guitar as she walked in. "Maria, Maria, she reminds me of A West Side Story."

She shoved the bill of his hat down over his face. "You're not good enough to be Santana."

"Not yet," he said as he set aside the instrument and tossed her a can of soda.

Maria caught the can without looking and started unloading her backpack. Emily snagged the math notes and started studying them. At the same time, Troy passed the science book to Joey and grabbed the history textbook for himself.

Maria had no idea how she ended up with actual friends. They had started as a study group in homeroom freshman year. They soon discovered they all had strong points to compliment each other's weak points. They decided they were going to make it through high school together. Okay, well, Maria had no real weak points academically. But she chose to let Troy explain anything relating to social studies to her. She was pretty unsocialized compared to others in her age group.

But what had started as group study sessions had turned into going to the movies, playing video games, and general hanging out. Maria hadn't really had the chance to make a group of friends like this before. Fortunately, she could learn on a steep curve and brushed off any social mistakes as too much time being homeschooled.

"You guys down to smoke after this?" Emily asked.

The boys nodded. No one was surprised when Maria declined. She and Peggy both were sure it would take an inordinate amount of substances to intoxicate her. And on the off chance it did affect her at "normal" amounts, well, a trio of high school kids weren't going to be able to control her.

"My mom can get us discounts on college applications if we apply in the city," Troy said. "Not that any of us can afford it."

Joey grinned. "The only perk of being a fucking minority: grants to make up for hundreds of years of slavery."

Emily snorted. "You're horrible. Which is probably why we're friends." She flipped the notebook around to show Maria. "Explain how in HELL this makes sense."

Maria rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to her. "You need to stop thinking of it as the alphabet mixed in with math. Here," she grabbed her pencil and a new piece of paper, "replace the letters with symbols." She changed the x's and y's with exclamation points and question marks.

An hour later, Maria was watching the world outside the apartment from beside a box fan in the window. The weed smoke dissipated into the cold November air. The noise was enough to dull Maria's hearing. She could still make sure the other three weren't going to do anything stupid without catching a word of anything else in the building.

After seeing Emily home, Maria jogged instead of taking any of the transit systems back to Peggy's. She got back just in time for dinner.

"What's on your mind?" Peggy asked.

Maria huffed. "Your ability to read my emotions is supernatural."

"No, just experience with agents who are under the impression that doing things themselves is a brilliant idea." Her voice was dryer than the desert they had visited during her summer break.

"Troy brought up college applications."

Peggy gave her a moment to elaborate before speaking. "Do you wish to attend?"

"Unsure." She used a bite of food to give her time to formulate her ideas. "I know I would excel. The idea of hours-long lectures makes me feel...restless."

Peggy nodded. "Have you given more thought to sports?"

Maria shook her head. "Any body contact could break someone else's bones. I can't dodge everything without giving myself away."

"You could just as easily enter the workforce. Getting a part-time job now wouldn't be detrimental to your academics." She watched her reaction. "But, you already have something in mind."

Maria felt herself brace. For impact or flight, she wasn't sure. That annoyed her. "Would I be safe in SHIELD?"

Peggy held her gaze for a very long time. "I could do a lot to make sure certain measures were taken. But I couldn't guarantee it."

"I know the armed forces are not an option for me. But I'm a super-soldier. I can act like a sixteen-year-old, but that doesn't change the facts. I'm always going to be faster, stronger, and capable of learning more than anyone else in the room."

"Don't hold that as a certainty, either," Peggy warned. "Science has advanced since your creation. While SHIELD has heard nothing of a new project, that doesn't mean there isn't a different Manticore out there."

Maria nodded once. "Understood."

"I want you to think carefully about SHIELD. While you would be a valuable asset, you would also be put into situations that increase the risk of revealing your status. God knows I can't stop Sharon, but I can prepare her a lot more than I can you."

"Are there any agents you trust I can talk to?"

The smile slowly spreading across her face told Maria someone's life was about to be severely complicated.

Nicholas Fury had a lot of respect for Margaret Carter. She not only had a hand in building a multinational espionage agency, but she managed to name it something damn clever. That took not just brains and talent, but sheer guts.

Still didn't explain how he found himself in this situation.

"Why does this feel like a setup?" he asked the only other person he had seen for the last hour.

"Because you're paranoid," Melinda May replied, not bothering to hide her smirk.

"Oh, and you aren't?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "It wouldn't do me much good, now would it? If it's a trap, we deal with it. If it's not, we deal with whatever has us here in an airline graveyard in the middle of the night."

They found the plane they were looking for, as well as their supposedly retired former director. Fury wouldn't be surprised at all if Carter was up to something. Mind like that didn't just go on vacation. Still, he had a hand on his sidearm as he and May got into the SUV, where they were offered coffee from a thermos as well as a slim file.

He would admit the photo of a dull-eyed child caught him off guard. The brief bit of information that followed made the coffee sour in his stomach. He had seen some shit. Hell, he'd done some shit.

This? This was some beyond the pale bullshit that SHIELDwas supposed to stop.

"There's a reason we're meeting out here," May said when they both had a minute to process the idea of super-soldiers raised from birth.

"How much would you say the car you arrived in weighs?"

May rattled off a number. Fury snorted. "You would know that."

She gave him a look. "And you don't?"

He shrugged; she had a point.

Something moved behind their car. His hand was back on his sidearm. Two reflective eyes peered over the roof of the vehicle. It was too tall to be any animal and not something that was on top of the car, either.

The teenager that appeared in front of the car looked completely normal. Which meant it was all a lie.

And was proved when she lifted the front of the car with one hand.

"What the ever-loving fuck?" he demanded.

"Language," Carter chided.

The teen was suddenly at the driver's window, a small puff of dust by the car the only hint it had been up to begin with. "I hear swear words every day at school."

"I have delicate sensibilities," Carter said.

Everyone around her snorted and rolled their eyes.

"Do remember I can still influence your careers, hm? Agent May, Agent Fury, this is X5-604."

"I usually go by Maria," the kid said, looking far too comfortable in Carter's presence. Leaning in the window, she reached in and grabbed a water bottle. "I want to join SHIELD. Peggy says I need to research that decision."

Fury blinked. Comfortable enough to use Carter's first name, and to not get reprimanded. "You're the kid I saw in the loft when I escorted Doctor Vertes to a safe house six years ago." He looked at Carter. "You kept her."

"The preferred term is raised," Carter said. "And she decided to stay."

"We're here to answer your questions about SHIELD, I take it?" May asked the kid.

Maria nodded once. "I don't want to be the soldier Manticore cultivated. But I want to use my training. This is the most efficient way."

Fury traded a look with May. They weren't just here to answer questions; there was, after all, only so little they could speak of. But if Carter trusted them with this information, she was also trusting them to examine if the kid could make it in Shield. The report would be unofficial, but it could save the kid's life.

May shrugged, finished off her coffee, and got out of the SUV. "Impress me. You have an hour."

Maria grinned. "How high do you think the top of this plane is?"

Fury glared at Carter. One of these dead planes was going to explode before the night was done, he just knew it.

Chapter Text

Spring 2000

Every once in a great while, Maria regretted trying to be a semi-normal person. While she had the mental capacity to juggle being a super soldier in a regular world, she no longer had the Manticore level demands to use her full potential. But if she didn’t do something to occupy her mind when she wasn’t sleeping, she’d do something...stupid.

Which was how she found herself tapping away at a computer after curfew. Peggy had warned her against her current path, saying the workload would be astronomical. Never mind the fact Maria wouldn’t be able to claim she knew half of what she had learned. But after a month at Shield Ops Academy, Maria had started to go stir crazy even if she was keeping track of the antics her “cousins” got into.

Sharon was really enjoying the whole “Carter’s a common last name” thing she had going. It was helping her establish herself as her own person. But sometimes Sharon would say or do something that would make older cadets and instructors narrow their eyes in suspicion. Antoine was no better even if he didn’t share a last name with his Howling Commando grandfather. He had a whole suitcase full of tricks that never fell into the wrong hands.

Still, Maria had practice looking out for an entire unit of enhanced soldiers. Two regular humans who got up to subtle mischief was something she could track while sleep-deprived and starving. So there really only was one thing for a Manticore soldier to do.

Add to the workload.

“I can hear you typing,” Sharon muttered from her bed. “Go to sleep, Brain.”

“I’m almost done, Pinky,” Maria muttered back. And honestly, she was. The distance courses for the Science and Technology Academy of Shield were a new kind of challenge, but one she was more than willing to take on. She knew tactics and weapons, and while the espionage aspect was different, Peggy had taught her a lot before Maria stepped foot into high school.

Science and Technology stretched her brain in new ways. She loved it. There would be more than enough to keep her occupied even after she ran through the Comms Academy.

“Maria Hill” would only ever have a record of going through Ops. Agent 56, on the other hand, would have a much different profile. Peggy had thought it jumping the gun to use the numbed agent protocol on Maria and Sharon, but those close to her had convinced Peggy it would be safest.

“Maria.”

She rolled her eyes, saved her report, and shut down the computer. “I don’t need as much sleep as you.”

“One day you will.” Sharon rolled over and settled deeper into her bedding.

Maria climbed into her bed, checked her alarm, and closed her eyes. Both of them had been hesitant to agree to being roommates at first. But they knew each other and could trust each other. (Sharon more so than Maria.) So now Maria had a mother hen for a roommate.

Could’ve been worse.

But sometimes, especially late at night, she still missed the hollow dorm of her childhood and the sound of her siblings breathing around her.

Summer 2000

“Some higher-up is one day going to realize our connection and make us redo some of these tests,” Sharon said as they made their way down the mountain.

Maria scoffed. “By then, we’ll either be five times the badasses we currently are or retired.”

Antoine laughed. Sharon didn’t. Maria looked over at her cousin and saw her looking far too contemplative for their current situation.

“Eyes forward,” Maria half ordered. This was still a test, and they could fail, as unlikely as that was. “What’s got you?”

Sharon glanced over at them, then went back to scanning the spaces between the trees. “Do you really think we’ll retire?”

“I think our chances are higher than most.”

Antoine nodded in agreement. “We’re a lot more prepared. And we do have a kind of protection. As much as we don’t want people to know who we’re all related to, if strings ever do need to be pulled…”

Sharon shrugged. “It’s not that I think dying for the cause is a great idea. Aunt Peggy says that only works once. But there are a lot of names on the eagle crest in the front hall.”

Maria knew her name could and would never be one of them, for one reason or another. “Back to your original point: even if anyone finds out who we’re related to, they can’t prove those relations had anything to do with our Academy work. We’ve maintained a 'no contact' rule for a reason.”

Antoine looked over at Sharon. “And if we do end up on that memorial? Then we’ve done our best to deserve it. That’s not a failure.”

Sharon wasn’t the only one who took his words to heart. After being raised to believe that death wasn’t an option, Maria would rather have Antoine’s point of view. She had no plans on dying any time soon, but if she did?

Well, she had made it further than she ever thought possible years ago, climbing out of a half-frozen river in the middle of nowhere. This, at least, was better than anything she could’ve ever achieved at Manticore. She could live, and die, with that.

Winter 2000

Maria hung out the window of the old treehouse, watching the snow gently cover the land. Her cousins were enjoying graduation from Ops Academy: zero paperwork and all the free time they could want for two whole weeks. She didn’t look at them when Antoine asked where she hoped to be station first.

“I’m going into Comms Academy next month.”

“What do you mean, you’re going into Comms Academy?” Sharon asked.

Maria rolled her eyes. “Exactly what it sounds like.”

“No one does two Academies.”

“Well, I am no one.” In more ways than one, what with only being known as Peggy’s ward by a handful of people.

“No, seriously,” Antoine said as he leaned on the wall next to the window. “Two Academies?”

Part of Maria wanted to tell them the truth. She knew she could never do so. But Peggy wanted her to bond with them for a reason, and that was so they would be loyal to her if things ever went wrong. She turned and sat on the window sill. 

“By now, we all realize just how secretive a person Peggy is, right? And that she’s probably more important than any of us will ever be? Why would a former World War Two spy, former girlfriend to Captain freakin’ America, and THE creator of Shield as we know take in a kid? I’m a liability to her life and her secrets. We’re all hidden legacies for a reason. But your parents saw you as a natural part of their lives. Has it ever occurred to you that I just appeared out of nowhere?”

Sharon held her gaze. Maria didn’t flinch, didn’t know how. Sharon was her first friend by choice, her first family member outside of circumstance. Sharon had called her “cousin” because it made sense to her at such a young age. Peggy was not quite a CO, but also not a parental figure as Maria understood them. Mentor, maybe; a guide to life, definitely. 

“If you’re not telling us outright,” Sharon said, “it means you can’t .”

“Which means we’re safer not knowing everything,” Antoine said. “But you’re different enough for Aunt Peggy to decide only she could support you. And you’re going through two Academies because either you have to, or you can handle the extra work.”

Maria shrugged. “Little bit of both. Peggy charged a couple of high ranking agents with doctoring my files as necessary. Agent Hill is going to be out of Ops; Agent 56 will be from Comms.”

“I thought my career was going to be tricky,” Sharon muttered. 

Grinning, she said, “It’ll be nice to not have a mother hen constantly nagging me to sleep.”

Sharon chucked a bean bag at her. “One day, you’re going to be sleep-deprived. On that day, I’m going to shave your eyebrows.”

Maria’s incredulous look made her cousins howl with laughter. Honestly, she really didn’t understand ordinary people some days.

Chapter Text

Spring 2002

Melinda watched the way Maria's head lolled from side to side in the back of the transport van. She knew the rookie agent wasn't asleep. Not only did Maria not need it even after a mission, but there were too many unknown people surrounding her. Actual sleep required trusting those around her. Maria trusted no one.

Melinda didn't know if Maria trusted even Peggy Carter. Willing to risk an alliance seemed more the super soldier's style.

Still, as they unloaded at the airstrip, Maria acted groggy enough to fool everyone. Two agents praised Maria for waiting until after the mission to nap, unlike some people they knew.

"I was tranquilized!" Barton protested.

"You tossed back enough caffeine pills to outrun a cheetah," Harrison said.

"Yeah, so I could finish my part. Which I did. Which means I could nap!"

"Pro-tip, kid," Dex told Maria as they got onto the aircraft that would take them back to Shield. "If your body knocks you out, it knocks you out. Can't be helped. But if you sleep 'cause you think you're safe? Just remember: we're all assholes, and someone will always manage to have a sharpie, a bottle of nail polish, or a bottle of hair gel."

"I will eviscerate anyone who uses nail polish on me," Maria replied.

"Keep the evisceration to a minimum," Melinda said as she passed. "Even cannon fodder takes time to train."

"Which one of us is cannon fodder, ma'am?" Trebond asked.

She smirked. "If you have to ask, there's your answer."

Maria's laughter was unexpected. But it sounded real. Well, at least the kid understood Shield's sense of humor.

Fall 2002 

Phil Coulson was not new to working with rookie agents. His calm, level-headedness and near-decade of experience meant he was able to handle the worst of mistakes and surprises. Not that a lot of rookies saw hazardous, high stakes missions. Not that he had to worry about Maria Hill.

After two hours with Hill, Phil knew that she would not remain a field agent for very long. It wasn't due to a lack of talent or respect for the job. She was damn good at getting things done faster and more securely than some seasoned agents. No, the thing about Hill was her mind for planning, contingencies, and leadership were wasted on a field agent. 

After the mission, he would talk to her about working towards becoming a leader within the field agents. She also had the potential to lead a Strike Team unit if she wanted. Hill's ability to sound respectful when she called out a plan's stupidity would balance the sometimes skewed objectives of HQ and the ever-changing dynamics on the field.

But first, he had to make sure she didn't strangle Barton for being too much of a smart ass.

"You know he's joking, right?" Coulson quietly asked the almost twitching agent. 

"Yes, sir," Hill grit out. "He just hasn't shut up in the last two hours. His voice is starting to grate on my ears."

"Ah. That's legitimate. In that case," he tapped on his comm, "Agent Barton, now is not the time to achieve the world record for longest non-stop mission audio."

"Shut up and snipe, sir?"

"Quieter observations and commentary would be appreciated."

"Roger that, Agent Coulson, sir," he drawled. His voice went from dull roar to a much more gentle murmur.

The look on Hill's face spoke volumes, as did the way her shoulders relaxed. She'd get used to Barton's commentary. Or she wouldn't, and no one would hold it against her. Everyone had a breaking point, after all.

Summer 2003

If Jasper Sitwell didn't know any better, he would swear on his grave that SHIELD was breeding field agents. Agent 56 had a minimal history, even if he didn't have the highest of clearances. Just because he couldn't look deeply through an agent's profile, didn't mean all they did was highly classified missions. Everyone had to start somewhere, and Agent 56 had been dealing with varying levels of information.

So. This person was NOT fresh out of the Academy, no matter what their profile said. Whatever SHIELD was hiding, he wasn't sure if that great a job was being done. After all, if he suspected there was more to Agent 56, then someone WAY more paranoid than him also noticed. And while Jasper didn't particularly care about where someone came from, it seemed like it'd be an interesting story.

No matter what the deal was with 56, he had a feeling he was going to enjoy reading reports from them. The information he now had for his latest assignment was going to make his job so, SO much easier. It was almost as if 56 had already been on the ground and assessed the situation. Which…not unlikely, but the chances were slim. He would barely have an assignment if SHIELD had already managed that much.

There was a knock on the open door to his office. He looked up and nodded at the two agents, motioning them in. "Moore, Hill, perfect timing. Have a seat." He held out copies of the file he was already halfway through. "Neither of you are easily offended?" 

Moore shrugged. "Depends on the offense, sir."

Jasper tapped at the papers. "The agent who did the initial assessment has made it very clear that "government intelligence" is an oxymoron."

Moore snorted and flipped open the file. Hill was much more quietly amused. Jasper had worked with her only once before. She had a damn good head on her shoulders, and he definitely didn't feel like he'd be babysitting and hand-holding while working with her. 

Moore snickered. "Whoever decided to send a pale woman into this country needs a whole semester in geography and sociology.' This is gonna be fun."

Hill sighed. "Does this mean I have to wait in the car?"

"Depends on how high your scores are in evasive and offensive driving," Jasper said.

She smirked. "I suddenly don't mind waiting in the car."

Moore gave her a look. "Should I be worried?"

Jasper shook his head. "When someone has that look on their face, always be worried." Not that he was worried.

There were worse people to have on an op than someone who drove like a bat outta hell.

Winter 2003

Victoria Hand prided herself on professionalism and by the book operations. She had set the rule book on fire more than once, don't get her wrong, but the proper ways of doing things kept more people alive and made for far more successful missions. After all, someone had already learned the hard way how to go about SHIELD's mission. There was no reason for her to repeat those hard-won realizations.

So when she walked into the meeting room to see one of the rookie agents holding another in a headlock, she traded a look with Isabelle Hartly and sighed. "Hill! Carter! Act your physical age, not your agent rank."

Hill immediately released Carter and folded her hands on the table. Carter seemed completely unruffled and not at all put-out. As the two senior agents set down the mission files, their last rookie walked in.

Triplett took one look at the two other rookies and faced Victoria. "Agent Hand, ma'am, may I request a reassignment?"

Carter rested the side of her head against Hill's shoulder. "He doesn't love us anymore." Her sigh was one made for Broadway theatrics.

Hill shrugged her shoulder, knocking Cater off of her. "You're the reason he was quarantined for a week."

Triplett's eyes were pleading with Victoria. She pointed to a chair. "Sit. Read. Prove you three have learned something since leaving the Academy."

Three hours, two broken bones, one stolen dumpster truck, and half a burning city block later, Victoria understood why Izzy had been reluctant to work with the three new agents she had heard so much about. Victoria had thought it all just the usual over-exaggerated bull shit that came with each new year of graduated baby agents. 

"I told you, Vic," Izzy muttered from the driver's seat of the dumpster truck. "Trio of Terror."

"They completed the op, that's all that matters." 

"Even if they gave you, and I do quote, "heart palpitations?"

"They jumped out of a fifth-story window," she hissed, "with only a hope and a prayer that they got the fucking truck schedule right!"

Izzy smirked and patted the steering wheel with one hand. "Never stolen a dump truck before."

She slugged Izzy in the arm. Still, Victoria didn't care how good these three kids were. She wasn't working with the "Trio of Terror" again.

Spring 2004

Nicholas Fury frowned as the agent in front of him stood far too formally. "Knock that shit off and sit." He shook his head. "Act like I haven't watched you punch a hole in an aircraft on a dare."

Not very many people could read the amusement in Hill's eyes. While he didn't know her that well, he had seen her less guarded. He put two folders in front of her. One was labeled with her name, the other with her agent number. The former was quite a bit smaller than the latter.

"I know you enjoy the anonymity of Agent 56, but I need you to do more as Agent Hill."

She frowned. "Why, Director?"

And he supposed he should be grateful she was asking respectfully, even if she was questioning his orders. "Because Agent 56 works alone. Agent Hill could do with coworkers who don't want anything bad happening to her. People who will have her back in case things go sideways. Or if skeletons dance out of the closet."

Her eyes rolled, just as he expected. "If my skeletons rise from the grave, there's nothing any agent can do to help me."

He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "So the network of connections, vaguely authorized informants, and unofficial bolt holes and hidden bases will be of no use to you whatsoever?"

Oh, she had learned that glare from Director Carter herself. No doubt due to having earned it. 

He brought a file out from a locked drawer and slid it over the desk. She opened and went stone still.

"He pitched a little too hard, ran a little too fast. Some people thought it was steroids, others natural talent. As far as anyone's concerned, he had ties to the Mafia that put two bullets in the back of his head when he skipped town." He saw her eyes tighten just a little. "That tattoo on his neck tells you and me it was a little more than natural talent, and a lot more than the Mafia."

He watched her jaw twitch. The former Director Carter had told him how Hill had done everything possible to rid herself of the telltale mark of a Manticore soldier. Due to it being more than a simple tattoo, Shield medical had to come up with a new kind of laser removal treatment. Even so, Hill had to have the area treated every few years.  

"Kavi was the first of us to smile."

Well, shit. They had names for each other. That...hurt and comforted him more than he was expecting. He'd wondered, once, how a kid with no name chose one for herself. "Kavi" definitely wasn't anywhere close to what the kid was using as an alias. 

She closed the file and looked up at him. "Agent Hill reporting for duty, sir." And, really, he could overlook the bad attitude this time. She had been raised to remain secret, remain unknown. 'Friends' were risky concepts; he refused to have many himself.

"Good." He handed her a new folder. "Find Barton. Bring him and that to Coulson."

She didn't quite make a face as she took the folder and stood. "Agent Barton...dislikes me."

"Agent Barton doesn't know you." He gave her a pointed look. When her eyes rolled, he said, "You've picked up some bad habits from Carter the younger."

The eagerness in her eyes was downright evil. "Does it count as insubordination? It's been more than a decade since I've broken out of a bri-"

"I'm not sending you to the brig, you'd break it for shits and giggles, and I don't have the budget to fix that." He pointed to the door. "Go. That op should be a milk run for you three.

"I believe you just jinxed it, sir."

"Only if you believe that. Dismissed."

Chapter Text

Maria sat on the edge of her desk and looked at the spread of information on the floor in front of her. The sheets of paper were rearranged in clumps, forming a vague map of the world. There were high profile incidents over the last five years that Shield had little to no information on when it came to the perpetrator. 

Security cameras caught a flash of hair if the kill was done at a more intimate range. Witnesses embarrassingly describe a beautiful woman, but with no real defining features. When bullets were found, they were sniper rounds with no rifling. What fingerprints were found were of long dead people. Some of the victims were found with snapped necks, except the last person to have access to them was too small and dainty to have managed it. There was really nothing to go on.

Which was why Maria was given the files and the project. Fury didn’t expect her to complete it any time soon; she had work as Agent Hill that was a little more time sensitive than this Agent 56 puzzle. But since she didn’t need a lot of sleep and didn’t suffer from burnout at the same rate as her coworkers, she could spend some time every few days looking over the data. She did agree with Fury about what all these unsolved mysteries smelled like, though.

Supersoldier.

No normal human was so good as to always evade capture. A regular hired gun couldn’t get so close to some of these targets unnoticed. There were kill shots made from angles that the best sniper scope couldn’t make possible. When Maria looked at the list of possible ways to pull off the murders, she could figure out exactly how she or her childhood squad could have pulled it off without any kind of problem.

The reason Maria was only seeing these files now, however, was due to an interesting development in the last six months. There had been a spike in activity from an entity leaving a red hourglass at the scene of the crime. Sometimes it was obvious, sometimes it took days to find. Laying claim to the deed had given SHIELD the barest hint of an idea.

Black Widows. Russian spies, assassins, whatever was needed to do the dirty work. They were rumors, a ghost story told by intelligence agencies to make up for their failures in, well, intelligence gathering. Or, perhaps, a myth perpetuated by someone or something who wanted others to fear what Russia was capable of.

Maria would find out, one way or another.

If her phone ever stopped ringing.

“What the ever loving fuck do you want, Sharon?”

“I can see the light coming from under your door. Go to sleep.”

Maria glared at the door. She would have to seal it better. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Reykjavik?”

“Volcanic eruption.”

“And your first action was to bother me?”

Sharon faked a gasp of indignation. “How can I be a bother? We’re fa-mi-ly!”

Maria rolled her eyes. “I’m calling it Stockholm Syndrome.”

“Ooohhh, I’m telling Aunt Peggy.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“You will be when I can cut power to your office and your office alone.”

Maria slid off the desk. “It won’t be fear I’m feeling.”

She huffed. “Fine. I’m wired since I was expecting a flight. You’re awake. Entertain me.”

It had been more than a month since she and Sharon had been on the same coast. They had barely gotten a twenty minute lunch together earlier in the day. “Give me ten minutes to clean this up. I’ll meet you in the entrance hall.”

“You better.”

Maria hung up the phone and started gathering the papers to lock away. She could always get back to it after seeing Sharon home for the night.

Clint blinked at the time stamp on the “Last Updated” line of the file before clicking it open. He quickly found the latest additions and read through them. He knew he shouldn’t have laughed at some spots, but working at SHIELD meant having a twisted sense of humor.

“You’re having too much fun at work, Barton,” Coulson commented after half an hour. “That’s frowned upon.”

Clint snorted. “Bullshit.” He put the laptop on the cushion next to him and stretched his arms out. “That profiler working on the assassin we’re aiming for has an idea on who it might be.”

“Oh? I haven’t gotten to that one, yet.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you know I’ll tell you the relevant bits.” He caught the way Coulson’s lips twitched up but said nothing. Their working relationship worked well for a reason. “The correlation between the assassin’s actions and the known tactics of Russia’s Black Widows are an almost perfect match.”

“Almost?”

“Profiler says this possible Widow is off leash.” He frowned. “Are all the profilers numbered Agents, or just some of them?”

“Usually the ones that deal with the more...creatively violent cases aren’t identified for personal security and professional relations. Getting into the head of someone like a Black Widow takes not just talent, but a deeper level of understanding that kind of psyche. It puts people off.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “If someone isn’t a paper pusher for SHIELD, that should automatically be off putting. The rest of us are all murderers.”

Coulson gave him a look. “You realize that many agents who don’t know my role as handler believe I’m a paper pusher, yes?”

“Yeah, but you’re the exception that proves the rule.”

Shaking his head, Coulson said, “If we are dealing with a Black Widow, and one not under Russia’s control, this just became a lot more dangerous and complicated.”

“Seeing as I don’t know much on them, I guess I know what I’m doing with my afternoon.” He tugged the laptop back into his lap and followed the link to the Black Widow files. “I wanted to go shoot things, too.”

“You’re pouting. It’s not a good look on you.”

Clint fluttered his eyes at his handler. “You think I look good?”

“When you’re silent. Which only tends to be when you’re also unconscious.” He waved at Clint. “Get out of my office and go shoot things for an hour. The Black Widow files aren’t exactly thorough or large.”

The laptop was shut and tossed aside before he could finish saying “get out.” Clint said he’d bring back food and ignored the shout about using his own office. Clint’s closet of an office didn’t have a comfy leather couch to sprawl in. One day, he’d work well enough with someone to get a bigger office. But that wasn’t today. And, frankly, he was fine having the excuse to make sure Coulson didn’t forget to eat and go home. Work-a-holics were the hardest to care for, honestly.

Maria compared the list of possible Black Widow kills to the list of upcoming meetings of world leaders and high class society. There had been the death of an assistant to a UN delegate who had been passing information of closed door meetings to the highest bidder. A notable Russian arms dealer had been found choked to death on his own bullets; literally choked, as if he had been forced to chew and eat one. After hopping over two countries, a businesswoman known to ignore child labor laws was found strung up by her own products.

A small Black Widow hourglass had been found somewhere on their bodies, either etched, tattooed, or inked by pen. The path of death would trail through two more European countries before dipping into the Middle East. 

Maria pulled up SHIELD’s list of arms dealers and questionable businesses. Sometimes allowing illegal activity to remain in place gave SHIELD a place to start looking.

“If I was an assassin on the run from my government, where would I stop to breathe?” Maria huffed. “I wouldn’t. But there was bleach found around the Russian, so the Widow must have been hurt and needed to clean up the blood…”

Maria laid out a route that would take the Black Widow on the most direct route to her next possible target. She used rail and car transport; flying was a risk in it being so confined and far too risky to escape from. In each city, Maria listed possible places of rest and supply pick up. 

After saving the data to the file, she stretched and cleaned up. Antoine should be in the building somewhere. Maria figured it’d been a while since they pranked Sharon. Since her cousin was fool enough to trust Maria with the codes to her office and computer, it was time to teach Sharon a lesson in actually being a secret agent. Peggy would approve, which was all that really mattered when it came to pranks.

Nick watched the supersoldier twitch.

“You want me to what?”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

“No, sir. But if you don’t think Barton will get the job done-”

“That’s not what I said.” He raised an eyebrow when it was obvious Hill wasn’t comprehending what he wanted. “The Black Widow is another kind of supersoldier, even you admit to that. Barton will do his job. But on the very, very slim chance he can’t? You’re the only one in this organization that can keep up with a runaway Black Widow.”

He watched her realize what it meant to be so unique. He knew he had to carefully help her balance being Maria Hill and X5-604. She was managing quite well, truth be told. But then these moments arised. This mission would be on neither of her files. Agent Hill didn’t have the clearance to even know of the operation. Agent 56 could not be known to have been anywhere near the scene if things did go to hell. 

“When do I leave, sir?”

Barton sat down at the little cafe table across from the Black Widow. “Ever get the feeling you’re being watched?”

Maria, were she raised by anyone less than Peggy Carter, would’ve flicked her aim over to the other agent and twitched her trigger finger. The man was insane. He was downright idiotic. She could hear Coulson having an aneurysm. But even if her connection to the comms was one way, she still said nothing.

Green eyes assessed Barton and decided he wasn’t a threat. “Beautiful women are always being watched.” Oh, look, she was humble, too.

“Beautiful and deadly women even more so.” Barton sprawled, seeming to relax. Both Maria and the Widow knew he was poised to strike. It wouldn’t be fast enough, but it still ran the chance of hurting the Widow. 

“Why put in all this effort just to ruin any chance you had at killing me?”

Clint scoffed. “I hardly put in any effort. I’m just the sniper, and I’m not so stupid to think my boss didn’t send back up.” He spun a finger in a lazy circle. “Why put yourself out in the open when every other government agency wants you dead?”

“The government that made me hasn’t managed, what makes you think yours can?”

“Because someone figured you out well enough that we’re talking here and now. What does that tell you?”

Maria could see how the Widow’s jaw clenched and released. “Maybe I’m not the first your agency has encountered.”

Clint nodded once. “So. We could kill you. Traumatize a few civilians, sure, but the collateral is worth putting you down.”

“Or?” The level of amusement in her voice made Maria want to take a warning shot.

“Or you can continue on without running.” He leaned forward, lacing his fingers on the wire table between them. “Cause I might be just a sniper, but here’s what I’ve noticed: The only people you’ve killed in the last six months have been a threat to innocent lives. Arms dealers, sweatshop owners, information dealers looking to get good people killed.”

The Widow sipped her tea, saying nothing.

“You wouldn’t touch the money from the businessman looking to kill the local hero of a politician keeping him from bulldozing an entire small town for a resort. But the cost of taking out a drug ring was half that and you didn’t even hesitate.”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t as out of my way.”

Maria called bullshit; both hits were equidistant. The politician would’ve been the singular, easier kill for twice the money. But stopping a drug ring took longer to be sure all the threads were cut and burned.

“Was it? Or was it because they were using children as mules?”

The Widow was done playing, it seemed. Her demeanor shifted and Maria was ready to fire. “I’m too dangerous to be allowed to live, even under your agency’s control. Your superiors will kill me without a second thought.

“You’re far, far too talented to kill without a second thought.” He grinned at her. “And how much control do you think they have if I’m throwing the mission to talk to you?”

She considered it. Maria’s finger rested on the trigger. Clint didn’t falter. The Widow finally shrugged.

“Fine. Prove me wrong.”

Chapter Text

Once the one on one debrief with Fury was over, Maria put the Black Widow mission behind her. There was no reason to dwell on outcomes she couldn’t control and would have no part in. Either the Black Widow would be killed, or Maria would end up with a new coworker. She’d find out when the information was relevant.

For now, she sat at a table with Antoine and Sitwell, going over the data for a new mission. Sitwell was letting them do most of the planning; some claimed it was due to him being lazy. Maria knew it was to help less experienced agents learn. He always double checked their work and pointed out problems or missed points. For her part, Maria enjoyed having more control over what her missions were going to look like.

She blamed Manticore. Being in control was always more comforting.

A week later, once she and Antoine were back and catching up with Sharon in one of the cafeterias, Maria learned something she hadn’t been expecting. Bobbi Morse crashed at their table. The trio didn’t so much as flinch.

“That is the face of a person with some juicy gossip,” Antoine said as Bobbi leaned in.

“Barton’s been locked up indefinitely.”

Maria didn’t have to feign her surprise. “For what?”

“All anyone knows is he didn’t take a shot. After his last mission a week and a half ago, he went straight to the brig and hasn’t moved since.”

As the other three started to speculate, Maria’s mind whirled in a different direction. If Barton was disciplined for disobeying orders, why hadn’t Maria faced the same fate? Unfortunately for her, Sharon noticed how she had zoned out. It only took an hour after lunch for her cousin to corner her.

“What do you know?” Sharon demanded.

“Do you know what a clearance level is?”

“It’s to protect idiots who would do stupid things with too much information. What do you know about Barton?”

And Maria couldn’t really argue, and didn’t really want to. “I was there. I was on the same mission. I had the same shot and I didn’t take it.” She frowned. “Why am I not being punished as well?”

“Was the order to kill, or to just make sure Barton didn’t die?”

“The Director didn’t specifically tell me to make the kill if Barton couldn’t. He only told me to track the target if Barton failed.”

“And did you?”

“Yes.”

Sharon shrugged. “Then you did your job.”

“To the letter, but not the spirit, and we both know that still counts.”

“Look, do you want to sit in a five by five square for the unforeseeable future?”

Maria grinned. “I’d think you’d want me to catch up on my sleep.”

Sharon rolled her eyes and headed for the door. “You’re not as funny as you look.”

Melinda May finished her report before looking at the agent on the other side of the desk. “You have questions.”

“I dislike how well you read my emotions when I know I’m not projecting any.”

Melinda smiled just a little. “You have a tell.”

“Tells were beaten out of us as children.”

“You haven’t been under such strict control for years. You’ve developed tells.”

Maria groused. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what they are.”

“Only because it’ll save your life one day.” She explained what Maria did and saw the determination to eliminate the signs. “Now. Why are you here?”

“What do you know of Agent Barton’s op?”

“I know he didn’t do his job.” 

“Well neither did I.” 

Melinda raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t what she was expected to hear. Maria sounded so certain she had failed, and she was so confused by it.

“I was there. I watched him disobey orders. I had the shot and I didn’t take it, either.” 

“Ah.” Well, she could see why Maria was confused. But a judgement call on Barton’s end wasn’t the same as Maria making the same call.

“Ah?” 

“All anyone knows is that Barton disobeyed orders; no one knows what those orders were, only that he was taken straight to holding, no questions asked. He also hasn’t been moved.”

Realization struck Maria. “And if it were so serious, he would’ve been set before a tribunal and sent to a more permanent prison facility.” 

Melinda nodded once. “Exactly. That he hasn’t is telling. That you haven’t is also telling.”

Maria sat back and grew thoughtful. “Thank you, Agent May.”

Melinda went back to her computer. “Any time. But don’t tell anyone else that.”

Maria stood. “Of course.” She headed for the door. “Can’t give away all my sources.”

Melinda shook her head as the door closed. SHIELD certainly wasn’t the worst place for a super soldier. But it was going to end up being very interesting before all was said and done.

Three weeks after the Black Widow mission, Maria was once again seated across from Director Fury. She was almost certain very few others saw him as often as she did. Fortunately, she had yet to end up in his office due to fuck ups. It was only a matter of time, though. She, Antoine, and Sharon were bound to end up disciplined for insubordination.

Fury tossed a file in the middle of the desk between them.  “You’re thinking far too hard about something if I can tell.” 

She didn’t even bother to ask what the tell was; he certainly wasn’t going to tell her. “You disciplined Barton but not me.” 

“Barton only had seventy five percent of the info you did. He acted on a fucking whim. And either you’re not as smart as we both know you are, or you saw the same potential he did.” 

“Or I’m really fucking biased?” She was a super soldier, so the idea of having another around could be tempting. Not that it was to her, especially one she didn’t know all the abilities of.

He scoffed. “I’m only ever going to worry about your decision making if it comes to Carter or Triplett’s lives. Even then, I expect you’ll only risk yourself, not anyone else.” 

“Sir-” 

“Why didn’t you take the shot, Hill? Why didn’t you complete the mission?” 

She could feel her brain locking up. This reaction was one she had had often when she first escaped Manticore. She was experiencing an emotion she had no name for and didn’t know how to identify. Peggy must have warned Fury about it, because he didn’t seem all that bothered to wait while she figured out her reasons. 

“Barton wasn’t wrong, sir,” she spoke slowly, carefully. “The potential in such an asset was worth the risk.” 

He nodded once in agreement. “Which is why I’ve brought you here today. You know what’s at stake, you can handle more than anyone expects. The Black Widow has gone through a process similar to your deprogramming.” 

Maria cringed. SHIELD had had to come up with new and interesting ways to deal with the mental malfunctions of a ten year old who wasn’t entirely human. Peggy had spaced out the procedures as much as was safe. The memories still left the taste of copper in the back of her throat.

 “Agent Romanova needs a mentor that won’t judge her too harshly or pity her past.” 

“I’ve only been an agent for three years,” Maria protested. “She’s not going to respect me. Agents Hand or May would-”

“Would lose their lives if Romanova decides she wants out. You stand a fighting chance.”

Maria huffed. “Why am I debating this? You’ve already decided this course of action.” 

“If you haven’t figured out why I allow some people to question my orders, you aren’t paying attention.” He pushes the file across the desk. “Dismissed.” 

Natalia watched the agent enter the room and sit across the table. She moved with far too much control, too much at ease with herself. Either this agent didn’t know what Natalia was capable of or thought Natalia was tamed.

“I’m Agent Maria Hill,” the woman said as she set a slim file folder between them. “I’ve been assigned to work with you during your probation period, Agent Romanova.”

“Romanoff.”

Hill paused. “Excuse you?”

“New identity, new name,” She shrugged. “Natasha Romanoff.”

Seeing the genuine understanding in Hill’s eyes was a surprise. There was no judgment, just sheer acceptance.

Hill nodded once and made a note at the top of the file. “Agent Romanoff, the Director has decided it’s an insult to your intellect and talent to run you through SHIELD Operations Academy…”

Chapter Text

Maria made a note of the desired name change on the file. She would inform the Director after the meeting. He wasn’t likely to make a fuss or deny the alteration to records. “Agent Romanoff, the Director has decided it’s an insult to your intellect and talent to run you through SHIELD Operations Academy. Therefore, you get a crash course in SHIELD’s standard operating procedures.”

An eyebrow was raised in the most elegant manner Maria had seen. “Crash implies pain.”

“Only if you’re doing it wrong.” She pushed the file over to Romanoff’s side of the table. “This mission is still an insult to your talent, but it’ll give you an idea of how SHIELD functions.”

Romanoff read maybe the first sentence before looking up at her. “I’m being allowed into the field already? Aren’t your superiors worried I’ll take the opportunity to escape?”

Maria crossed her arms and leaned back. “Can SHIELD truly stop you from leaving if that’s what you really wanted?” She held the assassin’s eyes, letting Romanoff see that Maria wasn’t judging her. She couldn’t, honestly. Romanoff was pretty much everything Manticore intended for Maria and her siblings. Efficient, deadly, unattached. Although, Romanoff had one thing in common with the Manticore escapees: a distinct lack of loyalty to her creators.

“Trusting me is foolish.”

Maria scoffed. “Trusting anyone is foolish.” She motioned to the folder. “Read. We’re meeting Agent Coulson in half an hour.”

Romanoff watched her for another moment. Maria stared right back. When the assassin refocused on the file, Maria zoned out and hoped Fury’s streak of being right continued to hold.

Phil Coulson was used to working with agents from other organizations. Sure, SHIELD sometimes faked identification and credentials to allow for infiltration in other government entities. Not everyone could know of SHIELD, after all. He knew Hill would remain as professional as usual, and for Romanoff to at least take orders into consideration before acting. He wasn’t expecting them to work together as well as they did.

He wasn’t expecting to be relatively useless.

“Romanoff, E.T.A.?” Hill asked, the roar of the motorcycle muffled by the helmet.

“Ninety-seven seconds.”

“Distraction required?”

“Negative.”

Phil monitored the security cameras but saw nothing worth mentioning. Romanoff knew how to infiltrate a simple office block. Even, perhaps especially, if that office building was occupied by an armed militia looking to use the respectable cover to their advantage. Romanoff was just another pretty secretary moving files from one place to another. Nothing to see, nothing to notice, certainly no one who was carrying the entire roster and weapons registry.

In a small commandeered closet with a tiny desk, files were moved into a slim backpack with doe-eyed puppies embroidered onto it. Neither he nor Hill had any idea where Romanoff had purchased the thing, but it definitely didn’t scream ‘secret agent.’ 

As for Hill, she had done her job with only a single curse at the wires she was working with. Every word spoken and every bit of data sent over the internet would be added to SHIELD’s collection of evidence. Hill wasn’t his first choice for the technical work, but she had needed to get into a handful of buildings to access the proper connections. It was far easier for Hill to learn the electrical work than teach infiltration to a more tech-inclined agent.

“Romanoff, you have a shadow,” he said.

“Short, shaggy, and sweating?”

“I can make the first two. Can’t read the sweating on these screens.”

“His buddies dared him to hit on me.” Her exasperation was tangible through the comms.

“Sir, if she gets to knock out someone, I want the same chance at violence.”

Phil sighed. “Agent Romanoff, do not cause anyone unnecessary harm. Agent Hill, your need for violence is noted and denied.”

“Should’ve taken your chance to slam that doorman’s face into a wall,” Romanoff said.

“Don’t tempt me to turn around,” Hill muttered.

“Thirty-two seconds.”

He watched Romanoff lead the stuttering man down the hall towards the lobby. The idiot had no idea how to speak to a person’s face, but that was in Romanoff’s advantage. Hill arrived at the curb just as Romanoff reached the door.

“Perhaps the next time I’m in town,” Romanoff said oh so demurely. Once outside, Romanoff caught the helmet Hill tossed and pulled it on as she got on the bike behind her. “He was breathing so heavily I need a shower.”

“I’m so glad I rarely get those kinds of assignments," Hill said as she headed into traffic.

“Next time we’re switching.”

“Over my dead body.”

“I’d arrange that, but it would defeat the purpose.”

Phil made sure his amusement wasn’t heard over the comms. “I’ll continue to monitor the office until you arrive, agents. I’d like to be leaving Toronto before nightfall.”

“That’s not enough time for a shower.” Romanoff's pout was clear even if he could see nothing of her.

“If I break the speed limit, it will be.”

He sighed. “Hill-”

The sound of the motorcycle revving drowned him out. Oh, well. It wasn’t as if she’d be caught.

Natasha wasn’t sure what to make of Maria Hill. It was apparent the woman didn’t have the clearance to know the details of Natasha’s history. As far as Hill was concerned, Natasha was a former Russian assassin. Oddly enough, that didn’t seem to bother her. Then again, SHIELD did its fair share of assassinations. 

Hill didn’t treat her like a rookie agent, or like someone who had done the wrong thing by betraying her country of origin. If it was necessary for the job, Natasha was given information. If Natasha wanted to know something not job-related, she was expected to ask and would be given the best answer available to Hill at the time. 

While Natasha wasn’t exactly social, she understood the necessity of building connections. If she was seen as aloof and arrogant, very few would be willing to watch her back. Natasha was used to working alone and didn’t necessarily need anyone watching her back. SHIELD, however, believed in teamwork. 

Which is how she found herself having at least one meal a day in the mess hall. If she wasn't with Hill, she ate with two other agents introduced to her for purely social reasons, Triplett and Carter. Through the three of them, Natasha began to slowly network throughout SHIELD.

Two weeks after her first mission with Hill and Coulson, Barton dropped his tray onto the table and fell into a seat. 

“About time you showed your face,” Morse muttered. “Your disappearance was making people twitch.”

He smirked. “Aw, do people get nervous when they can’t see the sniper?”

Natasha tilted her head at him when Triplett tried to do introductions. “They don’t kill agents for insubordination here? Good to know.” 

Barton fluttered his eyes at her. “I’m too good looking to kill.”

Hill shook her head. “No, we just know you’ll be twice as annoying haunting the place.”

There was a chorus of agreement, even as Barton protested just how annoying he was. Natasha had no idea if this whole working for SHIELD thing was going to go well for her. But, right now, things could definitely be worse.

Chapter Text

Natasha glanced down the range when she heard the telltale clicks of a gun being put together. It was a bit more rapid then she expected of a SHIELD agent. Meandering down to the last stall led her to Hill. Who was now dismantling another gun with a blindfold. On the left side of the booth was a block meant to hold firearms of various sizes. The right wall held pegs with holstered weapons hanging off it.

Natasha counted twenty-two, not all of them standard issue from any government she had encountered. And she had encountered quite a few different kinds of governments as a Red Room agent.

Take out of the holster. Dismantle. Clean and oil if necessary. Rebuild. Slip into the proper slot in the block. Methodic. No hesitation.

After three more guns, Hill tugged the blindfold up and ear protection down. She looked over her shoulder at Natasha and raised an eyebrow. All Natasha could do in response was shrug. She didn’t know why she stopped to watch, either.

Maybe it was because she didn’t have to be anyone around Hill. Maybe it was because Hill was the one person beside Director Fury who always, from the start, spoke to Natasha and not her chest. Or, maybe, it was one of many things she was learning she didn’t know.

“It’s soothing,” Hill said as she took stock of her cleaning supplies. “Your shooting won’t disrupt me.”

But maybe it would disrupt Natasha herself more than be the help she hoped it would be. “You up for a challenge?”

“What kind?”

“You dismantle, I steal a piece, and you tell me what it is when you put it back together.”

Hill didn’t really think about it. “Sure.”

Leaving the ammunition, they moved the firearms to a meeting room connected to the range. Once spread out and set up, Hill slipped the blindfold back on and got to it. Once it was all laid out, Natasha took a firing pin and tapped the table to signal Hill. It wasn’t long before the piece was named and handed over.

Natasha was a hint impressed. Hill knew her guns. No matter how small or relatively insignificant the part, Hill knew it by name.

“Not gonna ask why I’m up at two a.m.?” Natashas asked after half an hour.

Hill continued to take things apart. “I’d hate for you to ask the same of me.”

Point. “You know where a girl can get a pint of ice cream this late?”

“Depends on the ice cream.”

“...The milk kind?” She stole the obvious trigger.

Hill huffed, amused. “Will any ice cream suffice, or do you have a brand in mind?”

“Barton was going on about something called Fish Food.”

“Phish with a ‘ph’ instead of an ‘f.’ Trigger. I know where you can get that, yeah.”

Natasha handed over the part. “Then let’s go.”

“This is a group activity?”

“Two people aren’t a group. And it takes a few weeks for payroll and SHIELD to set up a non-existent Russian defector.” 

Hill sighed. “So I’m only good for my money. Understood.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Is everyone here a sarcastic asshole?”

“Coping mechanism.” She took the blindfold off and started to pack everything away. She considered Natasha as she worked. “Lemme know if you need more than ice cream.”

Natasha didn’t respond. She knew she didn’t look as if the last two nights had been sleepless. SHIELD could deprogram her, but the memories remained. Exhaustion would, eventually, keep the nightmares at bay.

But under the harsh lights of American retail, Natasha figured Hill should learn the hard way not to make undefined offers. A lot of what Natasha grabbed was protein bars, but there was some less than stellar food in the mix as well. Although the cafeteria never closed in SHIELD due to the never-ending cycle of agents and missions, Natasha didn’t always feel like leaving her bunk. Didn’t feel like putting on a personality. Having food on hand would be...a comfort.

And, whatever the fuck a Cow Tail was, Natasha was going to find out before dawn.

When Hill saw the pile on the counter, she blinked. “If you decide to stick with the bubblegum toothpaste, I’m no longer associating with you.”

Finally, some kind of judgment. “It’s far too late for you to escape my web.”

“It’s only been three weeks, and I have my ways.”

“My ways are more effective.”

“And yet, here you are. In a Walgreens. At almost oh-three-hundred.”

Natasha sniffed. “All part of my plan.”

Hill rolled her eyes and punched in a phone number that wasn’t hers on the keypad.

The clerk was completely unaffected by their conversation or Natasha’s grabbag. “You have a twenty-dollar award. Would you like to use it?”

“Yes, thank you.” She snagged the back of Natasha’s jacket before she got two steps away. “That wasn’t an invitation to go find more. I’m gonna have to help you carry this as it is.”

“Not if you let me get that backpack.”

“The one with sharks and planets on it?”

“Exactly the one.”

“The fuck are you going to do with a backpack with sharks and planets?”

Natasha shrugged. “Carry stuff.”

The staredown was long enough for the clerk to go back to his sudoku puzzle. Hill had by no means caved, but muttered, “Fine,” and released Natasha’s jacket.

Everything fit in the backpack.

Phish Food became one of Natasha’s top three favorite flavors of ice cream.

And four days later, after a successful mission, Hill chucked a large protein bar at Natasha’s head.

“Aw, how come she gets snacks?” Barton whined.

Hill rolled her eyes. “Because she did more than sit behind a rifle and bitch about the dust.”

Natasha smirked at him as she chewed. She was grateful, though. Her higher metabolism, while not completely expended, was making her feel a bit peckish. And even if she never thanked Hill, from then on out, she could usually expect someone to hand her food if there was a spare minute.

It took her years to realize it was in that moment she knew Maria Hill would always have her back.

Chapter Text

Melinda choked out the guard in front of her. When he went limp, she carefully dragged him back to the room she was using as body storage. Once the door was secure and barricaded, she crept back up to the hall. Hill was on the other end, and she nodded once. They met up and headed to the next area.

Hill stiffened and glared at the ceiling. “Romanoff, kill the lights.”

In the building’s electrical room, the spy didn’t hesitate to plunge the floor into darkness.

“What’s going on?” Coulson demanded.

No one had time to answer before Melinda was being tugged down and under Hill’s body as explosions ripped holes in the ceiling. Armed guards dropped into the hall on either side of them. 

“Excessive,” Melinda muttered, adjusting her face mask against the dust.

“Stay down,” Hill said before she was gone. The sounds of surprised grunts and groans of pain were punctuated by the occasional gunshot. “Clear.”

Melinda turned on a headlamp. Hill’s eyes glinted, reflecting wide pupils. Melinda didn’t see the evidence of such genetic manipulation often enough for it to be anything less than eerie when she did. “That was unnecessary.” 

Hill smirked. “I don’t know, I kind of like the idea of sacrificing a whole floor to attack two people.”

“You would.” She let Hill take the lead, knowing the supersoldier would be better able to handle threats in the dark before Melinda even knew they existed. 

They had traveled maybe twenty feet when the hairs on the back of Melinda’s neck stood on end. She barely heard the curse from Maria before the floor gave out from under them. Before she could try to orient herself, two arms caught her and slowed her descent just a hint. She felt Hill let out a sudden, pained gust of breath as her eyes adjusted to the sudden change in lighting.

Three guards were dropped by Hill’s bullets before Melinda could fire a single shot. When the seven guards were down, Melinda took stock of the situation. Her eyes widened at the sight beside her.

Hill’s leg was tangled with the debris at a nasty angle.

“I can handle it,” she gritted out. “Go.”

Were it anyone else, Melinda wouldn’t dare leave them alone. “Let’s get you out of direct line of sight.” They started to move debris as she reported to Coulson a broken leg and stranded agent.

“How bad a break?” he asked.

The supersoldier laughed dryly. “Two compound fractures if the way my leg is bent is a hint.”

“May, can you complete the mission?”

“Yes.” She locked eyes with Maria as she settled just inside an empty office doorway. “I’m coming back for you.”

“I can get out of here myself.”

“If you die of blood loss, the people who will mourn you will destroy my career.”

“I am not dying.” And, honestly, the level of confidence would’ve been arrogant in anyone else. 

“I’m about done here,” Romanoff said. “I can finish the next task with some dead weight slowing me down, no problem.”

Barton snorted. “I think she’s calling you fat.”

“I’m not the one who ate a whole pie last night,” Hill shot off, shooing Melinda away.

“It wasn’t a properly sized pie, so it doesn’t count.”

Melinda shook her head but went on her way. She had to count on supersoldier training being effective even ten years after the fact. 

Forty-five agonizing minutes later, they were all loaded up into a utility van and heading out of the city. Melinda kept an eye on Maria and Romanoff. The supersoldier was feigning sleep, and the super spy was watching her curiously from her position next to the makeshift leg brace. Melinda wondered what puzzle was forming in the Russian’s head; ordinary people didn’t hold it together when two compound fractures mutilated their leg. Even SHIELD agents had their limits. 

“Fifty bucks says she’s worse about staying in Medical than I am,” Barton said.

“Sucker’s bet,” Melinda replied.

“Aw, c’mon, May, lemme have my fun.”

“What makes you think I’d take any of your bets?” Romanoff asked, amused.

He huffed. “What did I do to end up surrounded by harsh women?”

“Would you like the list alphabetically or chronologically?” Coulson asked.

“Et tu, Coulson?!”

As the two assassins started to bicker, Melinda made a mental note to keep an eye on who accessed Maria’s files and when. They would need to know if Romanoff went looking into things she shouldn’t. She hoped Maria’s resilience wasn’t about to destroy either her or Romanoff’s lives. 

Victoria had vowed to never work the Trio of Terror again. She had kept that vow. Most senior agents were learning to never allow Carter, Triplett, and Hill into the same room together. Separately, however, they were manageable.

Which is how she ended up on babysitting duty when Hill broke her leg in two places. The injury didn’t seem to be slowing her down, although she was grumpy about it. Victoria couldn’t blame her. And she was starting to see what a few others had as well.

Hill was a natural leader. She was confident, able to see the bigger picture while giving a shit about those around her. Finding the balance between getting the job done and keeping agents safe wasn’t something everyone could do. Hill also didn’t take anyone’s bullshit. That was proving to be entertaining.

“I’m sorry, are you the one monitoring heat signatures?...That was a yes or no question...Then shut up, stay still, and wait for the all-clear.”

Victoria shook her head. Hill was either going to be appreciated or hated, there would be no in between. Which wasn’t the worst thing about a SHIELD career, given her own experience. 

Two hours later, the field agents were safely back on transport back to base. Victoria both was and wasn’t surprised to see a world-renowned assassin appear. The Black Widow’s full file wasn’t known to many, but Victoria was of high enough clearance to access it for missions. She had no real idea why Romanoff had decided Hill was worth the time and effort; perhaps it was merely due to Hill treating her like any other agent.

“If you’re done bossing other people around,” Romanoff said as she crossed the command hub, “want to punch something?”

“Yes, please,” Hill said as she got her crutches under her. “I’ll admit to being a rookie, but even I don’t blatantly disobey orders just to look like some action movie hero.”

“It’s the testosterone. Too much of it rots the brain.”

Victoria raised an eyebrow at the spy. “I know for a fact you don’t have the clearance to enter this room.”

“I, in fact, do not.” The amusement was in her eyes, but the rest of her face was a mask of indifference. 

Hill headed for the door. “Thank you, Agent Hand. And I thought you’d be clocked off by now, Romanoff.”

She shrugged as she fell in step behind Hill. “I don’t exactly have much of a social life. Besides, you put up with my bullshit a lot better than Barton.”

“Romanoff,” Victoria called after them. “I’d like a report on how you got in here.”

“A lady doesn’t reveal all her secrets, Agent Hand.”

“A lady will if she doesn’t want to find herself reassigned away from those who put up with her bullshit.”

“You’ll have the report and the name of the agent who failed by dawn, Agent Hand.”

“Thank you, Agent Romanoff.” She rolled her eyes as the duo left the hub. She made another mental note to never work with those two at the same time, either. 

Jasper watched his team of agents discuss the information provided to them by Agent 56. It was damn good intel and an even better commentary on the state of the situation. He sincerely hoped 56 would stick with SHIELD for a while. 

With a plan decided upon, the meeting came to an end, and the agents dispersed for the day. The mission would start at dawn tomorrow, but they all had more than enough time to prep.

“May I ask why there is no name attached to the agent who gathered all this information?” Romanoff asked as the room emptied.

Jasper shrugged. “Sure. Some people are never named for their protection. They also may or may not be official employees of SHIELD, in some cases.”

“And some of them are really thorough profilers,” Triplett said, leaning against the door jamb. “It’d unnerve people if they knew just how well some agents around them could get into the mind of a psychotic killer.”

Romanoff raised an eyebrow. “Or a more thoroughly trained spy and assassin?”

He grinned. “Something like that. Why, curious about who caught your wavelength well enough to get a sniper scope set on you?”

“Let’s call it professional curiosity,” she replied delicately. She frowned. “You don’t have the clearance to know who I am.”

“I don’t. But every decent agent has their ways.”

“A better agent doesn’t reveal their sources,” Jasper drawled.

Triplett’s grin grew devious. “Dodging Agent Romanoff will be an actual challenge.” He tipped an invisible hat at her. “Please, my lady, learn my secrets with your best skills.”

Her lips quirked up just a bare hint. “I just might.”

Jasper shook his head. “Fair warning, Romanoff: sometimes SHIELD does know how to keep secrets, despite what the rumor mill would tell you.”

“I’d hope so, or else I’m as good as dead.”

Triplett scoffed. “Even if your former employers came after you, at least four agents have your back. And not just because we like watching it.”

She smiled up at him, teeth gleaming. “I will disembowel you.”

“You won’t be the first person to do so. And since my kind of chicks dig scars…”

Jasper rolled his eyes. “Triplett, I will back Romanoff if the Director asks why she hung you up by your entrails.”

“Make that five agents.” He left the room, somehow managing to whistle the Carmen Sandiego theme. 

That Jasper knew the tune silently tormented him. As he left the room, he took solace in the fact Romanoff seemed lost in thought. Well, if the conversation gave her something to chew on, he’d take the small victory. It’d be another long while before he managed to surprise the Black Widow.

“I honestly don’t see how Romanoff’s boredom is my problem, sir.”

Nick didn’t bother to give the supersoldier his full attention. “I wanted her dead. You get to learn the reason why.”

Hill scoffed. “If that was true, you would’ve shot her yourself, not deprogrammed her.”

He dug into his far too full in-box and tossed a blue folder across the desk. “She’s caused a dozen agents to land in Medical. By just standing in one place.”

“That’s on their situational awareness, not her.”

“Feeling protective, Hill?”

“No, sir.” She sounded far too surly for her words to be any kind of true.

“You know I heard that lie plain as we see each other, right?”

“Why not just give her a mission?”

“It’s called downtime. Maybe you supersoldiers don’t need it, but I like facades.” He glared at a report as he skimmed it. “How quickly can you pick up new aircraft piloting?”

“Under duress, probably fast enough to keep a team alive. Barton’s more natural at piloting, sir.”

“Then get the fuck out of my office, find Delta, send one of them to me, and keep the other one from causing more dumbass injuries.” 

She stood far too smoothly and eagerly. “Yes, sir.”

“And if you send the wrong one to me, I will promote you to agent handler, give you a bunch of rookies, and send you all to Japan.”

“...Would now be a bad time to mention dealing with the Yakuza is easy, sir?”

“Hill!”

“Yes, sir. Barton to you, sir, Romanoff to an obstacle course, sir. And if we break the course, sir, repairs are out of our pay, sir.” She was gone a moment later.

“Smart asses, all of you,” he muttered under his breath, knowing she heard him. “Fucking lucky you’re all worth it.”

He knew she heard that, too.

Which, like all things, he intended.

Chapter Text

Maria looked at the fire escape when the shadows shifted in the corner of her eye. Romanoff joined her on the ledge of the building, passing over a bottle of beer.

“Thanks.”

Romanoff nodded and sipped. Maria was nowhere near inebriated. But at least Triplett sprung for the damn good stuff. The view wasn’t amazing, nor was it exactly silent, but at least she could breathe something other than body heat.

“Antoine’s too drunk to notice if you wanted to head out.”

Romanoff shrugged. “Same goes for you.”

She shook her head. “Someone has to stay sober, get him into bed, and make sure he wakes up in the morning.”

“I don’t think Carter will be much help if you were counting on her.”

“Pft, fucking lightweight.”

“She’s undercover too often to risk actual inebriation.”

“Which is entirely legitimate, and I’m relieved she takes the job seriously. She’s still a fucking lightweight.”

“Such harsh judgment of your friends.”

“Yeah, well, they deserve it.” Maria drained her bottle and dropped it into the alley before them.

The muffled clatter spoke of a direct hit into the dumpster.

Half an hour later, Maria pushed herself up and offered a hand to the spy. Romanoff took the assistance even if they both knew it was unnecessary. Heading down the fire escape, they started betting on who was passed out, who had vomited, and who had left. After a quick walkthrough of the apartment, they grabbed another slice of cake and retreated back to the fire escape.

“So, what kind of alcohol will be at your birthday party?” Romanoff asked.

Maria shook her head. “It’s not so much a party as it is an excuse for Sharon to try her hand at baking. Which usually goes well.”

“Usually?”

“She attempted a vodka chocolate ice cream cake a couple years ago. Tasted fine. The consistency, however...” She made a face and wondered if Romanoff’s amusement was real or for show. “What do Russian defectors do for their birthdays?”

Romanoff shrugged, looking into the apartment as a chorus of laughter erupted. “Haven’t celebrated in a while.” She saw Maria smirk. “No. Do not give Carter ideas. I WILL kill you.”

“You say the nicest things to me, Romanoff.” She stood and headed inside. “Hey, Sharon!”

“You’re not going to live to see your next birthday!” Romanoff called after her.

Maria flipped her off and wondered if Romanoff would forget about this before her birthday later in the year.

Natasha sighed with relief as she pulled up to the truck stop and saw Hill and Sitwell in the diner's window. It was weird. She had never before felt relief when rendezvousing with her Red Room handlers. But seeing two SHIELD agents was enough to lower her vigilance, just a hint. Not a lot; she wasn’t stupid. But enough that she could close her eyes for just a minute and breathe.

The mission wasn’t all that hard or even complicated. It was more a test of how well Natasha worked undercover with SHIELD directives. But it was the first time she had gone three weeks without contacting SHIELD outside of one way summaries every few days. Since she was damn good at what she did, she was never told to change course.

Getting out of the car, Natasha took a deep breath of the desert night air. The truck stop wasn’t exactly in the middle of nowhere; another hour would see a small town with a decent motel and two fast food places. But the stop was older than the town, so it stayed. She pulled open the door to the diner and nodded at the cook, who raised a spatula in greeting.

“If you could please explain to Hill why maple syrup is superior to the peach jam she’s desecrating her pancakes with, I’ll be in your debt.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “I like having people in my debt. Unfortunately for you, Sitwell,” she stole a bite of Hill’s pancakes, getting nothing more than an indignant huff in response, “Hill’s taste buds are superior.”

“Am I in your debt even if I didn’t ask for help?” she asked.

Natasha smirked. “The ways you pay me back could be very pleasurable for both of us.”

“Not my type.”

Natasha demurred. “I could be any type you want.”

Hill rolled her eyes and stabbed at more pancakes. “Coworker is not my type, Romanoff.”

Pouting, she said, “Too bad it was Barton sent after me and not you.”

Sitwell scoffed. “I think you would’ve ended up punched in the face if you tried to seduce Hill in the middle of an op.”

Hill was nodding as she chewed. Natasha sighed and stole a slice of bacon off Sitwell’s plate. She contemplated quitting SHIELD just so she could relentlessly flirt with the agents who had turned her down for the same reason. She was almost certain the Director would take her back once she had completed the list.

Not the best use of her skills, but it’d be entertaining, at least.

The two agents finished their meal, allowing Natasha to take bits and pieces as she pleased. They understood why she wouldn’t want anything they hadn’t already consumed. They were essentially testing the food for her.

Outside, Sitwell headed to the 18-wheeler that would transport Natasha’s assigned car the rest of the way. Hill would drive another vehicle, and Natasha could close her eyes in the passenger seat. Sleep wouldn’t happen, but being able to look away from the endless dark road would be a relief.

Once Natasha drove the car into the container, she and Hill locked it up and waved Sitwell on his way. Natasha settled into the leather of the plain sedan and turned up the heated seat.

“Do you mind music?” Hill asked.

“Nothing too loud.”

“Of course.”

Santana started to strum through the car. Good to know her companion had decent taste in music. Natasha closed her eyes, amused at Hill’s almost silent humming along. The next few hours weren’t going to be too bad at all.

If anyone were to ask just how much time had passed, Natasha would never be able to say. She was relaxed one moment and braced for impact the next. Hill controlled the crash as much as she could, but they still kicked up dust on the side of the road as the car spun in a few circles.

“What the fuck?!” Hill demanded as she slammed her seatbelt off.

“Red Room.” Natasha was out of the car a moment later and heading for the treeline as two motorcycles closed in, a transport van on their tails.

It wasn’t that Natasha had forgotten about the threat, she just...figured they would’ve moved in when she was alone on a mission. Attacking a SHIELD agent as well as Natasha wasn’t going to do the Red Room any favors. Not that the Red Room would care or worry about the repercussions of a dead SHIELD agent.

Electricity crackled. The whump of a body hitting the ground followed. Natasha looked behind her to see Hill twitching from a taser fired by one of the cyclists. Natasha pulled her gun and shot them both dead. Before she could take two steps to drag Hill into the trees, multiple laser sights landed on her from both sides of the highway.

They were never meant to get far at all.

Natasha froze and didn’t move when the van disgorged three more Red Room agents and her first handler.

“Natalia, it has been too long.”

She shrugged as she was secured by the agents. “Not long enough.”

“Perhaps.” He nudged Hill with a foot. “Bring this one. If a Black Widow is willing to come back for her, she may be of use.”

Natasha didn’t look at Hill as she was led past her. She knew his words were full of shit. Hill would’ve been killed outright if they weren’t planning on bringing her anyway. She was tazed for a reason.

Natasha had a horrible feeling she was going to find out why before the night came to an end.

Chapter Text

Maria stayed down and curled up as she was thrown in the back of a cargo van. What was with bad guys and creepy cargo vans? Then again, sometimes, SHIELD was just as gaudy. And at least this thing was less likely to be reinforced against someone like her.

Romanoff was secured in heavier manacles than Maria’s plain old handcuffs. Two deceptively strong women held Romanoff down on a bench by her shoulders. If she tried to fight back, it would result in a nasty stab wound if the daggers in the agents’ free hands were anything to go by.

Maria wasn’t too worried. Yet. Sitwell would see they were no longer behind him on his radar. Plus, the destruction of the car would initiate an automatic distress signal.

One of the young women ran a device over Maria and Romanoff. “Sub-dermal trackers disabled.”

Maria scoffed. “As long as you believe that.”

A cattle prod found her shoulder. It hurt, but not as much as they suspected it did. She yelped appropriately and let the current shake and shiver her body. An electrical charge was still going to make her lose control no matter how much of a super-soldier she was.

“Did you honestly think SHIELD could keep you safe, Natalia?” an older, smarmy man asked.

“Not at all.” She shrugged. “But access to a variety of food has been refreshing.”

“You stick to blue Jell-O,” Maria pointed out. The cattle prod found her hip bone a little too well.

“The other flavors don’t taste as good.” Romanoff got a sucker punch for her troubles.

The man looked between them. “Perhaps you will serve more purpose than first thought, SHIELD agent.”

Romanoff’s eyes hardened. “I don’t care if you kill her.”

Maria nodded in agreement. “I didn’t become a field agent thinking I’d retire at old age.”

“Your mind is still of use to us,” he said. “And gathering that intel from your head will be a test of what our little escapee has learned and retained.”

Maria wondered if Manticore ever planned to train them against torture. Perhaps they were never meant to be taken prisoner. After all, who could best one of them?

The man pulled a handwritten list from a pocket inside his suit jacket. “SHIELD may have made a valiant attempt at erasing the Red Room’s influence from your mind. But they could not have removed everything without breaking you. Therefore, it is only a matter of patience.”

Maria saw the way Romanoff locked herself away. It was in the way her eyes went flat; Maria had seen that look in her siblings' eyes when they were ordered to kill the one who was seizing. The weakness had to be eliminated.

But it was never easy to murder one of the few who knew them so perfectly.

A series of words were read off. Romanoff didn’t react.

“Let me try,” Maria said. “Cock. Sucking. Mothe-”

Oh, cattle prod to the spine was not a fun time for her brain. Ow. Fuck. Ow.

The next phrase also got no response. Maria didn’t get far in her second attempt to interrupt. After the next set of words was read off, they hit her before she could speak. She needed a few moments to breathe and settle her nerves.

Maria was a super soldier, not invulnerable.

The seventh set of words made Romanoff’s fingers twitch. He repeated it, and while she fisted her hands, they still flinched at the end of each term.

“Пожар. Полярная звезда. Тень. Забыли. Точность. Урок. Штиль."

Maria knew Romanoff was only so strong. The words were digging in and locking away everything that made the assassin unique. Maria lashed out with her cuffed feet, kicking the man behind the knees. He tumbled into Romanoff before anyone could catch him.

The cattle prod was pressed to the base of her neck.

When Maria could see again, Romanoff looked a lot more relieved than she had a minute ago. The man was ordering Maria to be gagged.

The words started up again. This time, he was joined by everyone in the van. Maria could see the combined effect taking hold. She was going to have to do something stupid. But they both had a better chance outside of the van than within.

And with the light fading from Romanoff’s eyes, Maria was willing to fly out the back doors at speed. It would have to be enough to reignite the fight in the other super-soldier.

Maria wasn’t sure what her move would be if it didn’t.

Then her comm crackled to life.

“Caw caw, mother fuckers.”

Maria braced for impact and saw Romanoff do the same two moments before the van jolted. Maria broke the cuffs as the van tipped, careering off the road. She caught Romanoff, who was unable to regain any semblance of balance with her cuffs still secured. Maria braced them against the doors, holding to the locked handles, so they didn’t rattle all over the van.

When the movement stopped, Maria whirled around and was punching one agent before she had time to blink. Stealing the sidearm, Maria took the headshots presented to her. The crumpled and burning front end of the van would have to take care of the front passenger if Barton hadn’t.

Maria shoved the back doors open, grabbed a still dazed Romanoff under the shoulders, and dragged her out and behind a fallen tree. The van could yet explode, which would either be a good or bad thing depending on what SHIELD knew of the situation.

“Romanoff.” Maria grabbed her flashlight off her belt. “Romanoff!” A quick flash into green eyes showed nothing but a blank stare. “For fuck’s sake, Romanoff, if all it takes are a handful of words-”

The van exploded.

“Hill, status.” That was Sitwell. He sounded legitimately worried.

“We’re clear, sir.” She locked eyes with the spy in front of her and channeled every bit of Manticore she hated. “Wake the fuck up, Natasha.”

Blink.

Blink.

“Maria.”

The relief that flooded Maria’s chest was like nothing she had ever felt before. “Thank fuck, I was going to try shooting you next.”

She sighed and leaned her head back against the tree trunk, eyes slipping closed. “No, you weren’t.”

Maria sat down beside her, noting Barton checking the wreckage as he made his way over to them. “As long as you believe that.” She pressed close to Natasha as the cold night air swept through.

And if Natasha pressed back, leaving no space between them, well, it only made sense.

Chapter Text

Maria cracked an eye open when there was a knock at the door. Antoine stood and put on his gruff older brother face before opening the door. Barton and Romanoff were on the other side. Maria didn’t have to tell her cousin to let them in; he already knew Romanoff was one of the few allowed to visit without an invitation.

Antoine left the room and started to challenge Barton to a shooting contest later.

Romanoff leaned a hip against the side of Maria’s bed. “You don’t look like you’ve been zapped by a cattle prod half a dozen times.”

“Maybe not, but my organs are feeling a little roasted.” Which wasn’t a total lie, and Maria didn’t mind the downtime for once. “You look like shit.”

Romanoff rolled her eyes. “A couple days of being deprogrammed will do that. I’m stuck with minders for a week or two until everyone’s sure I won’t just start a murder spree.”

Maria scoffed. “As if you would just start murdering people. You’re a spy. You’d steal information first, then murder on your way out if necessary.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You know too much. I’m going to have to kill you first.”

“You’d try and fail, just like everyone else before you.”

“I’m like no one else.”

“As long as you believe that.”

The corners of Romanoff’s mouth twitched up. She tossed a Snickers on Maria’s stomach. “Thanks, by the way.”

Maria knew she shouldn’t play dumb, not with Romanoff, but it’s what an average person would do. “You’re the one giving me something. Shouldn’t I be thanking you?”

“Fishing for compliments is beneath you.” She sighed. “There aren’t many people who would...fight for me as hard as you did.”

Maria shrugged. “I don’t know if you’re of the same mind, but I consider us friends. If it’s in my power and ability to help you, I will.”

Romanoff stared at her for a long moment. “Yeah, I guess helping you haul Triplett’s drunken body into bed is a friends-only activity.”

“I had that handled, you know.”

“You were going to handle him into a wall if I hadn’t grabbed his feet.”

“He would’ve deserved it,” Maria groused. She sighed. “But for future reference, is this gonna be a common thing for you?

Romanoff considered the question for a moment. “I don’t think it’ll happen again unless near perfect conditions are met. That man was one of the few original trainers left.”

“And they can’t keep sending people in due to a lack of numbers, I’m guessing.”

She nodded once. “When the program started, technology wasn’t what it is today. It’s easier to buy people rather than...groom someone with my skill set.”

Maria unwrapped the candy bar and split it in half, sharing the slightly smaller half with Romanoff. “A programmer, assistant, or housekeeper only needs to be paid once. An agent has to be trained and maintained for as long as they’re alive.” 

“And replacing someone who’s taken up so many resources only costs more resources.” She shrugged. “I’m a product of the times.”

“The work you’ve done for SHIELD proves you’re not exactly obsolete.”

Romanoff shook her head. “SHIELD agents are here of their own free will.”

Maria scoffed. “For the most part.” She waved off the questioning look. “You’ve seen Barton’s criminal record. It was SHIELD or a life sentence.”

Romanoff watched Maria’s reaction as she said, “Barton was supposed to deliver my death sentence.”

“If the Director wanted you dead, he wouldn’t have sent Barton.” Maria held Romanoff’s gaze for a long minute.

Antoine stuck his head in the door. “Hide the contraband, Napoleon incoming.”

“She’s not that bad,” both women said at the same time.

“You’re just saying that out of lady agent allegiance.” He closed the door before they could respond.

Maria stuck her half-eaten candy bar under her pillow. Romanoff sat in the chair, her untouched chocolate secreted away. Doctor Janet Fraiser entered the room and nodded at the assassin.

“Good to see you up and moving, Agent Romanoff.”

“I think I’m allowed only because of what I get up to when bored,” Romanoff mused.

“To be fair, field agents need situational awareness.”

She grinned, shark-like and deadly. “You’re my favorite doctor.”

“That’s not permission to send more agents my way, Agent.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Maria scoffed. “Holy shit, you actually said that with real respect.”

The spy shrugged. “Very, very few people deserve it.”

“True. What are the chances of getting yard time, Doc?”

Fraiser considered her for a moment. “You get half an hour, you can go out to the atrium and -sit-. Your muscles will not thank you for overexertion so soon after being electrocuted.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Maria caught Antoine’s jacket that Romanoff tossed at her. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“And if you insist on getting something from the vending machines, don’t overdo it and don’t bring it back into medical.”

“Of course, ma’am.” Maria took Romanoff’s help out of bed and tested her legs carefully. “Yeah, I should be good.”

Fraiser opened the door as Maria stuffed her feet into shoes. “Agent Triplett, find me after Agent Hill’s yard time, I want to make sure she doesn’t overdo it.”

He nodded. “You got it, Doc Fraiser.”

Maria decided she wasn’t going to comment on how she was boxed in on three sides; Natasha and Antoine beside her, Barton at her back. She was fine, really. Her body recovered quick, and the bed rest was only helping. But they cared enough to be close enough to catch her if she faltered.

She had a feeling the concept would apply in more than just the physical aspect sooner or later.

Natasha watched and waited. She was patient and observant. It helped that her target considered Natasha safe enough to lower her guard.

But Hill gave nothing away.

Or, nothing Natasha was looking for.

There was no fear, distrust, or contempt. Hill continued on as if the Red Room hadn’t planned to let Natasha torture information out of her. Nothing about their...friendship changed. Well, besides the fact it wasn’t deteriorating. It seemed to be getting better. Deeper.

Natasha didn’t understand.

She caught the water bottle chucked at her head without looking.

“You’ve been at this for four hours,” Clint said as he tossed a towel at her. “Coulson says you're done unless you want it to be a doctor’s order.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Four hours at a punching bag is nothing.”

“Obviously, else you would’ve figured out whatever’s going on in that far too intricate brain of yours.” He shrugged when she glared at him. “I’m a sniper; I notice things.”

“You notice too much.”

“I do, much to some senior agents’ annoyance. C’mon, let’s grab you some food, and you can rant at me on the roof.”

“наседка.”

“That didn’t sound like a curse.”

“You realize most consider my mere presence to be a curse, yes?”

“Welcome to SHIELD. We’re not like most.”

“That’s the problem,” Natasha groused. Still, she waited until they were in the corner of the roof where vents and fans kept the possibility of being overheard close to zero. It wouldn’t stop some listening devices, but Natasha made sure to disable everything.

SHIELD R&D had a love/hate for her and her tiny EMPs.

“So.” He took a bite out of a burrito. “What’s up?”

“Besides your lack of manners? Hill’s not afraid of me.”

Still talking around his food, he said, “If I had manners, they’d make me do the undercovers involving suits.” He swallowed. “You’re grumpy because Hill got a glimpse of your closet skeletons and didn’t bolt?”

“I’m not grumpy.” She honestly didn’t care if her demeanor made her words a lie.

“Agitated. Confused. Otherwise not understanding. Anyway. Hill isn’t someone who’s gonna judge you the same way she judges the Red Room. She’s one of those actual smart ones that can separate the agent from the institution.”

“Which is why they keep trying to make a handler out of her.”

“Yeah, she likes the fieldwork way too much. She’ll do it eventually, though, if only to keep people alive.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. She had seen Maria at work from behind the scenes; it was relieving as fuck to see someone who actually gave an equal shit about the mission and the agents. “Her spine was electrocuted. That could’ve ended her field career. But she kept distracting them.”

“So, you’re saying it was her choice.”

“But why? Why endure that much pain for me? For anyone? I know I’m a valuable asset, but-”

“You’re more than that, and you fucking know it, Romanoff.” He had to be serious; he put his food down. “You think Hill only gives a flying fuck about what you can do for SHIELD? You’re far more observant than I am, and you know that while she has a lot of connections within SHIELD, she only socializes with a handful of people.” He snorted. “Fuck, it took a good year for her to get used to how I run my mouth when we’re on missions. She invites you. Carter and Triplett are the ones who invite me. Morse has never been invited, and you know how much Hill loves the intel she delivers.”

“Some social concept of friendship isn’t worth risking being paralyzed or killed!”

He stared at her. “What, you wouldn’t do the exact same thing for her? For anyone here?”

And...Natasha couldn’t instantly say “no.” As much as she knew better, she knew it was unwise to grow attached to anyone or anything...She knew she could walk away from SHIELD and everyone here if necessary. But enduring even simple electrocution for anyone...

“If you have to think about it, you know the answer.”

She ate more of her food, trying to find the words to respond appropriately. “I was trained to die for the Red Room, not for the agents around me. If they died, that was their failing.”

He shrugged. “Of the two of us, you’re not the old dog that can’t learn a new trick.”

She punched him in the shoulder. “You’re crude and unprofessional.”

“I’d like that on my tombstone.”

“We don’t get tombstones.”

“Not official ones. Get one of those gaudy granite ones with all the engravings and shit.” He spread his hands above his head. “World’s Second Best Archer. Crude and Unprofessional.”

Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “Second best?”

“Being the best means I’ve got nothing to work towards.”

She watched him as he ate. “How do you say things like that and not sound like a greeting card?”

“Practice.” He grinned when she glared. “I told you I see a lot. Convinced you to give SHIELD a try, didn’t I?”

“You did imply there were crosshairs on me.”

He pouted. “You mean it wasn’t my charm?”

She shook her head and stood. “I’m going to sleep.”

He leered at her. “Want company?”

“I’ll geld you.”

“You really are cruel, Romanoff.”

She smirked at him before hopping over the vents. “Price of being my friend, Barton.”

And if she knew the words pleased him, well, that’s what being friends meant, right?

“You can have your opinions,” Maria told Romanoff as they headed down the hall to her apartment. “But, they’re wrong.”

“An opinion can’t be wrong,” the spy drawled.

“In this case, it is. Hold this or get my keys.”

Romanoff took the bag of groceries, and Maria unlocked the door. Walking into a wall of light and far more people than she expected in her apartment meant Maria barely felt the spy stealing the gun from the back of her jeans.

There were a dozen plasma orbs littered around the tiny living room. Fiber optic lamps sparkled here and there. Fairy lights flickered around doorways and windows.

“You’re all fucking hilarious,” Maria said as she snagged her gun back from Romanoff.

“We know,” Sharon said, grinning in amusement.

“I warned you we were gonna throw a 'survived death by cattle prod' party,” Antoine reminded.

“Yeah, you didn’t say it was electrical themed, asshole.”

“What the fuck else were you expecting, Hill?” Barton asked from where he was already lounging on her couch with a beer.

“Honestly? An actual tesla coil.”

“That was too expensive,” Romanoff said as she dropped the groceries in the kitchen. “I’m still expecting that meal, by the way.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “You’re getting shit for being the distraction.”

“A tiger can’t change her stripes.”

“Bullshit.”

Sharon poked her head into the bag. “Oh, I know what this makes! I want some, too.”

“At this point, I’m more likely to feed Barton before any of you.”

The sniper snorted. “Wow, she must hate you three right now.”

“She could never.” Antoine smirked; he wouldn’t bring up their familial relationship, but he could easily remind her of it.

“You’re lucky you’re bald.” Maria picked up one of the battery-powered plasma balls. “Sharon, come here.”

She backed away. “Do not.”

Maria gave chase. Her cousins were funny shits. But, really, she didn’t want them any other way.

Chapter Text

“What was that sound?” Natasha demanded.

“Something important just got shot off,” Barton said with false cheer as he tried to control the Cessna’s descent.

Natasha saw Hill brace her arms against Carter and Triplett, pinning them in their chairs, even with the seat restraints. Natasha braced for impact herself as they headed for the mountainous forest lit by the late afternoon sun. 

It’d be almost beautiful if not for the way it was rushing towards them at high speed. 

“Everyone here can swim, right?” Barton asked.

“Pretty sure that’s an Academy requirement,” Carter said.

“I didn’t go to any of SHIELD’s academies,” Natasha told them.

Barton sighed. “Great.”

Natasha barely saw a glimpse of the tiny pond he was aiming for. “We’re going too fast for that puddle.”

“We don’t need to stop, we just need to slow down.”

Natasha took a breath and relaxed completely as the belly of the plane scraped treetops. She could feel the air brakes take effect as the water popped up in front of them. Barton killed the engine and let momentum carry the plane forward.

The impact wasn’t the worst thing Natasha had ever felt, but the jolt would shoot her out of sleep for months to come. A deafening crack of something snapping off the plane made her suck in a breath. The pond came to an abrupt end. The angle of the bank and tilt of the aircraft sent them spinning along the forest floor.

A solid tree halted them without hesitation.

“Ow,” Carter muttered.

“But did you die?” Barton asked.

“I don’t know, man,” Triplett said. “I doubt my arm is supposed to be eaten by metal.”

Natasha twisted around in her seat to see metal and wood pressed right up against him. Hill’s arm was bleeding, and Triplett’s left arm wasn’t visible. Hill moved away slowly as Carter released the restraints. The next five minutes was a careful extraction from what was left of the plane.

With Triplett’s arm in a makeshift sling, they quickly moved away from the crash site.

“Let’s head towards the cliffs,” Hill half ordered. “There could be overhangs and crevices we can use for shelter.”

They started on their way, the sound of their pursuers buzzing overhead. Natasha took point with Barton, and Antoine trailed behind them. Hill and Carter dragged hacked off brushes behind them, obscuring their trail.

It was a little odd how they did it automatically as if it were a matter of fact. Natasha was starting to wonder if there was truth to the whole “Trio of Terror” rumors.

Reaching the rock wall twenty minutes later rewarded them with a cave thirty feet deep. Hill and Barton checked the ground outside and deep within before allowing the others to relax.

“Not in use by local predators or people,” Barton declared.

Triplett went ten feet in and slid down the wall. Natasha watched as Hill, Carter, and Triplett worked together without a word. Hill handed over her sidearm and extra ammo to Carter. In exchange, she received half a dozen daggers and throwing knives from the other two. Triplett still had his sidearm and pulled a small packet from Carter’s back pocket without asking. The tiny metallic square was an emergency blanket that Hill helped him wrap around himself.

“Coulson and May are going to be looking for us,” Barton said. “Of course, so are those assholes.”

Carter kicked a pebble. “And the assholes are likely to find us first.”

“We know they have hounds,” Hill said, apparently peeved by the fact. “I can see if there’s any wildlife I can leave dead just out of sight of the cave.”

Natasha would instead do something than sit and wait, so she nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

“I’ll guard,” Barton said with a sigh. 

“And I’ll make sure this one doesn’t go into shock,” Carter said as she settled next to Triplett. “No dying, Maria.”

“Same.” She headed out of the cave as it began to drizzle through the trees. 

Natasha wanted to be further apart than they were, better to keep an eye out for incoming problems. But the unknown terrain mixed with the rain and coming darkness made it pointless. Besides, if she had been more than six feet from Hill, she would’ve missed the rather impressive knife throwing.

Some type of tree rodent fell out of the branches ahead of them. Hill was quick to snag her dagger with the squirrel firmly impaled on it. She kicked dirt and leaf litter over the small smear of blood.

“Where do you want to leave it?” Natasha asked.

“About five minutes back was a tree one of us could’ve easily climbed into. Stick it up there, out of sight, and the dogs will go wild.”

They headed back in vigilant silence. Once the squirrel was hidden in the branches, they returned to the cave.

“That was quick,” Barton commented, eyes never leaving the darkening forest.

Hill shrugged and settled on Triplett’s other side.

The squirrel worked when the pack of baying hounds was brought up from the pond. An hour later, however, the pack was brought to the cliff face from a different angle and led along the stone wall.

“Do we kill them when they get here or before?” Barton asked.

Natasha motioned to Hill. “Let’s go out and around, make them face the other direction to throw off any who follow.”

Hill nodded, and they jogged into the trees.

That’s when Natasha noticed it.

Hill made no noise.

Her feet were finding dirt, never leaves or twigs. Her clothing wasn’t chafing, her gear didn’t clink or rattle.

The only noise between the two of them was rain.

Natasha had no more time to wonder or question it. They caught up to the dogs and their handlers. Natasha took aim, using the headlamps as targets. Hill sprinted forward and towards the back of the group, causing the dogs to turn in response. Once they faced her-

Natasha dropped one man after another after another. Hill threw her knives into the dogs as leashes went slack. The last two had to be kicked into the stone wall.

The sound of rain was almost a shock when they stopped moving.

Hill gathered her knives, wiping them clean on the sleeves and pant legs of the dead. 

“You good?” Natasha asked.

She nodded once. “Feel a little bad for the dogs, but…”

“You made it clean,” Natasha offered.

“Yeah.” She sighed as they headed back to the cave. No noise came from her even now, though her movements were a little less efficient. At the mouth of the cave, Triplett and Carter startled at the sight of them.

“Make noise,” Carter hissed.

“Why are you mad at me?” Hill demanded. “Barton’s the one that didn’t warn you.”

“Fucking ninjas,” Carter muttered. “Everyone’s getting a bell for Christmas.”

“I can make sure that doesn’t make noise, either,” Natasha said.

It was another long, watchful hour before their comms crackled to life. Coulson’s voice made something in Natasha’s shoulders loosen. She supposed she could loathe taking comfort in knowing she wouldn’t have to find her own way out. Being self-reliant was what had saved her from the Red Room. But, honestly, she liked SHIELD’s way of doing things better.

Back at the pond, a helicopter was precariously balanced on what served as the bank. Barton climbed into the co-pilot’s seat when May transferred herself to the back and started looking over Triplett’s arm.

Something glinted out of the corner of Natasha’s eye when the ‘copter was started up.

“Hill,” May snapped

“I can’t exactly control it in low light conditions.”

“Then take a nap.”

Hill huffed but settled as best she could.

Natasha decided she could figure it out later. Hill wasn’t going anywhere, and it seemed neither was Natasha herself.

Chapter Text

[Why is your girlfriend in my apartment?]

Maria rolled her eyes and almost ignored Sharon. [She’s not my girlfriend. Looking for her birthday present.]

[Birthday? When’s the party?]

[Does she strike you as the type to want a party?]

[By party I mean a small gathering of agents who won’t get drunk to the point of needing a stomach pump.]

[So our usual movie nights when we’re in the same city?]

[Yes. Except with cake. And gift wrapping.]

[I’m not going to be the one known as the planner for her birthday party. She will actually kill me.]

[Why? Am I not worth the effort?]

Maria snorted. [No. And she’s warned me not to do it.]

[If you’re respecting boundaries, she’s totally your girlfriend.]

[I hope she wears your rib cage as a hat.] Maria tossed her phone aside and refocused on the mission prep in front of her.

Coulson gave her a slightly amused and curious look. “May I ask what has you ruffled?”

“Besides the fact I hate ops overwatch?”

Clint snorted from where he was making a gear list. His specialized equipment meant he had to put in requests for every mission to ensure there would be enough on hand. “They’ll stop putting you in charge when you start sucking, Hill.”

“Sucking will get people killed.”

“I don’t know, some of us deserve it.”

“Barton,” Coulson chided.

“What? I included myself.” He glanced at Maria. “It’s gotta be Carter or Triplett, they’re the only ones who can get through your phone’s silent mode.”

Maria eyed him. “You know far too much, Barton.”

“Snipers bad habit of being way too fucking observant. Anyway.”

“Romanoff let Sharon catch her snooping for a hidden birthday present.” Because there was no way Natasha wouldn’t know Sharon’s exact schedule. “Sharon wants to have a party.”

Both other agents winced.

“Exactly. She’s insisting it’ll just be a dinner with cake, and she’s not stupid enough to push a full party on Romanoff.”

“But?” Coulson asked.

“I can see her adding a dozen little things that don’t seem so bad one at a time, but all together will not...end well.” Maria couldn’t tell them she spoke from experience. Sixteen-year-old Sharon had insisted on planning Maria’s “sweet sixteen.” She’d gone entirely overboard, and Maria ended up shutting down. Peggy had to get Maria out of the city before she even started responding to her name.

Sure, Sharon had gotten better at not pushing limits, but with a new person like Natasha...

“If you think it will be that bad an idea,” Coulson said, “I’m sure there’s a long term mission either one of them could be sent on.”

Maria seriously considered it. “I’ll gauge what Sharon’s up to. If I can’t talk her down, I’ll owe you my sanity.”

Barton scoffed. “We all already owe him that.”

Natasha was getting nowhere in her investigation, and that was...annoying. Something was different about Hill. It was something that Barton had decided to ignore, Carter and Triplett wouldn’t question, and May knew about. Natasha’s first attempt at information got her nothing but a bizarre interrogation on her likes and dislikes by Carter. And Natasha didn’t want to wonder why Carter seemed unfazed by the invasion of privacy.

Not that there was much of anything private in the apartment.

Triplett had a similar response; surprised, but not angry. He had, however, given her a different kind of intel. “Maria isn’t going to hide your birthday present in a place she knows you’ll look.”

Natasha was intrigued. “Maybe she did hide it here thinking I wouldn’t check since this is too obvious a location.”

He shook his head and tossed a can of beer at her. “I’m off the clock, Romanoff. I don’t do spy head games off the clock.”

“You have nothing but mystery books on your shelves.”

“I have mystery book covers on the shelves.”

She went over to open one and found mention of dragons, magic, and talking animals. “Seems I’ve judged a book by its cover.” She put away the book and looked at him. “That’s a spy head game.”

“No, it’s a tactic to keep Sharon from stealing my shit and never returning it.”

Natasha decided May was definitely far too professional to keep anything of Shield in her home. Barton barely kept track of his utility bills in his place; plus the man knew how to actually stay silent when it was necessary. Natasha looked into paper files within SHIELD. The electronic database was one she could hack. Still, it would take time and planning to avoid being traced back to her eventually.

Finally, she went to the source.

What little downtime there was between missions, the fact they were always moving through different SHIELD bases, and sheer workload made it a hint more difficult than Natasha would like. But finding ways to observe and interact with Hill was worth it.

Or, well, it wasn’t horrible. Natasha still wasn’t getting any kind of information.

At least, not until something terrible happened.

Morse was in the doorway of the small office, out of breath. “Hey, Romanoff, can you kick Hill’s ass for a bit?”

Natasha started to save and close out her work on the laptop. “For any particular reason?”

“Op went south. Nothing she could’ve done, even if she’d been there. But she’s...displeased.”

“How many people are in medical?”

“Just some Marine transfer who thought he could handle Hill in a rage.”

Natasha kept pace with Morse’s jog as they headed down to the gym. Hill was in a corner beating up a heavy bag. Barehanded. Natasha shook her head and went over, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her around. The move was enough to trigger an attack.

Natasha kept out of Hill’s way with ease. It was clear she wasn’t thinking; they’d spared before, and Natasha knew how precise and efficient Hill was. She had a feeling the op didn’t just go south.

Someone was either benched for the rest of their career or dead. She was betting on benched. Hill would’ve vanished if someone had died on her watch.

“Are you planning on hitting me any time soon?” Natasha asked as she slipped past Hill to attack from behind.

It was apparently the wrong thing to say. Or maybe the right thing. Hill was suddenly far more deadly than she’d been a moment ago. Natasha actually had to work to get in a hit. That was telling. No one in SHIELD could make Natasha actually work in a sparring match.

Hill had not always been this good. She was damn talented in a fight, but forcing Natasha to actually think was new. Natasha was about to push a little faster, a little harder, than she would with typical SHIELD agents-

“Hill! Romanoff! Stand down!”

They both froze before looking over at where the order had come from. Hartly stood at the edge of the mats, arms crossed, looking decidedly peeved. Morse was nowhere to be seen, a wise decision on her part.

“Clean up,” Hartly ordered. “My office, ten minutes.” She turned and headed out of the gym.

Natasha headed for the locker room, and Hill was two steps behind her. They said nothing as they rinsed off the workout and dug out clothing stashed in the smaller lockers the last time they’d been in this particular base. When they got to Hartly’s office, two to-go boxes from the cafeteria sat on the desk.

“Sit. Eat.” She continued only after they had started. “Word is the op you were running went south, Hill. I’m shit at counseling, but since those people have nice normal hours, you’re stuck with me since you decided 2200 was a great time to lose your shit.”

“The agent was hit by a drunk driver.”

Natasha frowned. There was absolutely no way Hill could’ve prevented that.

“He was on a motorcycle on a holiday weekend. It wasn’t something I took into account-”

“Why that form of transport?” Hartly asked.

Maria explained the logistics of getting in and out of the area quicker on a bike. Especially since there was a gathering of sorts at the same time. No one would look twice at another motorcycle in the streets, even and especially one weaving in and out of traffic.

“So there was heavier, more unpredictable biker traffic. What do you think would’ve happened if your agent had been in a car with blind spots, longer stopping time, and less maneuverability?”

Hill grimaced and said nothing.

“Your agent walk away from the crash or not?”

“Hospitalized. SHIELD can probably fix the damage, but he’s out of the field.”

“You realize that even for the most gung ho of us, that’s the option we’d take over any other? Sure, most of us would be bitter as shit about being stuck inside for the rest of our careers. But not forever. And at least we’d have that much.”

Hill continued to eat, looking more petulant than angry.

Natasha set down her empty box. “And if the agent has a problem with you, I’ll kill him.”

“Romanoff-”

She ignored the protests. “Hartly, you and Hand want in on vodka cake?”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Birthday party.” She saw Hill’s confused frown. “Carter told me to invite who I will and tell her the final count, so she knows how much cake to make.”

Hartly raised an eyebrow. “You’re having a birthday party?”

“I’m taking as much control from Carter as I can to prevent her from doing something I’ll have to shank her for.”

“I’m jealous,” Hill muttered. “She never lets me control my parties.”

“One of us is an assassin with loose morals,” Natasha drawled. “The other has been seen at their rookie worst.”

“I hate you.”

“You don’t.”

Hartly shook her head. “Let me know the when and where and I’ll ask Vic if we’ll be available.”

Natasha nodded. She wasn’t surprised they found ways to be together more often than not. Very, very few agents had any idea the handler and seasoned field agent were a couple.

“You haven’t invited me,” Hill pointed out.

“Carter said you’re cooking, so you’re invited by default.”

Hill made to protest, but Hartly interrupted. “Finish your food and get out of my office.”

Hill did so. Natasha followed her to the roof of the building. They sat on the ledge and looked out into the city night. Nothing was said.

Natasha had learned more than a few things in the last hour. Hill was stronger and faster than she let on; perhaps it was an adrenaline thing. Maybe she just didn’t put her full abilities on display. Natasha sure didn’t, so she could understand the wish to keep full talents hidden.

But, more importantly, Natasha learned that Hill wasn’t a threat. Even if Hill could give Natasha a better workout on the mats, she was too loyal to use those skills against Natasha in a cruel way. Because while Hill had protested some SHIELD protocols more than once, she never let an agent down if she could help it.

As long as Natasha didn’t betray her, she was safe. And maybe that’s all that really mattered.

Chapter Text

Maria looked at the shortest e-mail ever and felt dread flood her system.

“My office. Now.”

It was from the Director and sent to her Agent 56 account. A complete lack of details meant this was going to require long hours and canceling plans with her cousins.

Maria locked down her office and headed up to Fury. Something about her demeanor must have been more Manticore than SHIELD; agents were getting out of her way and avoiding her gaze. She couldn’t be bothered to calm down and ease up.

Something was about to change. The last time she had felt this way, Max had been on the brink of death. Maria wondered whose life was about to be in the balance today.

Maria knocked and was bid to enter. At the sight of her, Fury stopped what he was doing and tugged a file free from a small stack. Even with all the computer age protections, he still held to the idea that if only one paper copy existed, then it was his to distribute or destroy. She had pointed out that someone could just as easily make a copy or photograph it. He had told her that if someone got that far, there were bigger problems to worry about.

He motioned for her to sit. “A serial killer left a victim in Central Park.”

Maria sat and flipped open the folder. A dozen images of the same barcode on the back of multiple necks made her blood run cold. “Ben.”

“So he’s one that escaped with you? Any particular reason he’s tearing out teeth and leaving them piled at the feet of Virgin Mary statues?”

Bile roiled her stomach. “We offered our baby teeth to an image of her in exchange for protection.”

“What little you and Doctor Vertes told SHIELD didn’t make Manticore seem like a place that would allow religion.”

She shook her head. “One night, Jack was having seizures after lights out. The janitor cleaning our barracks gave him a card with the Virgin Mary to hold on to, and the seizures stopped.” She frowned. “I couldn’t tell you why we decided on teeth. Jack eventually seized during training and was taken away. We never saw him again. Ben took the loss harder than the rest of us.”

He motioned at the file, knowing she could listen and read at the same time. “He doesn’t come out of the woodwork often. Every nine months or so, someone ends up with a broken, tattooed neck and missing teeth. A church in the area usually reports a pile of fresh teeth within twenty-four hours of the body being found.”

Maria tried to figure out a pattern, examining the dates and locations. From the Yukon down to the southernmost tip of Chile, Ben had been on the move non-stop since their escape 14 years ago. The only reason SHIELD was able to keep a record of his crimes was their uniqueness. There had been a handful of copycats over the years; the tattoo never matched, so authorities knew it wasn’t Ben.

“New York City is too big to find him even if I knew where to start looking,” Maria admitted. “It’ll take me days to compare local events with the murders. He’ll be gone by the time I have a vague idea of why he’s doing this.”

Fury handed over a sheet of paper. “Today’s victim isn’t an hour old.”

Maria was out of her seat and had a hand on the door before she even registered she was moving.

“Hill.” He waited for her to look at him. “Carter, Triplett, and Romanoff will meet you in the motor pool.”

“They’ll slow me dow-”

“They’ll keep you grounded. That’s an order.”

She nodded once and was gone.

Natasha watched Hill and felt the slightest tinge of worry. The Director’s orders to her were different from Carter and Triplett’s. They had been told to keep Hill from getting lost in the particulars of the mission. Natasha had been told to just keep track of Hill if she slipped her leash.

Everything the Director didn’t say was also telling. They were reporting to no handler. SHIELD’s best eyes from among high wasn’t with them, and everyone knew how well Strike Team Delta worked together. Hill hadn’t been part of their briefing.

There were going to be three different sets of objectives on the ground. Then the fourth being whatever the Director was concocting. That didn’t bother Natasha so much as not knowing Hill’s goal.

“Why do I have to stay in the car?” Triplett groused when they reached the area of the crime scene.

Hill was already walking, so Natasha answered. “Three of us have training in blending in and going unseen. You’re not one of them.”

“You, with the logic. Hush.”

She grinned at him. “Not the boss of me.” The car door was closed before he could reply.

The comms came up, but they remained silent. Natasha went one way while Carter went another. They were all curious bystanders, slipping closer to get a better view. Natasha combed the back, eavesdropping. Carter drifted around the various law enforcement officers along the edge of the crime scene tape. Hill planted herself near the newsgroup, out of sight, but still able to hear the conversation.

Natasha still wasn’t sure, looking back, when she lost all control of the situation.

All she knew was that Hill’s breath hitched loud enough to grab their attention. Natasha looked through the crowd and saw two people standing much too close to Hill.

Except there was no fear that Natasha could see. No, the only emotion Natasha could read was pure surprise.

“Max. Zack.”

Natasha watched Hill turn off her comm, lock eyes with Natasha through the crowd, and turn to leave with the duo.

“Carter, fall back to the car,” Natasha ordered as she started to follow Hill. “She just left with two unknowns of her own volition.”

“What?!” Carter demanded.

Natasha ignored her. “Follow my tracker. Tell the Director that Hill’s gone rogue.”

Chapter Text

“You were the hardest to track down,” Zack said as they headed for the park's edge.

“How’d you manage it?” Maria asked, still trying to shake off the shock of seeing her siblings. She needed to assess just how dangerous her life was about to become.

“Crit learned some crazy computer skills,” Max said. “Like, I’m never doing so much as telling him how funky he smells.”

Maria snorted. Crit always had the worst body odor.

“About your tails?” Zack asked.

Maria shrugged. “I’d prefer to keep them, but if it’s safer to ditch them, we can.”

“I don’t know about safer,” Zack drawled. “But, sure, if they can keep up.”

Maria relaxed her shoulders, just a hint. If they were okay with being followed, they likely weren’t working with Ben or Manticore. “I’m officially looking into Ben for my employer. You?”

Max shook her head. “Been trying to track him down since he showed up in Maine a year ago. We’re hoping to talk to him, see what’s going on in his head, but...”

“We’ll put him down if he’s too far gone,” Zack said. Ever the unit leader, his word was law.

“I can work with that,” Maria said.

They reached a pair of Kawasaki Ninjas. Max dug a spare helmet out from the saddlebags and tossed it at Maria. There was a rigged communication system inside it, and Maria turned it on before tugging on the helmet.

“Pick your driver,” Max said over the radio.

Maria motioned at Max. “You’re lighter, means we can go faster.”

“Forgive a man for having muscle mass,” Zack groused.

“Let’s see if your tails are up to snuff,” Max said. “Crit is still trying to track Ben across traffic cameras.”

Maria knew she was going to be read the riot act from Sharon and Romanoff when all this was over. But if it meant keeping them safe, stopping Ben, and reconnecting with her siblings, it would be worth it.

“You understand why we haven’t approached you until now?” Zack asked.

“Yes,” Maria answered. “Though you should know, I was assigned to Ben’s case because I’m known as a Manticore soldier.”

“Wait. What?!”

Maria grinned and patted Max’s rib cage to calm her suddenly tense sister. “Only three people know; a former Director, the current Director, and an agent who serves as a mentor provides a reason for us to talk behind closed doors.”

After a moment, Max asked, “They hiring?”

“I’m sure the Director wouldn’t mind having another one of us to throw at impossible situations. But he’d make you go through an Academy. He’s a little too fond of paper trails.”

“And I don’t have much of one. The catch?”

“He wouldn’t be stupid enough to put us both on the same mission together.”

“Why not?” Zack asked. “We work best with each other.”

Maria shifted. “That would be the problem. We’d work a little too well, and I might already have a reputation.”

Max laughed. “Might? What the fuck did you do?”

“Punched a hole in a fuselage in an airline graveyard on a dare?”

Zack sighed. “Fuck, Ria. Please tell me you were at least not an adult?”

“Does seventeen count? Stop laughing and drive in a straight line!”

Max adjusted course just as the radios rang. “What’s the what, Crit?”

“Finally tracked the wiley fucker to the sketchiest motel in Manhattan.” He rattled off the address. “I’ll keep an eye on all the cameras around the place.”

“Thanks,” Zack said before signing off for them. “You sure you want your tails to catch up to this, Ria?”

She honestly gave it serious thought for two city blocks. “Yes. If there’s anyone I trust outside our unit, it’s the three people keeping up with us.”

“So be it.”

Sharon was out of the SUV before Antoine had it in park. She jogged to catch up with Romanoff, who had commandeered a Harley to keep up with Maria and her new friends. She could hear Antoine updating the Director as he caught up.

“So, to say Director Fury is displeased is an understatement,” Antoine muttered.

“He’s not the only one,” Romanoff growled.

“Aw, are you mad Maria has friends outside of, well, us?”

“That’s the thing,” she snapped as they left the decrepit motel for the equally run-down dockyard behind it. “Between the three of us, we know who Hill associates with and why. None of us, including Director Fury, knows who these two people are. That she’s willing to work with them at the drop of a fucking toothless body means she’s involved with something SHIELD has no knowledge of.”

“Well,” Sharon said, “when you put it that way...”

A shout came from around the building just in front of them and to their left. When they rounded the corner, Sharon barely had time to take in everything as it happened.

Maria was furthest away, to one side of their frantic looking target. The two new friends, Max and Zack, were between the SHIELD agents and the fugitive. Romanoff shifted in front of Antoine and Sharon when the fugitive focused on them.

“If you touch them,” Maria warned, “I’ll break your kneecaps.”

Attention suddenly shifted, and between one moment and the next, five new people entered the area. Two young, bald soldiers were on the roofs of the buildings on either side of the group. One appeared behind the SHIELD agents, and two more came around the corners of the buildings ahead of them. The sound of a vehicle closing in was coming fast. Sharon didn’t see the signal that sent the quartet into motion.

Maria was at the corner of one building within a blink of an eye, one hand dropping the soldier's broken neck and the other aiming his sidearm. Simultaneously, the fugitive went down as one gunshot rang out; he curled around his now bleeding leg. The soldier in the corner across from Maria made no other move, aware of the gun now aimed at his head.

Max was suddenly on the roof. She claimed the soldier’s semi-automatic and sidearm, pointing at the other two soldiers. Zack was dropped from the roof he attacked with a bleeding shoulder.

Sharon hadn’t even finished taking a breath.

A transport van came skidding to a stop a few feet from Maria. An older man in a uniform and the rank of Colonel stepped out and took in the scene. Sharon could see he was displeased with things if the deep frown was anything to go by. 

“It seems we’re at an impasse,” the Colonel said.

“No, we aren’t,” Maria retorted. “Those three will wait for your orders. We can drop them before they can register our trigger fingers have twitched.”

“Do you want to bet your life on that, six-oh-four?”

“Do you?” She had no reaction to his scowl. “Here’s what’s going to happen.”

“I’ll hear it, but I agree to nothing as of yet.”

“452 and 599 are going to get medical attention with the help of those three.” She pointed to the SHIELD agents. “Myself and 459 will not resist going with you ONLY after I have ensured the others are secured and on their way.”

The fugitive started to shake his head. “Ria no please no I can’t go back I can’t-”

“We gave you the only chance you were ever going to get,” Maria snapped. “My mission is to stop your murders. This coincides with the Colonel’s mission. Your lack of cooperation got Zack shot and now risks people who have no fucking clue what’s happening. I no longer give a shit about what kind of field day Psy-Ops is going to have with your insane ass.”

The Colonel nodded once. “This is agreeable. Stand down.”

The three armed soldiers pointed their guns down but remained at the ready.  Max walked off the roof, landing in a crouch without incident, and brought Zack over to the SHIELD agents. Sharon watched as Maria lifted the protesting fugitive like he weighed nothing. Maria turned on her SHIELD comm before telling them to get back to base.

“You don’t outrank me,” Romanoff drawled.

“You hate being shot more than I do,” Maria said. “But feel free to do something stupid.”

“What am I telling the Director?” Sharon asked, knowing Maria would understand which Director she meant.

Maria locked eyes with her. “Thank you.”

Sharon swallowed the bile working up her throat. For some reason, that sounded like ‘good-bye.’

Chapter Text

“Ria, please,” Ben begged in the back of the transport van. “Don’t let PsyOps have me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did, but nothing ever made sense once we left.”

Maria shifted in her manacles. Unlike the Red Room, Lydecker was prepared for a supersoldier encounter. “That doesn’t excuse murder.”

He tilted his head up to look at her from the floor. “I know, Ria, I know. I’m sorry.”

She took a slow, deep breath through her teeth. Ben went quiet, knowing he was on thin ice. Closing her eyes, Maria tilted her head back. “Tell me about the Blue Lady.”

Ben did so without hesitation. “She watches over us...”

It was likely the only thing he was sure of these days. Maria wondered if he could’ve been saved if Fury had told her sooner about a killer who marked victims with barcodes. She wondered if her actions would be the same no matter what the situation.

“...doesn’t yell, doesn’t punish. And when you wake up in the morning, she lets you stay in bed for as-”

Maria kicked.

His neck snapped.

The trio guarding them stopped aiming before they really started. They considered their options. Without speaking, they moved Ben’s cuffs to her ankles.

She let them. It was the only way she could get to the next part of her newest mission.

*

Natasha helped apply pressure on Zack’s shoulder while Max bound it. Carter was driving as fast she could, muttering under her breath about how dying for the cause only works once, and that Hill was raised on the same ideal as she was.

The puzzle had more pieces, but Natasha was still missing key parts. She knew Hill was a supersoldier now, and not one known or created by SHIELD. Hill, Zack, Max, and Ben seemed AWOL and had been for a while, given the time Hill had been with SHIELD. Hill and Carter also knew each other from before SHIELD, although Carter definitely wasn’t a supersoldier. Hill had never judged her for her past, accepted every “weird” habit and paranoia, and provided Natasha with necessities without question, the picture looked more and more like Natasha and Hill had a lot more in common than she ever thought possible.

Natasha had a feeling she was going to learn just why, exactly, she and Hill got along so well before the day was over.

*

Sharon got out of the van and helped Romanoff get the back doors open. “Antoine, go with these two and make sure no one does anything stupid.”

“I’m not the one with the skills here to stop them,” he pointed out.

“No, but Maria trusts them, and trusts us with them.” She locked eyes with Max, who looked more worried than angry. “We’re all going after Maria together, clear?”

Max nodded once. “Clear.”

The arriving medical team put Zack on a gurney and started to work while Antoine and Max fell in behind them. Sharon headed in the other direction, Romanoff falling in step with her.

“The Director knew this would go sideways,” Romanoff said.

“I don’t think he meant it to go this far off the tracks. As many plans as that man has, losing Maria to an unknown military organization wasn’t one of them.”

“Unknown to us.”

Sharon nodded. “Unknown to us.” Once they were in an elevator, Sharon braced herself on the walls and pushed against them. Frustration, fear, and urgency made her arms shake. “If I don’t like what the Director has to say, I’m going after her myself. Are you in?”

Romanoff settled against the wall next to her and gave her a look. “I could tell you I am and just stop you later.”

Sharon shoved off the wall as the elevator doors opened. “You don’t like waiting for a plan when action will do.”

“As long as you believe that.”

Sharon turned a corner and halted. Director Fury didn’t seem at all surprised to see them.

“Follow me, Agents.”

Sharon glared at his back and did so. One way or another, she was going to get answers.

*

Antione and Max leaned against the wall outside the operating room. Max had been loathed to let Zack out of her sight, so this was the compromise. Antoine had spent enough time playing the “hurry up and wait” game to remain still, if not calm. Max was stone-still, eyes not even tracking the agents crossing the halls. But, he had seen Maria know who was around without looking.

“She never told us how or why she was different. Hell, she hid that Speedy Gonzales shit damn well when it could’ve kept her out of medical. All Sharon and I ever picked up was that she saw Shield as her only option.”

Max considered him for a moment. “Who are you to her?”

He considered his words and the possible ears trying to listen in. Lowering his voice, he said, “The three of us were raised as cousins. No one knows that outside the Director. Far as anyone is concerned, we met in Ops Academy and got along like a house on fire.”

“Never understood that phrase.”

“Fuel, heat, and oxygen.” He shrugged. “Circumstance dictates who’s what.” 

Max tilted her head up and looked at the ceiling. “Huh.” She took a deep breath. “We were raised as a squad. We’re siblings to each other, even if the genetics don’t match.”

He wanted to be sad or upset or angry that Maria never shared this with them. He wanted to be...something bitter about how Maria didn’t trust them. Except, with his career, he could understand why she had remained silent. The more people that knew a secret, the more people could leak a secret. And, really, he and Sharon had always known there was something that made Maria worth protecting. He looked over at Max. “It’s not genetics that make family.”

She gave him a small, sad smile. “We’ll see if you feel the same way when this is all over.” 

The doors to the operating room swung open. Zack took a steady step out, and Max rolled her eyes before helping him into a scrub shirt. The doctor came out after him, but the tirade about bed rest and blood transfusion was cut short by Agent May’s arrival.

“The Director’s calling a meeting,” she told them. “Hill’s tracker has been deactivated, but we’ve got people following the transport van through traffic cameras.”

“Crit will be on their tails by now, too,” Max said.

“Agent May, my patient needs bed rest,” the doctor cut in.

She barely glanced at him. “What he needs doesn’t align with what he and the Director both want.” She considered Zack. “You good to go?”

He shrugged his good shoulder. “Could do with a bottle of water.”

“And a shower,” Max muttered.

Zack gave her an exasperated look. Unless Antoine was utterly mistaken, May was amused. When she turned and headed for the elevator bank, the two supersoldiers fell in behind her. Antoine took up the rear and wondered how his momma would feel about adopting a few grown idiots.

Chapter Text

Nick tossed a single, aged file on the conference table before sitting. He sighed and stared at the woodgrain for a long moment. Sitwell continued to tap away at his laptop, looking into what little information Romanoff, Carter, and Triplett could provide. The trio was obviously ready to go back out but was willing to hear what he had to say. May was stone still, staring at nothing. Vertes, the doctor who had brought Hill to Director Carter, looked over the medical report of the injuries sustained by the two supersoldiers across from her.

“Most of you don’t have clearance to read the information contained in that folder,” he said. “Hell, two of you shouldn’t even be here.”

The young supersoldier tilted her chin up stubbornly. “If you’re going after Ria, better we work together than get in each other’s way.”

His glare wasn’t as sharp as it could’ve been. “You two got names, or shall I go by your Manticore designations?”

She looked to the assigned leader of the unit. He must have given her permission in a way Fury couldn’t track, because she said, “I’m Max. He’s Zack.”

“And the one Maria bargained for?” Carter demanded, obviously using the chosen name on purpose.

“Ben,” Zack said, quiet and exhausted. “When we knew him, he was Ben.”

Doctor Vertes shook her head. “If they had known you had names for each other...” She looked at Fury. “We were assured Manticore was disbanded.”

Nick nodded. “And the iteration you and Hill know of was purged from the Marines. It didn’t help that a dozen experiments got loose, and one of their doctors vanished.”

“Someone obviously picked up where they left off,” May muttered, displeased with how things had spiraled out of both their controls. “I thought there were ears in place to warn us?”

“There are, and when I checked the logs on my way here, nothing had pinged within the U.S. Military for the last six months.”

Vertes frowned. “Which means this is no longer under the jurisdiction of the Marines.”

“Someone with deep pockets is involved, then,” Sitwell said. “Deep pockets and outside support.”

He looked around the table. “From this point on, the operation is off the books. SHIELD may not be able to protect you from the fallout of retrieving Agent Hill. This is your chance to excuse yourself. You will face no repercussions.”

No one moved.

“I have one question,” Zack said, trying to hide the exhaustion in his voice. “What are you planning to do if Ria is no longer the person she’s become?”

Nick didn’t look at Romanoff but knew she was watching him. “Hill’s stronger than Manticore is expecting. And SHIELD has experience in unfucking the brainwashed.”

Max looked at Zack. “I like him. I’m totally working here.”

Zack rolled his eyes. Triplett traded a fist bump with Max. Nick had a feeling Hill was going to be brought home come hell or high water.

Perfect.

Maria saw the briefest flash of surprise on the Colonel’s face when Ben’s dead body was revealed. It was gone within a heartbeat; a short spike in heart rate the only evidence. The younger supersoldiers led her out by her elbows, using neither excessive strength nor violence. She went easily. Now wasn’t the time for striking, now was the time for gathering information.

The drive had gone into the night, but it was by no means late. Maria took in the base while she could. Concrete walls higher than an X-5 could jump, barb wire curtain, and the low hum of electricity on the metal wires. There were courtyards, all heavily fenced off from each other. Guard towers with searchlights and high powered rifles were spaced evenly around the perimeter. Given the number of stars she could see, they were away from any source of light pollution.

Maria realized that, from above, the base looked like a high-security prison. Clever.

“As dangerous as you are with your mind intact,” Lydecker said as they headed into the facility, “Director Renfro wants to run her own experiments.”

“Didn’t think you’d sound more bitter about that than me.”

“As resilient as you are, there are some injuries that can’t be recovered from.” He opened the door without any kind of I.D. or key. Maria suspected it was monitored and unlocked as needed. “Brain damage, if gone too far, can’t be undone.”

“And I’m far more useful able to aim a gun in the right direction.”

“Which you won’t do willingly just yet,” he admitted. “But, you’ll learn soon enough that obedience is the better option.”

“But I like being a real girl,” she feign whined.

“Great, sarcasm,” he muttered. Louder, he said, “I want you to know that rescue will not come from SHIELD.”

“Since I’m due to be brainwashed anyway, might I ask why?”

Either he was tired or was just done caring at the moment. “SHIELD answers to a higher authority. Manticore answers to the same Council.” He opened the door to a small gym. “And as you are originally a Manticore soldier, here is where you will remain.”

Maria didn’t feel the cuffs being removed from her wrists and ankles. She hadn’t known what shock felt like until that moment.

Jace and Brin stood across from her.

And she had a feeling they were no longer the sisters she remembered.

Chapter Text

Maria had to admit, Manticore hadn't let her sisters slack. At all. It wasn't a real surprise, but she figured Manticore would just assume their soldiers were the best. Why push for better when the best already existed?

Maria wasn't going to win a fight with Brin and Jace. Not only was it two against one, but they had likely eaten in the last twelve hours. Still, she had one thing they didn't:

Experience.

She had studied multiple styles, with various opponents. Her techniques were enough to keep her ahead of them long enough to make a point. Just because she had spent the last decade and a half without Manticore didn't make her a lesser soldier. When Brin went for a throat punch, Maria dislocated her shoulder in a move that would make Natasha proud. Jace came in behind Maria and put her in a chokehold.

Maria relaxed as much as she could. "I yield."

Jace let go, much to Brin's displeasure. Lydecker seemed to be more interested in studying their dynamic than the fight he could barely follow.

Maria pointed at the glare Brin was directing at her. "I killed Ben about four hours ago for being a dumbass. I like you even less."

Brin popped her shoulder back in and went to stand at ease behind Lydecker. Oh, her attitude was going to be so, so much fun. Jace remained behind Maria, likely to stop her from attacking their CO.

Lydecker motioned at the trio that had been with him for the retrieval. "798, see to it 616 is given a proper uniform and bunk. No sustenance."

"Yes, sir," Jace said.

He looked at Maria. "If you attempt an escape, their orders are to kill, not capture."

"Wasteful," Maria muttered as he and Brin left.

Jace took the lead, and the three younger supersoldiers ranged out around Maria. As they headed down the hall, Jace glanced back at her. "Your plans will fail."

Maria shrugged, purposely being less of a soldier. "The current plan is patience and observation."

"There will be no rescue and no escape."

"The latter was already proven possible." Rescue would be an exercise in just how insane SHIELD agents really were.

Maria wasn't going to believe Lydecker. Someone would come for her, unofficially or not. She only had to give them time.

Natasha looked up from the drone imaging of the facility Hill had been taken to. "You have bad news," she accused Fury.

"SHIELD and Manticore answer to the same people."

"I no longer want to work here," Max told Zack, who didn't respond.

"What does that mean for us?" May asked.

"It means if there is any evidence of any SHIELD agent interfering with Manticore operations, the hole your body is dropped in is deep."

Natasha refocused on the images. "Been dropped in deeper."

"Did you miss how he said, "your body"?" Triplett asked.

"No." She glanced at him. "America isn't the only country to play with the idea of supersoldiers." She ignored the intrigued looks Max and Zack were giving her and went back to plotting Manticore's demise.

Hill took multiple volts of electricity for her when the Red Room tried to reclaim her. Natasha hadn't thought she would get the chance to return the favor. Orders and organizations meant nothing. Natasha would burn them all down if necessary.

She had a feeling she would have help, too.

"Recapture," Zack said. "It's not interfering if we do what Manticore orders."

"We'll get run through PsyOps before we even lay eyes on Ria," Max protested.

"Not if you cooperate." He looked at Natasha. "Are your abilities known?"

"To those with the clearance level," Natasha replied lightly.

"Then the overseers know them. Max brings you in as a supposed trade. Manticore takes you both, which gives Ria twice the back-up. The offering of new blood and cooperation will keep PsyOps at bay."

"You can't know that," Carter warned.

"But it's what SHIELD would be ordered to do," Fury said. "Seeing as how we don't have time or resources..."

May glanced around. "I think, between all of our bolt holes and connections, we can gather enough resources."

He nodded. "I'll get Sitwell working on the paper trail. As far as the Council will be concerned, it will be business as usual here." He left without a word of luck or orders to come back alive and successful.

May took charge once the door to the room was closed. "Carter, Triplett, get in contact with those who can get us non-SHIELD issue weapons. Romanoff, I assume you've decided on the best exit points? Mark them out and get me lines of sight they may not have. Can you two get us transport?" When Max and Zack nodded, May stood. "I'm going to grab us sustenance so we all don't faint by the time we get there. We move out in twenty."

Natasha mentally braced herself. Manticore couldn't be any worse than the Red Room. But it was still going to be unpleasant.

This time, at least, it'd be worth it.

Chapter Text

Maria raised an eyebrow at the sight of her ruffled sister being hauled in by a younger X-series. Max eyed Jace and Brin, seeming to pick up on the same thing Maria had the night before. Brin was no longer the sibling they grew up and escaped with; there was still something left of the Jace they had known.

“Four-five-two here thought to trade for you, six-oh-four,” Lydecker said as he entered the training yard.

“Guess that answers that question,” Maria muttered.

“Which was?”

She contemplated answering him or not, and decided she didn’t want to give Brin another black eye. “Who made a better super soldier.”

“Never doubt what this country’s military is capable of,” he ordered.

“Serotonin deficiency ring a bell?” Max drawled as she shook off the younger soldiers. “Fuck off, kids, time for the adults to talk.”

The duo didn’t react to her, merely stepped back towards the wall of the building.

Maria considered her sister. “If you’ve gotten Romanoff killed, I’m going to maim you.”

“Chill, your girlfriend is more useful alive.”

“Please refer to her as *that* to her face. She might actually manage to kill you.”

“Enough!” Lydecker barked. “Let’s see how far you’ve fallen behind, four-five-two.”

Brin didn’t need any order to attack. Jace waited for an opening before jumping in. Maria was considering it but took her time watching the fight. She wasn’t going to have a lot of chances to study Brin’s style. Max was pinned before Maria could make a move.

The match had been thrown; it’d been far too easy to end the fight. Jace must have realized Max wasn’t going to reveal her full abilities. It made sense; never give the enemy more to work with.

“I see a lot of drills in your futures,” Lydecker groused. “You’ll be joining the X-6’s.”

He led the way, Jace the first behind him, Brin at the rear. Maria was a bit worried about where Natasha had ended up. She had to hope, however, that Manticore was more interested in testing limits than in blank slates.

And hope, she had learned from Peggy, was best counted on as rarely as possible.

Natasha would, probably, maybe, under heavy drugs and more exhaustion, admit that she was a little sore around the edges. Those who ran both SHIELD and Manticore had decided to order all the tests Director Fury considered inhumane. Natasha had been given the full list when she first joined SHIELD. To say she had gotten off easy was a severe understatement.

A bread roll and a canteen of water were dropped in front of her. She contemplated using the water as a weapon.

“That is all the sustenance you will be given for the next forty-eight hours,” the woman who had introduced herself as Director Renfro said. “Use it wisely. Take her to join the X-5’s field training.”

Natasha snagged the roll and canteen as she was hauled to her feet. She kept pace with the armed soldiers even as the world tilted. The long hours on the treadmill had been bearable, though she could’ve done without the ice-cold test of how long she could hold her breath. The only reason she had submitted to the trials of strength and repeat of the cycle while half sedated was due to being shot in the fucking arm when she had tried to protest. It wasn’t a critical hit, but the warning was clear.

Natasha was a spare; Manticore had super soldiers enough.

The sun was setting as they trooped outside. At the edge of the training yard, bordering the dense woods that surrounded the compound stood Hill and her siblings, as well as their commanding officer. That Hill and Max hadn’t killed the man spoke of some kind of compulsion they may not even know of. Natasha eyed the gear on the ground. It matched the other four.

“You’re more than welcome to go into this with just the water,” Lydecker said. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Natasha shrugged and started to pull on the tactical vest. “Hill.”

“Romanoff.”

She looked at Max. “Bitch.”

“Weak sauce.”

If only to fool Manticore. Natasha was demanding a rematch as soon as they were back at SHIELD. Or, perhaps, after a day or two of recovering. She had to look bad if she could read the worry off Hill.

“You will know your objective when you reach it,” Lydecker said as Natasha strapped the pack into place. “Your obstacles are varied and without mercy. Shoot to kill.”

Hill looked at the duo Natasha couldn’t name. “There are fucking ‘nomlies in the woods?”

Oh, that didn’t sound good for May, Carter, and Triplett.

“Excuse you?” Lydecker demanded. “’Nomlies?”

“The anomalies in the basement of the Gillette, Wyoming base, sir,” one of the duo responded.

“Do I want to know how any of you discovered the previous series?”

Hill smirked. “High-speed cameras obviously weren’t in use in the early nineties.”

Natasha...wouldn’t have admitted to sneaking around the Red Room, even a decade and a half after the fact. But Hill seemed to be playing a part since Natasha had never seen her slouch since coming to SHIELD.

“You have forty-eight hours to complete your object and return here.”

The duo sped off into the woods faster than Natasha could track. Max started off at a more human pace. Hill waited for Natasha to follow before bringing up the rear. They walked in silence for twenty minutes before they came upon the other two.

The dead body of something that had been more lizard than human lay between them.

Natasha glanced back at Hill when she felt her pack shift. The supplies were tugged out and tossed to Max or shoved into Hill’s own pack.

Max pointed to the two other soldiers. “Seven-three-four and seven-nine-eight.”

“She’s not Manticore,” stated the paler of the duo, 734.

“And?” Max asked. “Not like you give two shits.”

“We won’t complete the objective in time,” 798 said.

“Then don’t wait up,” Max snapped.

Natasha felt the rush of wind against her face more than she saw the movement. Hill was standing in front of her, and the paler of the duo was holding her nose.

“If you make a move against Natasha again in any way, shape, or form, I’ll slice strips of skin off your face and force-feed them to you. Then I’ll slice you to pieces, joint by joint, cauterizing as I go so you don’t bleed out, and beat you to death with your own body.”

The woman looked horrified. “We were never taught torture!”

“Why should I show you mercy when you have none? Move out.”

Max and 798 did as ordered. Natasha fell in behind them, and Hill was at her back. She didn’t hear the last soldier but knew she had to be keeping pace.

“You should know I’ve settled for a short, violent life,” Natasha told Hill.

“I haven’t. I’m a super soldier, I wasn’t made to die; I was made to live and fight. So I’m going to do that because there is no other option.”

Natasha glanced back at Hill and saw nothing but raging determination in her eyes. “Well. I guess I can agree with that.”

Why Hill was fighting so hard for her, Natasha didn’t know. But if someone wanted her alive? She had no reason to complicate the task.

Chapter Text

Nick stared impassively at the screens before him. The shadowed profiles were not as mysterious as they appeared; he was a spy, for fucks sake. Of course he knew the identities of those who called the shots. “I honestly don’t understand why you would want an inferior soldier to remain within Manticore.”

“The same could be said for why you are so insistent on having the experiment returned.”

“Agent Hill is not inferior when it comes to SHIELD agents. Her abilities are unique and are of far more use to more human agents.”

“Be that as it may, the escaped experiments have proven to be reckless, damaged, and otherwise a risk to the secrecy of both SHIELD and Manticore.”

He barely refrained from rolling his eye. “Every agent has that potential due to not being programmable robots.”

“This matter is closed. The experiment will not be released to SHIELD.”

He was close. If they didn’t have an argument to use against him, they always tried to shut him down. “If Agent Hill is determined to be a risk to SHIELD by being within Manticore, Agent Romanoff has orders to terminate the threat. Or did you honestly think a Red Room assassin goes anywhere against their will?”

The hesitation before the screens went blank was all the signal he needed. They were now worried. Now all he had to do was wait for his agents to do their jobs.

And that was one thing he could absolutely count on.

Maria wasn’t the only one who raised a weapon when the troop of younger X-series came to a stop around them.

“X5-616, you are to report to Director Renfro immediately.”

“Not good,” Natasha muttered.

Maria didn’t lower her weapon; Brin had fully stood down, but Jace was still at the ready. “Do you know why I’m not going to comply with you, kid? Because we have emergency radios.”

Maria, Max, and Jace shot two soldiers each before breaking the necks of the remaining four. Maria aimed her sidearm at Brin.

“Pick a side.”

“I’m going to complete the objective.” Brin strode off into the woods, never looking back.

Maria aimed at the sister that had stayed behind. “Can we trust you, Jace?”

She nodded once. “I didn’t know there was anything to run to when we were kids. Knowing what I do now? I’ll do whatever I have to prove I’m not Manticore anymore.”

“We’re always going to be Manticore,” Max said as she dropped her gear and started rummaging through it. “We’re genetic hybrids, that’s the definition of Manticore. Cough up the C-4. What makes us different is how we care about each other.”

Jace held out her weapons to be taken. Maria took the firearms but left the combat knife. They all dug out the small blocks of C-4 given to them for their task, and Max told Maria and Jace to dig a hole. They didn’t have a lot of time before a second team would be sent out after the first failed to return.

Maria and Jace followed Natasha’s lead and dropped most of the gear. Maria knew there had to be a plan to escape, but she wouldn’t ask them to trust her with the details. As far as they knew, she played a part to make them comfortable enough to allow her to betray them.

Max looked at Natasha as she set the charge into the shallow hole. “Can you make it?”

“Not at your speed, but I’ll make it.”

Max shook her head. “We’re going to have more tails than originally planned. We need to go at our speed.”

Maria smirked. “Assassin want a piggyback ride?”

“I’ll slit your throat,” Natasha hissed.

“You’ll try.”

“I hate all of you,” Natasha muttered as she took a canteen from Jace and drained it.

“Can’t hate us unless you’re paying attention,” Max said. “Once this blows, we go one klick due north. If transport doesn’t arrive after five minutes, we repeat.”

“We won’t make it over the walls,” Jace warned. “Twice as high than we were kids, doubled ten feet apart, and covered with electrified barbwire.”

“That’s excessive,” Natasha said.

Max snorted. “That’s a lot of dead birds.” She held up the remaining C-4. “Still don't know why they trusted us with this stuff.”

"I think Director Renfro's objective for the test and the Colonel's are different," Jace said. 

They retreated away from the blast radius. Max triggered the explosion while Maria settled Natasha on her back. They took off at speed even as alarms started to echo from the main building. At the walls, Max took a running leap up the concrete and tossed the C-4 through the barbed wire mesh.

The explosion caused more alarms and blew circuit breakers. They were just out of sight of the base when they stopped. Natasha was off Maria’s back within moments.

“Momentum, Hill. Most people are affected by it.”

“To be fair, I’ve never had a passenger while moving that fast before.”

The look Natasha gave her was confusing; it was as if Natasha wasn’t expecting that reply. The five-minute wait left them all on edge. The newer series would be able to track their scents easily enough. They took off again, and when they arrived, a helicopter was closing in.

It was no military helicopter, that was for sure.

“This is our escape?” Jace asked, dubious.

“This is part one of the escape,” Natasha said as she grabbed one of the dropped lines.

They climbed up as the ‘copter headed for the highway in the distance. May was piloting, and Sharon immediately started to examine Maria and Natasha.

Maria barely nudged her cousin away. “Fuck off, Sharon, I’m fine.”

“I’ll let Fraiser be the judge of that.”

Jace snagged one of the saline IVs and dropped it in Natasha’s lap.

“I think I hate you most,” Natasha said even as she let Sharon set up the fluid infusion.

Jace shrugged. “That’s fine. Some days I hate myself.”

The SUV waiting for them beside the dark highway was an older model on the outside but definitely updated inside. Antoine drove at a legal speed as the helicopter burst into flames behind them.

Maria settled next to Jace and didn’t fight the protein bar and water bottle Sharon shoved into her hands. Natasha was trying not to pass out next to Max. Given Natasha had a choice as to who to sit by, Maria had a feeling their friendship was over.

And with how Sharon and Antoine weren’t joking around or barely looking at her...

That was fine. Maria had been stupid to think any bond outside her siblings would survive Manticore.

Chapter Text

Maria felt a wave of exhaustion hit when she entered Peggy’s apartment. The two weeks after escaping from Manticore a second time took so much more out of her than the first time. It wasn’t so much the cautionary deprogramming as it was the...social aspects.

“Go shower while you’re still on your feet,” Peggy half ordered, half suggested.

Maria nodded and headed for the bathroom. The only reason she was here was due to Sharon already passing through. No one else would think to look for Maria in the home of SHIELD’s co-creator and former Director. When she emerged from the steaming bathroom, there was a cup of tea and a small meal waiting for her. She must have been graceless in sitting because Peggy was giving her a concerned look.

“I took the quickest flights here,” Maria said. “Didn’t sleep on the way.”

“I suppose I should feel assured that you’ll still let your guard down enough for me to notice. Sharon’s told me the bulk of it if you don’t want to repeat yourself.”

Maria sipped the tea and knew she’d be sleeping soon enough if she wanted to or not. “I’m just...tired. And I haven’t given thought to what happens next, so I’m irritable about the lack of a plan.”

“I assume Director Fury isn’t going to fire you?”

Maria scoffed. “He wouldn’t even if he wanted to. And after the agreement he negotiated with the World Security Council, SHIELD is pretty much the only safe place for me officially. No, I’m...I haven’t spoken to Sharon or Antoine since we left Manticore. I know they were sent on their next assignments as soon as they were cleared. I also understand they’re not happy about my secret-keeping-”

“They understand perfectly well why secrets were kept. Their minds are far more influenced by emotions than yours, Maria. They’re questioning how unobservant they’ve been, wondering if they’ve made your life better or worse for their presence, and integrating what they’ve learned with what they’ve always known. And they assume you need space to deal with revisiting a childhood nightmare. Which is not incorrect.”

Maria swallowed her bite of food. “How are you always right?” she groused.

“Habit.”

Maria’s glare was met with a serene smile. Rolling her eyes, she asked, “Did Sharon tell you about Max and Jace?”

“Only that Max is impatiently waiting for Jace to be cleared for Ops Academy.”

“Max was given the option to start without her, but she’s loyal. They’ll have to wait for the next class year, but I think Agent Hand will keep them busy in the Hub.”

“I’ve no doubt.”

Maria finished her meal and was sent to bed. She didn’t protest. Sleeping on a proper bed, in a proper room, settled something in her for the first time in weeks. Her dreams didn’t grow into nightmares, and when she woke, it was well past dawn.

“You look much better for the rest,” Peggy said when Maria found her. “If you’d like something to do, I’ve made a list of groceries and sundries. After you eat.”

Maria rolled her eyes but made herself a sandwich before taking the list. It wasn’t long due to Sharon likely doing the same supply run when she’d been by. Still, the mundane task, even with her general situational awareness, got the antsy feeling out of her legs.

“Have anything else that needs doing while I’m here?” Maria asked once everything was put away.

“There are things that need doing, but nothing requiring a supersoldier. As it is, I’ll need to think of new tasks for the children down the hall. They’ll be displeased you and Sharon have taken my grocery runs from them two weeks in a row.” Peggy was much loved by the dozen children in the building; she paid well for the chores they did for her. Maria and Sharon were always relieved to know Peggy wasn’t trying to fend for herself.

Maria settled in with a book and decided she could check out for the rest of the day. She would make dinner and see if she could yet beat Peggy at cards. It wasn’t the worst way to spend her downtime.

Two days later, Peggy brought up the last thing Maria was expecting. “You haven’t said a word about Agent Romanoff.”

Maria paused in her meal prep. While she had spoken briefly of the Manticore ordeal, she had reported nothing but the basics of Natasha. “I...dislike to think how much I’m going to miss Romanoff.”

“Oh? Is she not going to remain at shield?”

“She is. I’m used to being far more practical when it comes to interpersonal relationships with people. I should NOT have gotten so accustomed to the idea of someone being in my life when they don’t know my origins.”

“Sharon has told me Romanoff is avoiding everyone. Don’t take it personally, Maria.”

“No, it’s not that. I understand what she’s doing; it’s why I’m here with you. But the, for lack of a better word, friendship we had is over.”

“For any particular reason? Surely being enhanced herself wouldn’t lead to her avoiding another super soldier.”

“I’m the reason she was tortured and forced into enduring a 72 hour day. She’s not going to associate with any of us again after that.”

“I do believe Agent Romanoff understood the risks of retrieving you.”

Maria shook her head. “There’s understanding, and then there’s experiencing Manticore. I won’t blame her, I just...it was fun while it lasted.”

Peggy said nothing more on the subject. Maria didn’t have it in her to be suspicious. The conversation was over, and that was all that mattered.

*

Two weeks later, after a mission, Maria handed a protein bar to Natasha. Things had gone well professionally. They hadn’t the time for Maria to test how things would go personally. But Natasha’s small smile was genuine as she took the food. Maria quirked a grin and headed up to help Barton pilot them home.

Maybe things weren’t going back to what they’d been. But something new would be better than nothing.

Natasha was a lot of things; spy, assassin, chameleon, actress extraordinaire. It was only very, very recently that she was just Natasha. Who was she when she wasn’t any of the things she was trained to be? What kind of likes and dislikes did she have outside of the Red Room’s preferences?

Looking at the space shark backpack, Natasha didn’t know how she felt about those answers being found while dealing with or in proximity to one Maria Hill. Sure, Clint and Coulson had a hand in helping Natasha figure out who she was when she wasn’t the Black Widow. But with Maria, it had been...effortless.

And now she knew why.

Maria had already gone through the same adjustment period. Maria understood Natasha on a level no one else could. Natasha no longer saw Maria as insane for taking a cattle prod multiple times; of course Maria would do what she could to slow down the Red Room. She feared the exact same things Natasha did.

The difference being Maria was able to stop the Red Room. Natasha supposed Manticore did have better resources. 

Sighing, Natasha snagged a granola bar from the bag and stuffed it back into the closet before leaving SHIELD. She didn’t need to stash food in her quarters; she used the cabinets like a more well-adjusted human. But the bag and its store of candy and other goodies not associated with the Black Widow had become...a comfort.

Walking to Maria’s apartment probably wasn’t her greatest idea, but the constant movement didn’t let her mind wander. Keep an eye on everyone, look for patterns where they shouldn’t be, try the new kind of hotdog from the stand even if it likely wasn’t really reindeer. Of course, when she got to Maria’s place, she froze.

The Black Widow had half a dozen lines ready to deploy. Natasha had none.

The door opened after a few minutes.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” Maria said as she left the door open and returned to the couch.

“That’s what the kids call creepy.”

“Who’s kids are you interacting with?”

“Sitwell’s.”

Maria didn’t look like she believed her, but she also didn’t question it.

Natasha pulled the half-eaten hotdog from her jacket as she sat. “Does this taste like reindeer?”

Maria took the food and bit into it. “Not good reindeer, but yeah, it’s reindeer.”

“How do you know what good reindeer tastes like?”

“Op gone sideways in the Yukon.”

“Fresh reindeer is different.”

Maria finished the hotdog before getting up to get them drinks. She didn’t bother with beer like she had every time before. Another part of the facade dropped. “What brings you by?”

Natasha frowned, staring into the bottle of cream soda. “I...couldn’t tell you without being someone else.”

Maria considered her for a long moment. “That’s fine.” She handed over the television remote. “Think about it, or don’t. You’re welcome here as long as you’re not trying to kill me.”

Knowing what she did now, Natasha wondered if there were still things Maria couldn’t figure out about herself. “I need a rematch against Max, by the way.”

“You’ll have to wait until she and Jace are out of the Academy.”

“Well, I’ve never been. Perhaps I should.” She turned on the t.v. and started channel surfing.

“No, you should NOT. The last thing a SHIELD academy needs is three supersoldiers trying to outdo each other while pretending they aren’t supersoldiers.”

“I’m a super spy, thank you.”

Maria rolled her eyes. Natasha settled on a show with a quiet man describing the lives of predatory cats in the Masai Mara. It turned out to be a marathon of the show, and Natasha decided she wasn’t leaving until she learned what happened to the latest litter of cubs. Maria didn’t seem to mind and even ordered pizza.

It wasn’t too late into the night when Natasha tossed a pillow against Maria and lay down on the sofa, curling up on her side to continue to watch. Maria shook her head in amusement and moved her arm to the back of the couch. Natasha considered her options and picked the riskiest one.

Snagging Maria’s hand, she settled the arm around her and said, “I don’t know how to tell you why I’m here as myself. But I think I can figure it out, eventually, if I’m with you.”

Maria laced their fingers together. “Take your time. Maybe when you figure it out, I’ll be able to explain why being here with you like this feels perfect.”

Natasha felt her shoulders relax. There was a time when uncertainty would...concern her. But with Maria learning beside her, Natasha knew the two of them would figure something out.

They always had, and always would.