Chapter Text
Spysassin
She was in her teen years when she first found the words. She didn't know what they were, but didn't ask anyone, as weapons don't ask questions. But as time passed, and she stopped thinking of herself as a weapon... and spending time away from eyes long enough to, research, she found an answer of sorts.
Around the world, for centuries, many people of the world have been bonded with another. A mystical bond, some call soul-mates. The bond shows itself most often solely through the words spoken by each showing up as almost like a tatoo on the body of the other... most often in locations actually readable without much effort. Maybe an arm or leg. Hardly ever on a shoulder or the back, or the head, and so forth.
Usually, until the day they meet, the words on each others skin is a mere sentence that changes roughly once a day - sometimes less time, sometimes more time. The words will only fade without replacement for one/two reasons - the more permanent reason being death, but the non-permanent is if the person the words come from was knocked unconscious / put in a coma. Sleep, a true, deep sleep, doesn't count. If they wake up before it was to change, the previous words return to the skin of their bonded. If after, then something shows up, even if it's the last words spoken before they were knocked out, or the first words spoken from when they wake up. And the timing for that... for pairs who have met and this happens, it has been observed as the words on the skin of one only showing up once the other has awoken and spoken.
After they meet, the frequency of changes, changes. It can be faster, or slower. Once an hour, or once a month. It can be a line of communication, where only the words with the most intent make it across when the moment of change comes, or completely random. What is known, is that the less time spent around each other, the sooner it returns to that once-a-day frequency. So if they meet just the once, soon enough it's back to once a day. If they end up living together... it doesn't matter and so it's as often as being helpful for a grocery run, or so rare it's like they're not even bonded.
As for what the bond means... it doesn't mean anything, seemingly. Some bonded pairs married, since a male/female pairs do exist. But some don't (or can't), because it's between two of the same gender - so male/male, or female/female, which in most places of the world, can't marry. That's not to say it's romantic but doesn't always end with marriage, but rather that it's not always romantic, that there have been pairs who wanted nothing to do with each other. A lot of times I can't be romantic even, not because of gender, but age gaps, with the elder sometimes being already married before the birth of their 'bonded'... which a lot of the "it's got to be romantic" crowd seem to ignore.
Sometimes it was a historical figure with a random person, sometimes historical figures as a pair - some of those as friends, some of those as enemies. Mostly, it's random people who aren't important to 'big picture stuff'.
When all is said and done, it seems, in the last half-century where tracking such things became easier, it looks like only about half of the world are in a pair bond. And most of them have no idea who the other is. Many of them unable to understand, since the written words are in the written form of the language spoken by the one who spoke those words, not the one of the one reading them.
The words on her own skin were in English, though she herself was Russian, and knew that her own words would, therefore, show up in Russian, unless the words for that day happen to be in any of the dozen languages she knew.
But just because her research said that her bonded could be a random person she'd never actually meet... didn't mean that her inner rebel didn't want to use it as a way out.
Certainly... protect that she has a bonded from the unfortunately deadly gaze of the Red Room, of the KGB...
She didn't know, however, whether or not she wished to be normal in the case of how the bonds usually are. because with the words, come the feeling behind them.
Her bonded, who knows which of her words make it across, so her bonded could be, daily, experiencing the coldness of an assassin, or the pain form the training. One, or the other.
She herself hates that what her experiences are, is pain most often than not. Pain of, what she had quickly discovered to likely be child abuse of someone in a foster system.
Those are one set of deaths she'd never regret, if she ever had the opportunity.
-
Hacker
For a long time, she'd not even put how she randomly felt together with the words. The coldness, or the pain. Until one day... one day the words 'I'm free.' showed up, with sheer elation when she knew she had no reason to feel it herself.
She'd learned the meanings when she could - difficult, with all the worries of the red scare, so she couldn't tell anyone her bonded seemed to be, of all things, Russian, but that didn't matter.
Watching as the Berlin Wall fell a week later, made her wonder if her bonded was there, part of a movement, or something... except for knowing from some of the words she'd eventually translated out of her 'Words Diary' talked about missions and killing.
Her bonded, her older bonded... had to be a spy or assassin, or probably, both.
She had no idea how to handle that concept, that her, a random foster kid who never stayed anywhere more than two months, seemed to be bonded to a spy/assassin.
The nuns liked to think that the bonds were off the people 'you deserve the most', that it was always either about fate and romantic... or not having a soul 'if the bondmate is the same sex'. Never mind that Lucy who was two years older got to meet her own bonded at twelve, and it turned out to be a forty-year old maniac who... but no, there was 'no problem' with that because 'fate and romance' and shit.
(She may have a little problem with religion.)
(She may also have a little not-a-problem with being ten and therefore couldn't possibly be suspect in the murder of a saintly charitable member of the local government)
(She may also-also be glad that some of the words she read in English helped a bit with knowing how to cover up stuff...)
She didn't believe that.
(Never mind that archer boy, her favorite of her 'brothers' met his bonded and they hit it off, and the pair disappeared out of the system to join a circus troupe, like rapid...)
When she ran from the system, too tired, too pained, too jaded and too damn pissed off with the constant rotating display of bullshit, she'd had nothing to say for days except the same as what she'd read for just as long on her arm.
"I'm free."
She hoped that her feelings made it across. And one day, maybe, they could meet up and be free together... even if not together-together.
-
Spysassin
She didn't have to hide it, when some bow-and-arrow using agent of SHIELD found her and helped her... She wasn't worried about that, when she was brought in. She was worried, but not for that. But because the words were gone.
They'd been gone a month. (One long, depressing, but mostly terror-inducing month. And she didn't have a normal way of showing it...)
But she was marble. She could handle this. (It wasn't the first time. Nor the first time showing it that way...)
She could handle the stares, and the fear. (Her history was summed up with 'ex agent of the red room', that should have been a given.)
Then one day there were words on her skin once more. 'I'm alive and sorry I scared you.' (Everyone wondered at the sudden change, and only a handful seemed to figure she was lying about 'making sure people kept a distance whilst I adjusted')
She found one long weekend enough to make sure she said nothing but her reply on the Friday. ('I'm glad you're okay and wondering what happened so I know if I need to kill anyone for you.')
Her bonded had all of Saturday to come up with a response to say on the Sunday, to be read on the Monday. Slow, but... it worked. ('If you hear about that pedo governor of a state from out west who died in an apparently accidental car crash then I know nothing about nothing so thank you but I don't need help this time.')
She wasn't sure which shocked her more. That her bonded, apparently, killed a guy... or the sheer and utter relief that she had, meant her bonded probably wouldn't have a problem with her own history... (well at least now she's trying to make amends for killing the 'wrong' people by kinda-sorta killing the 'really-wrong people')
She hadn't just used the Friday to make sure of Saturday's words. But Saturday, for Sunday's words, seeking out line of communication...
'I don't have a cell-phone or even other easy means to talk to you but when I do I'll try to find a weekend suitable for you.'
She didn't realize it, but it would be a few years before that weekend happened.
-
Hacker
The weekend came, but not as soon as she'd hoped.
After totaling her previous ride, ''accidentally'', and coming away from it with nothing but a scratch (and over a month in a coma) she'd ended up with huge medical bills, because the american health system sucked like that, and nothing to her name, because running from the foster system and going on a social justice crime spree living off the grid for ''reasons'' wasn't conducive to being wealthy... not for long, anyway.
But then came this gig for some big military-industrial complex company that smelled iffy.
Really iffy.
Sure, there was a downside, like, big downside. Guy was a total horn-dog, but also a genius, and... well the kind where he could (when he pulled his head out of his own ass) recognize the genius of others.
It paid well. Really well. Like, cleared her medical bills, well.
So she went from living in hostels / her cheapest-as-could-be car because those bills somehow followed her everywhere, to debt-free, and plenty of petty cash for splurged expenses, like a mid-80s Ford-badged van, Econosomething or other with a bla-bla-460 something engine, that a 'friend' gushed over for some daft reason. ('A van's just a van' 'GASP SHOCK No it ISN'T!' guy was totally mad.) Though, that may have been after a few... upgrades. (Knowing a guy who liked ICE-powered Electric vehicles... weird but also, meant it accelerated like CRAZY.) Also, a tow bar so she could pull her living space, also not-quite-new but not-really-ever-used, so she had a full-sized double bed, an actual (RV construction-) kitchen and shower, she just needed places to park it. The back of the van then became her office space, so she could park the caravan out of the area, and 'commute' to wherever she could find a decent place to get internet connection.
Really, getting a decent cell phone usable for that stuff and phone calls, higher priority than a basic-doesn't-even-have-internet-or-gps brick.
She'd spent the Thursday reciting the phone number within the carefully-constructed sentence.
Friday...
Bang on the dot of the wrong hour, it rang, three seconds, off, then again, then on the third attempt, as part of the whole, protocol they'd slowly communicated, she actually answered.
"... Natasha."
"... Skye."
"... This was really convoluted, you know that, right?"
"I'm a spy for the company with that 'backronym' as you called it, and former member of the JFA. It is necessary... for your protection."
... "Fine. Also... Hey." She sighed as she curled up on her small couch in her carefully-parked caravan. "I get it. I mean, the fact they don't know birdie has a dove and his little tweeters..."
"What do y... oh, yeah... also I'm using that next time I see them."
"Hm. So whats the over-under of us actually meeting anytime soon?"
"... I rarely get time off. I'm lucky to have weekends free..."
"I could have your next vacation request go through?"
"And how do... oh. No. Skye. No. You'll get caught..."
"They've not caught me yet!"
Oops.
"... Wut?" A long string of Russian followed that she winced at, knowing after a second of translating in her head, but then... "What level access...?"
"... uh... I know about Argentina, Brazil, Cuba, Denmark, Estonia..." She smiled at the response, and added, "I don't need the full A-B-C's of all that I know."
"I'm regretting telling you my name." was a dead-pan reply.
"... A, no you're not." Skye grinned to herself.
Natasha must have snorted, as a mutter was followed by, "No I'm not." and a moment of... Skye didn't know what the feeling was, or from who it came, since she didn't know if a cellphone conversation counted enough to change the bond that way.
"And B, I already knew because Russian spy and assassin, who joined because her recruiter was ordered to kill her but decided to recruit instead is a very narrow field of possibilities to look up, you know."
"... How long?"
"... ok so I found out only two years after you joined up, but... still..."
"Oh. So how much do you know..."
"... Wrong people, now 'really wrong people' and isn't that description in your file just awesome. not. But I don't mind, really."
"I've killed people, Skye."
"So have I."
"You got into a car accident."
"Did I though? Accident that wasn't accidental, Natasha. And he wasn't the first." She sighed. "... I... I haven't ever spoken of this, so, excuse if I go silent a bit, but the first time..."
She struggled a moment, then began.
-
Natasha
It was a few weeks before she went undercover for a long period. And those weeks, when she walked the halls of a shield base and her handler and her recruiter couldn't help notice something, off, it took everything (not really) not to blurt out what worried and bothered her (not really that, either)
It was only undercover that she realized that what she felt, was relief.
Skye understood her. Years of... the wrong sentences on her skin, knowing what they where and the feelings behind them... it meant that Skye found herself capable of doing the right thing, even when most would say 'murder' isn't that.
So Skye was both the same and different. Capable of pulling the trigger, worrisome... on the 'really wrong', as Clint once put it (even in her file! What the hell, Clint!) not so much.
They were both killers. Herself, because of brainwashing, but that meant her bonded... could muster the courage to kill to defend. And even at an age younger than she was when she took her first kill, though the age difference (potentially only four years, but at most six years) meant that Natasha had already killed, at twelve, so when Skye got her first kill, Natasha was well past that.
And really, both being... that...
It did mean that she had to find an opportunity to insert certain facts into SHIELDs' investigation, of both deaths.
Funny thing is, she was implicated in the first one! When she was still in RUSSIA.
(Skye found that funny when she related it one night, but also, worrisome that she'd picked up enough to set up the tell-tale signature of Red Room Black Widows).
Still, that line of communication was a blessing, now.
Almost every night, for weeks and months and years, they talked when they should have slept (one sometimes earlier than the other, time zones.) Then she went undercover and had to use cover-up over the patch of skin where the words were.
Words that changed either every twelve hours, or forty-eight, or twenty-four, like the bond was confused as to whether or not the phone calls counted.
It meant that the bond was active for feeling each other's emotions a lot more, though, enough that the random feeling of elation, or surprise, or terror, was a big distraction... yet also a help in maintaining a cover, as a nervous new hire.
And that practice and control really came into play when one of her bosses brought in a cyber security consultant who stared at her hard... and then pinching herself with a half-grin, and she felt that pinch.
Skye was here.
... and she should be forgiven for immediately thinking, not of security concerns, or worries... but, ah... 'She's pretty'.
-
Hacker
It was... too much fun... tweaking her bonded's nose. But still, it was awesome and terrifying and ridiculous that they first met, in person, when they're both undercover. Natasha as some girl called 'Natalie', and herself as a supposedly-culver educated computer security specialist. (Tony knew the truth, knew she was totally bullshitting about that)
But... damn. The months and months of actually working together both in terms of their cover identities, and outside of the cover, helping each others' investigation because, turns out, related though not strictly the same!
Natasha's was related to the mysterious appearance of US-Military-Only equipment produced by the weapons manufacturer ending up in the hands of terrorist groups.
Hers was related to the mysterious disappearance of various civilians and contractors who produced some of that gear, and she'd been hired part-and-part by the grieving families and therefore by the guy whos name was on the building because the guy found it fishy. (After she brought it up to him, anyway, and he gave her the go-ahead and means to do it even).
Then Tony disappeared on a weapons demonstration. For Months, and she found a ransom video that sort of wasn't. It was that, in a way, but also evidence of holy-jesus-on-a-pikestaff.
Even as she spread it around the world in the hacker groups she was part of, ready for a public showing (they only agreed so she could have time to get to safety if they discovered it was her who got it), Natasha passed on a copy to her bosses.
Then, before the pincers could go in... Tony came back, with a glowing thing in his chest and no clue his dad's supposed-best-friend had tried to have him killed.
-
Aftermath
"I need a break."
They shared a look, then laughed at how they'd both said the same thing.
"The investigation isn't over, is it?" Skye asked nervously after their laughter died down. "He can't have done it alone."
"... I've got another six months. They want to be sure that even with Stark taking over..." She looked over, "And Fury wants me to run a new profile on him..."
"Suiting up didn't fit his psych profile? But also admitting to it... kind of did?"
"No, it didn't, and yes."
Skye smirked, then sighed as it turned to a sad smile. "I'm not surprised. Daddy issues being the driving force of a lot, but... Did you see how he opened that press conference?"
"No, I didn't."
"Well... everyone else seemed to forget, but I didn't. Me and a whole bunch of my hacker buddies, actually."
"What did he say?"
Skye thought over, and then, began to recite... "He said, 'I never got to say goodbye to my father, there's questions that I would have asked him, I would have asked, how he felt about what his company did, if he ever had doubts... and if he was every bit the man we remember from the newsreels...' "
"I don't..." Natasha began, but Skye shook her head. "What?"
"I'm getting there. He continued, 'I saw young americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them, and I saw that I had become part of the system that is comfortable with zero accountability'... The press missed like, everything that mattered."
Natasha muttered under her breath, "Damn."
"Yeah. Everyone looks at the playboy part of his... antics, and assume that's the main part, with occasional bits of technical genius." Skye sighed. "It's... really the other way around, and his playboy antics are... were... an escape from deep depression and loneliness. Did you know he was seven years old when his dad made him run through that military SERE training thing?"
"What? No."
"People never ask what affect that could have... Training a kid at being a Hostage. Or the other stuff, like seeing big daddy warbucks making millions off the government to make bullets and guns and missiles. Seeing newsreels about how his dad made boats, and bombers and nukes that killed like, millions, and be applauded for it. Activists, for years, cried about the military-industrial complex, and newscasters joined in a lot... yet soon as the 'Lord of War' himself turned around and said 'enough was enough'? Is it any wonder, really, that the one time he drops the mask, he recoils from that and puts it back up,"
Natasha sighed. "So... I have my work cut out for me to compile a proper profile on him?"
"Probably. Just know that he wont like being spied on, if it comes out."
Little did either know, that particular tidbit meant the spy handled things a little... differently... when it came time to meet the guy.
-
Natasha
She barely kept in the smirk.
"Now play nice, Agent Lady."
Okay, she didn't manage to, but then again, it was... for once... fun. She didn't get to have much fun undercover all that often. (that he's not a mark and therefore little issue with him knowing she was undercover... kind of a boost.)
"Agent?"
Oh, right, Miss Potts didn't know.
"I've been undercover at Stark Industries for over a year now." She informed, before Tony could. "My mission has been the investigation of potential sales of classified weapons technology to terrorist organizations around the world. SHIELD were aware long before his captivity that they somehow had access to weapons before they even entered into the black market."
Miss Potts stopped at that, and Tony nearby smirked at them both, but it was a sad one. "If I had known she and Skye were friends, I'd have asked her to invite Agent Lady to help from the start."
"Skye? You're friends with Skye?" Miss Potts blurted out in surprise. "... Is Skye SHIELD too?"
"Nope." Was her succinct reply with also a sad smile. "And SHIELD doesn't even know about Skye, so please..." She mimed 'zip it' and Tony snorted at that. "SHIELD wanted me to put a Psychological profile together about Mr Stark. Skye... pointed out how much of his public antics were just part of his mask." She side-eyed the billionaire. "And made sure I knew about his remarks at that first press conference."
"Which ones?"
"How he saw young Americans... died to his own creations." She looked back at the more-than-a-secretary. "That Skye is friendly with Mr Stark... I decided to be more open."
"She spilled the beans on being a spy, like... first day. Did I apologize about the-"
"You did." She replied quickly. "I recognized it was part of your mask anyway." She looked back at Miss Potts, who looked away embarrassed. "Anyway, I've got some files for you, Miss Potts." She handed over some. "I may be undercover, but the cover job is still a real job."
"For now."
She smiled widely, amused, but nodded in agreement.
"... What's this about Hammertech?" Pepper asked, looking at one file.
... "I believe that the US Military, much like the press, missed the most important part of that first press conference, and are capitalizing on Colonel Rhodes' appropriation of the Mark II armor, wishing it to be weaponized."
Tony was insulted. "And they went to Justin Hammer?"
-
Skye
Much like quite some time ago that Stark asked her to assist and see if Stane had networked his stupid 'warmonger' suit to the internet (which he had) and if that meant she could shut it down (mess with the weapons, yes, shut it down entirely, no.) He'd called from the expo thing in New York, asking her to hack not one armor... but like several dozen.
It was ridiculous.
"Tony I can't just hack fifty robots!"
"Since when-oof Rhodey watch your aim!!"
"... Is Rhodes SHOOTING YOU?" She barely stopped as she did what she once criticized Hollywood for portraying hackers as, rushed-to-hell typing away at five hundred words a minute with stupid UI that's far from the reality. Yet here she was, typing as fast as she could, on two separate keyboards, because of course she had more than one machine built into the mobile-office-van. And being glad for knowing Russian since... "Stupid- I'll do Rhodes suit first!"
"BE QUICK! He's got a damn cannon on that thing!"
"Skye I'm at Hammertech now, Vanko's not here..."
"What? Wait... I see... Okay thanks for the routing Nat, I see them all... Rhodes should be back up now Tony."
"Thank you I DID NOT like being shot at by my best friend!"
"Stark you have incoming. Vanko's in a suit of his own."
"... I see that, Romanoff."
"Is that your secretary you're talking to?"
"Greetings Major Douchebag."
"Skye!" "He's not a Maj-" "What?"
"He stole your suit!"
"To be fair, Tony kind of had that coming."
"He had his chance to BE Iron Man!"
"I what?"
"And he completely flipped on you for not making more weapons to kill Young Americans!"
"... Well..."
"Who is that Tony?"
"My eye in the sky."
"So... she's A-WACS-o then?"
"First, Mr Air Force... bad pun. And Second... call me that again, and I'll make the suit twerk when you land in front of a bunch of brass and maybe have it use the ugliest as a stripper pole."
"I'd listen to her, Rhodey, she'd do it too."
"What, you think she could hack your su... my suit?"
"Considering Stark hired her to investigate corrupt elements within Stark Industries months before he went to Afghanistan?"
"She also helped me program the mark II suit, and actually created the remote-control protocols-""
"Guys... Oh look, there's a self destruct program in the robots. Neat."
"... Uh Miss..."
"Don't worry, plenty of time and... now they're all running to dive in the nearest river."
"... Where's Vanko now, Skye? I'm on my way back to the Expo..."
"He's... ha, shouldn't have had remote control on his own suit the idiot..."
"Tony... I'm scared."
"Oh look, his suit also has a self-destruct."
"... You're going to kill him?"
"... Considering he just committed terrorism on US Soil, and JARVIS has confirmed to me that his puppeted hammeroids shooting at the glass ceiling killed dozens alone, and they've been on a deadly rampage right until I got control? It's a goddamn public service."
"Seriously, Tony, where did you find this girl?"
"Enough of that Colonel Rhodes. Skye, I need you to do Ghost Protocol."
"But I-"
"I'll do the hit, it's my job."
"... But-"
"Do you want SHIELD to know about you?"
"No..."
"Then let me do my job! Stark, do you have his location?"
-
Natasha
"I saw the War Machine suit on the news."
Skye just hummed from the left couch of the caravan.
Natasha sighed as she put her feet up right next to Skye, sat back on the right couch as she was almost directly opposite. "Really, Skye?"
".... well I promised not to make it twerk..."
"... But not to not make it use someone as a stripper pole."
Skye just cheekily grinned. "That Stern guy's an asshole." Then, with a fading smile turning into a frown. "And there's something fishy about him."
"... Pedo?"
"Not all of my targets are that, Nat." A sigh "Is... is it bad that I even have a kill count, and I'm not a soldier or assassin, or psychopath... but I'm also not sorry?"
Natasha just sent her a look.
"Right... Ask the spysassin a stupid question."
"They were all... criminals, Skye, who used their power to remain unpunished, if not outright undetected by those who could, and should, have done the punishing." with a moment of hesitation, she dropped her feet to the floor and switched to sit next to the younger girl.... woman.
"But I don't feel regret for taking life. Not any of it... or for how I took them out..."
"You're worried that one day you might kill an innocent... and not feel bad?"
Skye nodded, and so Natasha pulled her into a hug. "I can't say you shouldn't be worried. Look at me, Skye... all the death I've caused, when I was with the Red Room and the KGB... I ... I probably have killed innocent people, and at the time, I didn't care, not a bit."
"Yeah but... the brainwashing..."
"I know. And when it broke, yes, I felt guilt... a lot... of guilt... But that lessened every time I either found one of my targets really had been ... a bad guy... or I found a new deserving target... Or better..."
"What's better than that?"
"Recognizing when someone does bad things not because they like it, like the people you've killed. But the ones who were forced into doing that... And I gave them an out. Just like Clint gave me an out."
Skye huffed, and leant into the hug. "I still don't actually feel bad, though..."
"Because you have empathy for the people who you know for a fact to have been their victims. You haven't taken a life where their guilt was ambiguous... have you?"
"... No, I,... I always had proof... not that the police could do anything... or would."
"Exactly. Would you have pulled the trigger on Vanko, if had hadn't caused innocent people to die, if he kept his vendetta to just Stark?"
"... I don't think so."
She would have said more, but her cellphone - her SHIELD cell phone - rang, and so she answered.
"Hey Natasha... I saw the news. Just can't stay out of trouble can you, and how the hell did you turn those robots into lemmings?"
"Hey Clint." She glanced at Skye, gave a wink at the woman who was close enough to hear even without the phone on speaker, and answered, "I blame Stark. Both counts."
Skye frowned, but Clint's response distracted her. "You're going to blame... okay... anyway I heard that your missions over now, and I've got time off from my own... crazy... mission, figured I'd go check out a circus, see if the old faces are still around."
Natasha sighed. "And you're inviting me to join..." She looked at Skye, who still was frowning, and wondered at that frown... the feelings over the bond were weird. "Sorry, but I've... got plans of my own before I get brought in for whatever the next mission is."
"Really? Because if they are, I know some of them are going to ask about you, see if you've got any new trickshots, maybe even see if we can do that act, me with my bow, you with your bites..."
Skye's eyes widened... then shouted "BARTON! YOU SONOFA... YOURE BIRDIE?!"
She almost jumped through the rough at the sudden shout.
"... Who's that?"
"Skye?"
"ARCHER BOY! Don't you remember me?" Skye asked, pulling the phone to her own ear, with a shit-eating grin.
Somehow, the action had turned it to speaker, so it was clear when he replied... "... There's only one Skye I know... Hey there Mar-"
"I WILL HACK YOUR SHIELD FILE IF YOU CALL ME THAT AGAIN ARCHER BOY!"
Silence... then...
"She would, too Clint. Also, you two know each other?"
"... Isn't that my line?"
Skye sighed. "Clint, It's Natashas Words."
"Ouch."
"Shush. and Natasha... Clint was that older brother I told you about that ran away for the circus."
... "What a small world."
"Hey you should come too, it'll be fun, introduce you to the circus and all that!"
"... Don't you dare."
"Sounds fun?"
"... Great, It'll be like a family reunion."
"... Barton..."
-
Skye
If anything confirmed it, it was Laura taking one look at Skye, running and hugging the girl. (And no mention of that name, instead using her chosen name.)
Skye was glad, too, because being at the Barton farm meant that the long-overdue reunion could clear the air a bit... and also get the heavier stuff out of the way.
"So how did you two finally meet?" Laura asked as they all settled.
"And why didn't you tell me you met your bonded... or even had one?" Clint pouted at the spysassin.
Natasha sighed, but Skye just laughed as she answered for them. "It actually took us years to meet up, once we... both... were somewhere that would could somewhat unreasonably make use of our words to communicate."
"But that's like... A day to-" Laura paused, thinking it over...
"A full weekend just to trade sentence/response." Natasha answered. "And since I was keeping Skye a secret like Clint kept you a secret..."
Laura rolled her eyes. "Yes yes, except I wasn't always a stay at home mother." She looked at Skye, and answered the questioning look, "We both joined the circus, then when that went to hell, SHIELD. I'd already quit however, so we could start this, when Clint rescued our little spider."
Clint laughed at that description, but sobered quickly. "But I've... seen the usual places words would be, Nat. When I took you in and you basically, kept passing out?"
"Wait what?" Skye interrupted, looking at NAt, "You were passing out?"
"... I was... on the run..."
"Yeah, and hungry as hell. How do you think I was even in a position to actually kill her?" Clint sighed. "If I had just left her, pretty sure starvation would have taken her."
"... Not literally. I just didn't have much means... And...." Natasha sighed. "It was when you were in a coma for a month after killing that governor."
"What!?" "COMA?" "Wait killing-"
Skye Whistled loudly, and then winced when the eavesdropping kiddos in the corner hid from it.
"To Answer, all of you. A month before Clint found and recruited me, Skye.. well.. there was a car,... accident. A governor died, and Skye was put in a coma." She paused, looked at Skye, "And I still haven't had words with you about that one, but we will."
"Eeep."
"She'd been in a coma for a month by the time you found me, so... a month of no words, at all."
Laura winced. "I can barely handle it when Clint's fades for a week... How did you handle a month?"
Natasha didn't answer quickly enough. Clint did. "You didn't, handle it. Did you? Were you... trying to kill yourself?"
"... Not really.. but... I was worried. The one good thing in my life and for all I knew she was dead?" Skye was frozen a few moments, before diving to hug the woman. "I... my food situation wasn't a refusal to eat, though, just a string of bad luck and... And then Clint recruited me instead of killing me, and being worried about you... and if you were dead... I..."
"Love is for children, you said." Clint spoke up with a frown. "I asked you why you weren't making friends, and that's what you said."
"And you said that didn't mean I couldn't have friends."
"And you replied to that with that its the basis of all you were taught." Clint looked between the two, then smiled. "Taught, but not quite fully believed in." A sigh, and Skye grinned to herself at the nod. "... Skye waking up is why you defrosted a bit." Clint realized with a grin, and smirked when Natasha nodded again.
"So..."
"So a few years on, and we managed long enough to set up a protocol for when Skye finally got a burner phone I could call without outing her. Then a few years before meeting at Stark Industries."
"... wait, there?"
Skye grinned, "Keeping in mind that I knew what she looked like because I saw her file, but she only had my description..."
"Troll."
"Eh... Your troll." She shrugged. "We were both undercover. Nat for SHIELD's investigation into the whole, terrorists have stark weapons thing, and me on a different but apparently related topic of corrupt businessmen not afraid to disappear people when they found something out. Apparently, that being Stane selling weapons to groups like, Al-Qaeda, Hamas, The Ten Rings..."
Laura smirked and shook her head at the seeming coincidence. "So, you're... CIA? NSA?"
"Independent. And Tony hired me, FYI. The Playboy mask is just that, a mask. Guy figured out something was fishy like a year before Stane set him up to be killed, or as they did it, kidnapped. I'm guessing he'd asked a few too many suspicious questions so Stane wanted him gone. My cover was as a computer security specialist, so they wouldn't twig but also get access to the network without tripping the usual systems." Skye sighed. "Which meant I had to go much slower than I would have, if he'd just given the word for free-reign."
"Which he did after his jaunt to Gulmira." Nat added.
"Cue more time with our covers, Natasha's shift in orders prompting her meeting Tony and, my warnings about the mask vs the real stark..."
Clint looked between them, "What did you do?"
"What I've not done before. Outed myself, since he wasn't technically a mark to eventually take down."
"He still almost had you kicked out though." Skye noted. "I had to vouch," She added looking at the concerned Clint. "Apparently, he trusts me well enough after being the only one other than Pepper Potts, who had his back on the 'dont make more bombs and missiles' thing."
"And instead he made a suit."
"It was for his best friend, an Air Force Major James Douchebag Ride or something or other."
"Who didn't have his friends back, then..." Laura guessed with a sigh. "Wasn't he there at the press conference? I watched it, and it's understandable after seeing terrorist groups with his weapons."
"Oh... okay I and my hacker buddies aren't the only ones who heard that then." Skye mused, looking at the woman with a grin.
"The loudest voices didn't."
"Ugh. Press."
They all laughed after a moment.
"So... Killing a governor with a car crash... wait you'd have been, what..." Clint worked it out, "... nineteen?"
"Eh, I don't remember."
"... Not many died by car crash, come to think of it."
"..."
"... Caston? Cranston? C something..."
"Carlson." Skye replied, then looked away.
"... Wait Carlson... Trevor Carlson." Clint looked at her, then at Laura. "SHIELD got called in on it,... hell..." He looked at Natasha with a wide eyed... "I remember now, why it stuck in my head! It's part of why I was sent after you, I was part of the investigation team trying to figure out how you got into the country when intel said you..." He looked at Skye... ".... Oh... Cranberries."
Skye winced, whilst Natasha grinned. "See it now?"
"... You used a Widows Bite to kill him."
"..."
Laura winced at the keening noise coming from somewhere.
"And the car accident was to make it look like he died in the crash..." Then ... "That's why you wanted to talk about that..." He looked at Natasha, who held the look for a moment... "... Holy shit you assassinated a governor?!"
"... Assassinate is a... strong... word."
"He was a pedophile." Natasha answered right after. "I've seen everything Skye had on each of her targets, people who the law wouldn't or couldn't touch."
Clint paled.
"Targets... plural."
"shit." "oops."
"Most were dirtier than some of the confirmed kills to my name." Natasha defended. "And the ones that weren't, on par with."
"... M... Most..."
"fuck". "goddamnit nat."
Laura just laughed her ass off.
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