Chapter 1: Desperate Times Require Desperate Decisions
Chapter Text
“Good god, Mel, take a breath, you look like you’re choking.”
“So sorry, ma’am. It’s just that…”
Deep underground, in the Oxcorp compound, Valentina de Fontaine narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”
“W-What?” Her assistant nearly dropped her tablet.
“Damnit, Mel, tell me the news.”
“Um…the headlines? Um…‘Terror At White House’…‘President Ross Sent To Prison’…’James Buchanan Barnes Running For Congressional Position, Sparking Fear Over Mind-Controlled Past’…‘Strange Phenomena Detected In Space’…”
“No, not that news, Mel. I don’t care about all that.”
“Even though the President turned into a…angry red hulk thing?”
“Give me the news that concerns me, Mel.”
“Oh, yeah. Um, so…rumors are that Congress is going to look into Oxcorp’s dealings.”
Val froze. “No.”
“Yeah. Um…apparently they caught wind of the…human experimentations?”
“That’s concerning. You couldn’t have led with that, instead of the filler about the White House and the Winter Soldier and the damn space phenomena?”
“You said read the news!”
“You know, you weren’t nearly this stupid when I hired you.”
Mel waved the tablet around. “I thought the part about our leader being a monster would concern you!”
“Never mind. Fine.” Val took a few deep breaths. “This is fine. We can work through this. We just have to get rid of the evidence. Send the last wave of participants through the testing. If it works, great, I’ll be a hero. If it doesn’t, then they’ll be disposed of like the rest of the crap.”
“So, um, I should give the Malaysia lab the go-ahead to complete the last round?”
“That’s what I just said, Mel. I swear, someone dropped you on your head when you were little.”
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“Uh-huh.” Val sipped her coffee. “At least you’re a good barista.”
“Yeah, that was my first summer job, actually.”
“Oversharing, Mel.”
“Sorry.”
Val rolled her eyes and tried to get her thoughts together. It was fine. So what if they did a silly investigation? It would turn up clean. That’s what cleanup-crew was for. To save her ass.
One last round, and she’d either be unimpeachable or she’d just have someone else take out the trash.
They could always try again later.
“Um, so Val…someone’s calling you.”
“Who is it?”
“Uh…well, it’s that…one agent…”
Val whipped around, nearly spilling her coffee.
“No,” she said sharply.
“Yeah, uh…Belova wants to talk to you.”
“Just send her a message instead, recommending her the cheapest therapist you can. If I have to listen to her drivel about how she was a child assassin who lost her mommy and daddy and her Glock-wielding big sister, I’m going to fill every goddamn pocket she has with maggots.”
“Val…” Mel said nervously, “um…if she gets therapy…well…she might not want to work for you anymore.”
Val stared at her for a bit before groaning loudly in irritation. Fuck this. Fuck her life. First investigations against her, and then she’d have to listen to Yelena fucking Belova of all people.
“Fine! Dammit! Put her on speaker. God, I don’t have time for her shit…”
Mel scrambled for the answer button. Agent Belova’s infuriatingly smug Russian voice filled the compound.
“Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.”
“Don’t say my full name like that. It sounds…creepy.”
”Apologies.”
“Cut the crap, Belova. What is it now?”
“I saw your adverts.”
“For?”
“For medical testing? To make yourself better by helping others. At least, that’s what it said on the poster.”
Val fell silent and exchanged a nervous glance with Mel.
Oh. Shit.
“It sounds like a nice opportunity. Very moving.”
“You…” Val gulped. “You want to take part in the medical testing?”
“Why not? I’m always looking to help others. You know that.”
“This is a serious study, Belova.”
“I can be serious.”
“That does not inspire confidence.”
“Look, just tell me where to go, and I’ll be there, okay?”
Val looked at Mel again, who looked positively terrified.
But then again, she always looked like that.
And they were struggling to find participants for that last round.
And, of course, there was the survival rate. A bright idea popped into her head.
“Fine, Belova. You win. Come back here to sign some paperwork, and you’ll take part in the study.”
—
“This is a really bad idea,” Mel hissed at her as they walked to the door.
“Yes, Mel, I’m not an idiot.” She glared at her nervous assistant. “You were the one that suggested using ‘Make Yourself Better’ as a campaign. Now look. We have a nutcase with a gun trying out for it.”
Mel waved her hands wildly. “We had to put that in! It was marketing! What was I supposed to put, ‘Take Part In A Medical Study That Can Kill You’?!”
Val glared at her. “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m your boss, not your friend.”
Mel’s face seemed to crumple.
“I know that,” she mumbled. “Sorry.”
“Give me updates on Belova’s location.”
“Yes ma’am. Hang on…just need to…find the tracker app…”
“No need for that.”
Both of them whirled around to see Agent Yelena Belova, who had her arms crossed over her black tracksuit.
“I didn’t know I had a tracker. Is that part of my contract?”
“Well, Belova, if you followed directions, I wouldn’t have to put a tracker on you.”
“Hmm.” The assassin glanced around. “Is this where the testing will be? It looks small.”
Val ignored her rising annoyance. “No. We have a lab in Malaysia. You’ll be transferred there.”
“Malaysia?”
“Did you really need to repeat that? I mean, really. Ask yourself that.”
Belova huffed. “Fine, I’ll go to Malaysia. Where’s the nearest quinjet?”
“Wait. First, you have to sign here. It’s a waiver.” Val handed her a paper. She was a firm believer of always locking people down with contracts whenever she could. Especially in her line of work. And especially concerning the nature of the study.
Belova squinted at it. “Wait. Hold on. What will this do to me? I don’t want to be…experimented on.”
Val and Mel exchanged glances.
Then Val looked right back into Belova’s eyes and smiled. “Nothing. We’ll just have to take some of your blood. That’s it. Just to further benefit science. Don’t worry, it’s completely safe.”
Belova held her gaze for a long moment before signing her name.
“There we go.” Val took the paper from her. “Go three doors down, and you’ll find the hangar. Tell one of the pilots you’re there for the medical testing in Malaysia.”
Belova nodded and left. Mel noisily let out the breath she’d been holding and looked like she wanted to pass out.
“Oh my god, oh my god, we’re going to give the ex-Black Widow superpowers, and she doesn’t even know it—!”
“Relax, Mel.”
“How can I relax?!”
“Think about it. No one else has survived the procedure. Send her to Malaysia…”
It finally dawned on Mel. “…And we’re sending her to her grave…”
“No more Belova. No more wild card. No more threat that she’s going to tattletale on Oxcorp. She’s disposing of herself, so we don’t have to.”
“Oh my god. But wouldn’t it be easier if we just…”
“Took care of her ourselves? That would be messy, and she might try to fight back. God knows we don’t have time for that. But this? This is a plan, Mel. A completely foolproof plan.”
“Completely foolproof?”
“Totally foolproof. Trust me. The serum’s faulty. No one’s surviving that. Especially not a normal, non-superpowered shadow-ops agent.”
Mel relented. “I’ll tell Malaysia that they’re getting one more participant for the last round.”
“See. It’s perfect. Say goodbye to the pain in Oxcorp’s ass.” Val grinned at her and held up her coffee. “Cheers.”
Chapter 2: Val’s Avenger
Notes:
Sorry for typos! I’m in the middle of traveling and typing this on my phone!
Enjoy :)
(EDIT, June 28th: Made a mistake with Yelena’s eye color; changed it from brown to green)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Mel, give me status reports on the last round.”
Mel sped after Val, tripping over her feet and squinting at her precious tablet.
“Well, most participants have gone through radiation…”
“Any survivors?” Val asked, knowing full well what the answer was.
“…No.”
“What about the…special patient?”
“Set to go in twenty minutes. She’s been slipped the serum discreetly so as to not alarm her, and she’s been drugged to go through radiation nicely.”
“They used the same serum on her?”
“Yes.”
“Same exact serum? The fatal one?”
“The whole formula is fatal, Val.”
Val sighed in relief. “Good. Let’s go.”
Mel looked alarmed. “Go where?”
“Mel, I want to see her die. I want to make sure the evidence is gone. Okay?”
“You said the plan was foolproof!”
“I know I did! But just to make sure it is, let’s go see it.”
“I’m having second thoughts,” Mel muttered as she ran to follow her again.
“You were having second thoughts five thoughts ago. Besides, I’m the one that’s making the decisions. If I tell you you’re coming with me, you’re coming with me. We might need that fancy tablet of yours.”
Mel grumbled all the way to the laboratory.
—
“Why do we have to wait outside for an extra minute?” Val grumbled to Mel. They had been unceremoniously thrust out of the lab for a “quick once-over of the participant”.
“It’s standard procedure, ma’am.”
“Fuck the procedures, I need her dead.”
“Val…you put the procedures there.”
Val hissed, “Don’t piss me off.”
“Sorry, ma’am.”
The lead doctor, who already looked at the end of her rope, poked her head out. “Ms. de Fontaine, we’re ready.”
“Finally,” Val complained, pushing past her. “Someone needs to crack down on unneeded checkups.”
They walked out to a viewing area and control room, fitted with glass and controls for the lab, allowing the scientists to monitor the experiments from a safe distance. As buttons on the panels flashed, scientists in white lab coats and loose scrubs milled around like agitated beetles—flipping switches, pushing random buttons, and generally behaving like they didn’t know what the hell they were doing.
Which was perfect. The more inexperienced the scientist, the higher the chance of the experiment failing.
If the experiment failed, would that make it a success, if the goal was to fail? Would that make a success a failure?
Val was interrupted by her musings when the interior doors burst open, and two scientists fitted with radioactive gear dragged a heavily drugged and unresponsive Belova into the lab room.
She looked terrible. Her blonde hair was messy and limp, there were bags under her glazed green eyes, and something that looked suspiciously like bruises on her face. She looked worn, tired, wearing gray hospital scrubs that hung off her frame.
But still, for someone who had their blood pumped out and serum pumped in for a week, she looked surprisingly well. Not half-dead like Val had hoped. She narrowed her eyes.
“She fought us,” said the lead doctor nervously, glancing over at her, “while we were trying to get her here. That’s why she’s bruised…and why we had to drug her.”
Wait, did the doctor think she was frowning because she was worried about Belova? Val waved it away. “Oh, I don’t care about that.”
The doctor relaxed visibly. “Okay then.” Then she walked over to a button on the wall next to a speaker. Clearing her throat, she pressed the button and called out, “All good in there?”
Clear as sunshine—they must’ve had earpieces under those masks—the scientists with Belova replied through the speaker, “All good.”
“Great. Bring out the container.”
“Container?” Mel asked.
In reply, another pair of scientists wheeled out a large human-shaped box thing with a few machines hooked up to it.
“It looks like a coffin,” said one intern nervously.
“That’s what the participant is going into,” the lead doctor explained while flipping a few switches. “It sends radiation directly into her body while shielding us from the worst of it. It works like the old super soldier machine from the 40s.”
“The one that made Captain America?” The intern asked.
“Yes.”
But we’re not making a Captain America, thought Val grimly, We’re making a nice crispy corpse.
The container opened, revealing a lit and cushioned interior. The scientists managed to fold Belova, who was clearly dead to the world, into the box and closed it quickly. Instantly, the screens attached began to display different diagrams.
“Vitals look good,” the lead doctor said.
Not for long, hopefully.
“Okay, clear the room.”
The scientists obediently filed out.
“Beginning radiation in three…”
This is it.
“…Two…”
Val huddled against the glass, wanting to be as close as possible to the evidence’s demise. Where should she bury her? Russia? Nah, better to incinerate her with the rest. More satisfying, too.
“…One.”
The lead doctor pushed up a lever with one final, definite motion.
They heard a whirring noise while a new diagram shared space on the screen with Belova’s heart monitor—a bar indicating the progress of the experiment.
As the bar filled, the container began to shake slightly. With a small shiver, Val realized she could just hear faint muffled screaming. Maybe Belova wasn’t as high as the moon after all.
At least it’s not messy.
Belova’s heart rate began to spike.
“Stop it! Stop the experiment!” The lead doctor rushed for the lever, but Val leapt in front of it.
“No!” Val yelled. “Anyone who touches this lever before the experiment is over is getting fired!”
“She’s going to die!” The lead doctor’s eyes narrowed. “You want her to?”
“I want my Sentry, and damn if the agent dies!” She pointed at the intern, making him jump. “You! I said stay back!”
“This is unethical!” The lead doctor yelled as the lights began to flicker on and off.
Val laughed viciously. “What, you didn’t get that from all the other human experimentations?”
The doctor quietly said, “I quit.”
Val gestured to the door. “That’s the way out.”
As the doctor left, Mel whispered to Val, “Aren’t you worried she’s going to tell someone?”
But Val only smiled.
“I have someone already dialed for cleanup. She won’t be a problem.”
Mel paled.
Suddenly, Belova’s heart rate flatlined with a rapid beeping noise, and the power cut out.
Huddled together in the dark, the scientists, Val, and Mel stayed quiet for a long time.
“She’s dead,” said one scientist finally. “Isn’t she dead?”
“Flashlights, flashlights,” another called. Twenty dim beams of light turned on at once, all trained on the container on the other side of the glass. Even all together, they barely illuminated the space.
“Yelena Belova, time of death, 6:35,” the first scientist said. “Someone write that down.”
Mel began to click on the tablet, and Val let out the breath she wasn’t even aware she was holding.
“Move the body to the dumpster lab,” she ordered, trying very hard not to show her smile, because that would probably be unprofessional and quite suspicious.
“Wait!” The intern’s hand was shaking, making his beam quiver. “Did something move? I think I saw something move.”
“What?” Val whipped around to the radiation room.
Sure enough, the machine containing the dead body of Yelena Belova shook slightly again.
“Oh, shit.” Val pressed her hands onto the glass as Mel gasped in terror.
They all froze, silent. Maybe they were just imagining things. That wasn’t possible. She had died. They saw it. The serum was faulty, and the radiation lethal. It was the perfect assassination plot. The perfect, foolproof plan.
But no, the container shook again, this time visibly enough that it left no doubt it had moved. And then came the noise.
Thump.
Thump.
“Oh my god,” Mel whispered. “It sounds like…fists. Pummeling the interior.”
“No, no, no.” Val’s heart sank. This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening.
Then, slowly, with a terrible creaking noise, the lid of the machine opened.
The flashlights bathed the human shape rising out in feeble light.
Suddenly, eyes glowing with a bright, searing golden light flew open and faced the quivering onlookers.
Beside her, Val felt a scientist fall to his knees. “Oh God. It worked. It actually worked.”
“Val…” Mel peeped, “…I think we just gave a serial killer magic powers…”
Oh fuck.
The Sentry slowly stalked towards the glass.
“Valentina…”
Even without the earpiece, Yelena’s voice rang out as though she stood in the control room, making everyone jump. Her tone was tightly controlled fury, even slightly sing-songy, scarier than if she had screamed at them.
The Sentry stopped at the glass.
“I told you not to do anything to me, Valentina…”
Val gulped and slowly pressed the microphone button with a trembling finger.
“…Well, the posters did say to make yourself better.”
“This isn’t better, Valentina. This is worse.”
“You did sign the waiver—”
Suddenly the Sentry punched the glass. And that glass—that special, extremely expensive, safely reinforced glass—shattered completely like thin, cheap stuff. Mel let out a strangled shriek. There was nothing standing in between the regular people and the terribly pissed-off superhuman now.
The Sentry stepped into the control room.
“You lied to me.”
Val pressed herself against the wall but couldn’t risk jabbing at her. “Next time, read the fine print.”
The Sentry snarled and grabbed her throat.
Val choked, her fingers scrabbling at the Sentry’s iron grip. Her brain went fuzzy from fear and lack of oxygen. Clearly, her poor windpipe was being completely crushed.
“SOMEONE SEDATE HER!” Mel shrieked, completely losing her head.
Ten scientists, armed with very small and fragile-looking hypodermic needles, rushed to the Sentry and injected their (hopefully) sedatives into her all at once. The Sentry released Val, who crumpled to the floor. Roaring, the golden guardian of pure fucking terror lashed out at the scientists.
But then her glowing golden eyes lost their fire before they rolled back in her head and closed.
The Sentry fell to the ground beside Val.
Above her, Val heard the scientists yell about the medical bay and Mel gibbering loudly before she blacked out completely.
—
Mel had never seen her boss so vulnerable.
Hovering by Val’s hospital bed, she replayed, over and over, what had happened earlier. The flatlining. How Yelena Belova rose from the coffin-shaped machine like a fucking zombie. The glass—her precious safety glass!—being shattered.
How her boss nearly got strangled to death.
And now look at her. Confined to a hospital bed with a neck brace. She wasn’t supposed to talk, but at least she was conscious. At least she was alive.
Maybe she didn’t agree with the whole tricking-Belova-into-becoming-a-living-nuke-thing, maybe she even agreed with the doctor when she said it was unethical, but she didn’t want Val to die.
Mel said, “What are we going to do about…about the Sentry problem?”
Val began to scribble furiously in a notepad on the side table.
She’s too dangerous now. We can’t even kill her. We fucked up.
Mel gulped. “Oh my god, we’re all gonna die…”
But then Val replied with something Mel never expected.
She’s already blonde. I wonder how she’d look in the original suit
“Wait. You want to make her…the Sentry? Like…the Sentry Sentry?! The face of Oxcorp?!”
Well, we’d have to make some adjustments to the suit, of course. She’s short, and we were planning for a guy. But it can work.
“Val, this is another very bad idea!”
What are we supposed to do about her? She’s
Val had run out of space. Glaring, she ripped the page out of the notepad. Mel narrowly dodged a wadded-up piece of paper. Val quickly rewrote what she was trying to say and shoved it into Mel’s face.
She’s too dangerous to put on cleanup again, and she’s impossible to kill. Besides, we spent so much money on Project Sentry. Only fair we get our money’s worth
“But Val! She nearly killed you! She needs therapy, not to represent us!”
I AM THE BOSS. IF I SAY SHE’S OUR SENTRY, THEN WE’RE GOING TO MAKE YELENA BELOVA OUR FUCKING SENTRY.
She’s my Avenger. I spent money on her. So by god, even if I have to mind control her, she’ll play Avenger.
“Val…”
Val glared at her, which shut her up real quickly.
“I’ll go get the plans for the suit.”
She was about to leave, but then stopped.
“Val, what happened to the doctor?”
Val stared at her, evidently confused.
“The lead doctor for Project Sentry. The one that quit. What happened to her?”
Val calmly wrote her answer.
US Agent does his job very well.
Mel quietly nodded and left the room.
—
Pain.
“Lena!”
Confusion.
“Natasha!”
And a new feeling.
“Lena, are you okay?”
An enthralling feeling.
“Natasha?”
The energy of a million exploding suns running through her veins.
“Natasha, where are you?”
—
Yelena woke up in a hospital bed with absolutely no idea what she had done to get there.
She shook her head, groaning. She had a pounding headache and her memory was fuzzy at best. What had she been doing in the last…what? Hour? Day? Week?
She tried to sit up, but then she realized she was restrained to the bed. Thick metal cuffs bolted her wrists and ankles to the bed frame.
What the hell happened?
She tried to wiggle out, and, when that failed, she grit her teeth to tamp down her rapidly rising panic. There must be a misunderstanding. Either that, or she had been captured by someone. No, this was an Oxcorp infirmary; she could see the logo. What was happening? Should she call for help?
Right as she was opening her mouth, the door slowly creaked open. Mel the assistant shuffled in awkwardly, pushing someone in a wheelchair…
…Was that Val? With a neck brace? What was going on?
Maybe I’m high, Yelena thought, bewildered.
“Hello, Agent Belova,” Mel squeaked, as though she was talking to a rabid animal. “I’m Valentina Allegra de Fontaine’s assistant. My name is Mel. Nice to meet you.”
“Mel…” Yelena croaked, nonplussed, “…I…I already know who you are. I’ve worked with you for over three years.”
“Great. Right. Sorry. Um.” Mel cleared her throat. “Well, I’m here as a sort of translator for Val. She’s not supposed to talk, you know with her…neck injury. A really surprising one. We have no idea what happened.”
Val rolled her eyes.
“Right,” Yelena replied slowly, seriously doubting Mel’s sanity. “Why am I restrained to a hospital bed?”
“Well, you see…” Mel looked at Val for help.
Val rolled her eyes again and began to scribble on a scrap of paper. Mel took it and squinted at the words.
“‘You were…on a mission. And you got hit by’…radiation? Yeah, um, sorry. ‘Radiation.’”
“Okay…sure. And how am I not dead, then? If I got hit by radiation?”
“Er…”
Val scratched out another note.
“‘The…radiation…awoke…latent’…I’m sorry, what does this say?” Mel pointed at the note. Val threw the pen across the room, nearly clipping Yelena in the ear.
Yelena rolled her eyes. This was going to take forever.
“Ohhhhhh…okay…sorry, so sorry, Val. Um…Where were we?”
“Mission, radiation, restrained to a bed,” Yelena called out loudly, staring at the blindingly white ceiling. How did they get it so pristine? It was an effort to even reheat last night’s dinner for her…
“Agent…Agent Belova…are you listening?”
“What? Sorry.” She craned her neck to look at them, still huddled in the doorway as though she had a plague. “It’s…hard to see you.”
“Oh. Right.” Mel mashed a button on the wall, making her hospital bed shoot up and nearly giving her whiplash. “So. Right. Radiation.”
“Radiation,” Yelena repeated, irritated now. “Can you just…skip to the important part?”
“Right. Um. Yeah. So, uh…the radiation…messed with your cells. Congratulations. You, uh…you have…superpowers!” Mel waved her hands around, causing Val to try to faceplant, and halfheartedly added, “…Yay…!”
“Huh?”
“You…you have…Did you space out again?”
“Okay. Sure. Uh…” Yelena began to writhe around in her restraints again. “You both are insane. I’m just…gonna go…”
Val began to write furiously with a replacement pen and held it up to Mel to read.
“No. Wait. Here. ‘We’re going to’…Hold on, this is not a good idea, Val!”
Val shoved her in the arm.
“Fine! Fine! Okay. Uh…I’m going to undo one restraint.”
“You still haven’t even told me why I’m restrained yet—”
“And then you’re going to try to crumple this soda can here.”
Yelena squinted at her. “Soda can?”
“Intern. Uhhh…” Mel tiptoed to Yelena and brought out a weird button thing that looked like a key fob. She sighed, screwed her eyes closed, and pressed the button.
The right wrist restraint fell off with a beep.
Mel carefully placed a soda can in front of her. “Crush it.”
Yelena stared at her. “But this is dumb.”
“Please, Agent Belova. Just try to crush the can.”
“If you want me to crush a can, you’ll have to bring it closer. I can’t reach that far…”
“No, not with your hand. With your…mind.”
Yelena was about to refuse, but then sighed. There was no point otherwise. All she had to do was contort her face and pretend to try. And then nothing would happen. And then she would be able to go home. Where she could curl up in a corner and open another bottle, but hell, it was much better than being locked in a hospital room with her deranged boss and an insane assistant.
So she rolled her eyes and extended her hand towards the can.
But strangely, there felt like something was nagging at the back of her mind. She frowned, trying to focus on it. There was something there? What was it? The nagging feeling grew more intense…
Suddenly, it felt like an electric shock surged through her body.
And the soda can was crushed by nothing.
Mel let out a little squeak.
“What was that?” Yelena asked, looking up at her.
“That was you, Agent Belova…”
“No, that’s…” She shook her head, trying to clear it again. “How did I do that?”
“We told you. Radiation. On a mission.” Mel handed her a wad of papers. They were official-looking, filled with diagrams of a shining woman in a golden costume. “That’s you. Or at least…you could be.”
Yelena squinted at it.
“The Sentry. ‘Golden Guardian of Good’?”
“You wanna be better?”
“…Yeah…”
“A hero, even?”
Did she?
No more fighting. No more killing. No more drinking? Or loneliness? Or emptiness? Just…a fancy costume and a catchy nickname? To have people look up to her. To love her. To be like her sister…
Was that what she wanted?
Without really thinking, Yelena answered, “Yes.”
Mel tapped the paper. “Then welcome to the team, Sentry.”
Notes:
Fuck Val. Also, someone needs to start listening to Mel…
Chapter 3: Cleanup Crew
Notes:
Thank you so much, everyone, who has read this so far! Please remember to leave kudos, because it encourages more readers to check this fic out! Also, subscribe for updates if you haven’t already! I love you guys ❤️
I live to sully John Walker’s name :D
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Three Months Later
John Walker was proud to say he was Val’s very best shadow-ops agent. Better than best, really.
Of course, he would never phrase it like that.
He was far too humble.
The most humble, in fact.
But if anyone saw his track record, obviously they would have no choice to admit he was the very top of shadow-ops agents for Ms. de Fontaine. He had taken out so many of her enemies. Destroyed so much incriminating evidence. It was proof that he was every bit as special and important as he saw himself. No matter what anyone said to him. If he wasn’t, why would Val trust him so much?
So when Val called him to say she needed some trash taken out, he took it as further proof of his high status. Just like that doctor lady.
“John Walker.”
“Hey, Val. Need anything?”
“You’re my trash guy. So take out some trash. I need a lab in ashes. Completely destroyed. I’ve sent coordinates. No snooping.”
Why would he ever snoop? Were people snooping on Val? Were they going to be a job for him?
“No prob, Val.” He puffed out his chest, even though he knew she would never see it. “Consider it done.”
“Go exactly at 1 pm. No earlier. Don’t mess up.”
“When have I ever messed up?” John asked seriously.
“…Your whole one-week power trip as Captain America, for starters. Do you want me to name more?”
“Okay, I’m on it right now, Val,” he said loudly over her before hanging up.
With that out of the way, he donned his suit. His beautiful helmet. His shining shield of brilliance.
And he went to take out some trash.
—
Ava Starr was nothing if not realistic.
Not pessimistic.
Realistic.
She knew, logically, that she was one of many shadow-ops agents under Val. Maybe she wasn’t even the best one, with all the rumors of red-ledgered assassins and super soldiers under her command. Against all that, she was just one girl with phasing abilities and chronic pain.
But she still had her uses, obviously. Or else she couldn’t be on the cleanup crew—she would be the one being cleaned up.
Thoughts like that really put her troubles into perspective.
And she wasn’t nearly delusional enough to think she was some great hero who was honorably killing people for Val. No, she knew well that she was another killer that worked for a corrupt company. She wasn’t there to save people, she was there to put bullets in their heads.
Perspective.
So when she got the call from Val, she readied herself for action.
“Ava Starr.”
Immediately, Ava (who prided herself on one thing—her perception) clocked her tone. Tired. Irritated. It brought to mind a parent who had to put up with an unruly child for a very long day.
But Val didn’t have any kids. Or even younger relatives.
So what could possibly be making her sound like that?
“Yes, Val?”
“There’s only one reason why I call you.”
“Oh, yes. Cleanup on aisle one?”
I’ve sent the coordinates. You’re there to collect three forms, with some statistics on them, you’ll know them when you see them—and those three forms ONLY. Clock in at 12. I need you out by 1 pm. Got it?”
“Of course, Val.”
“Please don’t mess this up.”
“When have I ever messed up?” Ava joked.
Val couldn’t think of an answer.
Another thing Ava begrudgingly admitted she prided herself on (but only a bit, because she absolutely loathed braggarts)—she was very good at her job.
—
Yes, Val had said to go no earlier than 1.
But Walker also knew that she would probably commend his responsiveness, let’s be honest, if he went earlier. Only, like, 30 minutes earlier anyway.
So he got there at 12:30 pm.
—
Ava was most certainly not done by 12:30 pm.
For starters, the lab was huge. With a million forms everywhere—everything from contracts to diagrams to silly little drawings of people in golden suits. It was less a lab and more…a dumpster.
Was that a coffin?
Ah, never mind.
She was there for statistics. And statistics only, apparently. Ava wasn’t going to waste her time trying to theorize why in the world Val needed those. Maybe for some sort of statement. It didn’t matter to her.
Ava bent down and began to rifle rapidly through a stack of papers. Not a single one had numbers of any sort on them. There were only explanations of human anatomy. Damnit. Another dead end.
Her time was really running out.
“Hey!”
She twisted around and phased away.
—
Breathing heavily, John peered around the lab.
Where did she go?
Clearly she was some sort of intruder—which meant she must be an extra bonus for cleanup duty. He wasn’t about to lose his high standing with Val just because some random girl broke into Val’s lab.
He would take out the target, burn the place down, and Val would have no choice but to commend her shining hero.
And he would be perfect.
Completely and utterly perfect.
Suddenly, he was hit hard on the head by a blow from behind.
—
That was easy.
Ava stood above the prone guy in a fancy military costume and dropped the brick.
She silently laughed at him. It took less than a minute to take him out. Crazy. Usually, she’d have to phase around a bit before it was over.
She could shoot him now. But first, she wanted answers on why he was clearly trying to steal from Val’s lab.
So she set to work on tying him up—
He grunted, turned over, and punched her in the stomach.
She went flying across the lab. Ava smacked into a wall from behind and heard a loud CRACK.
Fuck, her arm.
At least it wasn’t her spine.
She fell to the floor and quickly got back to her feet, huffing a bit from the pain. Cradling her right arm to her chest, she clumsily dug out her gun with her left.
Yeah, okay, fuck this guy. Shoot him it is.
She aimed at him, pulled the trigger—and missed.
Damnit. She couldn’t have broken the left arm, noooo, she had to have hit the right one. Her fucking life.
The super soldier—he must have been, with a hit like that—leapt at her and threw her to the floor. Bearing down on her like some feral animal, he lifted his shield over her head and brought it down with a quick, heavy motion.
She phased away, just in time, reappearing on her feet on the other side of the lab.
The guy yelled and threw the shield like an enormous frisbee at her, landing in the wall a foot above her.
Who did he think he was? Captain America?
She phased right in front of him and took out her gun again, but he picked her up with one arm and bodily threw her away like a sack of potatoes.
She landed on her chest. Laying there for a moment, she quickly assessed damages.
One broken arm—right one.
Three or four broken ribs.
Maybe a cracked tooth.
She slowly struggled to her feet again, wobbling, using her left arm for balance. Spitting out some blood, she cried out, “Who the hell even are you?”
“US Agent!” He yelled back. “Here to eliminate you!”
“Why are you trying to kill me?!”
“Val told me to! You know. Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.”
“Yeah, I know her full name, fucker,” she bit out, “seeing as she’s my employer!”
Wait a minute.
“That can’t be true! Because she’s mine!” He ran over to his stupid shield in the wall, wrenched it out of the metal, and prepared to throw it at her again.
“Hold on! Wait! Wait!” She held out her left hand as a show of peace. “Hang on. Don’t throw the shield. Something’s going on.”
He snarled at her, but slowly lowered the shield. “What?”
“Have you done shadow work for Val?”
“Yeah.”
“She sent you to this lab.”
“Yeah…”
“Why?”
He frowned. “To destroy it.”
“Right. And she sent me,” Ava continued, gesturing to herself with her left hand, “to pick up some forms. When were you supposed to come?”
“At…at 1 pm.”
“I was supposed to be out by 1 pm, no later.”
He stared at her for a moment in confusion. “We weren’t…we weren’t supposed to see each other,” he finally realized.
“Yeah. Now, why would she send you?”
He puffed out his chest like an arrogant pidgeon and proudly proclaimed, “Well, sweetie, only because I’m her very best agent.”
She instantly despised the guy, but forced herself to keep her cool. “Okay, fine then. Let’s say you are. Why didn’t she send you to collect the forms and torch the place? Why did she send two people?”
Other than the fact that you’re a complete idiot.
He frowned again, as if thinking deeply. “…I don’t know. Why?”
“Because,” Ava explained, keeping most of her irritation out of her voice, “she doesn’t want us to know too much. One of us knows about the forms. The other knows about the lab being destroyed. It limits the danger we are to her. Get it?”
Slowly, painfully, it dawned on him. “Oh my God…it makes sense.”
She rolled her eyes. “Good job.”
He sighed. “Fine. I won’t kill you.”
“Good.” She held out her hand. “I’m Ava Starr.”
After hesitating, he shook it. “…I’m John Walker.”
Ohhh, right, the fake Captain America. No wonder he’s such an asshole.
“Great. Help me around here.”
“Huh?”
“She’s keeping something important from us. I want to know what it is.”
“Wait. You want to snoop?”
“You already messed up her plan, Walker, and you’re concerned about snooping?”
“Only traitors snoop,” he muttered, but followed her.
—
Thirty minutes later, no information could be found.
“Damnit. What do they look like again?”
“What does what look like?”
“The thing we’re trying to find.”
“Information? Use your eyes.”
“I thought we were looking for forms!”
“I was, before you—” Suddenly, the girl—Ava—cut off.
John looked over. “What is it? What’d you find?”
“Walker, come over here.”
John slowly walked over to where she knelt, awkwardly flipping through a stack of papers.
She looked up at him. “Read them. It’s difficult for me, with my…injuries.”
Right. The broken arm. And maybe something with her chest. He supposed he felt a bit bad about it. He scooped up the stack, cleared his throat, and began to read.
“‘Project Sentry—Top Secret’.”
“Look who sent it here.”
He peered at the name. “Mel?”
“I’d bet good money she wasn’t supposed to,” Ava muttered. “And I’d also bet that she knew we were coming here…”
He had no idea what she was talking about, so he continued reading.
“Entry—Day 1. 9:00 pm. Test subject is responding well to training. Permission was given to wean her off sedatives.
“Entry—Day 2. 9:30 pm. Test subject has behaved favorably towards handlers.
“Entry—Day 3. 5:46 pm. Test subject has expressed disobedience towards trainers. Permission for continued administration of sedatives requested.”
He stopped and glanced at Ava. “It sounds like they’re training a dog or something.”
“Look at the picture, towards the bottom, Walker,” Ava replied quietly.
He peered at the grainy photo and felt his stomach drop. “It’s a person. They’re experimenting on a person.”
“I know. Dirty secrets, huh?”
“Why would they do that?”
In response, Ava held up a flyer bearing a golden S logo and the words, THE SENTRY—GOLDEN GUARDIAN OF GOOD. LIVING NUCLEAR MISSILE. EARTH’S MIGHTIEST HERO. STRONGER THAN EVERY AVENGER COMBINED.
John shivered without meaning to. “They want to turn her into a living nuke. They’re weaponizing someone.”
“It gets worse. Keep on reading.”
John skimmed the pages.
Entry, Day 5. 4:00 PM. Test subject has behaved unfavorably towards trainers. Permission for continued administration of sedatives requested.
Entry, Day 8. 12:16 AM. Test subject has lashed out. Administration of sedatives needed.
Entry, Day 12. 6:00 AM. Level 5 Emergency. Security dispatched immediately.
“Something bad happened. Really bad.”
“Look what Val did. Entry 13.”
He found it immediately.
Entry, Day 13. 7:00 AM. Test subject now under hypnosis treatment. Sedatives administered. Test subject has responded favorably to control.
John looked down at Ava in horror. “They’ve mind-controlled it. They’ve made the most dangerous weapon to ever exist, and Val’s trying to keep it under her thumb.”
“Not it. Her. She’s a person. They’ve done this to a person.” Ava wobbled to her feet and handed him an extra file. “And look who it happens to be.”
He took it and read it.
“The little sister of Natasha Romanoff?”
Ava nodded. “Think about it, Walker. Val’s been facing renewed scrutiny, as I think you know, because we’ve both gotten missions to clean up her shit. So what does she do? The Avengers are gone, save Captain America, who was involved in the shit show that was whatever happened with the White House. So Val brings out the ‘Golden Guardian of Good’, her shiny new Super-Avenger, who can protect earth from anything, and what’s more—she’s part of the government now, too, because of Val. You were the US’s version of Captain America, Walker—you know how it is to be a government-sanctioned superhero. Not only that, but this Super-Avenger is the younger sister of a fallen hero, who’s ready to continue on her sister’s legacy, yada yada. Thus, her superhero has public favor and government favor. And now look at that. Val is now virtually unstoppable. Try to go against her, and she’ll sic her living nuke on you.”
“The perfect plan.”
“Yeah.”
John began to pace back and forth. “But what can we do about it?”
“There were rumors that Val was going to unveil something big at her little party thing tomorrow,” Ava mused. “I guess now we know what that is.”
“Are you seriously suggesting—?”
“Walker, we have to stop Val. This is serious. All we have to do is break into Val’s party, convince the Sentry to leave her, and expose her.”
“Yeah. That sounds like a perfect idea. All we have to do is break into Valentina Allegra de Fontaine’s party, steal her mind-controlled super-nuke, and get out without anyone dying, combusting, or getting arrested. And then, we have to get her arrested, all without revealing we’re actually murderers ourselves. Oh, yeah, sure. That sounds easy.”
Ava stalked towards him. “I never said it would be easy, Walker. But we have to do it.”
“Why? She gave us jobs! We’d lose them if we betrayed—”
“What do you think’s going to happen when Val takes over?! We’re more evidence, you idiot! Can’t you understand?! It isn’t betrayal! It’s saving our asses!”
John’s eyes widened as it hit him. “God, you’re right.”
“I know I’m right!”
“So, how are we going to break into this party?”
Suddenly, Ava began to smile in a way that made his blood chill.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a suit, would you?
Notes:
Up next…
…the moment you have all been waiting for…
…Congressman Barnes? Is that you?
Chapter 4: Grand Entrance
Notes:
Parties!
Congress!
Murder?(As you can see, there will be violence in this chapter. Little warning.)
(P.S. I did realize I’ve been spelling O.X.E. Corp wrong all this time. Ah, well. I’ve corrected it in this chapter and onwards!)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Mel!”
Mel snapped up from her tablet, where she was absentmindedly doodling the Sentry symbol. What happened? Did Val find out about how she sent the entries to the dumpster lab for the cleanup crew to find?
She had done it because she was scared of Val. Of what she could become, with the power of the mind-controlled Sentry on her side.
But Val certainly wouldn’t see it that way.
“Mel!” Val snapped her fingers in Mel’s face. “Were you even listening?”
“No, sorry, ma’am.”
“I was asking if you heard anything about the files I sent Starr after.”
“Yes, uh…” She checked her messages. “Starr said she couldn’t find them.”
“Goddamnit!” Val slammed her fist onto the coffee table. “I needed those for my speech tonight. I mean, do you know off the top of your head how much raw force it takes to stop the average alien spacecraft?”
“Uh…no, Val.”
“Me neither!” Val sighed. “I guess I’ll just have to make do without any logic to back me up. Play on the audience’s sympathies to the dead Avengers. It can work. It can work. How’s the suit looking?”
“…Very yellow?”
“Is it done?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” Val stood up from the couch and looked around at the workers milling about them.
“At least renovations are going well, it looks like.”
Mel nodded. She knew Val wanted the new place to look good for the cameras.
It had taken a lot of money, after all, to buy the old Avengers Tower.
—
Yelena’s hand shook, and the glass of water tipped over and spilled.
She grit her teeth. Try again.
I can’t do this, she argued with herself.
You have to.
She ignored herself, picked up the glass, and flopped onto the thin mattress with a loud sigh.
It had been three months since she became the Sentry. Three months where, it seemed, she accomplished absolutely nothing. Maybe it was just her strangely foggy memory, though. Maybe she wasn’t actually sitting around in a containment cell being a waste of space.
“Sentry!”
She leapt to her feet at the sight of Val, who looked like the human version of a wrung-out sponge.
“Sentry, I—Why is there water on the floor?”
“Practicing,” Yelena mumbled, refusing to meet her eyes.
“Hmmph. Did you eat dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then I have a surprise for you. You’re invited to my party.”
“Your…What?”
“My party. Technically, it's to unveil you. My knight in shining golden armor. So don’t mess it up.”
“But I’m…I’m not very good at parties.”
“How old were you, when you went to your latest social gathering?”
“Six.”
“Jesus Christ, woman. Get out more. This’ll be good for you, then. Damn.”
She shifted uncomfortably. “What if something goes wrong?”
“Well, dear, control your temper, and then we won’t have another one of your little…tantrums.”
Tantrums. Little tantrums. Yelena’s mind was always especially blurry when she had some outbursts during her training, but she remembered enough to know that they probably weren’t good.
“Great. I’m glad you’re at least being compliant.” Val opened the door and tossed something yellow into Yelena’s room. “Wear this.”
Yelena slowly crossed the length of the room and hesitantly held up the yellow-and-navy suit like it was radioactive.
“This?” She gasped, not even trying to hide her disgust.
“Try to control your excitement,” Val deadpanned. She turned to leave, but not before closing and locking the door.
“And wear the damn suit.”
—
Bucky Barnes hated parties.
Especially political ones.
And yes, yes, if he were to tell the public this, there would be the usual rush of people tripping over themselves to ask him, if he hated it so much, then why did he run for Congress in the first place?
That answer was easy. He wanted to do better. Every day, he looked at the news and saw people tearing things down. Men who looked like him were acting like absolute shits. They would throw the World Wars to their starving audience like some sort of “own” on people who weren’t on their side. And Bucky, who fought in one, would see all this while his blood boiled.
He wanted someone there who wasn’t like them. Someone who would actually make a difference. Someone Steve would be proud of.
As for his hatred of parties? It was impossible to peg the reason. Certainly it started after he was captured. Maybe it was because he felt claustrophobic. Maybe he felt like he was going to snap and split someone’s skull.
Or maybe, a small yet vocal part of him believed he didn’t belong with them. The shiny politicians that smelled of money, whether new or old. And there he was, a former Hydra assassin (albeit a mind-controlled one), forcing small talk like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
So he stayed to the sidelines, sipping something out of a thin, long-stemmed glass and tried to look as uninteresting as possible.
He was simply surveying.
Not hiding.
Definitely not hiding.
“Bucky.” Congressman Gary slithered up to him and cleared his throat. “Why are you hiding? You look like you’re plotting murder.”
Damnit, his cover was blown. He resisted the urge to curse under his breath. “I’m not a fan of political parties.”
Gary chuckled. “You better become one. You’ve got a lot to learn.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched, but he replied evenly, “Maybe I do need to. You’re right.”
“Hmmm. Truth be told, I was inclined to decline the invitation. You know, with the investigation I’m helming against our host and all.”
Before the silence stretched too long, Bucky replied, “That’s logical, yes.”
Gary swished around the bloodred wine in his glass. “But I came because she said she’d be uncovering something big. Very big. And I would very much like to see what her surprise is, don’t you?”
If Bucky was being completely honest, he only went to look good in front of the other politicians, but he wasn’t about to say that, so he only replied, “Yes. It’s intriguing, to say the least.”
“And so it is.” Gary nodded to him. “At least try to act like you’re having fun.”
Bucky nodded back at him. Then he sighed, adjusted his suit, and decided to take Gary’s advice. Forcing his face into a smile, he headed into the milling mob of people.
But he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong.
Call it assassin-sense.
Or maybe just good old-fashioned instinct.
But it had never led him wrong before.
—
Staring at the mirror in the backroom, Yelena looked at her reflection and tried to remember what Val drilled into her.
I am the Sentry. I am the Golden Guardian of Good. I am the Avenger of the future. I am heroic.
I am the Sentry. I am not Yelena Belova. Yelena Belova is as good as dead.
I am the Sentry. I know what I am doing. At least, I act like it.
She sighed without really meaning to.
“Ready?”
Yelena would’ve jumped at Mel’s voice if she wasn’t used to the assistant sneaking up like that already. Even though months had passed, strangely Mel’s fear of her seemed only to have gotten worse.
Val treated her like a new toy. Mel treated her like a monster from a horror movie. What a fabulous superhero life she had.
Yelena looked back at her and slowly nodded.
Mel clutched her tablet to her chest like it was saving her life and replied, “Good. Val’s outside. She wants to walk onstage before you. I think she wants to introduce you.”
“Okay.”
“Follow me, please.”
Yelena knew exactly how to get out of the backstage room, but followed Mel anyway. As they walked, she privately regretted going on that radiation-filled mission. If people like Mel were going to treat her like a bomb that was about to go off at any minute, what was the point of superpowers?
Val was hanging around the curtain, reminding Yelena of a restless ghost. She snapped when she saw the two arrive.
“Finally. Look, I have this scripted. Mel will tell you when to come up. Then, don’t even say anything, got it? Just smile and look pretty in your fancy superhero suit.”
“Okay,” Yelena said.
“Great,” Val replied, while a man onstage announced, “And now, we welcome our host, CIA director, founder and senior board member of O.X.E. Corp, Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine!”
“Looks like I’m up,” Val whispered before ducking onstage.
The crowd politely clapped. From behind the curtain, Yelena and Mel listened to her speech.
“Hello, hello! Welcome, my friends, acquaintances, and esteemed enemies who were forced to come here by their PR managers.”
A smattering of laughter.
“But we’re not here for me,” Val continued, even though they technically were. “We’re here for the future.”
Everyone was quiet now.
“As everyone knows, the great individuals known as the Avengers used to protect us from all manner of threats. Think of the Battle of New York. The infamous Blip.”
How could we forget it, Val?
“But now, some of our symbols are dead.”
Symbols.
“The Avengers are gone.”
Yelena could almost see Val’s sly grin now.
“Well, not anymore.”
Confused, the crowd began to murmur.
“You’re up,” Mel hissed, pushing her.
Awkwardly, Yelena slowly emerged on stage.
Suddenly, twenty spotlights seemed to shine right in her eyes. Blinking away the burn, she tried to focus on the people sitting before her. She felt hyperfocused on every aspect of her appearance. The suit was suddenly too gaudy, her hair too perfect—styled as though she was a movie star and not a superhero, her expression too terrified of the hundreds of people. Cameras winked at her and her fear increased. She was trapped on the stage. The only way she could walk was to Val. So she did, trying to keep her steps steady as though she didn’t have a care of the world.
“Come here,” Val muttered to her under her breath. Her hand gripped Yelena’s arm like a vise, pulling the woman closer to her. Then she flashed a winning smile, and Yelena tried her best to do the same.
The crowd only murmured louder.
“You may be wondering,” continued Val, “who this woman is.”
The politicians all nodded. Some guy in the back even shouted out, “Yes!”
“Well then, you’re all in for a great surprise.”
Val grabbed Yelena’s hand and lifted them up into the air.
“Meet Yelena Belova, your new Avenger!”
The crowd got louder and more confused.
“What?”
“You can’t just call a random woman an Avenger!”
“It’s like the fake Captain America thing all over again.”
“Not only is this ridiculous, this is an insult to our real heroes!”
“I’m hearing some complaints,” said Val. “I don’t think you know what is going on—”
One man stood up. It took a minute for Yelena to place him—Congressman Gary, she believed. “Who even is she?”
“Good question. This woman here is the younger sister of Natasha Romanoff.”
The crowd burst into muttering again as Yelena shifted nervously.
“A former brainwashed Black Widow, before she underwent a procedure to gain superpowers.”
Wait, what?
She expected her to say at least part of the truth. How hard could it be to say she was hit by radiation while on a mission for the Red Room? Now it looked like she was some power-hungry monster.
But maybe Val had a plan. It was one tiny lie. Nothing major. Right?
“Of course, she had a falling-out with her handlers, and so she came to me.”
“What can she even do?” Another congressman yelled.
“Another great question. She is more powerful than all the Avengers combined. We call her…the Sentry. She has the power of a million exploding suns. You want proof?”
Val motioned offstage.
Mel shuffled onstage, huffing, dragging a long, thick, industrial-grade steel pylon. She dropped it at Yelena’s feet (narrowly missing her toes), nodded, and raced off again.
“Sentry,” Val commanded her, “pick it up and bend it.”
Yelena obeyed, scooping up the bar. It wasn’t nearly as heavy as it looked.
She gripped the bar in her hands and pushed the sides together.
Again, she felt that electric feeling burst through her veins, and the bar bent in half.
Feeling slightly drunk on the power, she then straightened the bar out and twisted it. With a screeching metallic noise, the bar was wrenched in half. The electric feeling bled out of her as she stared at the metal in her hands.
Whoa.
The crowd was once more quiet. Val’s face was hard to read. Was she excited? Surprised like everyone else? A mysterious third option?
The light was beginning to give her a headache, and she was starting to feel nauseous and lightheaded. She swayed a bit on her feet.
Val noticed this, narrower her eyes for a minute, then turned to face the audience again. “Give it up for your new Avenger!”
Surprisingly, the crowd stood and cheered. Yelena couldn’t guess what was going through their heads.
But she needed to get out of there.
She ducked under the curtain and was finally alone. Clearly, Mel had fled.
She stumbled to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. Panting and dripping, she stared at herself.
What a disgrace, a little dark voice spoke in her head.
Shut up.
She sighed, shook her head slowly, and left the bathroom.
“Hello there.”
She spun around. A woman was standing there, smirking in a red dress. But under the collar Yelena could just see a dark gray costume or something.
The headache got worse.
“Who…Who are you?” She asked nervously.
“I’m Ava. I’m a killer, just like you. The question is…who are you really?”
Yelena didn’t get the question. “I’m the Sentry.”
“Hmmm, no. Try that again.”
“I’m…Yelena Belova.”
“Good job.”
Yelena clenched her fists. “Why’re you here? Backstage?”
Ava tilted her head.
“Why, saving you, of course.”
“Uh…what?”
Ava stepped forward. “Miss Belova, do you know how truly fucked you are?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been brainwashed. Again, I might add.”
Yelena stepped away.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“You don’t believe me? Fine.” Ava handed her a sheaf of papers. “Happy reading.”
She glanced at the heading.
PROJECT SENTRY—TOP SECRET
“What’s this?”
“Read it.”
So Yelena did. Well, she skimmed it. But that told her all she needed to know.
Experiment.
Trick.
Dangerous.
Mind control.
Valentina’s monster.
She shook her head and dropped the files. “No. That’s not true. You…you made them up. It’s a lie.”
“Why would I lie to you?”
“I don’t know…You could be…” Yelena’s vision swam. She swayed and fell.
Ava caught her, her eyes widening.
“She drugged you.”
“What?”
“Hang on.” Ava dug out a phone. “Uh, Walker? We’ve got a bit of a situation here. Yeah, I’m backstage.”
“Who’s…?” She blinked slowly and groaned.
“Hold on. I’m getting help—”
You don’t need help, the dark part suddenly whispered.
You need vengeance. Against Val.
When she opened her eyes again, they burned gold. And the fire once more surged through her.
Ava yelped and jumped back. “What the hell?”
“Get away.” Yelena got up, picked up the files on her, and began to march through the backstage area. Val had lied to her. She lied onstage. She must’ve lied before then, too, because those documents looked like official O.X.E. crap. If she really was drugged, then it sure as hell wasn’t affecting her now.
But maybe it was a big misunderstanding. Maybe she wasn’t having all her worst nightmares come true. Maybe she wasn’t being mind-controlled again. She was just going to find Val and ask her what was going on, and then they could move past this.
Luckily, she didn’t have to look too hard. She burst into a storage room, where Val was huddled with Mel, talking in low voices. They cut off immediately after they saw her.
“Ah, Sentry,” Val said through gritted teeth, hiding something behind her back, “how nice of you to join us.”
“You lied up there.”
“Would you rather I had told them you were my hired assassin? That would get both of us into very, very big trouble.”
Yelena shook the files in her face. “What are these?”
Something that looked very much like fear crossed Val’s face. “Where did you get those?”
“A woman named Ava gave them to me.”
“Ava fucking Starr,” Val growled to herself. “I should’ve known.”
“What are they? Val, what are they?” She flipped through them. “They say that you’ve done things to me. Tricked me.”
“That’s—Don’t believe everything you read—”
“Including here.” She jabbed her finger at one section. “It says you’ve been brainwashing me. Is this true?”
“Don’t ask that question,” Val snapped.
Suddenly, her head throbbed and she nearly fell to the ground.
What was Val hiding there? Behind her back?
Using what little strength she had (something was wrong with her brain, she was sure of it), she pushed Val to the floor, knocking a little black device out of her hand.
“What’s this?” Yelena held up the thing, shaped like a small cylinder with a large button on top.
“Don’t mess with that—!”
Yelena pressed the button, and felt another dose of whatever the hell Val gave her pump through her body.
“You’ve been drugging me with this!”
“Yelena,” Val hissed, picking herself off the floor, “put that down, and let’s talk—”
Yelena closed her fist around the device and crushed it. She opened her hand, spilling the dust of the remote onto the floor.
And then suddenly, the memories flooded back.
Signing a contract.
Being forced into a machine.
Feeling O.X.E.’s radiation tearing her apart.
Strangling Val.
Realizing what happened and attacking her guards before they could sedate her. It was an attack she couldn’t quite wrap her head around.
Something to do with shadows.
She opened her eyes again and faced Val with renewed fury.
“I knew it!”
Mel made a run for it.
Val stood and faced her. She had to give the woman credit—she had guts.
“Yelena, calm down.”
“No! You lied to me!” She pushed her to the wall.
“Get off me!”
“Why did you do this? Why did you turn me into a monster?”
Suddenly, Val grinned and began to laugh in a cruel way.
“I think you know that you were already a monster, Yelena. I just helped the whole world see.”
Yelena, shaken, dropped her. Val grunted as she heaved herself up again.
“You…I’m not…”
“You aren’t?” Val’s evil smile widened. “What do you call killing under my name, then? A fun picnic?”
“You called me Avenger! You called me a hero! I trusted you!”
“You see, that was your first mistake.”
Yelena looked at her shaking hands. “You broke me.”
“You were broken long before I met you, dear. And I suspect you’ll remain broken after I’m gone.”
Yelena yelled and rushed at Val again. She picked her up and began to fly without really realizing it. Val yelped softly when her feet left the floor, but she controlled herself.
Yelena slammed her against the ceiling. “You promised me I’d be a hero. Like my sister.”
“Ah, but there’s a difference.”
“What? What’s the difference?”
“What’s the difference between you and your sister? Your sister stopped killing. But you…I guess it’s just your nature. Every fiber of your being.”
Yelena screamed and flew through the curtain into the main area.
Val chuckled. “You could never be Natasha Romanoff. Don’t bother trying.”
She threw her to the floor and suddenly became aware of the silence.
Then the screaming.
Everywhere, rich people and politicians were surging about like they were on fire, all trying to escape from the dangerous Sentry’s wrath. She hung in the air there, still in the shiny Sentry costume, trying to figure out what she should do next.
Then she got knocked out of the sky by a bullet.
She crashed into several tables, sliding through the wreckage. Gasping, she tried to assess damage. The bullet was definitely lodged in her chest. She pressed her hand to her wound. As it came away, it was coated in shiny, slippery blood.
Holy shit, holy shit, I’ve been shot…
She twisted around to see the assailant, a man in heavy combat armor. He raised his gun again.
“Wait!” She held up her hands. “Don’t shoot!”
He yelled and began to spray bullets.
Blood pounded in her head. Unconsciously, she lifted one hand—
His head crumpled like the soda can from the hospital.
Yelena’s eyes widened. She had to get out. She had to escape. She wasn’t thinking clearly, and was at risk of passing out—not just because of the lingering drugs.
So she flew through the nearest window, leaving the stunned party behind.
—
“What the fuck just happened?” Bucky screamed at nobody.
If someone was about to tell him it was “unprofessional” to yell “fuck” at the sky during a party, he would punch them. He was well within his cursing rights. After all, he had just seen Val’s brand-new powerful Avenger drop her boss into a banquet, crush someone’s head without even touching him like it was nothing, and fly through a window and out of sight.
Everyone was cursing at this point.
“Bucky!”
Oh no. Oh hell no.
It couldn’t be.
But it was.
Through the fray, he saw John Walker, dressed in a blue suit, leaping around people.
How did he even get there?
“Walker?” He called out.
“Bucky!”
Walker bounded over, with a woman following behind him. Muttering, she stripped off her red dress, revealing a gray costume under it.
“Walker, what the hell—What are you doing here?”
“Good question,” he replied.
“He’s here with me,” the woman explained. “I’m Ava Starr. You’re Bucky Barnes, right?”
He held up his vibranium arm. “Who else would I be? Mind telling me what’s going on?”
“Sure. That woman—the Sentry—she’s in trouble, and we need to find her before Val does.”
“Why?”
“Val’s controlling her. She gave her powers against her wishes. If she gets her hands on her again, then it could get very bad.”
Of course. That was her plan. That’s the reason she threw this.
Of course the Sentry is mind-controlled.
“Wait.” He held out his hand. “Did you say we?”
“Well, we could use you,” Ava snapped. “Unless you’d rather burrow in a hole and hide?”
“You could use her for your investigation,” Walker pleaded.
Bucky shook his head, yelled at the injustice of the world for putting him in this position, then sighed.
“Fine. I’ll help find her. Then she’s coming with me as evidence. Got it?”
“Fine,” the other two said.
Ava began to pull them outside, through the terrified masses of people.
“Let’s go find ourselves a Sentry, then, shall we, boys?”
Notes:
It’s about to get very dark, people.
Also, please give kudos and comment! I’m so excited to see so many people reading this. If you haven’t already done so, and you like this story and want more of it, please leave some kudos! It would mean a lot. Thank you so much.
Chapter 5: Mr. Shostakov
Notes:
A short one today, more of a bridge. Don’t worry, a longer one will be tomorrow!
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Yelena woke up lying in the grass with no idea what happened.
She blinked and winced a bit. She felt a dull pain all over. Her hair was twisted into the dirt, her fingers entangled in the plants. She seemed to be in a field in the middle of nowhere.
Where am I?
She sighed and sat up. At first, she was surprised to notice she was wearing the yellow hero costume.
It was covered in blood. Some of it was hers; she could see the bullet holes, although she seemed to be fine. But then the rest…
She suddenly remembered the guard’s head being crushed…the blood spraying on her…and with that came the rest of the night. Meeting Ava, the mysterious woman who freed her. Confronting Val (That part went well). Flying through the window.
But mostly, killing that guy.
She felt herself tear up quietly and internally beat herself up over the sudden remorse. Why the change of heart? She was a killer for hire. That was her job. She had killed so many other people before then—and many were more innocent than he. So why did this one stay with her?
That one was different.
How?
This time, he couldn’t hurt me back.
After letting herself cry for a second, she forced herself to calm down and think logically. She needed new clothes. The Sentry costume was basically unusable, even before the blood and bullets. But it wasn’t as though she could just walk up to the nearest store in it and say, Hey, I need some clothes. As you can see, my superhero suit looks really dumb. I don’t have any money, so could you just give stuff for free to me, pretty please?
Yeah, no. Also, that suit was probably all over the news by now.
Her eyes landed on some nearby donation boxes, and a lightbulb went off in her head.
Ten minutes later, with the Sentry costume stuffed in a plastic bag, and dressed in a comfortable pair of dark sweats, Yelena got ready to leave the scene before Val’s people/security guards/regular cops found her.
But go where?
There’s only one place to go.
No. I’m not running back to her. She served her purpose. We cut ties. The end.
You have to. Who else knows about the effects of mind-control? Val could still be controlling you, stupid. You have to figure out how to stop her.
Yelena sighed. Like it or not, her brain was right. There really was no other place. Who would explain it better than the former scientist helming the Red Room’s brainwashing program?
Even though every fiber of her being refused to go see her.
She growled to herself, sighed again, and began to fly towards the last known location of Melina Vostikoff.
—
When Bucky had suggested researching the Sentry to find out where she would go, Ava didn’t think he would lead them into the dredges of the internet.
“Hurry up,” she urged, leaning over his shoulder. All three of them were cooped up in an abandoned shed that Bucky claimed he used for “less professional research”. But she still wasn’t so sure he didn’t just break into some poor person’s computer shack.
“I’m going as fast as I can, Starr,” he grumbled. “These things take time.”
“She could be halfway to Moscow by now.”
“She’s not going to fly across a whole fucking ocean. Besides, why would she ever go to Moscow? It’s like me deciding to go to Moscow.”
“They put you in Moscow? I thought it was an abandoned facility or something.”
“I’m not answering that. Enough questions while I’m working.”
She pouted. “What’re you even looking for, anyway?”
His eyes narrowed as he read the screen. “Well, it’s a bit complicated, seeing as she has nothing on her. Except for a website saying she works for an Italian restaurant, but I’m sure that’s a front for Val to hide what she really does, which is cleanup work, like you said.”
“How do you know? She could really moonlight as a chef.”
“Well, you apparently also work there. Unless you both met over the mozzarella?”
“So, if she has no trail, then how do you find her?”
He showed her an old S.H.I.E.L.D. page on the Avengers.
“Through here.”
“You’re going to trace her through…Natasha Romanoff?”
“If Val wasn’t lying about who that woman was, then yes. It’s not perfect, but there is some sort of paper trail.”
Now Ava was intrigued. “Like what?”
“Well, I looked up her origins, but of course they’re spotty, seeing as Russian shadow assassins usually don’t have records advertising them. But I did find this, through some digging. Reports on a little family in Ohio. Perfect American family. And look there. Natasha.”
Ava stared at him.
“Good God. You’re a computer nerd.”
“I am not a computer nerd. I’m just good with computers. Anyway, look who’s listed as her little sister.”
“Yelena.”
“Wasn’t that her name? Of course, Val could be lying and stealing that girl’s identity for her super-Avenger.”
“No, that’s her real name. It was on her documents. The official O.X.E. ones.”
“Then we found her.”
Ava crossed her arms. “Why does this matter? I mean…cool. She lived in Ohio. So?”
Bucky swiveled around in his seat to face her, looking at her as though she was an idiot. “Her parents listed seem to still be alive. Not only that—they’re in the US.”
“Okay…?”
“So think about it logically. If I was a superhuman that was turned into one against my will, and my parents were still alive and in the same country as me…wouldn’t I want to go there? It’s safe, probably a no-brainer that they’d shelter and feed me. I’d be comforted there. Sounds perfect.”
“But Bucky…they might not be her actual parents. What if these people were Black Widow spies? I wouldn’t want to go back to the people who human-trafficked me when I’m at my lowest.”
“It’s our best shot, isn’t it?”
“I mean, I guess.”
“Did you find a lead?” Walker popped his head in.
“Yeah. She has two parents, and both of them live here.”
“Cool. Which one do you think she’d go to? Mom? Dad?”
“No idea.” Bucky began to click a pen. “But out of the two, the father’s definitely more traceable. So I’d start there.”
“Okay then.” Walker picked up his shield. “Let’s go. What’re we waiting for?”
—
Spread out on his couch, Alexei Shostakov savored his face on his screen.
There he was. The famous Red Guardian. Protector of the Soviet Union. Ah, look at him. There, he was useful! He was loved!
I was hero.
And not a bad-looking hero, too. In his opinion.
The doorbell rang.
Ah, it was the people he paid to get his groceries for him. Even though he still believed capitalism was a sickness, it did have its…certain charms.
“Ah, leave it by the door,” he yelled. “Careful of the eggs! They can break!”
“Mr. Shostakov, please open this door,” came the muffled reply.
Huh?
“I said leave it by the door,” he grumbled, getting up.
He opened the door to three mismatched people.
One was a slightly-terrifying woman in gray, looking bored. There was a man with her, blond, standing with his chest puffed out. And the third man, with dark hair and a brooding expression, waited by the side.
But he recognized them. At least the men.
“Wait. You are…Captain America. And you…” He gasped. “Winter Soldier?”
Fuck, why didn’t he think to change out of his undershirt? Maybe squeeze into his suit? Look at least a little presentable to greet the famed assassin and his enemy/contemporary? And their scary friend?
“You are not…” Alexei stepped back from the door. “You are not DoorDashers.”
“Correct,” said the Winter Soldier. “We’re here to talk about your daughters. Specifically, Yelena Belova.”
Yelena? He hadn’t talked to her in…God, what? A year? Maybe two? “Why?”
“Mr. Shostakov, have you been watching the news?” The woman asked.
“News? No. I don’t watch news.” At least, not from now. Forty years ago? That was a different story.
“Then you have a lot to catch up on.” The Winter Soldier gestured to the doorway. “May we come inside?”
“Why…why do you want to talk about her?”
“She’s missing, dangerous, and in trouble,” replied Captain America. “We need to find her before other people do. Trust us, Mr. Shostakov.”
Trust him? He was Captain America. His enemy, really. And the woman was a complete unknown. As for the Winter Soldier, he went to the other Captain America’s side, so was he really still Russian?
But Yelena. His daughter. She was in trouble. She was missing, alone, maybe fighting for her life right now. Even the best child assassin fails a fight once in a while. Who knew if that fight was happening now, and for her life? Could she die if he didn’t accept?
“Sure,” he replied slowly, holding the door open for them. “Let’s talk.”
Notes:
Ah Alexei. I’m sure nothing will possibly go wrong. Definitely not in this story.
Thank you so much for reading! Pls leave kudos if you haven’t already and you like the fic! Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy the next chapters.
Chapter 6: Ohio
Notes:
WARNING: This chapter contains an attempt at self-harm and suicide. PLEASE PRIORITIZE YOURSELF. If you feel uncomfortable at any part, please skip to the end and ask what happened in the comments. I will gladly summarize for you.
I did warn that it would get darker from here. In this story, Yelena has suicidal thoughts and depression. I’ve based many of her thoughts/actions on my own experience with depression and suicidal ideation.
I WILL touch on her depression later as well! This is meant to be a darker story. Don’t worry, I will warn you when I do so.
Now that I’ve said all that — enjoy! (Kinda)
EDIT (August 24th)—my idiotic autocorrect changed “psychologist” to “physiologist”, lol
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ava was standing in a pigsty, she was sure of it. Plates stacked everywhere, dirty clothes piled high on every surface. Even when Shostakov made an effort to remove some to make more room on his chairs, Ava still declined to sit. She could’ve sworn she could still see stains.
Their host was crumpled in an armchair with his head in his hands at the moment, and Ava had to resist the urge to punch him in the mouth.
“I didn’t know…I didn’t know that happened…”
Pay more attention next time. It’s national news, dipshit.
“It’s okay,” mumbled Bucky. “Just try and tell us more about—”
“I should have been there…should’ve called her…”
Holy fuck this is going to take forever.
“Mr. Shostakov, please just tell us what happened,” Walker interrupted.
“I’m a horrible baba…”
Ava slammed her fist on a coffee table. She regretted it, because now her hand was coated in dust and a mystery substance, but it did snap Shostakov out of his wailing.
“Look, Mr. Shostakov,” she hissed, “We’re trying our hardest to find your daughter before she fucks something up or gets brainwashed again. We need your help. So stop fucking sniffling and help us, goddamnit! Okay?”
Shostakov stiffened, then sighed.
“What do you want to know? I tell everything. Wait, not everything. Some secrets will be held for personal safety—”
“Mr. Shostakov,” Bucky interrupted. “Was your daughter always…”
“Deranged? Insane? Dangerous?” Walker piped in helpfully.
Alexei looked at him weirdly.
“She was child assassin. Not insane. Yes, dangerous.”
“Did that have any adverse effects on her mental health to the point where she would drop her boss from the sky and kill someone?”
“No. She was trained perfectly.” He shifted uncomfortably. “She seemed fine when I last talked to her.”
“Oh boy,” Ava muttered under her breath.
Bucky sighed and clenched his jaw. “Is there anywhere she would go? Other than here?”
“Her apartment, maybe,” he mused. “Or maybe Melina’s—”
Suddenly he gasped and went quiet.
“Who’s that?” Walker asked.
“Nobody,” Shostakov replied quickly. “That is nobody—”
“That was the other parent listed,” Bucky muttered. “Where does she live?”
“This is…this is cruel interrogation! I will not allow—”
Ava glared at him, which cut him off. Apparently he feared her.
Good. He should.
He was annoying the everloving shit out of her.
“I can take you there,” he mumbled. “I know where she is.”
“Why can’t you just tell us?” Walker asked.
Bucky held up his hand. “We might need him. He might be able to calm her down.”
Ava scowled at the idiot in the undershirt. Ha. Sure. That’ll totally happen.
“First we need weapons,” Bucky continued.
Ava stared at him. “No. It’ll look like we’re threatening her.”
“Not for Belova. For Valentina’s people.”
“He’s right,” Walker admitted. “If we get into a fight, I don’t want to rely on our fists and the unstable nuke lady. We left our weapons.” He looked at Bucky.
“Any chance you can get a shield? Maybe a circular one?”
Bucky sighed. “I’ll see what my weapons guy can spare me.”
Shostakov raised his hand. “Am…Am I still coming with—”
“Of course you are.” Ava sighed. “Unfortunately, we might need you.”
—
Melina Vostikoff was sitting on her porch when Yelena found her. Sipping tea in the fading light of the evening sun. Looking annoyingly unsurprised that her youngest “daughter” dropped in from the sky.
“Yelena,” she said.
Yelena touched down and stuffed her hands into her pockets. “What? No ‘Hello, nice to see you again’? ‘Hello, why were you flying’?”
Melina raised an eyebrow. “Fine. Priviet. And if you want me to be impressed that you can fly now, I’d suggest you visit Alexei instead.”
Yelena huffed. “I’m not here to impress you, old woman. I need to talk to you about mind-control.”
“You need more of the antidote?”
“No.” Yelena took the time to look at the house.
“This was…I didn’t think you’d buy our old childhood house.”
“Hmmm. Look familiar? I loved this house.” Melina stood up. “Let’s have dinner.”
“Dinner?” Yelena frowned. “The sun’s just starting to set.”
“Ah, but when you are old woman, you eat earlier,” Melina taunted her, leaving the door open.
“You are not old woman,” Yelena admitted as she walked in. “You look the same.”
“So do you.” Melina stopped and frowned at her. “Except you changed your hair.”
Yelena’s hand immediately went up to her hair. “What, it’s not good? You don’t like it?”
“It’s…eh, it’s okay. I liked the long hair better though.”
Yelena bristled. “I thought it looked good. I thought it looked cool. It’s not cool?”
“There you go, trying to impress me again.”
“I just said I wasn’t here to impress you!”
“Yet here you are. Help me make dinner. Assuming you can cook.”
Yelena followed her to the tiny kitchen. “I can cook. I am like…master chef. You just don’t know the greatness of my cooking skills.”
Melina began to get out some plates. “What should we have, then, master chef?”
Yelena rooted around in the pantry and emerged with a box and a grin. “Mac-and-cheese.”
Melina took one look and flatly replied, “No.”
Yelena slid up to her with the box and did her best impression of puppy eyes. “Pleeeeaaase?”
“I swear, you are still six years old,” Melina grumbled. She slid a bowl over to her. “There. Try not to make a mess.”
“Yes!” Yelena went to boil water. “Besides, it’s the only thing I can cook.”
“Oh, miss master chef!” Melina dug out a spoon for her. “I really don’t know why you even like it so much. It’s barely food. You eat chemicals disguised as…as pasta and fake cheese.”
“Mmmmm. I love cheese. It’s a comfort food to me.” Yelena stopped and slowly looked up. Melina held her gaze and asked, “What?”
Yelena swallowed and asked quietly, in a slightly unsteady voice, “Should we add caviar and champagne?”
Melina’s gaze fell for a moment. She chuckled softly. “We’re still the same, aren’t we?”
“Yes. Except we’ve changed, a little bit.” Yelena brought her water back to her pasta and began to open packets of powdered cheese. There were a million ways they were different now, but she could bring herself to only admit one. “This time you gave in.”
“Hmm.” Melina held up a container. “Green beans.”
“Awww. You remembered my favorite vegetable.”
“Makes sense why it’s your favorite.” Melina wrinkled her nose. “It’s barely a vegetable.”
“Yes it is! It’s better than the…the spinach and the kale and all that stuff.” Yelena made a “yuck” face. “Blegh.”
“So the healthy foods. How are you still alive, eating like this?”
“The trick is to cover the green beans in fake cheese. It’s the secret to immortality.”
“Eh.”
They completed the rest of the cooking in silence.
“Let’s take this to the table.” Melina sat down with her beans and some mashed potatoes. Yelena walked over with her bowl of mac-and-cheese.
“Good all-American dinner, eh?”
“You’d rather have borscht? Sit down.”
Yelena hesitated, then sat across from her.
“So,” asked Melina after some silence, “how have you been?”
Drunk, depressed, debating the merits of death. “…Okay. How about you?”
“Fine. Are you seeing anyone?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Melina, I’m not…I’m not…like that.”
Melina’s eyebrows lifted. “…Okay. Are you interested in anyone…romantically?”
Yelena avoided her eyes and scooped more beans onto her plate. “I don’t know.”
“Hmm.” Melina began to butter some bread. “You know, you’ve been all over the news.”
“Have I?”
“Yes.”
“I hope it’s good.”
“Something about you getting superpowers, throwing your boss to the ground, killing a guard, and then flying away. Presumably to me.”
“That sounds about right, yeah.”
Melina shook her head slowly, as though she couldn’t believe it. “I just never thought I’d see the day when my little daughter gained the power of a million suns.”
Yelena chuckled mirthlessly.
“I’d expect it from Natasha, a little bit, but never from you,” Melina continued.
“No. Don’t do that. Don’t talk about Natasha.”
“What if I want to talk about her?” Melina held her gaze. “What if you’re not the only one mourning her?”
Yelena threw her hands into the air. “Okay, fine. I guess we talk about Natasha, then.”
“She should be here.”
“Yeah, well, many people should be here, shouldn’t they, Melina? People—” She dropped her fork and took in a shaky breath. “People die.”
Her eyes were watering now.
Weak.
Shut up. I don’t need the bad thoughts right now.
Melina slowly lowered her fork and looked at her curiously. “Are you crying?”
“Maybe…maybe I am.”
“At the dinner table?” She said disapprovingly.
“Oh, I’m very sorry, Melina. Very sorry. It’s just I have…I have lots of emotions sometimes, and sometimes they come out of my eyes.”
You sadistic bitch, Melina.
Melina was quiet again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought her up.”
“Yeah. You…you really shouldn’t have.”
“Let’s talk about mind control, then.” Melina leaned back. “What would you like to know?”
Yelena stabbed at her mac-and-cheese. “Val was mind controlling me.”
“Again?”
“I know. First I get brainwashed by my fake mother, then my boss,” Yelena snapped. “It seems I really do have very shit luck, don’t I?”
“Hmm. But you came to talk to me. So that means either she told you to be here, or you’re free.”
“She was drugging me without…touching me. I’m scared that she can control me from far away too. She’ll—she’ll take over me again.”
“Is it a device?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s important information, don’t you think?”
“Melina, you really think I took the time to ask her while I was fleeing for my life?”
“Control your temper next time.”
“You don’t know the things she was telling me.”
“Don’t give me that. You were raised with self-discipline.”
“I wasn’t very good at it.”
“That’s not my fault. You were always too emotional.”
“Thanks.” Yelena threw her fork down. “I’m not even hungry anymore.”
“Eat your food.”
“No. I don’t want to.”
“Ay, you did not age at all. Look at you, still acting six.”
“Being a Black Widow doesn’t let you develop emotional maturity. At all.” Yelena’s eyes burned into Melina’s. “Especially a brainwashed one.”
Melina, to her credit, didn’t snap back. “Well, until you find this device or how she’s been controlling you, I can’t help.”
“Fine. One more question.”
“Yes?”
Yelena sighed and steeled herself. She had told herself she wasn’t going to ask. They had destroyed all records of them. But she was just too curious. Besides, if anyone would know, wouldn’t it be Melina Vostikoff, the brains of the Red Room?
“What happened to my parents?”
Melina raised an eyebrow, but avoided her gaze. “What?”
“My parents. My…real ones. They’re dead, aren’t they?”
“Yes. Under the order of the Red Room.”
She tried to hide how much it hurt her. She never knew them, not really. Just two more people in graves.
“Who…who killed them?”
Melina looked up.
“You.”
What?
Yelena shook her head. “No…no.”
Melina slowly nodded. “I wasn't there, of course. I found out after…Nat died. Apparently it was the first real test if our mind control technology really worked on humans.”
“They…mind-controlled me…to kill my parents?”
“Yes.”
No sadness.
No guilt.
No…anything.
“Why?” Yelena choked out.
Melina tilted her head at her. “They had you declare who you were. Your parents knew. Obviously they asked you to stop. They were monitoring you for that, to see if human emotion could hinder you from your job. But the mind-control…it worked very well.”
Yelena finally broke.
Melina stared at her sobbing former daughter and quietly said, “I’m sorry.”
“Was…” Yelena wiped her eyes and sniffled. “…Was it quick?”
“Yes.”
The two stared at each other, and Yelena didn’t even have to speak to communicate.
They hurt me in ways you could never imagine.
And you helped them.
But it’s still my fault.
“You’re blaming yourself,” said Melina quietly. She laid a hand on Yelena’s without asking. “Don’t. You were a child.”
What kind of child kills her own parents?
Why wasn’t I stronger?
Why didn’t I fight back?
Yelena shook her off.
“Can I…go upstairs?”
“Sure.” Melina shrugged.
Yelena stumbled upstairs. The world was a blur. The only real things were the words bouncing through her mind.
“I’m not the killer that’s on the covers of magazines. I’m not the killer little girls call their hero.”
“You’re a killer, just like me.”
“I think you know that you were already a monster, Yelena. I just helped the whole world see.”
“What’s the difference between you and your sister? Your sister stopped killing. But you…I guess it’s just your nature. Every fiber of your being.”
“Who…who killed them?”
“You.”
I killed them.
It was me.
Just like all the others.
She stopped in front of a tall mirror. She…she was a mess. Both inside and out. Tears had erased the last bits of makeup Val had ordered for her. Finally, Yelena had accomplished what Val could not. Brought the darkness to the surface.
Finally, she looked as broken as she was.
As she stared at her reflection, she felt a bright, burning hatred bubble up within her at the woman she saw. The woman that murdered. The woman that was made great by Valentina’s hands. The woman that didn’t deserve a single drop of greatness that was given.
She lunged at the mirror, shaking it, shouting obscenities at that stupid fucking woman in front of her, her worst enemy. Shaking with anger and tears, she began to punch her reflection, wanting so badly to inflict the same pain on herself.
“You’re evil! You horrible person! I wish you had died instead of them! You horrible, horrible person!”
Glass wavered and broke.
“YOU’RE A MURDERER!”
The jagged edges cut her knuckles, and she welcomed the pain, craved it.
“MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER!”
Blood ran down her hands, smeared on the frame.
She collapsed, surrounded by broken glass, still yelling at herself in the fragments through sobs.
“Murderer…Murderer…Murderer…Murderer…Murderer…”
She fell on her stomach, twitching and feeling tears and snot run down her face. She dug her face and body into the glass, feeling a million cuts. Not enough. Never enough.
“Murderer…Murderer…”
She grasped a particularly large and sharp fragment of glass. It cut her palm, adding to the blood.
Oh, how she wanted to drive that into her heart.
She could.
End it now, whispered that dark part.
You could never be a hero.
You could never be Natasha.
At least do the world a favor and rid it of you.
She closed her eyes, feeling the hot burn of the tears, and positioned the glass over her chest.
—
Melina had heard the screaming from above, and she had let it go on.
She knew she had no place to go up there. What would she even say?
I’m sorry I helped mind-control you to kill your parents. Want some tea?
But then she heard only silence.
And that was when she got worried.
So Melina ran up the stairs and found Yelena curled up in a circle of glass, bloody, shaking, holding something sharp to her chest.
And she knew what she was trying to do.
She still only saw a six-year-old there, though.
Without thinking, Melina yelled at her to stop. Racing over, she wrenched the glass from her hands and dragged her out of the mess. She stripped off her sweatshirt, feeling her daughter tremble under her hands, and searched her for any serious cuts.
“Melina…” Yelena mewled. Her hands, bloody, batted at her ineffectually. “Melina, stop. Stop.”
“Stop you from killing yourself?” Melina stared into her teary eyes and continued evenly, “No. Never.”
“Melina…”
“Hush. You’re all bloody.”
Melina dragged her to the bathroom and began to clean the cuts with clean water, washing away the blood and glass dust. When she got to her face, she felt Yelena’s tears, snot, and blood and struggled to hold it together.
“Why?” Melina washed her face with some water. “Why were you doing that?”
“Melina, there’s something wrong with me…”
“Don’t say that.”
“There’s a dark part…Melina, it talks to me. It tells me to do terrible things to myself. And Melina…I think I agree with it…”
“Everyone has that dark part.”
“But Melina, mine’s so strong.”
Melina felt her own eyes water. “I know. And I’m sorry.”
“I want to die,” Yelena sobbed. “I want to not have to wake up from the nightmares and live them all over again. I want out. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Do what?”
She gestured around at nothing in particular. “This. All of…this.”
Melina bent down so they were level.
“I’m sorry you hurt like this.”
“Melina, it hurts so bad. How do you stop it?”
“You need help.”
“I can’t get help,” Yelena sniffled. “I’m a fugitive.”
Melina dug out a wad of bandages and set to work on her. Patching her up. At least physically.
As much as she wanted to, she had no idea how to help her in her brain. She probably couldn’t.
She silently wished she wasn’t a former Russian murder scientist. Maybe a psychologist or something. A psychologist could probably help right now.
“I know.”
“Melina…I’m so lonely…”
“Do you need a place to stay?”
Yelena froze.
“Wh…what?”
“I have a room for you, until you get better.”
“Really?”
Melina remembered something. Something she had meant to give to her the last time they saw each other, but didn’t know how.
“And I have a present for you. Hold on.”
Melina left to a closet and returned with a new shirt and a package.
“Put on this.” She threw the shirt to her. “And then you can open it.”
Yelena clumsily tugged on the shirt. “What is it?”
“Open it.” Melina gave it to her.
Yelena slowly ripped off the brown package.
Under, neatly folded, was a green-gray vest.
“No.” Yelena looked up at her, vest in her shaking hands. “Is this my old…vest? The one I gave to…?”
“I have contacts. They managed to snag it for me. Here.” Melina clipped the vest on her daughter and tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. “Ah, there we go. That’s my Yelena.”
Suddenly, Yelena’s eyes filled with tears again, and her lower lip began to tremble.
“M…Mommy…”
Melina bent down again, and pulled her into a hug.
“Here. I’m here.”
Yelena burrowed her head into her shoulder.
And they cried.
Together.
Notes:
Okay, story time:
I originally wrote the second half (Yelena/Melina part) as a separate short story just after watching Thunderbolts* for the first time. It was called Monster in the Mirror (you may see that later as a chapter name) and was just supposed to be a short story in an alternate universe where Yelena goes to have dinner with Melina after years of not seeing her. But I decided to expand on that premise—and Project Sentry was born!
Yes, Yelena is asexual. I’m debating whether or not to make her aromantic as well. I based that part off of my own coming out story (This may be the most personal chapter so far, lol).
I hope y’all liked it! Please feel free to leave kudos and comments! I love reading your thoughts and seeing people like the fic!
(And don’t think too hard about how Nat’s vest got back to Melina, lol. Fanfiction magic)
Chapter 7: Avoid
Notes:
*throttling Yelena* START TRUSTING PEOPLE GOD DAMNIT—
Poor Ava is at her limit
Also hmmm, what an interesting chapter name
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Legal troubles, mutinies, and now my weapon is missing!”
Val slammed her fist on her desk in fury.
“Ma’am, we’re attempting to find her—” Mel began.
“Attempting? No, I better see the Sentry safely under my control and in a containment cell in an hour!”
“Val, we’re trying!”
Val stopped and peered at her.
“How did she even get those files?”
Mel’s stomach dropped. “Umm…she said Ava Starr gave them to her, didn’t she?”
“Yes, but how did Starr get them? Who threw those things out? Those were important. I know we have a digital copy, but those physical files…”
“Er…I don’t know. Do you want me to…to ask around, or…?”
Val’s eyes burned into her. “Whoever did it would need top-secret access…”
Mel tried to look as calm as possible. “So I should look into the head doctors then?”
“Sit down, Mel.”
Oh shit.
Mel slowly sat down.
Val entwined her fingers together and narrowed her eyes at her. “Are you having a…crisis of loyalty, Mel?”
Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit…
“N-no, Val. Why…why would I be?”
“You had access to those files.”
“Other people also did.”
“You were against Project Sentry. I know you were.”
“I just…I just thought it was kind of dangerous, that’s all…”
“Mel, do you know what happens when people lie to me?”
“I—Yes, ma’am. I do.”
Of course I do.
We call cleanup crew.
Val began to mess with a corner of paper on her desk. “You know, I know my cleanup crew’s looking a little…thin in the ranks lately, with the disaster that was Starr, Walker, and Belova. But I still have one left. And she’s deadly.”
“I know.”
“She’ll take care of you if you lied to me.”
“I—”
“Do you have anything to say about that, Mel?”
Mel sighed and gathered her courage. “Yes, actually.”
Val raised one eyebrow.
“When I was hired,” Mel continued, “you told me O.X.E. Corp was going to change the world. You said we were going to change it for the better. But it…forgive me, Val, but it doesn’t look better to me.”
“Oh god, don’t tell me you’re still one of those romantics after the idea of ‘superheroes’.”
“People can do good with money and power! Look at Tony Stark! But what we’re doing…Belova was right. We made her worse. We made everything worse.”
Val laughed sharply.
“Oh, Tony Stark! Do you know how many people suffered because of Iron Man? Because of all the Avengers? How many people died because of them? You’re too old to be hanging on to this rose-tinted vision of good and evil, Mel! Because that doesn’t exist.”
She leaned in over the desk.
“Mel, let me tell you something. There are two forces in this cruel world—people who pine after change and people who actually get shit done. The Avengers just were S.H.I.E.L.D.'s poster heroes, just as the Sentry was supposed to be ours.”
“But…you told me we could do something great…”
“Honey, righteousness without power is just an opinion. Sorry to break it to you.” Val leaned back in her seat.
“I hope for your sake, Mel, that you didn’t send those files to the dumpster lab. Now, go call the cavalry and tell them to go non-lethal. I’ve got a lead on the Sentry’s location, and I think it’s time to get our poster hero back. Don’t you think so, Mel?”
—
“Daddy, what’re you doing?”
Alexei hung back and smiled at the five-year-old. “Don’t worry. I’m just going deer hunting with my friend.”
Yelena wrinkled her nose. “Are you going to hurt it?”
Nat swung by and poked her in the arm. “Duh. That’s what hunting is, doofus.”
Yelena turned to Alexei. “Daddy, please don’t hurt the deers!”
Alexei bent down. “They won’t feel anything,” he promised. “Do you wanna come?”
Melina poked her head around the corner.
“Don’t bring her on your hunting trip.”
“I won’t, I won’t!” He yelled hastily before bending down again and looking her in the eye. “Unless, of course, you want to come.”
“No!” Yelena argued. “I don’t wanna hurt animals. I don’t wanna hurt anything.”
Nat gave her a weird look that she didn’t give too much thought to. “That’s good.” She pinched her cheek and giggled as Yelena pushed her away clumsily.
“Clearly you don’t have any qualms about that, Nat!” Alexei guffawed.
Nat smiled sadly.
“Yeah. A cold-blooded killer, I am.”
Yelena began to suspect something was off. Wrong. Like the joking air had changed.
But, again, she didn’t want to think too hard about it at that moment.
—
Yelena groaned and woke up, twisted in the bedsheets. For a moment, she was confused. Where was the glass? Why was the bed so comfortable? Did Val upgrade her, or was she—
Oh. Yeah. Right.
She sighed and rolled out of bed, changing into a pair of comfortable jeans and a white shirt Melina had found for her. Reaching over to a hook on the closet door, she slowly lifted up the vest. Her vest. Nat’s vest. Tracing the pockets with her fingers, she tugged it on and looked at herself in the mirror.
She looked completely normal. Even though her face must’ve been plastered all over the screens of the US by now. But who would be expecting the Sentry to walk around in such an inconspicuous outfit?
Maybe she could wear a hat or something. That might conceal her identity better.
I need to get out of here. What am I even doing, sitting around and playing dress-up when I should be confronting Val?
Yelena steeled herself and got ready to leave. Maybe it would scare Melina a bit, but she couldn’t afford to waste time telling her where she was going—especially when she didn’t quite know herself.
Besides, that other night was so embarrassing. Baring her heart out like that to the woman who helped sell her to the Red Room.
Weakling. Just like I said.
Yeah, she couldn’t afford a repeat of that. The only good thing she got out of it was Nat’s vest.
Just stay away from fucking mirrors from now on and you should be fine.
She made for the door. But just as she had her hand on the doorknob, she heard a strange voice.
A familiar voice.
No. Fuck no. It can’t be.
But it was.
“Melina, you have no right to hide her from her dad—!”
“No right? Alexei, you always make things worse—!”
“Make things worse? I make things better!”
Yelena cracked open the door and stuck her head through, feeling for all the world like a six-year-old again, trying to eavesdrop on her parents.
She heard a woman howl, “Bloody hell, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND HELP US!”
It was that woman, the woman that had talked to her two days ago. Ava something. What was she doing here? How did she find…?
…Oh, fuck you, Alexei.
“I’m going to check upstairs,” announced a man, sounding slightly familiar.
She sighed quietly. She was going to get found out eventually. Might as well be on her own terms, at least.
“No need,” she called out, descending the stairs in full view of them all.
The first person she noticed was Alexei Shostakov, who was staring at Melina across the kitchen counter. The person nearest to the stairs must’ve been the man who was about to investigate the upstairs area—a man with dark hair and a fancy prosthetic arm. It took her a moment to recognize him.
She had seen him on TV. At Val’s party.
Congressman James Barnes.
What is he doing here?
Her friend Ava was sitting in an armchair, fuming, her arms crossed. A blond man was leaning against it, looking bored.
Everyone snapped their heads up to look at her.
Yelena paused at the bottom of the stairs.
“Um…hi,” she said awkwardly.
Alexei suddenly rushed up to her and threw his arms around her, embracing her in such a tight bear hug that she was lifted off the floor.
Yelena felt several ribs crack.
“Leeeennnnaaaaa…” Alexei exclaimed, shaking her from side-to-side like a rag doll, “Ah, my little girl is superhero…”
“Alexei,” she gasped. “Alexei, I can’t breathe…Put me down…”
“Oh. Sorry.” He dropped her on the floor.
“I wouldn’t call her a hero right now,” growled Ava. “She got a few people killed.”
“One,” Yelena corrected. She staggered upright. “Only one. And I didn’t mean to. He was…he was trying to kill me.”
Ava laughed mirthlessly. “Along with a bunch of doctors. Apparently, you turned them into dust or something? You ‘disappeared’ them. The files weren’t really clear about what had happened.”
Yelena felt her stomach drop.
“What do you mean? What did I do?”
“That’s not important,” Melina interrupted, her expression unreadable. “Yelena, why are there two hired killers and a congressman in my house?”
“Hey, human trafficker.” Ava pointed at Melina threateningly. “Don’t call me a hired killer.”
“We are getting nowhere with all the fighting,” Alexei said loudly over their squabbling. “Lena, you need to come with us.”
“Why?” She looked around at them all. “Who even are all of you? What’s going on? Are you going to turn me in?”
Congressman Barnes stepped in, his hand held out as though he was calming a wild animal. “Relax, we’re trying to help you.”
“Yeah, before Val’s people get your ass,” Ava added helpfully. “Or the cops. Or the Feds. Or anyone else, really.”
“How do I know you won’t betray me?” She felt like a child, a weak, scared child, asking if they planned to hurt her.
What if they lie to me?
You’re such a loser, Yelena.
Ava huffed and stood. “Excuse me, who saved you from Val’s clutches? Who told you everything you needed to know? Who risked her life to give you those damn files?”
The blond man raised his hand. “And me. I helped.”
“Not helping, John,” Ava snarled out of the side of her mouth.
Yelena faltered. On one hand, she really didn’t know who to trust anymore. Alexei and Melina. Val. O.X.E. Corp. Herself.
Trusting ended badly.
But on the other hand, what Ava said made sense. She did risk her life. All of them did.
But for what?
To use her?
Or to save her?
Were their intentions truly good or were they only trying to trick her?
“Please, Yelena,” Barnes whispered. “Even if you don’t trust us, we all only want the same thing.”
He held out his hand.
“To take down Val.”
She hesitated, then slowly extended her hand to shake it—
—With a few scattered yells and a loud bang, five military soldiers suddenly burst through Melina’s door.
“Seriously?” Melina protested.
Yelena turned back to the others, snarling and on the defensive. “I knew it. The whole time, you were selling me out. You tricked me!”
“I swear to God, Belova, we didn’t call them!” Ava yelled.
One soldier noticed her.
“There! There she is!”
Yelena stepped away from the congressman and cleanup crew members, feeling trapped, betrayed, terrified, and faced the soldiers.
“Sentry,” one of the braver ones spoke up. “Come with us.”
“Not a chance in hell,” she snapped back.
They faced each other, the tension so thick someone could cut it with a knife. Then one of the soldiers quickly threw a canister at her.
Gas began to spill out of it. Coughing, Yelena ducked and quickly covered her nose with a scrap of cloth taken from the kitchen. She had to get out of there.
They’re attacking me.
Eyes tearing from the gas, she ran blindly. She crashed into the banister of the stairs and used that to ascend, up, up, away from them.
She managed to break away from the gas. Gasping the fresh air, Yelena paused at the top of the stairs.
She heard them blunder up the steps and clenched her teeth. She would not go down without a fight. She was born for it. Trained for it. She refused to make this any easier for Val.
The first soldier stomped up to the top floor, the others not far behind. Yelena dashed over to him and punched him in the face.
He went flying. Still on the stairs, his comrades yelled.
He staggered up as she approached, bleeding profusely from his nose. He took three shaky steps towards her before she took him out with a single kick. He went down without further fighting.
Huh. This super strength thing, it’s not so bad.
The rest of them rushed her at once, and the fight quickly devolved into chaos. Yelena instinctively fell back on her old Black Widow training. Graceful. Swift. Deadly. The Sentry couldn’t help her now—she refused to kill someone like that guard at the party ever again. She punched, kicked, bit, grappled with them as they dogpiled her. Somewhere, one of them was calling for backup. She couldn’t make out everything, but she heard one distinct word.
Lethal.
They want to kill me now.
She broke free of the cluster and flew out a window. Glass got tangled in her hair as she spiraled away, and she felt a bit bad for Melina, who would have to pay to fix the damage to the house once everyone was gone. If she was even still alive. Who knew what those soldiers had done while she was busy fleeing?
From the sky, she could see more black cars pull up to the house. Val’s soldiers. People began to run from the vehicles to where she was floating.
She landed in a circle of people. Hands held up in a show of peace. Vulnerability.
She could see all the guns trained on her.
No matter how strong she was, she couldn't take that many bullets.
She flung off Nat’s vest in case this was her last stand, even though it might bring her comfort in her last moments. But she felt sick thinking of it drenched in blood and peppered with bullet holes. Better leave Melina and Alexei something to hold onto. A memento of their daughters.
Their two poor, dead daughters.
“Please, don’t shoot,” she cried to them, to the crowd of soldiers, to the guns. “Don’t shoot. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
But they were deaf to her pleas. Of course they were. They had seen her crush a man’s skull like a soda can. They had seen her do whatever she had done to the doctors, the disappearing thing Ava was talking about. They had seen a small taste of the power of a million suns.
So they aimed.
And they shot.
And little bits of metal, lots of them, hit her all at once. Peppering her shirt. Driven into her skin. They didn’t miss. That would go against their training.
And Yelena fell.
This is kinda a cool way to die, at least.
But as she blacked out, she noticed something…
There’s no blood.
—
The soldiers fell silent as the Sentry collapsed, holding their breath.
Was it that easy?
One brave soul cautiously emerged and checked her.
“She’s not bleeding, but she doesn’t have a pulse either,” he announced.
What? Confusion rippled through their ranks. That was impossible. They never missed. Besides, it wasn’t possible to die from gunshots when the bullets never even entered your body.
Then, something strange happened.
The shadows from all over the property seemed to flow towards the Sentry’s body.
People began to retreat and yell as the shadows converged.
Ava, Bucky, Melina, Alexei, and John burst through the back door just in time to see a terrible version of the Sentry, wrapped in darkness, rise.
—
You are worthless.
Couldn’t even stop a bullet.
What kind of hero are you?
No, stop, stop. Stop it. This is wrong. What you’re doing—what I’m doing, what you’re making me do—it’s wrong.
I would laugh at your uselessness, but that would be a waste of my time.
Weakling.
Let me handle this, since you failed.
The darkness lifted into the air.
“What the hell is that thing?” Someone yelled.
“Is that the Sentry?”
“Why’s it so…weird looking?”
Dimly, Yelena attempted to fight back. Stop it. Stop it. This is wrong. I’m not like this.
You’re not like this?
Not anymore. I’m better now.
Better? You’re still a murderer. You still ran to Val even though you know how “wrong” it was, time and time again. You’re just too sensitive to realize this.
There’s a reason why no one loves you.
There’s a reason why we will always be alone.
You can’t fight me anymore.
And the darkness was right.
As Yelena gave up, gave into the misery and pain and self-loathing, the darkness held out one hand.
One of the soldiers was turned to nothing more than a silhouette.
The rest began to scream and back away.
“God, what the hell is that thing?!”
“Retreat! Avoid it! Avoid it!”
Avoid it.
Avoid.
Avoid.
A void...
I am a void.
Notes:
👀 What happens next
Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed!
I…
…crave…
…validation… lol
Chapter 8: Confessions of a Lab Rat
Notes:
Sorry if this chapter isn’t as good—my dog just died this morning and I’ve been kinda struggling with that. 😢
Featuring a fully Ava chapter, because I love my girl and she needs more focus.
I’m trying to work out a schedule, posting every Saturday/Sunday! Obviously, the hard part’s going to be sticking with this, but I’ll try!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Oh my god,” Shostakov whispered, taking a step back. “Is that…Lena?”
“Whatever the fuck it is, we have to stop it,” Ava growled, beginning to walk over to it.
Walker held her back.
“Wait. Hang on, Ava. We don’t know what she’s doing to them. We need to get out of here!”
Ava shook him off.
“We need her to get Val in prison. Okay?”
Besides, there was another reason, but Ava couldn’t bring herself to admit it.
The woman she had met backstage at the party. Scared and drugged. Yet willing to listen. She didn’t want her to be consumed as well.
That was it.
Yeah.
Obviously.
“Don’t do it,” Bucky warned.
“Then by all means, tell me what we’re supposed to do!” Ava pointed at the pandemonium. “It’s turning people into fancy ground graffiti! Are we just supposed to let that happen?”
“Ava, they’re our enemies!” Walker cried.
Ava stared at him and shook her head.
“You’re sick.”
“Yeah, because you’re a saint, aren’t you?” He replied angrily.
The shadow Sentry seemed to survey the area slowly before landing. Checking for more danger, maybe. By this time, the soldiers had all fled for their lives. The shadow Sentry stood there for a moment before crumpling to the ground.
The shadows bled away, revealing Yelena. They retreated as she sat up and groaned.
She blinked at them blearily.
“What…What happened?”
“…Are you stupid?” Walker replied slowly, looking dumbfounded.
“Wow. Thanks.” She clutched her head. “Damn. What happened here?”
“I’m going to check on her,” Ava announced.
“Hey. Hold on. That’s dangerous,” Bucky argued.
“I don’t give a shit.”
Walker stared at her curiously. “Why do you care so much?”
Ava shrugged. “Evidence.”
She approached Yelena cautiously.
“Hey. Everything…okay?”
“Aside from the headache?” She struggled to stand.
“Here. Let me help.” Ava grabbed her hand to help her up—
—With what felt like a strange pulling sensation, the world was sucked away from her.
—
Ava was in a lab. A familiar one.
Fuck no.
How did I get here?
She could see the space. The white containment cell. And someone inside.
Her.
Ava gasped softly and approached it. Yes, it was herself in the cell, clutching a white teddy bear. A younger version. A child, surely. Way too young to be trapped in there like a lab rat.
“Ava,” came a voice.
She looked over to see a younger Bill Foster. White lab coat. Everything was white back at that lab. A S.H.I.E.L.D. lab. Sterile and stark. No personality. Why should it have had any color? It wasn’t a children’s room.
He crossed over to Little Ava, who pressed her hands to the glass. Both ignored the future, adult Ava.
“Mr. Foster!” She gasped. He was always her favorite scientist, back at S.H.I.E.L.D.’s program.
He bent down and smiled kindly at her. “It’s me.”
“Any luck?” Ava could see the desperation in her eyes. No, worse. She could remember it. The pain. The need for an answer. The lack of one.
Foster’s smile faded. “No luck yet, Ava. But soon. After you finish your training, they told me they were going to work on fixing you.”
Another failure in a long, long list.
Fuck the training.
Little Ava seemed to deflate. “Can you put on the TV?”
“Sure.” He stood up. “What would you like to watch?”
Little Ava didn’t have to think hard about it. She lived her life in a cage. She didn’t have much else to do other than watch TV, listen to scientists tell her about field operations, and pretend she was somewhere else.
“I want a rom-com,” Little Ava announced. Back then, she loved them, even though they made the adult Ava want to vomit. Back then, she was entranced by the story. How everything always—every time—turned out right. She wanted a little bit of that magic for herself.
“Alright then.” He sighed and retrieved a remote. As he moved around the room, Little Ava watched him. Her body was pressed against that damn glass. Oh, how she used to wish the glass would just break one day. Even though that would mean her death.
Death or imprisonment? An impossible decision.
“Mr. Foster,” she suddenly asked, “do you think I’m going to be able to love someone?”
He paused and looked at her. “What?”
“Like the movies.”
Foster sighed again and crossed over to her cage. Little Ava looked up at him. Eyes filled with childlike innocence and dreams. From her silent perspective, Big Ava watched too. Her eyes had long lost that innocent and dreamy look.
But she would be damned if she didn’t admit, even now, that she wanted a yes. It didn’t have to be love, even. Just…a friend. A single friend.
One that didn’t view her as weird or broken.
Or wrong.
Or pitiful.
A freak, a weapon, a fancy spy, a danger, a shadow operator, a rude bitch, a ghost—
“I’m sorry, Ava,” said Foster quietly, “but I think you’re always going to be alone. Even if we fix you, I don’t know if you’re ever going to get a normal life.”
It was that moment that killed her spirit. He said it with no malice, just…sadness.
It wasn’t just because he said those words.
It was because he was right.
Wasn’t that why she had gone over to Val, after Scott and Hank and Janet and Hope left her? In the Blip, really, so it wasn’t a logical decision to let her go. But it felt like a betrayal.
Maybe it was. Scott came back early, didn’t he? He wasn’t Blipped.
He didn’t even think to look for her.
So she had done what she did best—survive. Val had helped her. Built her a containment suit so her cells didn’t rip herself apart.
And now, Val was probably plotting to kill her.
Foster was right.
She was always going to be alone. No friends, or love, or even allies.
How long would it be until Walker and Bucky left as well?
Shostakov already wasn’t a friend, and would never be.
And Yelena Belova? She was a weapon. She was probably going to be killed at the end. Either by the government, for being too dangerous. Or by Ava’s hands, perhaps, so the government couldn’t use her.
All alone.
Little Ava’s face filled with despair, such a profound feeling of it that she made Big Ava want to hug her. God, how bad she felt in that moment. And how those words echoed around her head for years, decades even.
”I’m sorry, Ava, but I think you’re always going to be alone.”
Both Avas looked at Foster, and both thought at the same time, How can you look at a child you saved and say that to her? A child in pain. A child I thought maybe you loved.
Foolish. Idiotic thing to think.
Big Ava turned away from Foster and was suddenly staring at Yelena, who looked very confused.
“Ava?” She asked.
Ava blinked, and she was out of the lab and in the middle of an abandoned Ohio neighborhood again.
“Ava, are you okay?” Yelena asked again.
How did she do that? Bring back that memory? Was it mind-reading? No, somehow she had replayed the flashback. Maybe it was tied to the shadow Sentry thing, whatever the hell that was.
Ava sighed and regained her composure. “Yeah. But you,” she continued, pointing at Yelena, “you need to get your power under control, for fuck’s sake!”
“I don’t even know what I did! What happened?!”
“You—you had—you had become a shadow. And you were…’disappearing’ people. That’s what all this is.” She spread her arms out to indicate the mess.
The color drained from Yelena’s face. “How did I do that? The last thing I can remember was…Is there any way to bring them back?”
“Honestly, I kinda don’t want to,” Walker said. He picked up a discarded gun and turned it over in his hands thoughtfully.
“You need to come with us,” Bucky said, continuing their prior conversation, as though soldiers hadn’t just broken into their location and caused Yelena to throw an unholy meltdown.
“To take down Val?” She asked.
“Yes. You in?”
“Do I have a choice?” Yelena replied shakily.
“No, not really,” Walker told her.
“Fine. On one condition.” She staggered up and faced them all. “Once we’re done, we look into fixing me. I don’t want to…to ‘disappear’ anyone else. To lose control again.”
“You said you could fix me.”
“I don’t know if…if we can,” Bucky said slowly.
“Any luck?”
“No luck yet.”
Ava was already prepared for a kill switch in Yelena’s future anyway.
But then did she feel so uncomfortable about it? Or…dare she think it…even sad?
She’s basically another lab rat. Like me.
But infinitely more dangerous, Ava reminded herself.
Yelena looked her right in the eye, and Ava started to get suspicious that she really could read minds, because she continued, “Then kill me. Please.”
“Lena, no, don’t say that,” Shostakov began, but Yelena ignored him, fixing her gaze only on Ava.
This feels wrong.
“I’m too dangerous,” she continued quietly.
But Ava stared back into her eyes and replied evenly, “Sure. After this is over and you help us take down Val, we’ll kill you. If you want.”
Her gaze flooded with relief. “Thank you. I don’t want to be…theirs. Not anymore. And I’m sure bad things would happen if they took me.”
At least Ava could agree with that sentiment.
Shostakov looked heartbroken (Ava almost felt bad for him, if he wasn’t so annoying), but declared loudly, “I want to come too.”
“Why?” Walker asked suspiciously.
“I can help. I overhear a lot. I drive a limo.”
Or, more likely, he wanted to interfere with the killing part of the plan.
Ha ha. We’re onto you, buddy.
But whatever. They had two super soldiers. Surely they could take him on later, when it came to it. Or maybe even get him arrested, which would be better.
Yelena walked over and picked up that vest again. She rubbed it a little with her thumbs before sliding it on.
“I’m ready,” she said, looking up. “Where are we going?”
Bucky looked at them. “I know a place.”
Ava turned away from Yelena, who was still looking at her strangely. Did she see the memory? Did she even have that power? Was Ava just going mad?
“Great. Let’s go.”
Bucky led them to the nearest abandoned car and broke in easily. They filed in—Bucky being the driver, Alexei in the passenger seat, and Walker, Yelena, and Ava in the back.
Yelena held the door open for her. Ava hesitated. Another team. Another chance. No. Another chance she could never risk taking. They would have to fall apart. It was the only way.
One last assignment.
But…what if Walker and Bucky wouldn’t abandon her at the end? When they took care of Val and killed Yelena? What if they threatened to turn her in too? The former Captain America and a congressman against some random girl with chronic pain and a nifty magic trick. No matter that they both also had blood on their hands—one had the highest honors of the military given to him and the other was the friend of Steve Rogers himself, she would never win against that. Then what? Would she go to prison?
Then I’ll have to eliminate them. For my own safety. Sure, they’re strong. But they can’t fight an enemy they can’t hurt.
For my own safety.
They know too much about me. It’s not like I’m just being paranoid or something. I just can’t afford another chance.
It might hurt, but when have I not hurt?
I’ve progressed from being the one abandoned to planning to kill off my allies.
Foster will always be right.
Ava slid in after the Sentry and slammed the door closed.
Notes:
Ava 👀 feelings 👀 for the “evidence”?? 👀
Also sweetie I’m going to hold your hand while I say this—yes you are paranoid as hell please don’t kill your teammates THEY WILL NOT SELL YOU OUT—
Chapter 9: Bunker
Notes:
Another bridge chapter for you guys! Including lots of fluff before I traumatize these characters again :)
Also, to all the John Walker fans that somehow have stayed with this fic, I swear he gets better
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Bucky’s plan of escape was apparently to drive for hours. Crammed in the backseat, Yelena passed the time by napping, staring out the window at endless nothingness, and trying to remember what she had done.
Clearly, something bad.
Something so bad, Ava refused to fully explain it. And she didn’t want to ask the blond man, John Walker, who honestly got on her nerves. He seemed jumpy around her, but also strangely determined to prove that he was…what? Stronger than her? Better than her?
As though I can’t kill him in ten seconds flat.
Men.
Though, to be fair, Bucky Barnes was much better. He was quiet, occasionally asking the three in the back if they needed anything. He was polite to her, at least.
Alexei was very normal, considering his overpowered daughter had made a pact to kill herself. A little too normal, which set off some alarm bells in her head that she would have to analyze later.
And Ava…
Yelena glanced over at Ava, who was staring fixedly at the scenery.
Something was up with her. When she went to help Yelena up, she seemed to…do something weird. Blank out, maybe. As though she was somewhere very far and sad.
But before that, Ava had helped her. At the party. At the backyard. When the others stayed away, she came to her. When Yelena made her deal, she had focused on Ava, because she felt like she could…understand, maybe. Even though she wasn’t the one that was ever mind-controlled. But there was just something about her.
I’ll have to look into that later, too.
Walker spoke up.
“Hey, Bucky, are we there yet?”
In the rearview mirror, Yelena could see Bucky sigh.
“It’s going to take an hour longer,” he announced. “So hang tight.”
Walker groaned. “Where are you even taking us?”
“Someplace safe, I promise.”
Walker glared at Yelena as though she was the problem. Which, if she was going to be honest, she was. But she would never admit that to his face, so she glared back and tried to shift as far away as she could from him as possible without touching Ava.
“If only we weren’t traveling with a high-level fugitive,” he muttered.
I never forced you to find me, asshole. That was all you.
“If only we were traveling with Captain America, who could make the situation better,” Yelena snapped back.
“Hey, don’t talk to me like that.” He pointed his finger at her. “You’re the reason why we’re all in this mess.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake Walker, lay off her,” Ava suddenly growled, turning towards him. “No one made you get off your ass to find her.”
“Actually, Val did,” he pointed out, as if Yelena was somehow Val in disguise and therefore was still at fault.
“Take it up with Val, then.”
“Why do you care so much,” Walker mumbled under his breath, but he dropped it.
“So, eh, Winter Soldier,” Alexei began from the front.
“Don’t call me that,” Bucky interrupted emotionlessly.
“Sorry. So, Mr. Winter Soldier…are you taking us to…top-secret base?”
“In a way,” he replied cagily.
“That’s not comforting, Bucky,” Ava grumbled.
“Don’t you have to be a congressman, anyway?” Walker whined. “Don’t you have your job to get back to, instead of being our glorified chauffeur?”
Yelena seriously was considering punching him in the face.
Don’t make our chauffeur leave. I like the chauffeur. He drives very smoothly and can throw bad guys through three counties.
But Bucky replied evenly, “They’re used to me disappearing for periods of time.”
“Right, because that’s not concerning at all,” John whimpered.
“Oh what, are you worried he’s going to kidnap the poor, sad, weak super soldier?” Yelena hissed at him. “Is the one-day Captain America shaking in his boots over the big scary—”
“Just shut the fuck up already. Jesus Christ.”
“No.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t want to.”
Walker’s voice went an octave higher than it should’ve been. “Everyone, I present to you Earth’s mightiest hero, a woman who won’t stop fucking talking.”
“I like hearing her talk more than I like hearing you talk,” Ava bit back at him before turning a slight hue of red for some odd reason and looking away.
“Okay, yeah, so now it’s fun to gang up on me like this. Okay.” Walker flung out his arms in irritance, smacking Yelena and Ava across their foreheads.
“You just hit me in the face!” They both roared at once to him.
“I can destroy you with a thought—”
“—Do you want me to phase through your chest and rip your heart out—?”
“Everyone! Shut the fuck up!” Bucky yelled, startling them into silence.
Walker shoved Yelena, who smacked him away.
“This is going to go great,” Bucky continued lightly, like he didn’t break up a fight just moments before.
Like three petulant children, Yelena, Ava, and Walker just quietly glared at him from behind.
—
Bucky’s hiding place seemed just as well-thought-out as his escape plan. A bunker in the middle of the woods.
“What are we doing here?” Alexei asked, looking baffled.
“This is one of my bunkers,” Bucky explained casually, as though it was perfectly normal to have multiple bunkers in the middle of nowhere.
Ava stared at him.
“Why do you have a bunker?”
“You can never be too careful,” Bucky muttered, unlocking the door and shoving them all in.
They stumbled into a dark space, smelling of mold, age, and something slightly metallic. When Bucky slammed his fist on a panel in the wall, dim lights slowly flickered on like he had resurrected them from the dead.
“This is cozy,” Ava snorted, looking around at the sparse metal furniture.
“Save it.” Bucky moved over to the most crowded area of the bunker—a corner with a desk and some computers. He pulled up a chair as Yelena followed him curiously.
“What’re you doing?” She asked, peeking over his shoulder as he booted up his tech.
“Trying to figure out how de Fontaine keeps finding you,” he answered, focused on the screen. “Unless you remember her doing something?”
“Not really. My memory’s still a little fuzzy. So you’re hacking? I can help with that…”
He looked up at her with something like…fear.
“No, it’s fine,” he replied quickly. “I’m used to doing it alone.”
Yelena stared at him.
“Bucky, I was trained for this.”
“It’s fine,” he repeated. “Look, we don’t know what that serum did to you. It could be dangerous if we trigger you. There’s a bedroom down the hall. It’ll only take a minute.”
He doesn’t want me to mess with anything.
Fine then.
Yelena sighed and gave up. “Okay. Tell me if you need me.”
“I will,” Bucky replied, turning around again.
Yelena slowly trudged over to the bedroom, which held a metal bedframe, a blanket bunched in a pile, and a single chair.
How inviting.
She sighed and sat down on the chair as soon as Ava popped by.
“Hey.” Ava leaned against the doorframe. “How’re you doing?”
“Okay. Bucky put me in time-out. I don’t think he trusts me to handle myself.”
Bucky had a point, but she didn’t add that part.
“If it makes you feel better, he kicked all of us out of the room. I guess he just doesn’t like people around his fancy toys.”
Yelena laughed a bit. Ava joined in before getting serious.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Are you asking me if I’m about to ‘disappear’ you?”
Ava traced the doorframe. “Perhaps.”
“Don’t worry. I’m feeling perfectly bored and normal.”
Ava snorted. Grinning, Yelena began to shake out the blanket. The air was chilly—it was autumn, after all. She lay the quilt over her shoulders.
She suddenly felt tiny legs moving on her neck and freaked out, half-flying, half-leaping away.
“JESUS GOD FUCK—!”
Ava jumped. “What the hell?!”
“THERE’S SOMETHING ON ME! GOD THERE’S SOMETHING ON ME LIKE A BUG OR SOMETHING—!”
Ava started trying to hide her giggles. “Okay, okay, calm down. Good God, you’re jumpy.”
“I can feel it—!”
Yelena shuddered as Ava came towards her. She felt the rough surface of the gloves against her neck and relaxed at her touch unconsciously. Something about the fiery, snarky killer enchanted her in ways she didn’t really understand. She should hate her, but she…didn’t.
Weird.
“Okay, stay still. I can see it.” Ava aha-ed and pulled something off. “It’s a spider.”
“What?” Yelena felt her whole body shiver.
Ava sounded surprised. “Are you…afraid of spiders?”
“They have too many damn legs and weird little eyes and ugly little bodies…”
Ava began to laugh. “Never thought you were an arachnophobe. Hey, and look what it is.”
Yelena twisted around to look at the spider Ava was holding from the abdomen. Its legs were curled in defeat, but she could still make out a bright red hourglass against the black exoskeleton. Melina would call it Latrodectus. Also known as…
“A black widow spider,” Ava continued. “How fitting.”
Yelena eyed the spider suspiciously. “They’re dangerous.”
“Aren’t we?” Ava joked. “I know they eat bugs. I’m going to go ask Bucky if we can put her outside.”
As she left, Yelena rubbed the back of her neck and thought about red hourglasses.
A minute later Ava returned. “Hold on, I have to check you for bites.”
“I don’t think she bit me,” Yelena began, but Ava was already checking her neck again.
“Why do you wear that suit?” Yelena asked suddenly.
Ava sighed but continued checking her resolutely. “Val built it for me. To stop my cells from fragmenting into nothing.” At Yelena’s look, she continued with a slightly harsh laugh, “What? You thought my phasing was just a cool power?”
“Yeah, a little. Are you okay? Does it hurt?”
“Yeah. All the time. But I can handle it.” Ava’s fingers ruffled through her hair. “Okay, you’re safe.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Yelena replied, rolling her eyes, which drew another chuckle from Ava.
They both sat there a moment, neither wanting to move. Slowly, Yelena rested her head against Ava, who allowed her.
This surprisingly tender moment was interrupted by Bucky storming in, with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.
Yelena and Ava burst up, worried.
“What is it?” Yelena searched his face. “Is something wrong? Is it bad?”
“Very.” Bucky tilted his head at her. “It’s very bad.”
Then, like lightning, he leaped forward and grabbed her.
Notes:
My girls are fooling absolutely nobody
Also Bucky USE YOUR WORDS
Next chapter might take longer than a week, as my work is piling up, and I want to write a larger chapter for the 10th! Fair warning. I will, however, try to get that rolled out by next weekend.
Chapter 10: The Taskmaster
Notes:
Guys is that a romance tag *gasp*
Extra long chapter today to make up for missing last week’s!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“What happened?” Ava cried as Bucky dragged Yelena into the main area.
“I—Bucky—get off—” Yelena struggled against his metal grip, but, unwilling to use her powers, she failed to wiggle out. “Bucky, what the fuck is going on?!”
“You’ve got a tracker implanted in you. Should’ve known.” He took out a knife. “I don’t want to do it this way, but we absolutely cannot let them find out where we are again.”
Oh, so that was what that strange little bump was under her skin. She inwardly cursed herself for not being as perceptive.
At that moment, Walker and Alexei burst in.
“Hey, Buck—” His eyes narrowed at the raised knife. “What’re you doing?”
Alexei noticed it and went insane.
“NO! NO! NO YOU CAN’T KILL MY LENA! I WON’T LET YOU—!”
“Alexei!” Yelena yelled. “Alexei, shut up! He’s not going to kill me yet.”
Alexei went quiet but glared suspiciously at Bucky.
“Wait!” Ava got in between them, throwing out her hands. “What if I just phase through and pull out the tracker?”
Bucky shook his head. “No. Way too dangerous. You could sever her artery or something. Have you ever even tried that before?”
“No, but knifing her is better?”
“YOU’RE GOING TO KNIFE MY LENA—?!”
“NO ONE’S KNIFING ANYONE!” Yelena and Bucky roared at once.
“Give that to me,” Yelena growled. Bucky sighed and handed over his knife. She sighed, gripped the blade, and dug it into her arm. Pain blossomed across her arm as blood welled up. She bit her tongue to stifle most of the gasp as she dug out a small chip of metal.
Just like in Morocco.
It glimmered with red stains. She held it up. “Ah. There we go.” She ripped off the bottom of her shirt and tightly bound her wound with it.
“Hopefully we got it in time before—” Bucky began.
But then he was interrupted by a knock.
Everyone froze. Bucky held up his hand in warning before silently moving over to the door.
He suddenly threw open the door without warning, pulled someone in, and pinned the visitor to the wall.
“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!”
Yelena frowned. “…Mel?”
Mel nodded, terrified, a bunch of papers in her arms. “Please, please, wait! I’m trying to help you!”
Bucky looked back at the others. “Can we trust her?”
Alexei shrugged, but Ava, Walker, and Yelena nodded. Bucky sighed and let her go.
Mel stumbled forward. “I brought these for you.” She dumped her files on the floor. “It’s…everything. The whole history of Project Sentry and O.X.E.’s illegal experiments. Everyone who died, the formulas for the serum, Belova’s testing entries, all of it. You’ll need this if you want to take her down. She’s been spinning stories about how you three,” she continued, pointing at Ava, Walker, and Bucky, “stole her Sentry from her. If you need to find her, you’ll find her in New York.”
“Stole the Sentry? But that’s—” Walker began furiously.
“We know it’s a lie! We were there!” The others yelled at him before returning their attention to Mel.
Bucky slowly rifled through the papers. “This could help me get my job back,” he murmured to himself.
Ava glanced at him. “What?”
He sighed. “They voted me off. Probably in light of Val’s accusations. Citing my strange disappearances as well.”
“Who could’ve guessed,” Walker muttered.
Mel peered outside. “Wait. There’s something else.”
“What?” Yelena asked.
We don’t need any more surprises.
Mel gasped. “She’s here.”
“Who’s here?” Ava demanded.
“I wasn’t the only one who used the tracker to find you. Val sent another agent. She’s very dangerous. She’s—”
Suddenly she choked, spraying blood across the floor. Everyone jumped back with a yell of shock and disgust. Mel stumbled forward before falling.
An arrow was embedded in her back.
Yelena’s mind raced, a million questions racing through her head. Most importantly, who—?
Mel’s murderer slowly stepped into the open doorway, their features covered by a sleek skull-like mask. They pressed a button on the side, separating the mask and removing it.
Antonia Dreykov threw her bow to the floor.
“I hate traitors.”
—
Who the fuck is this bitch? Ava stepped back, her eyes flicking between Mel’s body and Skull Lady.
She couldn’t believe it. Mel. Dead. It was quick, too, no time to really react to it. She had helped them, and gotten an arrow to the heart or something.
For some reason, it was this that truly scared her for the first time. Ava had always known how dangerous Val could be. She wasn’t always a sly, witty woman. Hell, she was part of the reason why Val was dangerous in the first place. But to put a kill order out on her treasured assistant, even one that betrayed her? If Mel could go down so quickly, Ava had no hopes for their own safety at all.
And there were things worse than death. Look at Yelena, saddled with immense power she could never hope to control. And that was on the prettier side of experimentation. What could Val do to them? Rip Ava’s atoms apart over and over and over again? Turn Walker into some sort of Hulkish beast? Reawaken Bucky’s Winter Soldier training, and turn Shostakov into one as well? Surely, Yelena would be back under Val’s thumb, except turned fully mindless to be better under her control. What other horrors would Val inflict on her enemies in her shadowy lab of nightmares?
“Antonia?” Yelena gasped, staring at the killer.
The killer tilted her head. “Long time no see, Belova. Oh, forgot to ask. How’s your sister doing these days?”
Pain and fury flashed across Yelena’s face. She only balled her fists and went quiet, but Ava could see a slight golden gleam in her eyes.
Antonia moved her gaze to the others. “I only recognize Shostakov, you old has-been hero. Tell me, have you reclaimed your title? No? I hear you’re driving limos now. What a fall from the Soviet Union’s favorite meat puppet. And you others. Starr and Walker, you’re in my line of work. Hello, dear coworkers! I’ve heard you were pretty decent at our job, too. Shame to see you die. And that leaves Captain America’s boyfriend.”
“I’m not his—” Bucky growled.
“Really? From my perspective, you two were meant to be. Very cute. Val had intel all on your little Flag Smasher escapades. It’s nice to partner with the Power Broker, after all. Walker knows what I’m talking about. Don’t you?”
“God, what happened to being mute?” Yelena muttered.
Antonia fixed her eyes on the blonde again. “And what happened to being a regular person? Did punching and shooting get too boring for you? What, you needed an upgrade? Oh, if only Natasha could see you now—”
“Don’t you dare fucking talk about her—!”
“I can talk about whatever the hell I want. That’s part of the allure of freedom, right? But oh, speaking of freedom, look at us. Only took a few years before we fell right back to doing what we were born to do. Kill for a higher power.” Antonia smiled unpleasantly that came across as more of a snarl. “Father would be so fucking proud of his Widows, wouldn’t he?”
Yelena yelled and leapt at the hitwoman. She managed to punch her once, catching Antonia off guard. But then Antonia’s fist caught her in the stomach. With unnatural strength, she launched her across the room. Yelena landed on the wall with a crack and groaned softly as she slid to the floor.
“YELENA!” Alexei started towards her but stopped, unsure of if Antonia was going to attack him when he was distracted.
“Tech, Ms. Belova!” Antonia laughed, answering Yelena’s moan. “Tech, and a little boost of my own from dear Daddy. Now…” She turned to the rest and pulled out a gun.
“Either you lot come with me nicely,” she hissed, clicking her helmet back across her face, “or I'll force you back to Val.”
“There’s no way in fucking hell!” Walker roared, charging her. He threw his shield at her, but she predicted it and dodged, catching his shield and throwing it back at him. He just nearly missed it.
Shostakov howled, “FEEL THE POWER OF THE RED GUAAAAARDIAAAN!” He ran at her. But his punch was smoothly countered by Antonia.
“Don’t even try that,” she scoffed. Then, without even turning around, she swiftly blocked Bucky.
How is she doing that?
Ava phased towards her, but Antonia again seemed to expect exactly where she’d go, stopping her and kicking her like an American football through the room.
Ava pulled herself off the floor and staggered towards Antonia. But then she stopped. The assassin was deep in a duel with Bucky. But something about it felt…off. Like every hit he threw at her, she had a counter. Even the seemingly spontaneous moves. Almost like she…
She’s somehow managed to memorize our fighting styles. No. Not just memorize. Her talent goes beyond that. Somehow, she knows how we move so accurately that she’s able to react perfectly every time.
But how? Ava squinted. The only time they had managed to get her was the first time Yelena attacked. What was different? She wasn’t using the Sentry powers. The only other thing could be…
Tech.
The helmet. It must be. Ava leapt to her feet. “Get her helmet!”
Antonia snarled and danced away from Bucky, but at the same time Shostakov jumped onto her back and forced her to the floor. Walker helped hold her down as Bucky smashed his metal fist into her mask again and again and again.
Antonia yelled with anger as Bucky peeled off the broken pieces of her mask. She scooted away, spitting, and took out a small plastic button.
“I wasn’t supposed to use this in case it fried her brain,” Antonia panted. “But this situation calls for it.”
“Huh?” Walker looked at her, baffled, but Ava understood with a sinking heart.
Antonia simply pressed the button in reply. Ava whipped her head around at Yelena, with the others following her gaze curiously.
Yelena stirred on the ground.
“…Lena?” Shostakov asked hesitantly.
She turned around. Her face was empty.
Her irises were glowing pure gold.
“Come here, Sentry,” their enemy ordered.
“Shit,” Bucky cursed as the Sentry approached them. She stopped by Antonia.
“Good,” Antonia said. “Now, do you see these freaks?”
The Sentry silently scanned them. Ava held her gaze, mentally begging her to recognize who they were, but Val’s mind control worked too well. She was a machine, really. Not even human anymore.
Come back to us, Yelena.
“You see them?” Antonia continued. She stepped back. “Neutralize them. Do not stop until your mission is completed.”
“Lena, please,” Shostakov begged.
The Sentry’s fist shot out and hit him in the gut. He grunted as he was thrown aside. Walker rushed her, but without even touching him, she hoisted him into the air and threw him away like a rag doll. When he weakly raised his shield from the floor to block her advance, she bent it around his arm like a taco and kicked him away.
Ava phased onto her back, but she calmly smashed her into the wall. Ava felt her grip loosen and her ribs crack as she let go.
Walker stumbled up. “Bucky! Kill her!”
“No!” Ava cried, but Bucky charged forward.
The Sentry grabbed his metal arm. It began to creak and hiss as it popped off his socket. He gasped and stumbled back before she kicked him away.
“Go on, Sentry,” Antonia goaded from the sidelines as they fought her again and again. “Get them.”
Ava tried to phase again, this time to rip the button out of Antonia’s grasp, but the Sentry caught her by the collar, cutting off her windpipe.
“Kill her, Sentry,” Antonia ordered.
“Yelena…” Ava choked. “Lena…please.”
The Sentry narrowed her eyes as she stared into Ava’s brown ones.
“Kill her, Sentry! That’s an order!”
But the Sentry let her go.
“No,” the Sentry replied quietly.
Ava fell to the ground as the others gawked at her.
“No?” Antonia roared. “Fine then.”
She pulled out a gun, flicked off the safety, and pointed it at a still-recovering Ava, who had no energy to phase away. “Then I will.”
But Yelena swooped in then, picking her off her feet.
Walker helped Ava up. “It’s Yelena!” He cried. “She broke free!”
“That is not Lena.” Shostakov’s voice was cold.
“What do you mean?” Walker asked him.
“That is not my Lena,” he repeated, eyes fixed on his old daughter. “Whatever that is, that is not Yelena Belova. She is something else.”
“He’s right,” Ava confirmed. Watching them spiral upward, she had a bad feeling in her stomach. Even though Yelena was doing it to save her, it felt…wrong. Dangerous. “That’s not her…That’s the Sentry.”
The Sentry slammed Antonia into the wall. She radiated golden power, from her irises to her skin. “Don’t touch her. Don’t look at her. Don’t you dare threaten her again.” Though it still kept most of its old aspects, like the accent, her voice seemed a little deeper, more intimidating.
“What—” Antonia’s hands scrabbled uselessly against the Sentry’s arms. “—What the hell—?”
“This is your final warning.” The Sentry pressed tighter, drawing a gasp from Antonia. “Do you understand me? Tell me, do you understand me?”
“Who are you?” Antonia whispered. “Who are you?”
Yelena’s eyes narrowed. “I am the Sentry.”
Her grip tightened more.
“Fear the Sentry. Fear the power of a million suns.”
After a long moment, Antonia nodded. Yelena threw her to the ground. She landed in a heap on the floor.
Yelena turned back, and the gold disappeared from her eyes. She looked normal now. Or at least, as normal as she could while floating and wreathed in golden energy.
“Ava?”
She suddenly flew towards her, grabbing her. “Ava, are you okay?! Are you okay?!”
“I—I’m—”
Suddenly, Yelena moved closer. Ava was first confused at what she was doing, but then—
—Yelena kissed her.
It was like a fire had gone through her body, perhaps caused by Yelena’s residual power still flowing under her skin, or maybe that was just the sensation of kissing a really hot girl. She seemed to scoop Ava into her arms, using just enough of her super strength. Ava grasped the back of her vest, ruffled her fingers through her soft blonde hair. She felt Yelena’s fingers clutching her neck, her hair, her suit.
Ava had never been kissed before. She was too young before her father’s accident, too focused during her S.H.I.E.L.D. training, and too broken afterwards. She’d always thrown herself into work, which was definitely not the type of occupation that was good to share on a date.
So this was alien, but a good kind of alien. The kind of feeling that was strange but not scary, foreign yet comforting. This feeling was all of these things. Yelena was all of these things. Ava felt her strong, gentle warmth all around her and willed her mind to snapshot this moment, to preserve it for as long as she lived, wishing she could make it last forever…
…Killing her just got a whole lot harder.
Yelena came up for air, her lips slightly parted and her eyes regaining a little sparkle of Sentry gold. She looked embarrassed, like she didn’t really mean for that to happen, like she was worried that Ava didn’t want it. Was she worrying about that? Because Ava was sure that her own face only reflected the pure pleasure she experienced at the touch. Before Yelena could really pull away, Ava moved to close the gap again—
“Hey! Lovebirds!” Walker shouted as they collided again. “A little help here?”
Ava wanted nothing more in that moment to watch Yelena sucker-punch Walker through a wall (or better yet—to do it herself). As she felt Yelena draw away, she whipped around, fully meaning to tear him a new asshole for disrupting the one happy thing in her entire fucking life—before she realized that all three of the men were on the floor prone, in various states of injured.
Huh. Maybe the wrong time to rip him to shreds verbally. Maybe later.
Yelena rushed towards them. “I’m so sorry. Are you all okay?” Her face dropped as Bucky and Walker flinched away from her.
But Shostakov began to stumble towards her.
“Lena…my Lena…”
“Alexei! Are you hurt? I’m sorry—”
He managed to get upright and crushed her in another bear hug, which was no small feat for a man who was just punched aside by a million suns. “Lena,” he whispered. “Lena, I’m so happy you’re back. I missed you…”
“I was gone for two seconds! Ayyy, Alexei, that’s enough.” She muscled him away. “Get off me.”
Walker held out his bent shield accusingly. “Look at it! Look!”
Yelena grimaced. “Sorry.”
“You turned my shield into a TACO! BELOVA! COME BACK HERE!”
But she had already moved onto Bucky, giving him his arm back. “I’m sorry. Here you go.”
“Thanks,” he replied, taking it without looking at her.
She cleared her throat. “Are you angry at me?”
He looked up and smiled weakly. “No. It’s okay. You just…you broke my rib.”
Yelena looked sheepish. “I said I was sorry.”
“Hey,” Ava called out, trying to seem in control of the situation when in reality she couldn’t even control her own emotions, “what are we going to do with…with Mel?”
As Walker stumbled up, all five of them looked at Mel’s body.
“She didn’t deserve that,” Yelena said sadly.
Bucky picked up the papers she had stolen for them. “She tried to help us.”
She tried to do the right thing.
It was a gamble that didn’t pay off.
Ava sighed, feeling strangely depressed over the death of a faceless O.X.E. assistant. No, not faceless. They had met. Even talked some. To call her faceless was an insult to her memory and sacrifice. And Ava didn’t want to downplay either of those.
She died trying to fix the world. It’s only fair we make the world right for her, since she couldn’t do it herself.
Walker looked around. “I…I don’t know what to say.”
“I do.”
Ava tensed at Antonia’s voice. She spun around, expecting a bullet, but Antonia dashed up and shot something into the back of Yelena’s neck. She gasped and clawed at it before taking a few unstable steps…and collapsing onto the floor.
“YELENA!” Ava and Shostakov both roared at once. “What did you do?! Did you kill—?!”
“She’s not dead, you insufferable little shits,” Antonia spat. “I’m taking her to New York. It is over. And you lot are coming with me.”
Bucky balled his fists. “And if we refuse?”
“Then your little friend—” Antonia pressed a gun to Ava’s head. She gasped at the sensation of cold metal against the side of her temple. “—is going to go the way of the assistant.”
Fuck. Ava couldn’t decide whether she wanted to live more or to escape from Val. She gasped, trying to phase away, but Antonia stuck something in her arm that made her feel dizzy, weak, and utterly captive.
“Wait!” Walker yelled. He threw off the taco shield and raised his arms. “Don’t shoot. We’ll come.”
No, you idiot!
The other two followed suit, which made Ava want to scream if she didn’t feel so sick. Either scream, cry, or maybe check Yelena, who was still unresponsive on the floor.
Ava was the first one to get the handcuffs, which were clearly made of something high-tech that didn’t allow her to phase. She thought maybe the boys had a plan to attack Antonia when she came to cuff them, but clearly the idiots had no plan at all, not even Bucky, because they just let the bitch slap reinforced metal on their wrists and parade them all out of the bunker like forlorn circus animals.
Ava wanted to punch something so bad.
Antonia threw Yelena over like a sack of potatoes and grinned.
“Off to Val, then? Don’t take it personally, dears. It’s just for a paycheck. I’m sure you understand.”
The bad part was, Ava did understand. All part of the job, after all. No hard feelings when in the line of work that was cleanup crew.
Ava stared into the distance and tried to work up some sort of master plan to get them all out. But she couldn’t. All she could feel was hopelessness.
Val was not going to let them go easily.
We…lost.
Notes:
RIP Mel. You were a legend. Now that end note will haunt my chapters forevermore
Yes Ava would obsess over getting kissed for four paragraphs and I stand by that
“I am the Sentry. Fear the Sentry. Fear the power of a million suns.” *mic drop*
Chapter 11: Not Alone
Notes:
I wrote and edited this late yesterday, in case y’all wanted to know how I spent my Friday night 😅
Now introducing Bob Reynolds in a chapter that definitely didn’t make me tear up a little because I’m too emotional. Not at all. (If you guys ever wanted to know the tragic backstory of the cucumber line, here you go.)
Nothing’s going to happen in this chapter except for feelings, sorry. Expect your regular helping of lesbian angst with superpowers to resume shortly
(TRIGGER WARNING: Explicit and implied child abuse, starting from the beginning flashback!! Like before in Chapter 6, prioritize yourself! I will be happy to explain what happens in the chapter if you ask in the comments! Obligatory fuck you to Mr. Reynolds and Dreykov here. I hate those assholes)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The little boy huddles in a cabinet, trying to stifle a sneeze.
The teacher told him once that if you repeat a word enough times, focusing on it, you’ll eventually make the sneeze go away.
Cucumber, cucumber, cucumber, cucumber.
He picks his favorite vegetable. He doesn’t have it often because Daddy knows he likes them, but he likes the sound of the name, and the taste.
Daddy told him to make no noises, even sneezing. And Daddy is in one of his rages, so the little boy tries to obey his orders.
He knows what happens when he fails Daddy.
Cucumber, cucumber, cucumber, cucumber.
Stay quiet, stay quiet. That’s the motto of this little boy, because when it comes to Daddy, the little boy knows it’s best if he just disappears. Most of the time this disappearing happens in the attic, where he often goes when Daddy and Mommy are fighting again. He found a Rubix Cube there once, one of the toys Daddy forgot to throw away when he had one of his previous rages. When he plays with the Rubix Cube, he can almost block out Mommy screaming.
He tried to help her a few times, but Daddy got really, really angry, and the little boy couldn’t sleep well for a week.
Cucumber, cucumber, cucumber, cucumber.
He’s repeating this word, but it’s not working. He still feels the sneeze coming. He tries to stop it, but it’s like trying to stop Daddy when he gets mad. It’s impossible.
He sneezes. It’s soft, but it’s enough. He hears footsteps and freezes.
The cabinet door opens and Daddy’s face appears. Daddy is a scary man that the little boy doesn’t like to describe. Daddy is like living alongside a hurricane with fists. Daddy tried to mold his son in his image and always gets angry when the little boy doesn’t turn out like him.
“YOU FUCKING IDIOT, BOBBY!” Daddy catches him by the arm when he tries to shrink away and roughly pulls him out. “WHAT DID I SAY?! WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY?! I SAID TO BE QUIET WHEN I’M RELAXING, RIGHT?!”
The little boy can smell the alcohol on his breath. Daddy isn’t very nice when he’s sober, but Daddy when drunk is much worse.
Daddy’s fist hits him in the tummy. He doubles over, gasping.
Don’t cry, don’t cry.
But he can’t stop himself from feeling the tears drip down his cheeks.
“Are you fucking CRYING?” Daddy hisses. He hits him on the eye. “Real men don’t fucking cry, Bobby! You’re such a fucking weakling! DID YOU HEAR ME? I—SAID—REAL—MEN—DON’T—CRY—!”
Every word is emphasized with a hit. The little boy is trying to stop but how can he stop crying when he hurts all over? His inability to make Daddy happy only makes him cry more, which in turn worsens the punishment.
Stop it, stop it. I don’t want to relieve this again. Please.
Daddy stops. His voice is dripping with a disappointment that’s somehow even worse than the hitting, because all the little boy wants to do is make him happy.
“Fucking weak.”
Daddy is right. The little boy is weak. The little boy can’t stop him from hurting Mommy. The little boy can’t stop him from hurting his son. The little boy can’t even stop him from hurting himself with alcohol.
I always make everything worse. Always make everything worse. Always make everything worse.
The little boy manages to get up while dodging further blows. “I’m not fucking done with you, Bobby!” Daddy yells after him, but he doesn’t care. He collapses in the attic (his little room isn’t safe enough) and curls up and lets himself cry.
Daddy wants him to be a real man. That must be why he demonstrates what a real man is to his family. But the little boy will never be a real man. He will never beat women, or anyone, actually, because he just doesn’t see why he should. He will never force any kid to stay home from school until the bruising becomes less noticeable because he likes school (even if no one likes him), because he’s away from Daddy. He will never scare the neighbors into giving their house a wide berth because all the little boy wishes for is friends.
Mommy wants him to disappear. Not die, probably, or run away. But just fade into the background while her and Daddy fight and while he gets into a rage. Before he was born, she actually wanted the little boy to be someone like Captain America. Strong and able to save her. Sometimes when Daddy is out with his assistant, she pulls up some old Captain America propaganda videos to show him. But the little boy was born a weakling, and since he can’t save them, since he only makes everything worse for them, now Mommy only wants him to fade away.
But Bob doesn’t want either of these things.
He only wants to stop hurting.
He just wants to be happy.
—
Mel was cremated.
She had no family to invite to a funeral, no one to help spread her ashes.
So that’s how Valentina Allegra de Fontaine got to a remote mountain forest at a freezing 5:00 A.M. to spread her assistant around in the dirt.
She had to die.
She knew too much. She had betrayed me.
She was going to ruin me.
But still, Val felt her death weigh on her like no other. Maybe the girl was finally starting to grow on her. She had her faults, but she’d always hoped Mel would pull through her loyalty crisis for the betterment of O.X.E. Corp.
But no, she just had to go see the ticking time bomb in a vest and her band of merry misfits to give them top-secret information.
Really, she caused her own death, Val told herself.
She opened the box of Mel dust and cleared her throat.
“Ahem. Dear Mel. Please don’t haunt me. I hope you’re happy wherever traitors go when they finally kick the bucket. As you can see, I’m not very good at this funeral respecting-the-dead crap, but it was either me or Antonia Dreykov, and I think you’d hate me a little less than your actual murderer. Really wish you hadn’t gone over to the Sentry’s side. Shame. We could’ve built something truly great.”
She began to pace around with the Mel-in-a-box. “And you failed, anyway. Yep. You failed. I got my little murder puppy back, and the rest are awaiting their own punishments. Don’t worry, theirs won’t be nearly as quick as yours. Ugh. You were slightly endearing, I must admit. Now I’ll have to get a new assistant.”
Val shook around the Mel-but-in-fragments and frowned at it. “Stop looking at me like that. You’re dust. And unlike the Blip, this one’s permanent.”
She sighed, composed herself, and stuck her hand in the box of Mel. Ugh. Disgusting, touching human remains like that. She should’ve brought gloves.
She began to spread the Mel-ness out into the forest, watching the ashes fall like snow.
But suddenly, she wasn’t seeing ashes anymore. She was seeing a young woman standing before her with a tablet and a shy smile. Dark hair and eyes and skin. Sheepish and kinda adorable and very, very much alive. With a sinking feeling, she knew the sight of this girl would haunt her for the rest of her days.
She looked back at the ashes and gagged.
What was wrong with her?
What was that feeling?
After some thinking, Val finally recognized it.
It was regret.
—
Ava.
Yelena surged up off the bed in the containment cell. She looked around, searching for them. Ava, Alexei, even Bucky and Walker. Where were they? Dead? Hurt? Locked up in a cell much like this one?
I should’ve known Antonia was going to do that. I should’ve stopped her, been a little faster…
She looked down and realized with horror that she was wearing a brand-new Sentry suit, right down to the giant metal S symbol on the waist belt.
Oh, fuck.
“Um…hey there?”
She started and peered over at the cell next to hers.
It was a man. He didn’t look like he was feeling very well. His dark hair was limp, his eyes were glassy, and his hands were shaking, but he smiled at her, and she tried to return the favor as best as she could.
She mumbled back, “Hi.”
“Uh…I’m Bob. Who are…?”
She really didn’t have time to talk to Bob. Or did she? She was trapped, after all. “I’m Yelena.”
“Oh. That’s nice. Why are you here?”
She wondered how long he was in his cell, if he had no idea about the Project Sentry fiasco. “I’m a mess Val keeps having to clean up. I’m…the Sentry.”
Something dawned in his eyes. “Ohhh. Yeah. I signed up for something like that. Project Sentry. Make yourself better, right? But they let me go. Something about medical issues. Said they had a better candidate to take my place.” He snapped. “Hey! I bet that was you! How did it go?”
“What? You were part of Project Sentry?” Yelena’s heart began to race. Let go? What if he wasn’t? What if he was tested on as well? What if this random Bob guy was another Sentry?
She peered on his cell and managed to decipher a paper taped to it. It reminded her of the shelter where she had adopted Fanny from, with the forms taped to the shelter dogs’ cage doors. But instead of Champs, Golden Retriever, very good boi, it read:
ROBERT REYNOLDS
Potential candidate for PROJECT SENTRY
Status: Untested on. Released from candidate list because of mental history and replacement (spot given to Y. Belova)
Please advise on removal
Huh. So I did replace him. And he’s a normal person. A normal person marked for death, from the looks of it, but aren’t we all?
“Yelena?” He looked at her curiously. “You okay?”
“Yes.” It was a lie, but she didn’t want to explain everything. “How’d you get into Project Sentry?”
He laughed mirthlessly. “Ah, fuck it. I’m only here because of a meth addiction.”
“You’re a meth addict?”
He tensed, like he was expecting a blow for some reason. “Sorry. Did that scare you? I don’t usually talk about it. I swear I’m not dangerous.”
He honestly didn’t look strong enough to hurt a fly, but Yelena wasn’t cruel enough to tell him that, so she held up her hands. “No, it’s fine. I understand addiction. I’m…” She also didn’t like talking about her own problems, but he had opened up to her, so why not? “I’m an alcoholic.”
He flinched. “Really?”
“Well, now it’s my turn to worry if I offended you.”
“No, you didn’t! I just…” He sighed. “Sorry. My dad was an alcoholic.”
She felt a bad feeling in her stomach. “What happened, Bob?”
“He wasn’t…he wasn’t…very nice. I guess I’m still jumpy.”
“My dad wasn’t the greatest either,” Yelena admitted. “He sold me and my big sister into Russian murder child slavery when I was six.”
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “No wonder you’re an alcoholic. That’s way worse than mine. Mine only beat me, haha.”
He noticed her expression of shock and seemed to try to backtrack, trying to make it seem less than it was. “I mean, it wasn’t that bad. It’s not really something you should pity me for. I mean…I lived.”
“Bob, I’m so sorry for you.”
He shrugged, which broke her heart. “I’m fine.”
He clearly was not fine. Yelena was not fine either. She had a strange urge to stab his father in the gut.
No one should ever hurt kids. Ever. “Well, at least my dad got better. Turns out that, under all the radicalization and propaganda, he’s actually halfway to a decent person. It only took a gulag to sort him out.”
Bob laughed. “A gulag? You sound like you’ve been through some adventures.”
She smiled. “Yeah. Along with my sister.”
“Oh. Was she nice?”
“Yes. She was…Natasha Romanoff.”
He gasped. “Wait, you’re the little sister of an Avenger? That’s so cool. Wait…” He seemed to remember something, and his face fell. “Oh no. I just remembered that she died. God, I’m so sorry for you. That must’ve hurt.”
“I got better,” she lied. “Have you?”
“Huh?”
“All I know about you is that you’re a meth addict, and that you have an abusive piece of shit as a sperm donor. He’s on my hit list now, by the way. Where can I find him?”
“Prison,” Bob replied casually.
“For what?”
He shifted and looked away from her. “He got weird with a kid, I think. Honestly, I don’t remember.”
She had a very bad feeling that he did remember, that he couldn’t forget. But she decided to drop it. No use dragging out old traumas.
It wasn’t like Dreykov was a saint in that regard either, to be fair. There was a lot an old creep like him could do when a girl such as Yelena was mind-controlled and unable to fight back against him. Things happened in shadowy rooms that she never was going to ever tell Nat. Sometimes, she wished she did, but it was too late and too painful.
Her and Bob might’ve had more in common than she thought.
“Hey.” She huddled up against the glass separating them. “I’m sorry.”
He seemed to relax. “It’s okay. Me too.”
“So, you were part of Project Sentry, Bob? How far did you get?”
“They let me go before I could start the testing.”
“How long have you been down here?”
He sighed. “Gee, I dunno. They kept me here even from before they let me go from the program. About a month or two, maybe?”
Yelena felt rage bubble up in her on behalf of a man she didn’t even know existed more than two minutes ago. “A month?”
“Yeah. What happened? Some sort of medical thing?”
“They lied about what they did. I was the only one that survived. They turned me into a monster, Bob. Believe me, you’re lucky that you didn’t go through it.”
He stared into her eyes. “Did they hurt you?”
“Yeah,” she answered steadily, holding his gaze.
He clenched his fists. “Listen, I know I don’t really even know you, Yelena, but can I please kill de Fontaine for you?”
She actually laughed. “No, I get first dibs. You get to have what’s left, though.”
He smiled. It was a sad smile, but a genuine one, one that made her smile back. “Deal.”
They fell silent for a minute.
“Do you think we’re gonna die?” Bob finally asked.
Yelena sighed. “I have no idea.”
He shifted. “Well, if we will, then at least it’ll be nice to have a friend with me.”
She looked at him strangely. It took her a minute to figure out he was talking about her. “Bob…I barely even know you.”
“Sorry.” He seemed to shrink away. “Did I make you uncomfortable again? Always making things worse...”
“Hey. Don’t say that.” She pressed her nose against the glass. “Tell me a bit about yourself.”
He seemed to light up. “Really? No one’s asked me to do that before.”
“Yeah. I want a friend too.”
He lay down against the barrier. “My name is Bob Reynolds. My favorite color is yellow. My favorite vegetable is cucumbers. I love cats and reading. When I was little, I wanted to be a superhero. I loved Captain America. I used to draw my dream man in an old sketchbook and hide it from my dad. I love spring, and gardening. It keeps me sane. I absolutely hate horror movies but will happily watch a romance or musical. I just want to be happy.” He looked at her. “Now you go.”
She smiled. “My name is Yelena Belova. My favorite color is green. I hate vegetables, but my comfort food is mac-and-cheese. I love dogs and exploring new places. When I was little, I wanted to be a vet because I thought it sounded cool and I love animals. I’ve met the former two-day Captain America; he sucks. I used to think about my dream girl and a normal lifestyle at the Red Room to help me fall asleep at night. I love winter and playing in the snow. It keeps me alive. I hate any sort of jumpscare movie but I have a soft spot for fantasy and sci-fi. And I just want to be happy, too.”
“Look at that,” he joked. “We’re so alike.”
“Mmm-hmm. I bet Val doesn’t want her prisoners to bond over favorite colors and movie genres, though.”
“She can’t stop us.” He looked at her again. “Are you okay? Seriously.”
She sighed and decided to tell the truth. “No. I’m not okay. Everything’s going wrong, Bob. My friends are god knows where. Probably already dead. I can’t control my power. And I feel so…bad. All the time.”
“I get it,” he said softly. “I know that feeling. That feeling of…emptiness. Sadness. Like a…”
“…A void?” She asked.
“Yeah.” He looked down at his shaking hands. “Some days I feel really great. Other days, I feel like…like complete shit. Sometimes it gets so bad I want to…”
“I’ve thought about doing…it…too,” she admitted.
“I’m sorry. Just…and I’m sure you’ve felt it too…but do you ever feel, just, like, really…alone?”
“Every day.” She pressed her hand to the glass. “But you’re not alone.”
“Neither are you,” he replied, touching his to the glass too, against hers.
Somehow this small gesture by two trapped, broken people felt like the most human thing Yelena had done. She’d been able to really feel without fear of him rejecting or using it against her. He had done that as well.
Walker was annoyance. Bucky was protection. Ava was love. Natasha was pain. Alexei was…a lot of feelings. So was Melina.
But Bob?
Bob felt like…safety.
“You’re not alone,” Yelena repeated. Because, for some reason, she had to tell this guy, this hurting yet still friendly prisoner, that he had a friend with him. She had to get through to him that he wasn’t by himself. Even in death.
Because she really needed someone, too.
She pressed her back against the glass.
“I’m here,” she whispered.
Bob sighed and pressed his back against the barrier as well. They created a strange contrast. Blonde girl in a golden superhero costume. Dark-haired boy in gray prisoner clothing. Both still young, hurting little children inside, who understood the other’s pain. Both staring at each other over their shoulders. Still holding their hands against each other. She was never comfortable with being this vulnerable before, but now she didn’t mind it.
Maybe, when you were about to die, you only wanted to feel human. Even just one last time.
I’m here.
Notes:
God I wish I had artistic talent
Bob and Yelena my sweet little children I cannot let anyone hurt you two anymore* 🥹 they trauma bond in every universe
*Except for me. I can still hurt you, sorry. Author’s privilege :D
Chapter 12: Dreykov’s Daughter
Notes:
See guys, I actually don’t hate Toni :D
Shorter chapter today, sorry! I have to set some things up
AND YES THE GIRLS WOULD WAKE UP THINKING ABOUT EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEY’RE SAPPY LESBIANS
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Yelena.
Ava grit her teeth and tried to phase through the regular metal bars again, but no luck. Whatever Antonia had shot into her had longer lasting effects than she liked.
She slid against the wall, exhausted.
From two cells down, she could hear Walker yell in frustration as he rammed his shoulder as hard as he could into his bars again and again.
“It’s no use,” Bucky called out. “We’re stuck here. We can’t break them with super strength, and Ava can’t phase.”
“Why can’t you phase?” Walker asked.
“I have no idea,” she replied, too tired to respond with a quip.
Shostakov finally gave up on trying to wrench the bars open with one last howl. “Yelena! Yelena, where are you?!”
“Sounds like quite a pickle you lot are in.”
They all snapped up to see Antonia standing there with an absurdly smug grin on her face.
“You,” Walker snarled.
Antonia flicked out a knife and began to play around with it. “Again, Walker, it’s not personal. It’s just a job.”
“You do know you’re in danger too, right, you fucking—” Ava growled, leaping at the bars.
Antonia cut her off with a harsh laugh. “I’m in danger? To the contrary, Starr. I just became Val’s most valuable agent.”
But Bucky caught on. “You know too much, though.”
Antonia frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
He leaned against the barrier calmly. “You know about Mel. You know about what really happened with Project Sentry. Hell, you know that Val pays you to shoot people and make sensitive information disappear.”
“She’d never off me, though,” Antonia argued back, but Ava could see a hint of fear in her eyes. “I’m too important to her.”
“I thought that too,” Walker chimed in.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, but you see, I’m actually important to her.”
He crossed his arms. “Then why weren’t you sent to the lab, if you’re so much better than us?”
Antonia opened her mouth, but then hesitated.
Walker sensed her weakness. “You’re the backup agent, admit it. Ava and I were more valuable to her than you, but we blew it, so now she has to fall back on her Plan B. That’s you.”
“I’d…” Antonia balled her fists. “I’d never betray her, though. She gave me a home. A purpose…”
“Does Val know that?” Ava asked quietly. “Because she thinks we’re her dangerous little puppets. As soon as she forces Yelena back under her control, she’s going to send the Sentry after us. Clean up the cleanup crew. Leave her hands clean so no one can target her.”
Antonia was silent for a little bit. “No,” she finally hissed. “You’re making things up. You’re bluffing.”
Shostakov moved forward. “Antonia. Listen.”
She turned to him and fell quiet.
“I have been lied to for…many many years,” he began. “I have done many bad things. I have helped people like your papa do bad things. After that I felt lost feeling…”
“Never become a therapist,” Walker muttered.
But Alexei continued. “Antonia, I understand what it feels like to feel angry. To hurt. But you can change.”
“What can change?” Her voice was little more than a whisper now. “You’re locked up again and I can’t stop killing. You and your wretched fake wife made us like this. Your shitty older daughter who dropped a bomb on me made me like this. I hate your fucking family, Shostakov. You and your people hurt me.”
“Dreykov hurt you,” Alexei replied in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. “Antonia, I remember you when you were small girl. You were so kind.”
Antonia frowned. “But you were locked up. How…” Then her eyes widened. “Oh. Dad made me visit the gulag. I remember. It was dingy and scary. I hated it there…”
“So did I,” he replied quietly.
Antonia’s eyes flicked between their faces as her lower lip trembled. Ava suddenly realized she was younger. Early twenties, probably. She reminded her of Yelena…no, of herself, too.
All little girls that were forced to grow up.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore,” she mumbled.
“Then don’t,” Ava said. “You don’t have to be like this.”
Alexei pressed himself against the bars. “Antonia. If Valentina gets Lena, she will turn her into her own Taskmaster. We will lose her like we lost you. Please. Please help us.”
Antonia hesitated, then sighed and took out a button. She clicked it, and the locks beeped and turned from red to green. Unlocked.
She glared at Alexei. “I’m only helping you to stop Valentina, Shostakov, because I don’t want anyone to force your daughter to become a machine like me. But this isn’t over.”
“Thank you, Antonia,” he said.
Bucky leapt up. “Do you know where she’s keeping Yelena?”
Antonia narrowed her eyes. “She calls it the Labyrinth. It’s a maze of containment cells and small labs. That’s where she kept the test subjects for Project Sentry. I have a map.”
“Good.” Bucky pointed at Walker. “John, you take her map and go find Yelena.”
“Wait, why him?” Ava cried. “I want to go, I want to—”
“Because he’s still in control of his super strength! We don’t know why you can’t phase…”
Antonia shrugged. “I shot some nanotech into her. It should wear off in about a day or so. Val designed it as a temporary cure.”
Ava nearly fell to her knees.
A cure.
Val managed to design a cure, but she never told me.
She wanted to keep her secret agent.
“Well, we don’t have a day to wait around for your nanotech to wear off,” Bucky snapped. “Val could take Yelena any minute. Ava, Alexei, Antonia—we’re all going to hunt down Val. John—try to find our weapons.”
He nodded. “How will I know how to find you guys, though?”
“If we find Val, I’m sure she’ll have some sort of warning system to call her guards. You should be able to find them and follow them to us that way.”
“This is a really bad plan,” John muttered, but he took Antonia’s paper map, glanced at it, then left quickly through one of the exits.
Bucky turned back to them. “Okay. Are we ready?”
Ava and Antonia nodded as Alexei yelled, “YES! WE GO TO BUST THE EVIL WOMAN! BE THE HEROES WE ALL NEED! THE HEROES ON THE WHEATIES—!”
“Alexei, shut up,” Bucky groaned.
“We go this way,” Antonia said, pointing at one of the other exits. “This is the quickest way. Follow me.”
As the four of them steeled themselves and entered the dimly lit tunnel, Ava grit her teeth and forced herself to soldier up.
Hang in there, Yelena. John’s coming to find you. We’ll save you. I love you. Please, hold out for me.
I’m going after Val for you.
Notes:
Of course this plan’s going to go amazing!
Right?
…Right?
Chapter 13: Labyrinth
Notes:
When Yelena has an opportunity to be a little shit, she takes it
EDIT (September 3rd) — Forgot to mention the “Widow zzt-zzt bite things”, which are very important (mainly because of the cool factor. Never underestimate the cool factor)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
After a little while, Bob Reynolds managed to fall asleep. Yelena could hear his slow, gentle breathing on the other side of her.
With him calmed down, her thoughts returned to her predicament. And also—
Ava. She had managed to push away thoughts of her, but now they came back in full force. What was she thinking, kissing her? That was easy. She loved her and was terrified that she got hurt. It was the heat of the moment.
That was also the scary part. Everyone she loved ended up dead. Dead or betraying her. She trusted Ava wholeheartedly, even with her usual reservations. If she were to stab her in the back or die, it would completely break her.
I have to find Ava.
But how? Yelena scanned the room outside of her containment cell. There was an illuminated exit, but that was of no help to her unless she was able to open the door. Besides, she had to save Bob as well. They were going to kill him! He would probably save her, anyway. Even though it was going to be more work for her…
There were very few times in her life where she actually halfway wished that the Red Room had beat all the good out of her.
This was one of those times.
She got up and began to pace. How to escape, how to escape. Maybe she would be able to break out using the powers of the Sentry, but that might risk some kind of alarm. Besides, being like that kind-of terrified her. Something about all that fury surging inside of her made her worry that she wasn’t going to be able to come back from it.
If only there was such a thing as a knight in shining armor to save—
As if on cue, a sweating and frantic-looking John Walker burst in with a large plastic bag on one arm and his taco-shield on the other.
Huh. Not the knight in shining armor she was expecting, but he would definitely work.
He rushed to the glass. “Yelena.”
“John!” She pressed her hands against it. “Where are Ava and the others?”
“Finding Val. We have to meet up with them.” He studied the glass. “Ah, this is going to be difficult. Stand back and hang on.”
He sighed, carefully aimed his shield, and smashed it into the glass in a quick, sharp motion.
A tiny crack formed as a loud siren began to blare. Yelena shrunk away from the noise as John muttered under his breath, “Fuck.”
Bob woke up with a start. “Y—Yelena? What’s going on?!”
“Who’s this guy?” John asked.
“Okay, Bob, this is John. John, this is my new friend Bob. We have to save him, or else he’s going to die.”
“Fuck!” John yelled. “Gah! Fine! But this glass is some of the most reinforced glass I’ve ever seen. This is going to take forever to—”
“Stand back,” Yelena ordered. When he stumbled away, she shattered the glass easily with one light punch.
“Whoa,” both men said in awe as they stared at her.
She shrugged as she stepped out. “Perks of the Sentry Project. Any way to disable this alarm?”
“I’d have to find the panel. I bet it’s here somewhere—”
“Hey, you there! Halt! Sentry! The Sentry—she’s out!”
“Let’s put a pin in that,” Yelena growled, readying herself for battle as five heavily armed guards burst into the room.
“Yeah. That’s a good idea.” John hefted up his shield.
The guards stared at Yelena and John, not daring to make the first move, as Bob leaned against the glass. The Sentry and former Captain America against five heavily armed guards. Then again, it wasn’t as though Yelena and John were powerless.
Suddenly, one yelled and unleashed a flood of bullets.
“DUCK!” Yelena yelled, throwing John to the floor. She grunted as she felt the bullets hit her suit, but it must’ve been made of bulletproof material, because she wasn’t hurt and the suit still looked good as new.
Well wasn’t that a bad idea, Val.
She leapt up and grabbed the guard, slamming him to the ceiling as John staggered up. Two rushed him at the same time, but he sliced his shield into their heads.
Another one dug out something like a walkie-talkie. “Requesting assistance!” He screamed into it. “Requesting assistance in the Sentry room! HELP—”
Yelena threw her hand out into the air. The guard was lifted up by seemingly nothing, dropping his communication device with a yelp. She smashed him into the wall and let him crumple to the floor. She then stepped on the device. No help for them.
John finished beating his shield into the last guard with a yell and looked up at her.
“Find the panel,” they both said at once. They scurried to opposite sides of the room. Yelena slid her hands along the walls. Panel, panel, panel…
She could hear John murmuring as he ran his hands over the smooth surface, “Please be a secret panel, please be a secret panel, please be a secret panel…yes!”
She looked over at his side as a hidden panel popped open, filled with multicolored wires.
She ran over there. “Okay, hold on, I can disarm this—”
He grunted and used his shield like a scoop to rip out the mess of wires. The power cut out along with the alarm.
“Or that works, I hope,” Yelena amended. John clicked on a flashlight, and Yelena used it to find her way to Bob’s cell and smash it open.
“Thanks,” he replied shakily, stumbling out.
“No problem.” She frowned down at the Sentry costume. “Wish this wasn’t so vibrant. It reflects any sort of light…”
“I can fix that.” John pulled out a suit and some weapons from his bag. “Was this your cleanup crew suit? It was on a hook under your name.”
She took it gently. A thick, dark gray jumpsuit with padding, dark boots, and black fingerless gloves. She moved over to the weapons: a handgun, a knife, and her two old batons and matching Widow bites. “Yes. Thank you, John.”
“No problem.” He looked away and steered Bob to the wall. “We’re, uh…we’re just gonna give you some privacy, you know…to change.”
They huddled against the wall like she was violently murdering a dog and not simply changing suits.
She rolled her eyes as the Sentry suit dropped to the floor. She was going to ask them to turn around anyway, but she thought their reaction was overdramatic. “You two make it so weird.”
“We’re trying to be nice!” John protested, covering his eyes with one hand.
“What is so terrifying?” Yelena teased, sliding on the jumpsuit. “I guess we’re just more relaxed in Europe?”
“Maybe,” Bob peeped, face pressed flat against the wall.
She finished zipping up the collar, leaving a little space open for comfort. “Okay, I’m decent. Stop avoiding me.”
They turned around in relief as she slipped the gun and the knife in their sheaths and slid the batons securely onto her back. John scooped up the Sentry costume and stuffed it into his bag.
“Don’t want to leave that behind. It could come in handy,” he explained in answer to Yelena’s curious look. “But now we’re as set as we can be. Hopefully, as long as we duck our heads, we’ll look too inconspicuous to attract attention. Especially with the power out.”
“Great,” Yelena replied. “Bob, follow us. John, I hope you know where you’re going.”
“Uh…” He shifted uncomfortably. “…Yeah.”
She sighed in exasperation. “That was not a comforting reply, John.”
He sighed. “Well, we’ll just have to wait until they find Val. She’ll probably set off some sort of alarm. That’s how we’ll find them.”
She stared at him.
“Yeah. Great idea. One small problem—you cut the power.”
He threw up his hands. “Look, that was the plan!”
“That’s a shit plan!”
“It’s not my fault Val decided to have a fucking panel in a containment room!”
“YOU STILL—” She controlled herself and breathed in deeply. “You know what? It’s okay. It’s okay. All we have to do is wander until we find a spot with power. Hopefully, by that time, they would’ve found Val and activated an alarm.”
“This seems really dangerous,” Bob mumbled nervously.
“I agree with your new friend,” John chimed in.
She turned to them, irritated. “I’m sorry, do either of you have a better idea?”
Since neither of them did, they marched off towards the hallways. Though John often got on her nerves, Yelena was grateful for him grabbing her dark uniform and weapons. If they ducked their heads and hid John’s shield, they could almost blend into the shadowy walls.
“How did you find us?” Yelena whispered as they slipped through the hallway.
“I have a map,” John answered. “Antonia gave it to me.”
“You’re working with Antonia Dreykov? She’s the reason we’re all in this situation in the first place!”
“She had a change of heart.”
“And you’re certain we can trust her?”
“Look, I’m not even sure we can trust you,” he snapped back.
Yelena lowered her eyes to the floor. It stung, but he had a point. She wasn’t going to betray them, but how could they know that? Especially with the Void problem, which she couldn’t even control.
John eyed her and seemed to lose his fire. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really mean that.”
“Of course you did. But I’m not bitter. I’ve known you for, what, three days? I don’t trust you either. But we’re going to have to, if we want to get out of here.”
His face suddenly cracked into a mischievous grin.
“Seems like you trust Ava, though…”
Yelena felt herself go bright red. “Shut up.”
“We all saw you too make out. Very dramatic. Romantic, too, I guess—”
“If you don’t stop talking right now, I’m going to punch you with the power of a million suns.”
He stopped talking, but he still had that infuriatingly smug smile plastered on his stupid face, and she was honestly debating punching him anyway when she noticed a slightly open door.
She stopped and pointed. “What’s that?”
John peered at it. “Where I got our weapons. Damnit, I forgot to close the door all the way.”
She slipped inside.
“Yelena?” She heard John from behind her. “What’re you doing?”
“Looking for something,” she replied, squinting her eyes to try to see better in the dim light. She guessed that she probably had some sort of night vision now as the Sentry, but she didn’t feel safe experimenting with it. “John. Flashlight.”
He clicked on the flashlight and joined her, Bob following behind him. “What is it?”
“Looking for Mel’s files, if Antonia dumped everything here. Ooh!” She noticed her vest and grabbed it, turning to John and holding it out. “We need to save this too.”
He didn’t even bother asking why, just sighed and opened his bag. “Shove it in here with the Sentry costume. Also, you won’t find the files here. Val probably confiscated them.”
Damn you, Antonia Dreykov!
“Worth a try,” she replied, trying not to show her disappointment.
Suddenly, a siren blared through the compound, causing Bob and Yelena to jump and John to ready his shield.
“Guess Val got the power to work,” Yelena whispered.
“And that the others found her,” John reminded her. “If we can find some guards, we can follow them and—”
Suddenly they heard the squeal of mic feedback. They all looked at each other, confused. Was Val going to make an announcement over the PA system?
But then they heard the shrill scream of a woman in pain, and Yelena’s heart began to pound faster.
That wasn’t Val.
No, she knew that scream.
A scream that activated her protective and scared side, that set off the power of the Sentry inside her.
Ava.
Notes:
Little love letter to Yelena’s Thunderbolts* uniform for cleanup crew, because I just think it looks amazing and is so funny that she:
1. Bought The Vest
2. Gave The Vest to her sister as a good luck charm
3. Basically modeled her entire cleanup crew uniform after The Vest
I just know it has a shit ton of hidden pockets.Also, who’s excited for Thunderbolts* to come out on Disney+?? I’m getting ready to become a hermit and rewatch it until the end of time lol
Chapter 14: Monster In The Mirror
Notes:
Complete a mission without fighting challenge: impossible
Protective Sentrylena my beloved
Also told you you’d see that chapter name again lol
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
For most of the mission, Ava thought it was honestly very boring. It consisted of walking through the tunnels, listening to Bucky mutter and Alexei basically give away their location for all to hear, and trying not to worry about Yelena too much.
But it was impossible to not worry. God, fuck love. It was a stupid anxiety-inducing feeling she was better off without. She missed back when she didn’t care about anything except getting a cure.
The cure.
A temporary one, but still. Could she take it every day? Why hadn't she known about this sooner?
Of course, she knew why. Sly slippery snake.
When I find you Val, you better pray to your fucking god.
But then why develop a cure in the first place, if she was never going to share it?
“Ava!” Bucky yelled in her ear. She jumped.
“What the fuck, Bucky?!”
He growled impatiently. “I asked you twice already.”
“Asked me what?”
Alexei looked over. “Something about socks.”
“No, I didn’t say anything about fucking socks.” Bucky sighed. “I was asking you if this place looked familiar at all to you. If you’ve seen it before or something.”
“No. I never went here. Apparently there were at least two Sentry labs, because John and I found out about the Malaysia one through Yelena’s paperwork, but Val never even told us any of these existed.” Ava narrowed her eyes at him. “Isn’t that why we have Antonia helping us?”
Bucky glanced at Antonia and fell back so only Ava could hear him. “I don’t trust her.”
“It was your idea to listen to her in the first place!”
“Because she’s our only way out! I just wanted to know if we had a…a backup plan.”
“You basically positioned yourself as leader, so you get to play fucking leader,” Ava snapped. “What’s our backup plan, leader?”
“Don’t be an ass. I was just wondering if you had any idea—”
“Hey.” Antonia was staring at them quizzically. “What’re you two chatting about?”
“Nothing,” Bucky replied quickly.
“Hmmm. You know, I have the very rare talent to tell when someone hates me.”
“We don’t hate you,” Alexei said, but Ava crossed her hands. Why lie to her? It wasn’t like they were trying very hard.
“Look, you’re the reason why we’re here anyway.”
“And now I’m leading you to Val.”
“So?” Ava threw her hands in the air. “You might’ve caused our deaths and Yelena’s capture!”
“We’re all going to die eventually,” Antonia replied roughly. “That won’t change.”
Ava frowned at her. “Well now you just made it grim. I know everyone dies. But I definitely don’t want to kick the bucket now.”
“Guys, stop fighting already,” Bucky growled. “We get it! Antonia’s an asshole for bringing us here! Ava, guess what? You’re an asshole for working for Val in the first place!”
“This is a terrible pep talk,” Ava hissed.
But Bucky pressed on. “We’re all assholes and we’re all losers. That’s kinda our thing. So for fuck’s sake, work together a little bit or else we’re all going to die!”
“Hey friends?” Alexei popped up. “Not to interrupt wonderful pep talk, but door says ‘Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine’s office’. We should go there?”
“At least try to act like a team,” Bucky snarled before banging down the locked door.
This feels a little too easy.
Val was sitting in a chair with her back to them, fiddling around with a stupid computer display.
“We found you, Val,” Ava called out. “It’s over.”
Val slowly turned around with an unreadable expression. What was going on in that head of hers? Ava longed to pry it open and extract her thoughts. Was she accepting defeat? Planning something? Surprised? Expecting it? The inability to read the situation like she usually could enraged Ava.
Val’s eye lingered on Antonia. “It seems like all kinds of my people are betraying me this week.”
“You’ve got nobody else. You’ve lost.” Bucky crossed his arms. “As long as you don’t fight us, this will be easy and painless.”
The older woman smiled in an unsettling way. “What do you mean I don’t have anyone else? You really think I’d put my entire trust in the hands of four idiot cleanup crew members?”
As if on cue, ten armed soldiers entered the room and stood behind her.
“Sorry, kiddos.” Val sneered at them. “But I can bring my own toys to the party. Shame it has to happen right under the old Avengers Tower, though. Kind of ruins the feeling, doesn’t it?”
“We can take them,” Ava lied. “Just give up, Val, and nobody else gets hurt.”
Val turned to one of her goons.
“Get the girl. The rude little bitch in the gray suit. Bring her to me. Use force if you have to.”
The man nodded mechanically and advanced towards Ava. She yelled and kicked him in between the legs, but he just kept going without so much as a grunt or stumble.
Something’s wrong.
She tried to slip away, but she was used to doing so while phasing. The guard caught her arm and began to lug her towards Val.
“Get the others,” Val ordered.
Ava suddenly heard yelling from her teammates. She twisted her head around to see Bucky, Alexei, and Antonia fighting furiously against Val’s weird lackeys. But it was a strange fight. Though the guards (as far as Ava could tell) didn’t have super strength or other superhuman qualities, they were taking the hits like it didn’t even hurt. It took forcibly knocking them out or worse to bring them down.
She’s done something to them. I don’t know how or what, but they aren’t acting human.
Antonia spit out some blood as she smashed one of their heads into the wall.
“Mind control!” She yelled. “The guards are under chemical brainwashing or something like it!”
Oh fuck. Clearly Val had no qualms about using her mind control shit on her regular guards too, not just the Sentry. But Yelena seemed to have at least a little bit of her mind left when she was subdued. Why? Was it just harder to brainwash a Sentry? Did Val perfect her formula or whatever the fuck she did to make them like this?
Alexei yelled and smashed the guard dragging Ava into the wall, but not before he managed to get her to Val. Val took advantage of her disoriented state caused by her stupid fucking nanotech and managed to get her in handcuffs. She roughly forced Ava to the control panel so she couldn’t fight back.
She heard Val press down on a button, but her face was shoved against the cold metal and she couldn’t see.
“No!” Ava heard Bucky yell.
She was confused for a moment before she felt Val stab something sharp into her back.
The pain tore through her already weakened body. She shut her eyes and screamed involuntarily. Val twisted the weapon into her flesh, dragging out the pain and the shriek, that sadistic motherfucker—
Alexei howled and dragged Val off. “Why did you do this? What did that do for you?”
Val laughed mirthlessly, her eyes darting to the camera feed.
“Exactly what I want.”
Ava forced her head up and saw the grainy live recording of a man with a taco-shaped shield, another man in loose scrubs, and a woman with short blonde hair—
Oh fuck, was the only thing her pain-addled brain was able to think. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.
They all watched, Val in Alexei’s headlock, as the blonde woman’s head darted up quickly. Ava saw the flash of golden light in her eyes—too quick to point out, but she knew she didn’t just imagine it. Yelena seemed to grab the two men and all three of them rushed down the hallway.
“What is happening?” Alexei asked slowly.
Bucky’s face was grim. “She wanted to call Yelena here. She wanted to set off the Sentry so she could try to control her. She knew that Ava was probably the only thing that was going to trigger her.”
Fuck love! Fuck love and fucking stupid loyal overpowered blonde Russians—!
“She might not be going the right way,” Antonia said hopefully.
“She is,” affirmed Val with a large twisted smile. “She’s not very far.”
As if on cue (for the second time), Yelena, John, and that random nervous-looking man burst in like a hurricane.
Yelena’s eyes darted around before latching onto Ava. They widened before narrowing dangerously. She half-flew, half-leaped over there to get to her as fast as possible, crushed her handcuffs so she was free, and ripped whatever weapon was still in Ava’s flesh out.
She gasped from the new throb of pain and craned her head up to see a furious Yelena holding a bloody knife.
“Who did this,” she asked slowly. “Who did this?”
“Valentina!” Alexei yelled.
Yelena’s irises went fully gold. She let out a terrifying howl and threw the knife into the wall, sinking it to the hilt in the metal from the force of her throw. She wrenched Val away from Alexei and pulled her up by the collar into the air.
“NO ONE CAN TOUCH AVA STARR!” Yelena as the Sentry roared into Val’s face. “NO ONE CAN HURT AVA STARR! WHOEVER DOES FACES THE WRATH OF THE SENTRY! DO WHAT YOU WANT TO ME, BUT NEVER—NEVER!—DO ANYTHING TO HER!”
Val shook in the face of Yelena completely and utterly losing all her shit, but she managed not to faint or beg.
“I made you!” She hissed up at her wrathful creation.
“Then you know full well just how DANGEROUS I CAN BE!” The Sentry threw Val into the wall and leapt on top of her again. “I GAVE YOU WARNINGS AND I GAVE YOU CHANCES. BUT NO MORE!”
“I can take it all away,” Val replied with a thinly veiled whimper.
Yelena screamed again and shoved her hand onto her throat. “TELL ME THIS. HOW—WILL—YOU—HURT—A—GOD?!”
Ava was about to cheer. Sure, it was the Sentry, and she didn’t trust when the Sentry fully took control. But at least the Sentry was pissed off for good reasons. At least they could count on the Sentry to protect them.
But then she saw Val wiggle a small device out of her pocket and her heart ceased to beat.
She knew what that was.
A kill switch.
Specially programmed to kill the victim. Always lethal.
Yelena was about to die.
“Yelena!” She yelled, pushing herself to her feet, adrenaline temporarily blocking out the pain from her stab wound. “YELENA! SHE’S GOING TO KILL SWITCH YOU!”
Yelena looked up, glowing golden eyes confused. She figured out what Ava said in two seconds.
She was two seconds too late.
Val smashed her finger onto the button on the kill switch.
Yelena’s eyes turned completely dark in a snap and rolled back in her head. She crumpled to the floor.
“NO!” Ava wasn’t sure if it was her or Alexei that screamed that, maybe both, but it was a word filled with grief and shock and anguish, more painful than the stab wound.
Alexei grabbed Val, screaming intelligible things at her while his thick arm crushed her throat. Ava raced to Yelena and checked her neck.
Her skin was cold.
Her heart had stopped.
Her eyes were empty.
Yelena Belova was dead.
Ava wrenched her head back and roared at life, at fate, at everything she was forced to experience. She had only known her for a few days, but they had bonded, grown closer, even kissed—
—And now Yelena Belova was dead.
Ava had finally let herself open up to the possibility of a friend, of even love, of not being alone. She wanted to prove Foster wrong, she wanted to grow. She wanted to grow alongside Yelena.
But now Yelena Belova was…dead.
It was a thing Ava couldn’t wrap her head around. Yelena, dead? After everything she had survived and escaped from? After all the close brushes she had already with Death? After the power of the Sentry?
It didn’t matter anymore.
Life didn’t matter anymore.
Because now Yelena Belova was dead.
Ava wanted to go to Val and kill her, then maybe burn down the world and everything in it. But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t leave the silent, curled-up body of Yelena Belova. She looked so small. Of course, she was short in life as well, but when she was dead she looked like a child crumpled on the metal floor. Damp blonde hair limp on the ground, hands half-open, face frozen in a million final expressions.
Ava wanted to hold her, to cradle her close, but just as she was reaching for her she heard Bucky suddenly begin yelling something in a terrified voice.
She was confused and angry. What, she wasn’t allowed this last touch of her first love? This vital piece of mourning? But then she looked back at the silent, curled-up body of Yelena Belova and she understood. She yelped and scooted back, fear making her tired heart quicken once more.
For every shadow in the room was beginning to flow to Yelena’s body. They began to melt into her, bleeding into her skin, her clothes, her hair. Her eyes turned into small pinpricks of white light. Just as empty as before, but now twice as scary.
The shadow version of Yelena slowly got up. She turned towards them all and said in that horrifyingly emotionless voice, “You didn’t really think I’d go down that easy, did you?”
In his shock, Alexei released Val. She slid to the floor, wheezing, but collected herself.
“Yelena, it’s okay,” she croaked. “Calm down. Yelena, I’m not afraid of you.”
The shadow of Yelena narrowed her eyes. “It’s not Yelena you need to be afraid of.”
The shadows began to spread out from her. They all pressed together, not caring if they were against friend or foe, only wanting to evade the darkness.
But it was no use.
“You should be afraid of the Void,” the shadow Yelena corrected them.
She spread out her hands.
“Because you can’t escape me.”
The darkness inched towards them.
“You can’t fight me.”
As they made contact with the shadows, as it smothered them and ripped them away from each other, as the pain and sadness and emptiness overwhelmed them, the last chilling words of the Void rang in their ears.
“So don’t even bother to try.”
Notes:
Did anyone notice that Yelena’s Void is more quippy than Bob’s because Yelena tends to mask her true pain with wisecracks in the movies? Or was it just me
We have now gotten to the final stretch of the fic, also known as the shame room sequences! Because reliving your worst memories is better with an audience :D
Next chapter might be a little late to post as it’s looking pretty long so far. It depends on if I separate it or not. However, be prepared for me to miss next weekend’s update. I’ll try to get it out as soon as possible!
Thoughts?
Chapter 15: Broken Buried Memories
Notes:
Ok, so I was gonna wait until Saturday, but I have a free moment rn. Since we’re near the end of this fic, I’m just gonna post whenever I finish chapters!
This one’s just Bucky, Yelena, and Antonia’s shame rooms. The next one’s gonna be Val, John, and Bob, then after that Alexei and Ava.
Also I swear to god I don’t hate Natasha Romanoff
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The first thing Bucky felt was pain.
Then moonlight.
He opened his eyes slowly, to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. No, he really was somehow lying on rain-slicked pavement on a slightly cloudy night. He pushed himself to his feet, readying himself for a fight, whether it be Val’s people or the Void.
But then, his heart skipped a beat.
He remembered this place.
He remembered all of them.
Like a shadow, a man with a silvery metallic arm and a mask slipped down the alleyway. He peered around for a little bit before continuing on his way. Quick as an arrow. Silent as a grave.
It was the Winter Soldier. It was himself, somehow. Almost like Bucky was a spectator in his own life. Was that how it felt to be the Void? Detached, empty, reliving her worst moments again and again and again? Was that why she had put him in this position?
Bucky had a split second to make a decision.
He decided to follow him.
The Winter Soldier quietly scaled a building, Bucky tailing him. How long it had been since he last broke into an apartment like this. He knew who the Winter Soldier was hunting. He remembered it. Former Hydra scientist turned dangerous deserter. Find and eliminate. Preferably without witnesses.
The Winter Soldier stopped at a window and evaluated it for a moment before smashing it open. They could both hear panicked shouts in German from the scientist and his girlfriend. The Winter Soldier seemed to be encouraged by the shouts, as though he thirsted for blood. But Bucky knew better than to assume that.
The Winter Soldier leapt through the now-open window, not caring about how much sound he made now. The scientist was down with a single shot. How invincible humans believed themselves to be. Going throughout life like nothing could hurt them, daring to have dreams and ambitions and hope, ignoring the fact that one shot from a tortured man could snuff out their lives like a candle.
The girlfriend, a tiny thing with dark hair and big blue eyes, cowered against the wall and sobbed. The Winter Soldier slowly turned towards her. She knew too much. Yes, she had seen him and that was forbidden.
It was the first time Bucky had ever taken innocent life before in cold blood.
Bucky grit his teeth. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t watch himself do this again. He shouted and grabbed the Winter Soldier from behind, yanking him back. The Winter Soldier didn’t show surprise.
“You can’t stop me,” he hissed.
“That’s what I’m doing,” Bucky retorted, tightening his grip.
“It’s impossible.”
“You can’t murder a civilian! Not again! I won’t let you!”
The Winter Soldier threw him off with a roar. “IT—ALREADY—HAPPENED!”
When Bucky landed, he was back on that rain-slicked pavement on a cloudy night.
No.
He stumbled up, and there he was, the Winter Soldier.
Yelena, stop it. Please, just stop it.
The Winter Soldier began to dart forward again, and Bucky made no move to stop him.
“What did I do to deserve this?” Bucky cried aloud.
The Winter Soldier stopped and turned back.
“You know.”
He was right. Bucky did know. He had done everything.
Since he couldn’t fight, Bucky began to run. He raced to the nearest door. Somehow, he was going to escape. Somehow, he was going to find Yelena and get her to stop this.
Is she doing this on purpose?
He heard the screaming, even from down there. Heard one gunshot, then two.
Bucky managed to reach the door. He tried to force it open, but it was locked.
Like he was a broken record, the Winter Soldier reappeared at his post to go kill them again. A never-ending loop of death and destruction.
Bucky blinked away the water with a snarl and, out of pure desperation, ripped the door off of its hinges. He knew deep inside that it was something dark that lay beyond, but he didn’t care. He had to escape. He had to leave.
Without turning back, he threw himself through the door.
—
A kill switch, a press of a button, then darkness. A darkness that, at first, comforted her. Maybe she really was going to die. Maybe she was finally going to end.
But then the Void came out and the despair overwhelmed her and she realized that there was no out. There was no ending. There was only the pain, there were only the memories, and they only got worse and worse.
Yelena blinked and squinted. She was in a forest, a snowy one, at night.
“Yelena!”
No.
“Yelena!”
A little girl’s voice. Not hers.
For Yelena could see herself, huddled behind a tree.
No, it was Anya.
Her friend. A little girl her age who looked up to her. She remembered sharing lunches with her when the trainers weren’t watching. She remembered getting her first test. Remembered luring her out into the snow to save herself.
She also remembered burying her that night in an unmarked grave by herself, with nothing but the crows and the corpse to keep her company. They said it built character to bury your best friends all alone. Yelena remembered lowering her body down into the grave and trying not to throw up again.
Yes, this was Anya.
This was her first test.
A Red Room memory.
Kill or be killed, that was the way.
No.
As her little self opened her mouth to reply, Yelena fled. She crashed through the forest, dodging trees like a panicked deer. Tears and snow burned her eyes, but she was consumed by the most basic instincts, which was mostly fear.
They weren’t allowed to feel fear, the Red Room girls, but she had always felt it anyway.
She heard the gunshot and slipped, falling on her face.
When she opened her eyes again, she was lying behind her little self, who was back behind the tree.
“Yelena!”
She bared her teeth and raced off again. Even if she couldn’t run away, she was still determined to escape. Whatever it took.
She found the man, the Red Room teacher, and wrestled his handgun from his hand with a yell of terror and desperation.
Before he could stop her, she shoved the gun to her head and pulled on the trigger.
A bang right by her ear, a flash of pain, then darkness.
Yelena opened her eyes again.
Snowy forest.
“Yelena!”
Little girls.
“Yelena!”
No escape.
She leapt up again. She was going to run away. Again and again and again, however many times it took, until she was able to get out of there.
But in her panic and confusion, she crashed against a tree. Seemingly possessed by some malevolent force that she was sure was herself, Yelena was tied to the tree’s trunk by its dark gnarly branches. She struggled, but she was pinned there like a dead beetle on display, with a front-row seat to her own traumas.
She looked away and blocked out the conversation. Tears stung her face.
“Stop,” she croaked.
A gunshot.
And then—
“Yelena!”
Yelena shook in the thorny embrace of the tree, trembled under bark and wood, and felt something, desperation or sadness or anger, ignite inside her.
“I said STOP!”
She wrenched herself away from the tree with a yell and a burst of Sentry power, warm and all-consuming. The tree’s branches melted away.
But she was only trapped in the memory again, the horrors ripped from the darkness of her mind.
Get away from the forest, and there would be something else waiting for her.
There was no escape.
And then, like clockwork, every time—
“Yelena!”
—
It was a bomb, over and over and over again.
Most people had never experienced the pain of a bomb. The fire that ripples over your skin. The way the peace of the world seems to shatter like thin glass. The loud BOOM that pierces your gut sharper than a knife, that rips through your body, your ears, your brain. Sending you flying backwards. Sending scars over your skin. Sending near-blindness in one eye, which could never be admitted, because that would be weak. And the Red Room didn’t do well with weakness. The weak usually die out early. It’s the strong that suffer through the maze of pain and gunfire that they call life.
Antonia had been reliving the bombing the entire time.
Antonia gritted her teeth and tried to run again. She barreled past her younger self. A child. With a backpack, fresh from her first day at school. She had made one friend, which she was super excited to tell her father about. Back then her father was a warm, calming presence. She had never questioned the girls and women training in his compound, because why would she? She was just a little girl. All she knew was that she wasn’t supposed to talk to the training women, and that they didn’t want to be friends, and that it was best to avoid them.
And then she was bombed.
But she didn’t die.
No, because death would be a mercy, and Antonia Dreykov had never known true mercy in her entire hell of a life.
The bomb hit again, this time catapulting her out of a window. She landed on a nearby car among broken glass and fiery debris.
She groaned, rolled over, and was staring right into the eyes of her bomber.
Natasha Romanoff.
She had seen her training, when she used to sneak out to watch the strange cool fighter girls when her father wasn’t watching her. Seen her training among tens of other women. She knew her father valued her, along with her little sister, that short surly blonde that was quick and sneaky during tests. But she knew that Natasha Romanova was her father’s particular favorite.
Until, of course, she bombed his daughter trying to aim for him and defected to S.H.I.E.L.D., became one of those dumb “perfect people” heroes that everyone claimed had done nothing wrong, not a single one of them.
But Antonia knew better.
Truth be told, Antonia hated Natasha Romanoff.
She hated her stupid red hair and her idiotic tight bodysuit that looked like it was more suited to a temptress than an assassin.
She hated how she repurposed the hourglass of the Black Widows into some kind of marketing for herself, when in reality it symbolized the pain one twisted man wrought upon hundreds, maybe even thousands, of girls. Like it was a cute little motif like Captain America’s shield.
But mostly, she hated how she was hailed as a hero. Oh, she saved New York. Oh, she saved New York again. Oh, look at that, she’s now saved half the planet. No matter the fact that there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of women out there that were still being reviled for the permanent influence of the Red Room that was forced into their brains, that deserved memorials and statues and plaques, that died with their minds not even belonging to them. And the ones that were left, the ones that were lucky enough to get the antidote?
Well, she for one still struggled. Struggled with the urge to kill like she was forced to for years and years. Like when she was angry, something snapped in her mind and she, for a minute, became a brainwashed killer again. She knew that the others who were saved fought with the permanent influences as well. Yelena, for instance. She hid it well enough so that it didn’t alert the others, but Antonia could see it clear as day. The willingness to follow directions, the gullibility, the violent outbursts. Hallmarks of chemical brainwashing that forever alters the brain. She was also sure Bucky noticed it in the two former Black Widows as well.
When Natasha Romanoff died, Antonia celebrated inside. Yes, she had saved her, technically. But she hadn’t been the one to kill Dreykov. No, her little sister did. She had years and years to free everyone, and she didn’t. No, instead she sat on her ass with gods and billionaires in a big fancy tower while they suffered, they suffered, and the great Avenger did nothing. All while the world praised her and mourned her. But no help for the other Black Widows. No, there could only be one heroic Black Widow, and it was Natasha. A scared and scarred girl was only villainized and blamed and forced into the waiting jaws of Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. To kill, to kill, to kill again, because that was the only life every single fucking Black Widow other than Natasha Romanoff could ever know. They weren’t Avengers, they weren’t lucky, they didn’t have super buddies to save them. They didn’t have newspapers and magazines glossing over their murders while highlighting those of the “bad guy”, the antagonist, the “villain”. Well, fuck that. If Antonia Dreykov was cast in the role of villain, why bother fighting it? Not everyone could defect to S.H.I.E.L.D. and play the hero and show off to cameras.
And Antonia also felt jealous of her.
Natasha’s face was unscathed, hers wasn’t.
Natasha got to escape, she didn’t.
Natasha was able to die, she couldn’t. No matter how hard she was to try.
Because Antonia’s life apparently was destined to be the tragic story of the bad guy. It was a wonder, honestly, she hadn’t been shot yet. She could only suppose that the universe wasn’t done with torturing her again, and she was right. No freedom for her, no relief for her, just bombs and bullets and fucking red hourglasses.
“Assignment is complete,” Natasha said to a device. Ah, so she hadn’t gotten rid of the Russian accent yet. That must’ve happened later. Guess it wasn’t very desirable to have your female sexy assassin archetype sound too much like a bad guy. Guess it wasn’t cool in the way that the marking of a black widow spider was.
Antonia roared and smashed through the glass. “NO IT’S NOT, BITCH! GUESS WHY! BECAUSE YOU FAILED TO KILL ME! THAT’S RIGHT, YOU FUCKING FAILED! YOU FAILED TO KILL ME, YOU FAILED TO KILL MY FATHER! YOU FAILED TO KILL THE REST OF US!”
Natasha looked up and calmly pushed her out of the car.
Antonia rolled back to her feet. “YELENA!” She yelled to the sky. “Yelena, that’s it! That’s enough!”
Natasha calmly took out the trigger for the bomb. The building was whole again. The little girl was walking back up the stairs. Full of excitement. She had made a friend. She had a great day at school. She was completely, utterly, innocent.
“NO!” Antonia crashed through the window of the car, tackling Natasha. “You can’t hurt me again, you can’t weasel away! If I’m going to be tortured, you’ll be tortured with me! Stop! I won’t let you!”
Natasha pressed the trigger, the building exploded, and then suddenly everything was restarted again. It was a loop. Like that American movie, the one with the reporter that lives the same day, something with guinea pigs or groundhogs or some other shitty rodent, again and again and again. But a million times worse. Because at least he could enjoy his day. Antonia couldn’t. Antonia wasn’t allowed enjoyment.
Was she really going to relive this one five-minute trauma, again, again, again, again, not enough times, too many times, forever and ever? She couldn’t. She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t be sane, she already was barely hanging onto her brain as she was.
She once more broke the glass of the car, once more grabbed Natasha.
“Yelena, stop,” she hissed into the face of the Black Widow. “Yelena, please just end it already. I know it’s you. I know it’s you that’s doing this.”
But Natasha only smiled.
“You want to end it? I tried.”
Then she pressed the button again.
“Boom.”
Notes:
Oof I cannot wait until I’m finished with the next chapters! We’re gonna just have hurtfic for a little bit
And then after that…well, you’ll see :D
Chapter 16: Agents and Subjects
Notes:
“ I W A S O N M E T H ”
Also IDK whether to feel kinda sorry for John or maybe just push him off a cliff :D
(TW: LOTS of self-loathing in this chapter during Bob’s POV. Stay safe guys)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Valentina. She lived in Italy with her father in a little house, and they were happy.
But then the little girl ruined everything. Yes, she had told the man in town where she lived, which was forbidden. And that man came and killed her father. And that man—Mr. de Fontaine—adopted her and took her under his wing and taught her everything she knew.
He taught her the most important lessons the little girl would ever learn in her life.
One, no one lives forever: take chances while you can while guaranteeing your safety.
Two, trust no one: because anyone can stab you in the back.
Three, hurt others before they hurt you: hurt them so badly that they can’t hurt you back.
The little girl was a good learner. She soaked up the three main lessons like a sponge, took over Mr. de Fontaine’s business, then, when the time came, demonstrated her understanding of all three lessons to him.
His body was never found.
And she went and ran his business to the ground because she was young and stupid. She wasted everything and eventually ended up lying on the floor of her apartment, all alone.
It was then, lying in a haze of drugs and despair, that she first thought of the Golden Guardian of Good. Someone who could save her. A Sentry who was watching her fail, who could drag her from the hole she had fallen into.
Eventually she dismissed this fantasy. There was no Sentry, there was no great savior, there was no superhero coming for her. She founded corporations, clawed her way through the ranks of the CIA, pulled herself up.
She accepted there was no such thing as a Sentry, not really, because no one could be an absolutely perfect human being, not ever. She accepted that if there was no Sentry, she’d go without one, then, eventually, she’d build one.
Sometimes, she wondered what would have happened if the little girl had not met that man who asked where her father lived.
Sometimes, she wondered if she’d still be in Italy.
If she’d still be happy.
Like now.
When she was being forced to live it all over again.
—
“God damnit, John, you never help, you’re always sitting on your phone and…and chasing your fucking glory days!”
The husband and wife are standing on opposite sides of the kitchen counter, lit only by a single flickering overhead light. The wife is fuming, her shirt stained from the baby. The husband is cocky, too cocky and sure of himself, sure of his perfection.
From the corner, John watched himself ruin his life.
“Olivia, fuck off with that shit!” He threw his hands up. “I help all the time.”
“No you don’t, don’t you dare fucking gaslight me! Are you fucking laughing right now? Oh my god, fuck you, John! Fuck you! Everything’s a joke with you, you’re always fucking right, you’re always the fucking hero! I have to work for us, I have to take care of James, but you’re the man, aren’t you?! So of course you’re the fucking leader? Fuck you!”
“Mama? Dada?”
No. No.
Both parents slowly turned to see their little son, staring at them.
“Hey, James,” John said in a false lighthearted voice.
“Honey, go back to your room, okay?” Olivia bent down. “Dada’s been drinking again.”
She was right. He had been.
James pouted. “But Dada told me he would play dinosaurs with me.”
“Not now, buddy,” John replied, irritation creeping into his voice.
“John…” Olivia warned him, but he ignored her.
“But Dada, you promised!”
“I said not now.”
“Dada!”
“James, go to bed,” John growled. He always had anger issues, from even when he was a child, playing football in a lonely field with a bunch of other blue-collar boys like him. But it had gotten worse with the serum, the stuff that made him a super soldier.
He just wanted to be Captain America.
He just wanted to be a hero.
A real one.
One that people would look up to, dress up as, make fake shields in tribute to.
James ran over and started tugging on his shirt. “You promised, you promised, you promised…”
“James…John!”
John finally snapped.
“You wanna play dinosaurs? Fine!” John grabbed one of his stuffed animals lying on the floor and threw it at him in a bout of rage. “Dodge the fucking comet, James!”
“JOHN!”
John stopped in his rage, realizing what he had done.
James was crying.
Olivia grabbed James’ arm. “Come on.”
“Where are you going?” John asked, his voice hoarse.
Olivia’s eyes were hard, furious, hateful. Understandably. “Away.”
“What?”
“We’re going away. We’re going to my parents.”
“No…no, Olivia…”
“You. Can’t. Hurt. My. Son.” Olivia began to drag James to his room. “I’ve given you too many chances. Come on, James, let’s go pack.”
“Pack?” James asked.
“No, no, Olivia, please!” John yelled after them, “Please, Olivia. God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t…Olivia?”
Nothing.
“Olivia?”
John, the real John, the current John, stepped out of the shadows.
“She’s gone, buddy.”
Past John stared at Current John.
“What d’you mean?”
“She’s gone.” He said it in a simple, sad tone. “She’s gone forever.”
Past John shook his head. “No, I’m gonna get her back. I always get it back.”
“Not this time.”
“You don’t know jack shit.”
“I don’t know? I fucking lived through it because of you!”
Past John roared and threw a plate at Current John. Current John dodged and grabbed Past John. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Hurting you!”
“Yelena, stop!”
“Who the fuck is Yelena?”
“The person that’s doing this!” Current John threw Past John into the wall. “The person that’s making me live through this whole fucking thing all over again!”
“I’m gonna get her back!”
“YOU CAN’T!”
“WATCH ME!”
Past John smashed a bowl over Current John’s head.
He blinked and found he was on the floor. A husband and a wife were having an argument.
“God damnit, John, you never help, you’re always sitting on your phone and…and chasing your fucking glory days!”
“SHUT UP!” Current John smashed through the counter, scattering splinters of laminated wood everywhere. “SHUT UP, SHUT UP, JUST PLEASE STOP FUCKING TALKING!”
Olivia punched him with unnatural strength, sending him flying backwards. “THIS IS WHY I LEFT YOU!”
Current John let out a scream.
“I KNOW!”
He turned away and looked back. A husband and a wife were having an argument on opposite sides of the kitchen counter.
“God damnit, John, you never help, you’re always sitting on your phone and…and chasing your fucking glory days!”
“Olivia, fuck off with that shit! I help all the time.”
“No you don’t, don’t you dare fucking gaslight me! Are you fucking laughing right now? Oh my god, fuck you, John! Fuck you! Everything’s a joke with you, you’re always fucking right, you’re always the fucking hero! I have to work for us, I have to take care of James, but you’re the man, aren’t you?! So of course you’re the fucking leader? Fuck you!”
“Mama? Dada?”
Current John walked over to James. “Don’t listen to them, okay, buddy? They’re stupid. Especially your dad. Your mom, she’s pretty okay.”
James stared at him incomprehendingly. “But you’re Dada.”
“No I’m not. He is.” He pointed at Past John. “And he doesn’t deserve you or Mama. but one day he might. One day he…”
James’ face turned hard.
“No he won’t.”
Current John stared at him in surprise before the memory restarted.
“God damnit, John, you never help, you’re always sitting on your phone and…and chasing your fucking glory days!”
Current John put his hands over his ears.
“Please stop. Please, Yelena, stop. What can I do to stop it?”
Olivia turned to him calmly.
“Nothing now.”
—
There was nothing quite like getting whalloped in the face by a sign-wielding meth-addicted chicken to make you reconsider your life choices.
Bob ducked as his past self came at him again with that stupid fucking sign, making noises right out of a horror movie. God, he hated that part of him. The twisted, broken part, the part that would rather drown in drugs than seek help.
Who could help him, though? Therapy sucked. Doctors prescribed a multitude of pills that never worked for him. These things were expensive. It cost money to fix what was broken, after all, and Bob Reynolds never really had much money.
“Can’t we talk this out?” Bob begged. “Look, it was a bad time in our lives, but please don’t literally beat yourself up over it—”
Chicken Bob let out another horrifying shriek and smacked him across the face with his sign.
Bob looked up, wiping some blood from his nose.
“Guess that’s a no, then.”
God, he really shouldn’t have left the attic. That one was the nicest of the selection so far. But no, he just had to be curious.
Bob got up and ran. He had managed to get to this room through a door. Maybe there was an exit out of here.
He tried the first door he noticed and landed on his face in a cell.
A containment cell, to be precise.
He didn't know whether he was there for two months or four. Time didn’t really move like it was supposed to while he was waiting in the Sentry labs. He was cut off from the world.
A doctor came in.
“Robert Reynolds?”
The other Bob in the cell—not the actual Bob, the memory one—darted up and to the glass. “Yes?”
She smiled. “Hello. I am the lead doctor on the Sentry Project. My name is Dr. Stoneworth.”
Memory Bob stared at her, waiting to get to the point.
She sighed.
“So, you’ve completed pretrial, yes?”
“Some sort of examination thingy,” Memory Bob replied hoarsely.
“Well, I am sorry to tell you that you have been officially released from the Sentry Project.”
“What?” His hands pressed against the glass. “No, no. This was supposed to make me better. This was supposed to make something of myself. You…you guys promised.”
“Again, I’m sorry. We’ve found another candidate to go forward with in your place.”
“Why are you replacing me?”
“This candidate is a better fit. The new candidate, combined with your unfortunate history of addiction and mental health struggles, has made us reconsider going forward with you, Mr. Reynolds.”
“No, no, you promised. You promised. You promised I could—!”
“Good day, Mr. Reynolds.” Dr. Stoneworth began to walk away.
“When am I getting out of here?” Bob called after her.
She didn’t answer.
Memory Bob sunk to the floor. Slowly, his hands found his throat and clenched around it in a spasm before letting go. He gasped, massaging his neck, as the tears began to fall.
Real Bob slowly walked forward.
“You’re lucky that they chose Yelena over you, you know. If what she said turned out to be true.”
Memory Bob looked up at him. “You don’t want me to be better?”
“I never said that.”
“You don't want me to be a hero?”
“Of course I do, it’s just that—”
Memory Bob stood up and shoved him against the wall. “You’re just like all the others.”
Bob writhed under his hand. “If this is how bad it gets for Yelena, imagine us as the Sentry! Imagine our bipolar asses putting people in these…these Mind-Fuckery Rooms! We’d probably cause so much more damage…”
“It would make it leave.”
“It can’t leave.”
“You’re just like the others!”
“Stop it!” Bob shoved his former self away. “I have to get out of here.”
Memory Bob laughed harshly. “There’s no escape. From the pain. The emptiness. It’s always there. It’s always there.”
Bob turned to the glass and began to beat it with his fists.
Memory Bob continued to giggle in a deranged way behind him. “It’s always there. Always. No escape. No escape. Just making things worse by thinking about it. Worse. Worse. Everything is getting worse…”
Bob began to hammer the glass more desperately. Tiny cracks on the glass began to form.
“Worse, worse. I’m worse, you’re worse, we’re all worse. She’s worse. She’s making this happen, but we’re making it happen too. Always the problem, never the solution.”
The cracks began to get larger.
“Haha, Bob the hero, Bob the savior. Who’re you saving? Yourself? You’re basically dead. That Russian whore you’re so attached to, the one that’s making all this happen? She’d be better off with us. The man with the shield? Why, do you want him to shield you so you can run away, run away again?”
Bob grit his teeth and tried to block out the words.
“You’re nothing, they’re something and they can’t stop it. If they’re something and they fail, then you’re made to lose. You’re just a civilian, you’re a nobody. You’re not even the Sentry. You’re nothing.”
Almost there, almost there…
“Nothing, nothing, you’re nothing. You can’t save yourself, you can’t save Yelena from herself either. Who’re you gonna save, Bobby? Your dad’s in prison and your mama’s dead, all because of you. Who’re you going to save now, eh, Sentry?”
God, a few more blows ought to do it…
“Fucker, go and die. We tried to. Couldn’t even accomplish that. You failed at everything. Couldn’t even put a bullet through your head. Weak. Pathetic little loser.”
Let me get out of here. Please, if there really is a god, let me be free.
“No wonder your dad punished you. Pathetic excuse for a Reynolds, he said. He was right. He was right about everything. He was right and we weren’t, and you helped put him in jail. You’re a terrible person. Who helps lock up their father but a complete monster?”
“Shut UP!” Bob hit the glass one more time with a primal yell, shattering it.
He fell forward and onto a kitchen counter. And then he heard a slightly familiar voice—
“Bob?”
Notes:
Next up is Ava and Alexei, with a short sequence for Yelena again. Can’t wait!
Thoughts, feelings, concerns?
Chapter 17: The Thunderbolt
Notes:
The working title for this chapter was “Why I Hate Scott Lang and the Ant Family: An Essay By the Raven”
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Alexei had not many regrets in his life. What was there to regret? He was famous. He was powerful. He was loved.
But of the few regrets he had, they were large.
They all revolved around his girls.
He didn’t know if he was even allowed to call them his girls. He only had them for three years. He had hated those three years, truthfully. Having to take care of a preteen and a gross toddler. A terrible fall from the great hero of Russia. Oh, how he wanted the suit again. The fame and fortune. The title of hero.
But now one girl was dead and the other was broken, and Alexei couldn’t fix it—as usual, he only made the situation worse.
And as one does when faced with the worst day of their lives over and over again, Alexei burrowed his head in his hands, trying to block out the memory.
But it was no use. The memory, it came from his head, and it had burrowed deep in there for years and years.
Alexei Shostakov and Natasha Romanoff were the only members of their little family to not get Blipped. He remembered trying to call Melina, over and over and over, trying to get an answer from her. He remembered Natasha calling him afterward, saying that Yelena was missing and she couldn’t reach her. How, at first, they tried to wave it off. They were former assassins. They had probably just gotten new burner phones.
But eventually the reports of the missing came back, half the population, and Alexei and Natasha finally accepted that the two were gone. And Alexei, every day, went to look at the tiny carved names, Melina Vostikoff and Yelena Belova, in the memorials in all the parks across the world.
And eventually he gave up.
Natasha didn’t, though.
He remembered that day like it was yesterday, sitting in his apartment. He had just gotten the worst call of his life a few days ago.
He had lost one daughter to save another.
There was no choice, not that he could have made one. How do you choose between two people you love? Alexei didn’t want Natasha over Yelena or vice versa. He just wanted them both. Why was that so hard?
Then he heard the doorbell ring. He had run over there and opened it to—
Yelena stood there, shaking, in the rain. She was wearing a black hoodie that was completely drenched. Alexei’s heart broke with grief and happiness and joy at seeing her again, then guilt, because he could only see her because Natasha was gone.
And Natasha, she couldn’t come back, not like Lena did.
“Yelena.” He tried to smile. “I missed you.”
She only looked into his eyes.
“Alexei. I need to ask you something. I asked Anna, and she said to come to you…”
He had no fucking idea who this Anna was, but he nodded. “Yes?”
“Where’s Natasha?”
Oh no.
The worst question she could ask right now.
The worst possible fucking question in the world.
She saw his face fall. “Please, please, Alexei. No one’s giving me a straight answer. I have to tell her I’m okay. God, she must be so worried right now.”
Natasha Romanoff couldn’t worry anymore. Because Natasha Romanoff was dead.
Alexei had never been good at this feelings stuff. Yelena had always needed more help with them. Natasha, Natasha was easier. Yelena was more fragile.
How could he possibly tell her that Natasha was gone?
“Come inside,” he said instead of the hard thing, trying to stall for time.
To his contrasting dismay and relief, Yelena stepped in and closed the door. She put down her hoodie and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair. “Crap. I hate it when my hair gets wet.”
It was definitely not the time for jokes, but of course Yelena didn’t know that yet.
“Yelena…” He hesitated. “How have you…how have you been?”
She threw her hands up into the air. “Well, I went with my friend to free someone, found out she was a killer for hire, got caught in an uncomfortable conversation, then apparently turned to dust in her fucking bathroom, then came back and found out five years just went by without me aging or being in them at all, got this business card for this lady named Fontaine something-or-other—Anna said she was looking for business—and now no one’s answering my questions about Nat. Who died? The news said an Avenger died. I think Iron Man? Poor Natasha, she must be so sad.”
“Yelena…”
She looked into his eyes, and something went out behind hers. The light seemed to dim.
“Alexei? What’s wrong?”
“Lena—”
“Where’s Natasha?”
“Lena…”
“I have to…have to tell her that I’m back. Maybe we can go out,” she said hopefully. “Maybe she knows a few good places in New York. She said we were gonna visit there together when she was done with her superhero stuff.”
His heart was completely broken by now.
My fault.
“Yelena,” he said very quietly, in a voice barely more than a whisper.
She frowned. “Who died, Alexei?”
“Well—”
“Other than Iron Man. Who died? Captain America? The arrow one? Who was it, Alexei?”
“Yelena…you know the answer.”
She shook her head. “No I don’t. I don’t read minds.”
A tear fell down his cheek. “Lena…you aren’t going to go to New York with Natasha.”
“Why not? They brought half the world back, sounds like she’s done with superhero shit to me.”
“Because…because she…she fell.”
“Fell?”
“Yes. They called me. The Avenger people.”
“No…no, that can’t be true.”
“It is.”
“No, ‘cause Nat, she promised me—”
“Yelena, please.”
“Stop lying!”
“I’m not lying! She died to save the world, she died to save you—”
“BUT I NEVER WOULD’VE WANTED HER TO!”
Yelena sobbed and smashed her fist into an armchair.
“She can’t have died, she can’t have, Alexei, she—she promised me—”
Alexei held his hands up, trying to keep it together. “Yelena, what she did was very brave—”
“I DON’T WANT HER TO BE BRAVE!” Yelena let out a primal howl and overturned his side table. “I DON’T WANT HER TO BE A HERO! I JUST WANT HER TO BE HERE!”
“Lena—”
“Don’t lie to me Alexei, don’t tell me she’s gone forever, please Alexei, it’s not funny—”
“I’m not trying to be funny. She’s…she’s gone.”
“Alexei, please—”
“What do you want me to do?”
She cried, and it broke his heart even more. “Bring her back, Alexei.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Kill me, fucking kill me so she comes back!”
“Lena, you don’t mean that—”
“Better me than her!”
He wiped away a tear. “Lena, she can’t come back, because she’s—”
“Don’t do it, don’t say dead!”
“But she—”
“DON’T SAY IT!” Yelena melted onto his couch. “Because she’s not. She can’t be. She’s Natasha Romanoff. She can’t die. She can’t…”
“Yelena…”
The other Alexei stepped out of the shadows.
“Yelena?”
The Yelena in the memory looked up.
“Yelena, is that you? Is it really?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you my Lena, the one that’s doing all—”
She leapt up and slammed him into the wall by his neck. No matter that he was basically two feet taller than her.
“Your Lena is dead.”
“No,” he whispered, his heart dropping.
“Your Lena is gone.”
“No, no, because we’re still here, she must be here somewhere.”
Her hand spasmed around his throat. “And it’s all because of you.”
“Please, please, Yelena—”
“Don’t you understand, you stupid backstabbing Father of the Year?” Memory Yelena laughed harshly. “There’s no more Yelena Belova.”
“Please—”
“There’s no more you.”
“Please stop, stop—”
“It’s only the emptiness. So sit with that, Alexei. Sit with what you did to your daughters. Sit with the fact that you caused one to die and the other to go mad. Reflect on that, mighty Red Guardian.”
The terrible thing was, Alexei couldn’t figure out if it was Yelena or himself that was saying that to him.
—
Ava had quite a few regrets in her life, and they mostly revolved around killing people.
Or rather, not killing people.
And sure, that wasn’t the thing someone in a “hero” position was expected to say, but hell, Ava was just being honest. Like, why didn’t she kill those S.H.I.E.L.D. trainers? Or Hank Pym? Or his stupid daughter? Or his fucking wife? Or that other guy Scott, the one that was basically the third wheel in his own fucking relationship?
God, Ava hated the lot of them.
Stopped her, sold her out, and left her to Val.
Yeah, what real fucking heroes they were.
But that’s what someone gets when they put all their trust in, out of all the Avengers, the one that rides ants as his superpower.
Hank fucking Pym couldn’t have given them super strength or flight or magic or anything more remotely fucking useful, no, instead he gave them shit that made them into weird insect cowboys.
But mostly, mostly she was pissed off at Scott Lang. Because that motherfucker, that stupid boot-licking, bug-sized son of a bitch, came back and never reached out to her.
She knew he came back, too, ‘cause he was there for that Avengers photoshoot/oh-look-we’re-saving-the-world-moment.
And she read his book. A terrible read, by the way, zero stars, absolutely would not recommend.
Maybe she was just a bit salty about it, though, because Yelena was making her fucking relive it all over again.
Ava didn’t care to give some long-winded self pity session of an explanation. Basically, it all boiled down to—
She tried to steal some idiot’s collapsible lab.
The idiot enlisted the help of an even worse idiot to stop her.
Somehow, that shit actually worked. Probably because, oh yeah, the person that was trying to help her double-crossed her and sold her out. Nice fucking job, Bill Foster. Oh, real great help. Thanks for nothing. Even though he was the dumbass who made her a fucking killer agent child anyway. Took videos of her screaming as a kid like the weirdo he was, what a dick he was to her.
And sure, it would’ve killed the idiot’s stupid self-sacrificing wife.
But the wife had decades and decades to live a normal life, and Ava had basically nothing.
Besides, she already gave herself up, and Ava didn’t, Ava didn’t choose to go through the hell that was her life. Why should Ava be punished because everyone around her didn’t care about her? Her father, doing that experiment where they lived. Her trainers (there was too much that Ava could say about them). Foster, Pym, Lang, Val, all of them.
The only person that gave a single flying fuck about whether she was okay or not happened to be Yelena.
But she was god knows where, making all this shit happen.
“You said you could fix me.”
God, shut the fuck up. Ava continued to tug at the door of the lab determinedly. She was going to get out. She was going to get out and maybe slap Yelena across the face for putting her through all this shit and then kiss her. Yeah, that sounded like a solid plan.
But there was nothing. No escape. No end. Just over and over and over—
“You said you could fix me!”
And the anguish behind those six simple words, the pain and fear and rage that controlled her, that had fueled her when her very body failed to sustain itself.
When only wrath keeps you alive, you’re going to die soon anyway.
But now I have more.
But did she?
Ava spun away from the door and turned to the portal. Just beginning to glow. God, there’s nothing for her, she could feel it.
I’ll always be alone, like Foster said.
And her heart broke in two, because it was true.
No love for the villains.
Ava yelled and rushed at the portal. If she was going to die, she wasn’t going to let her pain or her girl be the one to kill her. No, she wanted to go out on her own terms. She wasn’t going to keep herself alive out of spite anymore, because there was no point to it. She was going to prove everyone wrong, write her own future, and die in her very last rebellion.
She crashed into the quantum energy, and felt the now-familiar feeling of her molecules shattering.
It hurts.
It always hurts.
Well, not anymore.
She landed on her face on a mouldy-smelling couch.
“Ava! Ava Starr!”
No, that wasn’t the sound of whatever came after. She clearly wasn’t dead.
That was Alexei.
—
Breaking through the forest, landing on a table, hearing the whip crack—
—No, no, no, no—
—Running, smashing into another mirror—
—Please, god, if there’s a god, make it stop—
—In a bathroom now, a familiar bathroom, her bathroom—
—God, just let me die, please—
—Then that must be her, against the tub, bottle in hand—
—I can’t do it, I can’t do this again—
—Approaching her, but why, what’s the point, why were her feet moving—
—I have to help her, she’s not okay, she needs help—
—Getting attacked now, shoved against the wall—
—Please no, no, don’t make me—
—Getting the bottle shoved into her throat—
—Don’t make me do it again—
—Being forced to drink from it, because there was no escape—
—Let me die, please, just let me die—
—Falling to the floor—
—I can’t do it anymore—
—Wishing she was dead, she would be better off dead—
—Ava—
—Staring back at the woman lying blackout drunk against the tub—
—Ava, I’m so sorry—
—An alcoholic, useless, weak, too fragile to deal with the world—
—I didn’t mean to—
—No wonder she had went through Project Sentry, she needs it, she needs a scrap of something to make her feel good about herself—
—I didn’t mean to do any of it—
—Someone kill her, please, someone come in and kill Yelena Belova already—
—My parents, the others, the guards, all the others—I didn’t want to—
—Or else she’ll have to do the job herself—
—I’m sorry—
—
Ava blinked away the dust from her eyes and stared at Alexei, who was frozen in a fight with Yelena.
“Yelena?!” She rushed up. “Alexei, let her go—!”
“It’s not her, it’s not our Lena!” He yelled.
Our Lena.
He pushed the other Yelena away. “She’s something else. She is a memory or something to torture me.”
“She’s been doing that to me too,” Ava admitted. “Not that Yelena. Our Yelena.”
He looked at her. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I’m sorry for you, too.” She rolled her shoulders. “Have you been able to change rooms?”
His eyes, already watery, filled with more tears. “No, Ava Starr. I have been stuck here the whole time.”
Damn.
“Okay, well, I know how to get out.” Ava looked around. “We have to break something. Something that can get us out. Like a door or a window or something, something that lets us go…”
She rushed to his front door. “Alexei, help me break this down!”
He raced there, pummeling it and yelling. Finally, the door shattered into a million shards of wood.
They could see a field lying beyond.
She looked at him. “That’s not my memory.”
“No,” he replied quietly. “I think it is mine.”
She nodded. What was there to say, after all? They were stuck in a never-ending sequence of their worst memories. What, “Sorry you’re going to have to go through more trauma in front of an audience”?
She looked back. “Well, go forward with me or stay in that other memory fighting your fake daughter. Your choice.”
“Forward,” he decided.
They pushed through.
They were standing in a grassy field. It was a cloudy day, and the air carried the smell of incoming rain. There was nothing else in the field except for a single broken-down football goal, the net dragging in the mud and the frame snapped in two.
Ava waited for the memory to begin, but there was nothing. They were safe. They were alone with the football goal in a lonely field, standing in the calm before the storm.
“We have to keep moving. We have to go.” Suddenly Ava turned around. “Alexei?”
She noticed him crouching in the grass. Slowly, he picked something off the ground and dusted it off.
It was an old cam recorder. From the 90s, probably. It was caked with dirt, but he managed to turn it on.
“The last recording,” he mumbled.
“What is it?”
He simply played the video in reply.
It was showing an old football net on a grassy spring field. A little girl with blonde hair raced over to the goal, standing in front of it and giggling.
“That’s Yelena,” he explained. “She is five. She is soccer goalie. This was four months before we…we left America.”
Ava gazed at the grainy video of the laughing little girl. So that girl would grow up and become the Sentry. And just a few months after this video was taken, that girl would be taken and trained and eventually brainwashed. It made her feel sick.
She heard Alexei’s voice, but in an American accent, in the video. “Go Natasha! She runs to the goal—!”
“Daddy, you’re supposed to cheer for me!” Little Yelena pouted.
“Don’t worry, honey, I’m cheering for you too,” Alexei in the video replied.
Another girl, older, with blue hair, streaked into view.
“That’s Natasha.” Alexei’s voice was sad.
Little Natasha Romanoff kicked the small black-and-white football at the goal. Little Yelena made her adorable focusing face she still made as an adult and threw herself at the ball, grabbing it while faceplanting in the dirt. Little Natasha ran to see if she was okay. The tiny blonde popped back up with a huge grin on her face and grass streaks on her black-and-yellow jersey. She playfully tackled her older sister, who wrestled her to the ground.
The video ended on the frame of both of them playing. Little Natasha had her little sister in a loose chokehold, while Little Yelena was cracking up, having the time of her life. It was like a snapshot of a different universe, one where the two sisters could just love each other in peace.
Ava never experienced play like that. At least, not that she could remember. She had a vague memory of her and her dad kicking around an old half-deflated ball back in Argentina. But the only recordings she could look at were S.H.I.E.L.D. videos of her training, and she didn’t care to watch those.
Still, she wondered if it would be devastating in a different way to have a video of her normal life. If, maybe, it would remind her of times when it was better, and that would make everything she remembered after hurt all the more.
A tear dripped from Alexei’s cheek and onto the small screen.
“I miss my girls,” he said quietly.
Ava stared at him. “You’re literally the reason why everything happened.”
It’s your fault, Alexei. You’re the reason why Natasha is dead. You’re the reason why Yelena is hurting. It’s you.
Still, she felt a pang of pity for the old man. That simple sentence cut a little. She also missed her girl. Worried about her. Needed to make sure she was okay, that Val didn’t hurt her any more.
And a tiny piece of her missed her old self, too.
He answered back with two simple yet heartbreaking words.
“I know.”
Alexei’s voice was so sad and defeated-sounding that she couldn’t stay angry at him. She moved closer to him and carefully wiped the tear off the screen.
“Hey.” Ava pointed at Little Yelena. “So, uh, she was a football goalie?”
He smiled in a watery way. “Yes. She played for team of little girls. They were called the Thunderbolts. Never won a single game, but she had so much fun it didn’t matter. I used to drive her to her practices at night. We played it in the park.”
Ava snorted. “Never winning? I feel like the Thunderbolts right now.”
“Go Thunderbolts,” Alexei said with such little conviction that she had to laugh.
“We should call ourselves that, when we find the others. Just to piss off Yelena,” Ava joked, bumping him with her shoulder. “Now let’s go. We don’t want to stay in these memories too long.”
He hesitated with the cam recorder before dropping it.
“I miss my little girl,” he repeated, as though saying that would fix everything that he did.
Ava grabbed his hand and squeezed it.
“I miss her too.”
Notes:
*replays “I Don’t See Your Mistakes” from the movie soundtrack* 🥹 They just want their girl back…
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