A very complexed spark

by SurpriseBoxes

Summary:

“To what hidden deity in the universe must I pray that someday you will forgive me?” She put her thumb to her mouth and then wiped a spot of dried blood that remained on Antonia's scalp, revealing another scar from the past. “I'm sorry for all you've had to go through.”
“...”
“And I'm sorry you didn't get the best impression of me.”
“I don't hold a grudge, Ava.”
The tense body on the couch bore without complaint that of the woman who pressed herself more and more against her unnoticed.

Notes:

This is my first time writing Ghost x Taskmaster, I hope I have found a good insight into Antonia Dreykov's personality and a good dynamic between her and Ava Starr.
You don't need to read the first part “A toast to staying alive” to understand this (because that work is about Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova and only Ava and Antonia are mentioned) but it helps to have the context of some things going forward.
Hope you enjoy it!

The fanart belongs to "konako.art" on instagram

Chapter 1

“That was a disastrous show, although I admit that this time you guys showed off.”

“No more than you did with your super shield that bends at the slightest blow.”

“It didn't happen like that and you know it. Forgive me for being the one to have your back.”

Ava dropped her shoulders casually before being the first to exit the elevator, followed by John and finally Antonia, each taking a different path through the lobby on the top floor of the tower.

The other team members were either absent or doing personal things, which is why the three of them were called out for a patrol near the Statue of Liberty. According to Valentina Allegra de Fontaine's sources, a radical terrorist group was seeking to send a message to the entire country about the new world order. After the dirty laundry of former President Thaddeus Ross was revealed, a certain paranoia was born in people, especially in those with the weapons and the means to get noticed.

Perhaps it was not a good idea to get involved without having a consolidated plan or all the members of the team active, however, Valentina's insistence that The New Avengers gain more and more recognition forced Ghost, Taskmaster and the US. Agent to suppress any danger to emerge.

The situation became more complicated than expected, to the point where all three anti-heroes were affected to a lesser or greater extent. Antonia was the one who took the brunt of it and it showed in her limp. The ash-covered suits bear witness to the disaster of bullets and explosions. The boots and shoes, stained with dusty earth, are the living image of the relentless confrontation that left their owners exhausted. And of course, as soon as the elevator doors opened, they took off their helmets, revealing some bruises on their faces.

Except for Taskmaster, she kept the mask and hood on.

While John drank one glass of water after another and whispered to himself, Ava noticed the other woman sitting in one of the large armchairs overlooking the terrace; the blanket of night would have engulfed her figure but for the modest lighting of the surroundings.

“Are any of them seriously injured?”

“Just pride and a bit of bone, nothing serious.”

“I can bring the emergency kit if they feel unwell.”

The brown-skinned woman rolls her eyes, turning around and leaning her hip on the drink bar. She knows John is just trying to be nice, to show genuine concern for the group despite the ongoing differences in perspectives, but the almost aggressive, egomaniacal tone in which he speaks doesn't help Ava. Besides, she is aware that if she were to feel truly ill she would not hesitate to tend to her wounds on her own.

She scraped a small superficial cut on her left cheekbone with her knuckles before folding her arms and pondering silently. Occasionally she stole glances at the hooded figure still tense in the armchair with her back to them.

The sharp sound of something tapping on the bar caused to quietly tilt her head, finding a small glass that was filled halfway with whiskey by Walker.

“If mistakes in war have taught me anything, it's that the best way to endure them is with a lot of willpower and a good bottle.”

Ava flashed a half-smile and, after a sigh in which she expelled some of her post-battle stress, drank the contents in one gulp, enjoying the passing burn in her throat. John mimicked her, grimacing in satisfying pain from the effect of the alcohol burning his tongue.

“Not bad.”

“I'll go rest, I need a bath. I hope no one misses this pretty bottle.”

“What bottle?”

The man pointed at the brunette with a more genuine smile at her cooperation and disappeared from the lobby, but not before taking a bottle of water with him.

After the wave of overwhelming silence swept over the place, Ava ran her fingers through her hair with her gaze fixed on an invisible spot, thinking.

She recalled the events of the past two hours, specifically the specifics of the mission and how they were forced to act by force to subdue the terrorists. At this point, The Statue of Liberty would require a Wakandan army to ensure the welfare, as everyone seems obsessed with throwing a party there every so many years.

That thought transported her back to that moment that left her speechless.

Amidst the haze of grenades and the dust of the earth she distinguished Taskmaster neutralizing enemies, curiously, with moves that also sought to protect them from external attacks. The shield was what was most predominant, in addition to the bow and sword, but without the aggressiveness that characterizes Walker or the brutality of Yelena. She ignored the blows she received, the obstruction of the field of vision was an inconvenience for her, especially because of how desperate some criminals were to accomplish their goals.

In the end she emerged from the gray dust with blood stains on her mask and clothes.

The police took care of cleaning everything up, but Ava was not oblivious to the other woman's attempts to disguise the wounds she suffered to her leg, arm and head. The white hooded skull made it impossible to see beyond the usual coldness she conveys with her silence even during the ride home.

She turned back to the one who invaded her mind and was not surprised to see her in the same position as before. Ava shuffled through the possibility that Antonia had fallen asleep on the couch, after all, everyone was tired after such a long night, but the subtle tremor she discerned in her knee put paid for that idea.

The distance was no problem for her keen eyesight, let alone her feet, as she approached with a confident stride.

“I hope I'm not interrupting your nightly meditation.”

Nothing. Not the slightest reaction that would show life in the Russian assassin.

“Are you all right? You got hurt pretty bad from that fight.” She changed to a softer tone resting her thigh on the armrest of the chair, and perhaps it was that combination of factors that allowed her to see a little more of the mask “You should check your condition, it's not good to leave wounds untreated.”

The hooded head nodded silently and turned back toward the huge panes of glass. It was obvious how unmotivated the woman was to prolong an interaction she considered unnecessary, or so Ava thought at first and had to regret her frown when she saw the tremors in her right hand and knees. The extremities closest to her.

Antonia heard the long breath and subsequent exhalation at a level that seemed exaggerated to her, but she did not express it in any way. She merely gazed up at the sky, oblivious to the pain biting at her body and face as Ghost's footsteps slowly moved away until she was alone.

She finally felt safe to close her eyes protected by the mask that smelled of blood.

Until the footsteps returned with more insistence and she almost tensed as she came upon the image of the same woman standing in front of her, one hand on her hip, a first aid kit in the other and a raised eyebrow that expressed reproach.

“Do you take that thing off or shall I?”

“What do you want, Ava?

Instinctively she became alert as the brunette's knee landed on the cushion next to her, becoming somewhat enclosed under the body covered in black material up to her neck. The closeness of their faces, even with the barrier of the skull mask, gave her goosebumps; she's not used to anyone having long conversations with her and many willingly having someone corner her while seated.

Ghost removed the hood less gently than expected and without a word touched the button near the ear that dissected the mask until only the tense face of her companion remained. A haughty smile, but devoid of malice, formed on her lips as she noticed the force with which Antonia clenched her jaw.

“If you're uncomfortable with what I think of your scars then don't worry, we all saw you without that disturbing thing on your face and I assure you that it doesn't bother anyone.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you look as if you were going to kill me at any moment?” Ava took Antonia's head in her hands to closely analyze the skin bruised in the confrontation, adopting a more serious look than before. “You got hit very bad; you have a swollen cheekbone and the line of a knife near your lip. This needs to be disinfected.”

She reached for the kit and rummaged through it, listing a few things as she was watched intently by her unexpected patient. Neither seemed to notice the other knee that went up to mimic her twin and so Ava straddled Antonia's lap, the latter not even pushing away the tense hands that brushed against her pants.

“Don't move.”

A new wave of uncertainty hit Antonia as she allowed someone else to wipe the sweat from her face and neck in such a vulnerable position. Her stomach churned from imagining the mocking disappointment in her late father's eyes if he saw her in that situation. Stripped of her weapons allowing another trained assassin to touch her throat with a towel, something that could be used to strangle.

Memories of the monster that made her what she today comes and goes like the wind, just like most of the images of her past.

A short hiss escaped her lips as a cotton ball touched the shallow cut. The sensation of the burning liquid in her wound rivaled the shiver of Ava's fingers on her skin. The hand that held her head was one thing, but the fingertips that groped her mouth with each touch of the cotton was another.

It felt strange, uncomfortable, and improbable.

And a little good.

“You were brave, stupidly brave out there.”

“We were going to get killed if I didn't fight.”

“I don't mean that, you had a lot of courage protecting us at the cost of your own health and trying to fight without lethal blows...until those assholes willingly threw themselves into the lion's den.”

“I killed most of them.”

“I know, you had no choice, but you tried to give them a chance to surrender. Deciding to be noble is not easy, for any of us it is, for that I thank you.”

Ghost's fingers tangled in the dark brown locks, spending a few seconds outlining the scars on the right side of her face. The pair of eyes of different colors did not leave hers despite her attention being completely consumed by what imagination drew about Antonia's past.

She knows the most important things thanks to Yelena, Alexei and the declassified files of The Red Room, but it is the details of those who had no voice to cry out that carry the most pain with the passage of time.

For some reason, Ava feels that the worst moments of her own life were paradise compared to what Taskmaster had to experience.

It took her a while to realize how intimate the touch of her fingers on the scarred skin had become, even her face had moved closer to see more and her breasts were inches away from rubbing together.

She stepped back pretending that this change of environment did not affect her and continued with her work of disinfecting the cuts and then placing gauze and patches. One on the corner of the jaw, one on the nose, two more on the cheek and the last one on the temple.

“Is that better?” She searched for Antonia's gaze, but it was silhouetted in another direction, distant.

After snapping her fingers and regaining the Russian assassin's interest, she understood what was happening and let out a short laugh as she remembered the origin of the horizontal wound on her temple.

A wound much more recent than the scars she has carried since childhood and prior to tonight's bruises.

The bullet that shot her the day they all met.

The bullet that miraculously only grazed her head.

“You know, for someone with memory problems it's ironic that you never forget that I almost killed you the day we crossed paths.”

No response again. Far from being frustrated, Ava was amused by the stiffness in Antonia's profile, curiously having a perfect view of the gauze trimmed where the bullet passed through. The short brown hair didn't help hide the enigma of their first encounter.

She touched the area with her thumb and immediately the two different irises looked at her with distrust.

“To what hidden deity in the universe must I pray that someday you will forgive me?” She put her thumb to her mouth and then wiped a spot of dried blood that remained on Antonia's scalp, revealing another scar from the past “I'm sorry for all you've had to go through.”

“...”

“And I'm sorry you didn't get the best impression of me.”

“I don't hold a grudge, Ava.”

The tense body on the couch bore without complaint that of the woman who pressed herself more and more against her unnoticed.

“So?”

“I'm having trouble getting used to such a drastic change.”

“Yelena told me about the atrocities that took place in The Red Room.” She clicked her tongue as she felt she put her foot in her mouth when Antonia closed her eyes and tensed her shoulders “We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”

“I don't know if I'll ever feel comfortable dealing with this.”

“I spent many years dealing with the instability of my molecules until a solution finally arrived. Yes, very late, but it helped me to value patience, even more so in areas that are worth waiting for.”

The brunette's surprisingly soft hands once again took the chestnut's face to make eye contact. There was none of the humor or acidic sarcasm she usually conveys when she smiles, it was just a smile, nothing more; something Taskmaster didn't know how to interpret and chose to remain expressionless.

“You don't have to face your battles alone, neither when we are on a mission surrounded by idiots nor when you want to hide in an armchair away from everything and everyone. We are a team.”

“I've heard you say that you're surrounded by idiots here too.”

“Well, those are particular situations. Sometimes you all get on my nerves, and I have no choice but to say what I think.” Her lips curved relieved to see tranquility in the eyes of the one who is receiving the warmth of her hands “But I wouldn't change you for anything in the world, you are all important to me.”

Something felt different in Antonia's chest as soon as those words reached her ears, praying inwardly not to forget them.

Her right hand took on a life of its own and with hesitant movements she hesitantly reached up to touch Ghost's waist. Her human reasoning told her that this was an involuntary and even logical reaction given their positions. The normal thing to do is to want to hold the one above you so they don't fall.

But the goose bumps caused by the contact of her fingers with Ava's black clothing proved her wrong.

She genuinely wants to touch her; to share the same comforting warmth she is giving her cheeks.

The minutes passed in silence, a pleasant silence with no further spoken interactions arising; just the two of them, in proximity. Ava spent so much time contemplating every detail on the trapping face that she didn't notice the hands resting on top of her hips until Antonia swallowed saliva.

Apparently, that action unleashed more nervousness in the causer than in the receiver.

“How am I supposed to interpret that?” She arched an eyebrow, containing the curve that wanted to form at the corner of her mouth.

“I don't want you to fall.”

“Of course, it would be a real tragedy if my knee slipped off the edge of the cushion and I plunged to my certain death onto the carpet.”

Ava wrinkled her nose in innocent mockery as she felt those hands squeeze the sides of her body a little. She thought it pleasant.

“Although something tells me you'd save me from falling.”

“Yes.”

The brunette's face hovered over the chestnut's immersed in the serenity of what in another context might convey the wrong message, after all, it was just two teammates dispelling the anxiety of a night that went worse than expected.

Until the moment when one straddled the other to tend to her injuries.

The first to realize how intimate their gazes were becoming was Ava, who pulled her hands away from Antonia and uncomfortably lowered herself off her lap, taking care not to touch Antonia's injured leg. She avoided eye contact as much as possible and knelt next to the couch with the emergency kit.

“I will check the condition of your arm and leg, please uncover those parts of your body.”

The lack of the previous complicity might have generated something in the Russian assassin, but in case it had, she didn't show it, merely removing her glove and rolling up her forearm. The pair of different, dull eyes returned to the safety of the night sky as Ghost examined the childhood burned limb.

Both women suffered from a knot in their stomachs for different reasons as the tension eats up the lobby.

Antonia felt the pain rise her chest until it caught in her throat, the sting of memories mingling with the ghost of soft hands on her cheeks, one of them on the damaged side of her face; something so improbable she wanted to laugh in helplessness, but her father had long since taken away the ease of expressing emotion.

Those same fingers traced a couple of fresh cuts in her flesh and she didn't control the trembling of the limb when her knuckles were touched.

“I'm sorry…”

Antonia closed her eyes tightly and clenched her jaw, the discomfort in Ava's voice hurt her more than the wounds being treated with pure alcohol and disinfectant.

Another ghost emerged from her memory, it was a Black Widow, one of the few she saw before she left in search of her last target before the destruction of The Red Room. In a way she understands why exactly that girl came back to haunt her in her mind, as the face, age, name and any features of her person are blurred.

She only remembers the pose and what she did. Standing in front of her, oblivious to her suffering after inserting the information disk into her old helmet, she drew a smile with her fingers over her mouth. A childish, irrelevant gesture, typical of someone who had been in an equally lousy situation.

Her mind compared it to Ava's treatment.

Similar postures, diametrically opposed sensations.

The other hand opened and closed as if it wanted to return to the giddiness of grabbing Ava by the waist.

“Ready, I think this will relieve some of it. Tomorrow we'll have to check and change the bandages.”

“I understand.”

“Now your leg.”

The brunette opened her eyes wide at the speed with which the assassin unzipped her pants and ungracefully pulled them down to the middle of her calves, remaining seated.

They looked at each other for a couple of seconds before Ghost resumed her attention to the companion's body. She did her best not to look at the exposed flesh and concentrate only on why she is kneeling.

Her hands massaged the bruised skin, an unpleasant purple color on the knee and part of the thigh contrasted with the rest of the white skin. That comparison inevitably made her steal glances, as if curiosity to discover what her companion's black suit concealed might outweigh her own concentration.

The leg spasmed as she pressed a piece of white cloth into the bruise, but she didn't stop. She avoided expressing any emotion on her face until the affected areas of Antonia's leg were bandaged as well as the forearm, and as soon as she was done she caught herself staring at the taut thighs.

Her eyes ascended to meet the mesmerizing gaze of two orbs that, after the team's officialization, have regained some life.

“Thank you.”

The silence before and after that almost imperceptible word scratched Ava's heart.

“It's all right.” She stood up, wiping her hands on a cloth and helped reposition the other woman's pants without forcing her to get up. “You need to rest, preferably in your bed, and don't move around too much.”

“I'm fine.”

“Excuse me, but I don't believe you. You have very little concern for your well-being.”

“I can handle this.”

Taskmaster's disgruntled face was in shock as she felt Ghost's hands on her cheeks again and then the touch of lips on her temple, right at the edge of the gauze where the scar from the gunshot had been the day they met for the first time.

A shiver incomparable to any other invaded the back of her neck and spread throughout her system, not to mention the tingling in her forehead that almost made her jump backwards. 

She doesn't even remember if she breathed in all the time Ava prolonged the kiss on her head until the eventual parting.

“This is for you to recover better.” Ghost smiled wryly at her, regaining her usual humor and confidence that was enhanced by how stunned the brown woman was. “I think I need another drink; do you want one? Today we deserve to celebrate another moderately successful mission.”

The racing heart of one contrasted with the amusement of the other, who before returning to the bar paused to ponder a couple of things and twist her torso a bit.

“Hey, about what I said about your mask and hood...I didn't mean it. You look great in those things and if you feel comfortable wearing them all day then that's your right.”

Slowly Antonia's head moved to look sideways at the brunette standing a couple of feet behind her, with such concrete sincerity that it left her frozen in that position as she watched Ava turn away.

“Just make sure you clean them regularly, blood is hard to remove when it dries, especially on dark suits with white parts.”

The chestnut stood stunned contemplating the woman's back and then distant profile as she poured two glasses, feeling anxious as the pounding heartbeat pounded in her chest.

She kept remembering the ghost of those hands on her face all night long, neither when she went to bed nor when she fell asleep.

Chapter 2

Notes:

In this chapter there is trauma, reflection and cooking. Yeah, all in one.

The fanart belongs to "konako.art" on instagram

 

She washed her face for the third time and stood for several seconds watching her own reflection as drops of water trickled down her skin. Some slid down her healthy cheek, while others were lost in the mined valley that is the scars on the opposite side.

Nothing seemed to lessen the anxiety that was eating her up inside.

Antonia Dreykov clung to the sides of the basin with trembling hands and a jaw so tight that she thought for an instant of her teeth breaking, which is why she forced herself to take a deep breath, exhale, take a deep breath and exhale until her fingers were no longer white from the force with which they dug into the cold material.

The water stopped feeling warm, but her gaze was still almost as disturbed as it had been fifteen minutes ago when she woke up in the middle of the night, breathing hard and covered in sweat, and although she helped herself with a towel to wipe her skin, the anxious feeling did not go away.

She put her hands to her head and cringed hard even as she stood.

My greatest weapon

An unpleasant male voice she unfortunately can't forget echoed in her shattered mind, dissected pieces of her consciousness lost in mental gaps.

Eliminate target with forcefulness

Another voice, this time female and much more recent, but one that didn't elicit her confidence either, let alone identifying her as the woman who sent her to kill John Walker before the truth of it all was discovered.

I'm not here for you

She dug the fingers into her scalp and downcast eyes widened as a tear rolled down her cheek, and then another, and another.

That was her own voice. Broken, hurt, almost hysterical as for the first time in a long time she took off her mask to speak to another human being, at least for an instant. And coincidentally it was to scream at the sister of the Black Widow who was the cause of her current face and subsequent release from her father's control.

She began to sob without realizing it, it was hard to focus her eyes properly through the moisture in her eyes, and the pressure in her chest forced her to lean against the wall. She needed a modicum of stability to keep from relapsing into panic. The pounding in her head was unbearable.

And then she remembered the kiss on her forehead.

That intimate touch she had never imagined receiving from anyone.

That close memory hammered in her mind until she fell into a strange limbo. There was no longer the same intensity of pain as when she locked herself in the bathroom, but she can't be sure she's at ease either.

She doesn't know how she should feel about Ghost.

However, the memory of the moment shared in the hallway mitigated enough of the past that she can now wipe away her tears, wash her face again and sigh with her eyes closed, feeling her heart rate stabilize a little.

There are almost no traces left of the bruises and cuts on her body, her wounds were very well taken care of by Ava during these days.

As soon as she opened the door she ran into a familiar face.

“Oh, hello Antonia.” Bob greeted her with a wave of his hand and the shy smile turned to concern when he saw the woman's reddish eyes “I heard someone crying in the bathroom...or so I assumed and I didn't want to bother anyone, but... Are you okay?”

No sooner had she made eye contact than her instincts awoke, and the alert of a threat branched through her veins to the deepest part of her being.

The Void

She leapt forward grabbing the boy by the neck against the wall. The blow was not too hard, but the aggressiveness of her gaze and the unsettling tremor of her fingers closing over the throat terrified Bob, who held up both hands in a sign of peace.

“W- Wai- Wait!”

But her stuttering did nothing to mitigate the distrust in those wide-open, discordant eyes of someone who has been through countless scars, both physical and emotional, and who now won't listen to reason.

The discordant haze clouded her mind.

“It's- it's me, Bob. Bob, not the...other guy.”

It's not the first time Antonia's memories play tricks on her, and it doesn't look like it will be the last. Life's twisted sense of humor led her once again to suffer the same fear, the same horror she experienced when the whole team went into the darkness to save Yelena and Bob.

They each dealt with their own traumas, but hers clung to her consciousness like parasites that consume her insides every time the pain returns.

Her own memories end up being the knot strangling her throat. 

It took a couple of minutes for Antonia to understand where she is, who she is with and, above all, that they are safe. There is no more emptiness, no more need to fight Sentry, no more screams trapped inside her.

She blinked to full recovery, aided by the experience and by the memory of Ava that is still fresh. It is the one memory she refuses to lose in the turbulent sea that is her own head.

Her fingers went slack, she almost staggered as she took a step backward because of how shaky her knees felt and her blurred vision took a while to focus on the brown boy's uneasy but equally relieved face.

She breathed in and out leisurely, as the other team members taught her to combat the whirlwind of emotions, and was finally able to regain her characteristic expressionlessness that she is comfortable with. At least that's what she thinks.

“Are you fine?”

The silence was the answer.

“You suffered from an anxiety attack, didn't you?”

The pair of eyes so different from each other and at the same time just as dangerous bore into the man, though not in the defensive mode of before, rather with a palpable dose of curiosity.

“You probably don't remember, but a few days ago we had a similar situation where you forgot that I'm not the other dark subject anymore and tried to hit me.”

“I remember.”

“Oh...okay, well...I feel uncomfortable assuming you had forgotten.”

Fatigue, tiredness and the constant pang in her head lead Antonia to lower her eyelids in boredom and avert her gaze, pondering whether it's worth returning to her room. Every second convinces her that it will be impossible for her to go back to sleep after the wave of anxiety that hit her.

“I also suffer from nocturnal episodes that make me get out of bed, I've suffered from them since I was...umm...since I was very young, yes, very young.”

“...”

“Cooking helps me clear my mind.”

“Cooking?”

“I know nobody does that kind of thing at this time of night, but it's very useful, I recommend it.”

Antonia stared expressionlessly at the one-time menace to the entire city, now resuming some of her usual naive excitement.

She turned her head in the opposite direction with her gaze lowered, anchored to her own hand. Antonia studied the subtle trembling of the fingers that just minutes ago almost squeezed the neck of one of the members of her new family.

Her new family

She sighed exhaustedly with her face outlined toward the ceiling certain that Bob could sense her frustration born of indecision even with her back toward him.

It was times like this that she missed her skull mask the most.

 

. . .

 

“You have to stir non-stop over low heat for exactly thirty seconds to achieve the desired consistency, do not rush the process and do not change the intensity of the heat.”

“Do you always cook stew this way?”

“Since I was sent to infiltrate this side of the world more than thirty years ago. This is my secret recipe, more secret than the most hidden vault of the KGB, so value my teachings, boy.”

Antonia resisted the urge to roll her eyes; a quality she envies others for how easy it is for them.

Listening to Alexei's monologues for more than ten minutes made her appreciate even more Yelena's resistance to living with him, not because she doesn't like Red Guardian, but because sometimes he won't shut up; and Bob does nothing but follow her conversation while they both cook something in the pot. Their backs are to Antonia, who is sitting with her head in one hand resting on the table, but she can see the smoke from the food beyond the pajama-clad figures.

She doesn't even understand how Alexei agreed to not only be woken up by Bob in the middle of the night, also he is enthusiastic about helping him cook in the demonstration of his “relaxation” method, something that so far only makes her wish to be swallowed by the earth.

“Good job boy, you've got talent.”

“Over time I learned to prepare food, at least enough to sustain me when...well, when I couldn't count on anyone at home.”

Home

Something stirred inside Antonia as she mentally delved into that word. Even with all she's been through, Bob has a place he can remember as home, so does Yelena, Ava, Walker; even Bucky and Alexei who were used as assassin agents by outside forces and still have periods of time in their pasts to call home.

But Antonia does not.

The images of her childhood are blurred, so blurred that they are only echoes lost in the haze. Distorted memories lacking order, structure or even the slightest understanding.

Taskmaster only knows she was coming home from school before an explosion, that's all. She can't even remember what her school uniform looked like.

Maybe her old home was warm, with a loving mother and father.

Or maybe her home was The Red Room because she spent so much more time there than anywhere else, though she can't remember much of that either.

No.

None of that is true.

No father would turn his own daughter into a murderous pawn with no voice or vote; a puppet devoid of life or expressiveness, programmed only to fulfill horrific missions. Hundreds of girls pulled for decades by the same strings that once controlled her...and today the ghost of those strings lingers on her shoulders.

The smell of the stew served to free her from the chains of the past and settle her into the present, the present of being in one of the tower kitchens under a bright light and listening to the exploits of Red Guardian during his glory years.

Now the growling of her own stomach didn't feel so bad.

“It's your turn.”

Living there helped her tolerate the awkward moments, perhaps that's the reason she stood watching Alexei as he spoke directly to her, his voice close to the universal perception of a familiar.

With nothing else to do while Bob stirred the pot, she got up from her chair and checked everything in the pantry. Many typical foods appeared before her, but her interest lay in the packets of spaghetti and tomato sauce, since that is what little she knows how to cook. On top of that she turned on one of the burners to heat water in another pot.

She stood lost in the image of the small bubbles forming at the bottom of the liquid as it heated, very slowly.

“I know that eating late at night isn't very healthy, but I'm glad to see you're willing to make up carbs.”

Antonia rolled her eyes at the older man whose size almost completely covered the thinner one. The smile between the bushy beards conveyed a serenity unthinkable for someone who spent years in a forgotten prison in the middle of the snow.

Just after dropping the spaghetti in the water there was a clanking sound and the three of them turned their heads to see Bucky standing at the entrance to the kitchen leaning with one hand on each corner.

He looked interested and even a little amused as he entered the place.

“I always do a check in the middle of the night to make sure everyone is okay and not finding you guys I figured you'd be around.”

“Every night the winter soldier sacrifices part of his rest for altruistic reasons. That is admirable.”

“Thank Alexei, but next time let me know what they do after midnight.”

“I told him we should warn you before coming to the kitchen and he said it wasn't necessary.”

“But boy, why are you betraying me now?”

“Perhaps Bob has more sense than the supposed red pride of Russia!”

All four heads turned at the sound of Walker's voice announcing his presence along with Yelena and Ava at the same place Bucky entered, all wearing their respective pajamas and sleepwear.

“Yeah...I forgot to mention that in my search for you guys I ended up inadvertently waking the rest of them up.”

“I'm so grateful to Bucky for getting me out of the best sleep I've had in years, just what I needed." Yelena spat sarcasm and her slippers guided her to peek over Antonia's shoulder “Impromptu late night breakfast meeting?”

“More like these counts as lunch.”

“Double lunch.

“Smells good. What is it?”

“It's my secret recipe, you'll love it.”

“That's not true, I remember that stew when I was a child and it tastes like burnt smoke.”

“I've been helping him stir it for quite a while.”

“Will that help?”

“I doubt it.”

“I don't usually trust Yelena's judgment, but she knows Alexei's culinary background better, so...”

“Wow, thank you John, your irregular trust is flattering.”

Antonia remained taciturnly stirring the spaghetti with a fork as discussions devoid of real anger prevailed around her. She was surprised that the atmosphere was not detracted by everyone's presence in the kitchen, but on the contrary.

There was more life there now.

Ava's appearance at her side, arms crossed and hip propped against the side of the oven, rattled her brain cells more than she expected, maintaining guarded eye contact.

“I didn't know you liked pasta.”

That playful, tired smile from the sudden awakening made her lower her gaze to the pot.

“I like it.”

“Did you salt it yet?”

“Not yet.”

The brunette disappeared only for an instant to return with a spoonful of salt that she stirred into the bubbling water. When their shoulders touched, Antonia swallowed and suppressed the shiver that ran down her back. For her part, Ava tasted the water with the same spoon and nodded in satisfaction.

“Now it's my turn.” Yelena peeked over the chestnut's other shoulder and snatched her fork to put one of the noodles in her mouth, grimacing as she chewed. “It's still raw.”

“It's not long since I put it in the water.”

“Don't listen to her, Antonia, you know what they say about blondes in the movies.”

“Don't make comments like that in the kitchen.”

“You heard the nanny with the Terminator arm.”

“Walker help me out this time...”

“You want my advice on what they're doing with the food? Not to be pretentious, but it looks lousy.”

“I didn't mean-”

“I doubt you can do any better, you can't even handle a single hamburger.”

“Here we go...”

 

. . .

 

“Add more pepper.”

“I don't think it's-”

“Trust me, I've made curry a thousand times, it needs more pepper.”

“Bucky, do you agree?”

“No, don't add anything else Bob, ignore Walker.”

“I can't believe it...”

“If you want, I can put the tip of a small spoon in it.”

“Yes”

“No.”

“Damn it.”

The three guys argued as they cooked the Thai curry sauce in the pan while Ava flashed her cell phone screen at Alexei.

“You need to knead just like the girl in the video.”

“I understand, then like this.” The russian super soldier dropped a handful of flour on the table before starting to roll out the dough by the ends “And then like this.”

Ava congratulated him with a pat on the shoulder as he did the process correctly, imagining how fluffy the bread would be once they had it baked.

“What's next?”

“Forming balls.”

“I have big hands.”

“Don't worry, I'll help you.”

“Give me that!”

The five team members didn't flinch or even get distracted when they heard the confrontation of the other two remaining members at the opposite end of the kitchen, where the chestnut was lifting the pan away from the blonde who was stretching her arm trying to take it away from her.

“Yelena, stop it!”

“It's my recipe and you're changing it.”

“I made it better.”

“It's not possible to make it better!” She pushed forward again, but the other arm of the Russian assassin prevented her from reaching the macaroni and cheese, which in her opinion is not perfect “It lacks vegetables.”

“That would dull the flavor of the cheese.”

“Not a single vegetable in there, you eat like a teenager.”

The quarrel comparable to that of two sisters caught the attention of Ghost, who couldn't help but smile as she watched Taskmaster go through multiple emotions, many more than she has witnessed her going through since they all stayed to live together in the tower.

Ironic as it may seem given the context, she looked relaxed.

The smell of burning food, the smoke coming from the frying pan and the shouting between Walker and Bucky that caught Bob almost put an end to the impromptu evening gathering.

They didn't even care to look at the time, it may be dawn soon or a long time from now, but no one seemed to care about that.

Notes:

Thanks for reading <3
Feel free to comment what you thought and leave kudos

Chapter 3

Notes:

I sincerely hope that Antonia Dreykov gets justice in the future and that people see what a complex character she can be.
I also plan to write a long fic focused on the adventures of The New Avengers before Doomsday and Secret Wars, but mainly expanding on the character development of Taskmaster and Ghost.
We'll see how things go, but for now, I hope you all enjoy this adorable Avatoni moment <3

The fanart belongs to "konako.art" on instagram.

 

“I want a detailed report on the losses to the city. The sooner we have the numbers, sooner we can buy the silence of those affected. And make it subtle.”

“Yes, Miss Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.”

Ava rolled her eyes without stopping her walk alongside Valentina and the assistants through the corridors of the tower. Curiously, the atmosphere surrounding the countess is tense, perhaps due to the need to send Mel on a different assignment and having to resort to three other individuals who are nowhere near as favored.

At this point, it is no secret that Valentina shows a certain preference for Mel's presence and is overly harsh with any other assistant. It is obvious, both to Ava and to all the team members, and they have no choice but to endure the aggressive tone as she solves problems that go beyond saving lives.

Such as, for example, saving reputations.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

“Then don't stare at people like that; it's disrespectful.”

Ghost intensified the mocking curiosity in her eyes as the countess filled a glass of wine when everyone arrived in the lobby, oblivious to the nervousness of the three assistants standing at a safe distance. For her part, Ava crossed her arms, also ignoring the presence of the others and focusing all her attention on the woman who was reflecting to herself with the dark brew in her fingers.

“Are you going to tell me what you want, or am I going to have to play guessing games?”

“You're not in a good mood today.”

“That's ironic coming from you.”

“One thing doesn't change the other.”

“And you think we're going to talk like teenagers after a sleepover? I don't have much time, so be quick.”

Ava gave her a forced smile before taking another step, the sound of her boots echoing on the shiny floor of the hallway.

“Get Antonia's prescription.”

“I already told you that's impossible.”

“It's not.”

“It's too risky.”

“I don't care.”

“Do you really think I would waste my time lying about something that doesn't even concern me? Don't answer that.” She took another sip from her glass, looking away and downplaying the younger woman's insistence. “What you're asking me to do involves-”

“I'm demanding it.”

“What you're asking me to do involves rummaging through lost records from The Red Room. Digging through tons of information destroyed by the Russians just to find out how many grams of amitriptyline were in the candy they gave your little friend under her daddy's control.”

“It's not as irrelevant as you want to make it sound, and you know it.”

“I know, and to be honest, I'm not interested right now. I have more important things to deal with; for example, how prone you all are to tearing up entire streets to stop a simple organized robbery. Seriously, is it just me, or are Yelena and Bucky doing a terrible job as leaders?”

“Changing the subject won't make you right, nor will it stop me from putting a knife to your throat if necessary to get you to give me the prescription.”

For someone so tough, you're annoyingly empathetic toward others.

The only girl among the attendees swallowed nervously, hugging her folder, a reaction not unlike the other two who watched silently as the tense exchange of unstoppable forces refused to give ground.

After a few seconds, the countess sighed, exhausted from the miserable day that was not yet over, drank what was left of the wine in her glass, and looked up and down at the Avenger, who stood with her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

“You care a lot about her, don't you?”

“That's none of your business.”

“You're right, it's none of my business, I don't even know why I'm asking.” She took out her phone to check the notification she had just received, and her expression almost lit up, as if she had momentarily forgotten the tension in the air. “I have to go.”

Ava raised an eyebrow, deducing Valentina's reason for changing her attitude so much, or rather, who had made her change the attitude.

“I'll see what I can do for your dear Taskmaster.”

"You better.”

“I can't promise anything. What you want is illegal, and I've already had enough unpleasant meetings with politicians with egos the size of mountains.”

“Since when you care about doing illegal things, Valentina?”

“Since today.”

“Liar.”

“I know.”

A final glance with a fake smile marked the end of the interaction, and Ava watched the woman walk away with the seductive grace she conveyed in her gait, followed by the assistants toward the elevator.

The sound of heels gradually faded away until all that remained was the captivating silence of the lobby.

A quiet environment with which she feels comfortable despite the memories of the past, since it was common for her to be alone for long periods of time before and after S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited her as an assassin.

Sometimes she would just stare at the wall, hugging her knees, imagining that the accident had never happened and that at any moment she would wake up with her parents alive.

An illusion that, fortunately, did not last forever, leaving only the physical pain of her unstable powers.

Nostalgia soon set in, and with little else to do for the rest of the afternoon, she decided to plug in the tablet she had stored in one of the drawers. Grabbing a large cushion from the armchair, she sat on the floor with her back against the wall and a perfect view of the sky through the windows to her right.

Warm tones among the clouds tried to convince her to lie down on one of the armchairs, but there were no outlets in that area, and she needed to charge the battery to continue reading. Besides, she had been accustomed to sitting that way since she was a child.

It made her feel more relaxed, more natural despite the condition of her molecules.

She had barely turned on the screen when the sound of familiar boots reached her ears, and she smiled as she recognized who they belonged to without having to look up.

“I didn't expect you to be here.”

“Neither did I.”

“I thought you'd be sleeping. How are you?”

“I heard your argument with Countess Valentina.”

Ava's eyes froze on the screen, her smile fading before she looked up, encountering black shorts, a blue hooded shirt, and eventually Antonia's usual expressionless face.

She really liked seeing that the mask was slowly becoming less necessary for her friend.

“Were you hiding?”

“No, I knew you guys were back and I wanted to hear any news.”

“And you overheard us by chance...” She nodded to herself as she looked at the letters on the digital book on the tablet. “Does it bother you that I keep meddling in that matter?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“But I'd prefer if you didn't.”

Surprise crossed the brunette's brow before she looked up and, seeing no hint of hostility from Taskmaster, shifted slightly on the cushion, inviting her to sit with her without breaking eye contact.

“Do you want to tell me why?”

An inexplicably comfortable silence filled the hallway, distancing itself from the tension that had been present that night when Ava tended to Antonia's wounds. It felt different; less dangerous to venture into unknown territory for both and more accessible for the Russian assassin to sit next to Ava, hugging her own knees.

“I don't like causing you trouble.”

“You're not causing me trouble.”

“You've been arguing a lot with the countess lately.”

“Actually, almost all of us argue with her, or with each other, so I don't see anything wrong with that.” She exhaled, returning to the paragraph she had been reading, also attentive to the behavior of the woman next to her. “During my most vulnerable moments, I had no one to help me, except for a good man whom I respect very much. I don't want you to go through the same thing alone if there's any way to avoid it."

“A good man?”

“Yes, he was like a father to me and saved my life despite the problems it caused him.”

Silence fell again, and now Ava noticed the glances Antonia was stealing at the tablet in her hands, fueling various levels of curiosity between them.

“Ava.”

“Mmh?”

“I'd like to get to know you better.”

In response, Ava moved closer to Antonia, taking care not to make her uncomfortable by resting her head on her shoulder and sharing her warmth. She closed her eyes for a second, feeling the subtle tremor in Antonia's body before raising the screen to a height that was comfortable for both.

“This is one of my favorite books. It's called The Lost Mouse's Burrow, and it's about... well, that: the daily life of a mouse. Time hasn't been kind to this book, and there aren't many physical copies available, but for now I'm happy to have it in digital form. I'm quite fond of it, even though it's a children's story.”

“It sounds nice.”

“Do you remember any books or stories from your childhood?”

“Unfortunately, not.”

Ava chose not to delve into her friend's battered memory.

“Did you have other interests?”

“You mean hobbies? Not so many; since my... since my parents died, I lost the will to do anything other than survive, or endure the pain in my body.”

“I read your files. I'm sorry for what happened to you.”

“It could have been worse.” She turned to the next page with a swipe of her finger and a quick glance at part of the face above her. “S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra, Valentina Allegra de Fontain. It's all the same, just with different names. To them, you'll always be expendable when the time comes, which is why I don't trust anyone but you guys.”

“They made you do some really bad things, didn't they?”

“Horrible things.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Deep down, I feel a lot of guilt, but it was either fulfilling the mission they assigned me or be thrown into the incinerator in a bag.”

“I know that feeling.”

“Another thing we have in common.”

They took a break from talking while both continued reading, one with pure nostalgia and the other immersed in curiosity.

Antonia understood almost nothing of the story before her eyes; she lacked context and hadn't read the previous pages, but sitting with Ava and feeling the warmth of her cheek on her shoulder was enough to make her experience an unprecedented sense of calm, to the point that her head began to sway and her eyelids felt heavy.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm just sleepy.”

“It looks like you haven't slept much.”

“Sometimes memories come back and it's hard to close my eyes. I don't feel calm.”

“Could it be withdrawal? Maybe a side effect of what they forced you to take when...”

“I don't think so; the drugs they gave me in The Red Room aren't addictive.”

“But it's still important to find out the prescription to see if there could be long-term consequences.”

“It's been years since then, and I don't feel that different.” She resisted the urge to rub her own cheek against the head of the woman curled up next to her, although she couldn't do the same with the scent of dark hair near her nose. “Thanks for caring.”

“You can count on me.”

“Always?”

“As long as you don't tell anyone I have a favorite children's book. I don't have enough hands to slap them all when they make fun of me.”

“I wouldn't make fun of you.”

“I know, but you can't say the same for Yelena or John, or Valentina.”

“In that case, I'll keep your secret.”

Ava stepped back momentarily to raise an eyebrow, smile knowingly, and lift her pinky finger without breaking eye contact.

“Do you promise?”

That was one of the few times Antonia regained some of her most genuine smile, which had been stolen by years of suffering, control, and loneliness. She looked down at the touch of their pinkies sealing the deal, enjoying the slight electric current that ran through her arm.

“I promise.”

Ghost curled her lips at how childish she felt seeking such an interaction, an interaction born of the spontaneity of two people just trying to live another day.

She rested her head on the Russian assassin's shoulder again and resumed reading, unconsciously intertwining her fingers at thigh level.

Time seemed to stand still for both as their eyes scanned the words from side to side; there was no longer any need to have the tablet connected, and little by little the weight of emotions fell upon them like a blanket impossible to remove.

They reached an advanced section of the book when the brown-haired woman's head fell forward again before blinking several times. As if that weren't enough, her relaxed breathing and body revealed how tired she really felt despite her attempts to hide it.

“You should go rest.”

“I want to stay here a little longer.”

“We can continue another time.” She whispered, turning off the screen and gently squeezing Antonia's hand. “You are very skilled at what you do, but even the most experienced will have difficulty saving lives if they are not sufficiently rested.”

“At the moment, there is no threat to face.”

“You never know.”

The sound of defeat coming from closed, scarred lips made Ghost pause for a moment, and her attention fell on the armchairs a few feet away.

“Come with me.”

Still sleepy and rubbing her eyelids with her knuckles, Antonia let the brunette guide her as they got up, their hands still clasped as they walked through the lobby. The sky, less warm than half an hour ago, encouraged the desire to sleep, which was contrary to what her mind wanted.

Before she knew it, she was lying on one of the sofas with her head and neck on the pillow that Ava had placed on her own lap, so that they could look into each other's eyes while one hand tangled its fingers in her brown locks.

The caresses on her scalp made Antonia sigh with relief and close her eyes for a few seconds.

“Sometimes...you're unfair.”

“I am.”

“I told you I wanted to stay with you a little longer...and you make me go to bed.”

“I won't deny that I like achieving my goals, although in this case my concern is genuine.” She chuckled softly as she continued to trace the scars hidden beneath her hair, sensing how comfortable the woman felt now with her head resting on her lap “Does this help?”

“Yes...”

“Do you want me to stop?”

A simple contemplative glance was enough for her to continue what she was doing.

“Sleep.”

The minutes passed with the same solemnity as the sky outside lost its hues and the entire lobby was painted a grayish blue, very much in keeping with the sea of complicated emotions.

Ava trusted that Antonia had fallen asleep and touched the most recent wounds on her face, all of which were almost completely healed.

“Tell me how the alteration of your molecules feels.”

“For someone on the verge of fainting, you're very stubborn about falling asleep.”

“Please, I want to know more.” Without opening her eyes, Antonia settled more comfortably on the soft surface, relaxing her limbs and letting her guard down “Does it still hurt?”

“Not as much as before, not nearly, but there's still a sharp pain. It goes unnoticed if you don't pay attention to it, at least until I'm forced to use my power constantly in a short time.”

“That's why you also train a lot, to fight with knives and bullets...”

“And not rely solely on the limits of my body, exactly.”

“I'm glad you no longer have to go through the hell you told me about...”

“You don't have to either, Antonia, and that makes me happy too.”

The brown-haired girl didn't change her posture or open her eyes when she emitted what sounded like an exhausted purr, which didn't stop Ghost from smiling hilariously with her eyebrow arched.

In fact, the change of scenery allowed her to see a new side of Taskmaster that perhaps no one else in the world knows. A relentless killing machine when she wears the skull mask, and a broken girl desperate to be saved when she takes it off.

Her other fingers traced soothing patterns on her face, lost in her own thoughts.

One of Antonia's knees remained slightly raised on the back of the sofa, giving Ava a clearer view of her legs as the girl fell into a deep sleep.

She looked closely at the superficial burns that were surely left behind after the explosion that started the nightmare from childhood, or perhaps they were from the months before the whole team met.

Ava couldn't even be sure if the cuts on her thigh were from physical altercations or were caused by Antonia herself in a fit of self-inflicted suffering under her father's control.

That last word in her mind sent her spiraling into memories.

“The man who saved me and was like a father to me is called Bill, Bill Foster. A good man who took the difficult path of looking after me, which caused him certain problems with other superheroes I know.” She stretched her back against the soft cushions as she stared at an invisible point on the terrace and lazily stroked the sleeping woman's head. “I don't know where he is now, and maybe that's for the best for now, so he stays safe... although it would be nice to visit him. It's complicated.”

She brought a hand to her own forehead as she realized the lump in her throat and the uncomfortable pressure behind her eyes, laughing ironically as tears clouded her vision before rolling down her cheeks.

“God, I don't even know why I'm telling you all this.”

Ava Starr composed her expression as best she could give the pain that was almost overwhelming, but that didn't stop a couple of drops from falling on Antonia's head when she leaned over to look at her closely. There was so much peace in that face, so much tranquility as she slept in her lap, as if she weren't someone dragging chains that were impossible to break. Her chest rose and fell serenely with each breath from her half-open lips.

“Sometimes I think you hurt me with your curiosity.” She said with a trembling sigh and smiled, still overcome by the tears that clouded her vision “Do you think…you can keep doing it?”

She gently touched her cheek, unsurprised that it wasn't enough to wake her, and leaned closer until her lips touched her forehead. A long, lingering kiss near her temple as the pain seemed to melt into something else, something new for Ava, who could no longer tear herself away from the killer resting peacefully in her lap.

It took her quite some time to comprehend the true cause of the warmth in her chest, the strong beating of her heart, and the chill at the back of her neck.

One of her hands reached out to take Antonia's limp hand on her own stomach and cover it with hers, intertwining their fingers in a different way than when they had been huddled against the wall, but it unleashed the same feelings inside her as she enjoyed the touch and the relaxed breathing beneath her.

Notes:

Thanks for reading <3
I'm really excited to write the little crossover between Kate Bishop and The Thunderbolts. When? No idea, but it will happen, and it will be fun.
Feel free to comment what you thought and leave kudos

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Marvel ships F/F