Chapter Text
Adjusting is hard. The toll on her body after Christmas is measurable. Not even a weeks stay at the Barton farm is enough to allow Kate the feeling of reprieve. All she feels Is guilt, and an unending desire to do more. To be useful.
Returning to New York is worse somehow, with the busy city folk constantly moving about and always having such an air of purpose about their movements. Kate attempts to stay focused, she really does. To begin with its just patrols around her neighbourhood, sometimes listening in on police scanners, but not much comes up.
So when there’s a knock at her door near the end of January she flinches. Because no one knows her anymore, no one is here to care. Clint is back on the farm, and he calls regularly, but sometimes the distance is still too much.
“Kate Bishop, open the door, Clint sent me,” an unfamiliar female voice echoes through the door, sounding more impatient than even Clint.
Approaching the door and preparing to open the many locks she had installed over the holidays, Kate realises this could be a trap. Not that these types of realisations have ever stopped her before.
Pausing, Kate decides it’s better to be safe than sorry. Running as silently as she can, she grabs the ronin sword, graciously gifted to her by Clint, and tucks it into the waist band of her pants.
“What’s your name?” Kate calls out to the door, keeping some distance.
“Melina May,” is sighed out. Ok, rude.
Kate swings the door open, ready to be kidnapped or assaulted, but is greeted by a short Asian woman who looks just as pissed off as she sounded. Her dark black hair is straight and hanging out around her face. Her outfit is also very simple, all black, a muscle Tee under a leather jacket, paired with thick leather pants and combat boots. She is clearly armed, but she obviously isn’t hiding that fact.
What catches Kate eye is the logo on the chest of her shirt. S.W.O.R.D. with a large globe and sword imprinted in a circle format. OH.
“You’re with sword?” Kate stutters out.
“Yes, and we want to bring you in for questioning,” Melinda spits at Kate.
“Oh ok, what over?” Kate unravels, “The things at Christmas?”.
“That’s a good start.”
Kate is unconscious before she can register the small women has moved, a cold feeling encompassing her body and taking control of her mind. For the first time in months everything is black and peaceful.
***
Waking up is jarring, because the chair she is somehow sitting up in is made of metal and its so fucking cold. Not that she hadn’t been dressed for the day. Her jeans are loose but not ugly, a dark shade of grey, and her hoodie is purple with her old archery team number on it. Yes her feet are bare, which is humiliating, but at least she wasn’t in her Hawkeye pyjamas.
The rooms she’s been taken to is simple, plain, all grey walls with one-way windows. The desk in front of her has a file sitting on it and just as Kate lets her curiosity win, the door swings open to reveal Melinda May, her current captor.
“Wow fancy seeing you again,” Kate laughs, leaning forward to place her forearms on the desk.
“Miss Bishop, nice to see you conscious again, I won’t apologise but I know how it feels,” May smirks while taking a seat across from Kate.
“Oh do you now?”
“Yes Miss Bishop, being ICE’d is never fun, but thankfully its nicer than a taser,” She replies without missing a beat.
“ICE?”
“You’ll be filled in later, let’s get to work,” May sighs, flipping open the file.
Inside Kate sees a slew of images, notes, detailed records, all informing Melinda May on Kates actions and adventures for the past month. There are photos of her in combat, mostly beside clint or fighting the tracksuits, but one standing out in particular. One of her mid fall on the side of a building. The one taken moments after her tussle with a black widow.
“Creepy, I see you’ve been stalking me,” Kate smiles, leaning back in an attempt to look unbothered.
“When an Avenger vets a candidate themselves we do thorough research, you’ve had a busy few month,” May replies.
“Avenger?”
“Clint Barton has recommended you for evaluation and potential admittance to Sword’s training program,” May leans forward, waiting to gauge Kates’s reaction.
Internally she’s screaming, every fibre of Kates being Is begging her to accept immediately, but she can almost hear Clints voice telling her to play it cool. So she tries.
“Interesting, about time the old man did something,” Kate laughs, “What’s the deal?”.
May nods approvingly at that. Nice.
“Good. Ok, you’ll be assessed by myself, I am head of combatants training here, then if you manage to survive me, I’ll hand you off to another agent for enhanced combat training. Additionally, we would have you training espionage, languages, stealth, recon, technology advances, and vehicular combat.”
The words flow through Kates ears but she’s already smiling so wide she fails to try and look even slightly cool.
“I’m in,” is all it takes to begin Kates’s journey with SWORD.
***
The first week sucks, it’s all paperwork and safety talks, doctors check her over head to toe, and she doesn’t get into an actual training room until her eighth day on campus.
The training rooms resemble that of the interrogation room, all tall grey walls with sterile looking equipment. But regardless, Kate is in black legging, and a black long sleeve muscle shirt that has the sword logo on each shoulder. Her dream is somehow becoming reality.
“Alright Bishop, let’s see what you’ve got,” May smiles.
Lifting her arms into a fighting pose, Kate prepares to advance on the women. She’s on her back before she takes her first breath. May doesn’t have appeared to have moved, still in the casual pose she had before.
Pushing harder, Kate bolts upright. Shaking off the embarrassment Kate looks for her weak spots, her stance is so casual it’s almost impossible to see anything. But never one to back down, Kate advances again. Ending in the exact same position as before, and feeling a large bruise begin to form on her lower back.
“Sloppy, we’ll take it from the beginning then,” May sighs.
***
They train vigorously, all day, every day, from 6am until 6pm, with May always watching painfully close. Kates background in martial arts is helpful but May continuously tells her there are no rules in the real world and that Kate has to learn to fight dirty.
“Again!” May demands, her arms still tucked calmly behind her back as she watches Kate complete a move on the dummy.
The combos get easier as the weeks roll on, each one May has her master manages to flow into the next, like she’s being taught a dance. But the last two hours of every day are the same, they spar, hard, and May forces Kate to use the moves she has been teaching her. For the first few weeks it ends with Kate in a great deal of pain, but eventually it doesn’t hurt as bad. Or she gets used to it.
***
Eventually May begins adding in what she calls evasion training, which is genuinely just massive obstacle courses. But Kate is ecstatic to be outside again, the grey walls of the compound begin to get depressing after you stare at them for days on end.
So whenever mid-day rolls around and May announces that Kate needs to put her boots on, she beams a smile so wide it makes May fake gag.
They slowly form some kind of weird bond, as May gets to know Kates’s humour, and Kate realises May actually does care about her safety, not just drilling her with instructions. But nothing brings them closer than when May gets to humble Kate with the obstacle set ups.
Because being a sword facility, they aren’t your old school beams and logs, they are artificial lasers and moving metal poles. Things that do real damage if you mess them up. Somehow the course changes too, it’s never the same, and it always tries to find a way to trip you up. But its outside, so Kate doesn’t care.
She finds out later that it’s an invention Stark and Banner made, hence the scary advanced technology. Which naturally Kate goes crazy over, asking May another five thousand questions, all of which receive one-word answers.
But she does improve, rather quickly to May’s surprise.
“Stop trying to anticipate the next move Bishop!” May yells, “Let your instincts take over!”.
With a long slow breath Kate moves forward again, into the maze of lasers and beams. The first few weeks suck, the weeks after that only hurt a little bit, causing Kate to fall into her cot aching and bruised for more days than she can count.
***
The obstacle course becomes easier after a few more weeks, Kates body begins to transform, slowly but surely turning into the athlete she needs to be in order to survive. But it still hurts every time May puts her on her ass.
So far Kate has managed to pin May once, and land three hits in total.
Classes aren’t much better, but they offer her a chance for human interaction that doesn’t involve May. They cover topics that Kate assumes are standard; History, Weapons, Survival, Aircrafts, Vehicles, First Aid, and target analysis. The last one is Kates biggest flaw she soon realises, with her natural instinct to trust everyone proving to be a problem.
Before she knows it, it’s been four months. But ever determined, Kate pushes, with one goal in mind. Graduation.
Sword call it grad day, when new agents are honoured for making it through their intensive training, gaining their badges, and being assigned their first mission. But the catch is, students don’t graduate until their supervising officer determines they are ready. So Kate doesn’t hold her breath, simply focusing on May and hanging on every word she says.
***
Losing track of the days, weeks and months, Kate doesn’t even try to focus on her schedule, it hasn’t changed. Throwing her covers off before her alarm even sounds, she dresses in her usual uniform, all black and leather clinging to her now rippling muscles.
She gathers her boots and jacket, slipping her feet into the worn leather and lacing them tightly. Looking around Kate takes in her space for what seems like the millionth time. Light grey walls surround her, a wide floor to ceiling window faces the outside oval, filled with a running track and various obstacle courses. The couch that sits under it is black and positioned there for Kate’s preferred late night over thinking sessions. The flat screen TV on the adjacent wall is fairly new but barely gets any channels so it often stays off. Kate had requested a few DVD’s to be sent in but every attempt had been blocked by security.
Kate had yet to work out where exactly this training facility is, but she doesn’t linger on it. The kitchen is always stocked with various foods and meals, all on her requests. But the hall does have a banquet kitchen if she forgets to put her order in. There are many other agents here for training, most of them in what they refer to as classes, much like high school. But for whatever reason they have, May never trains Kate with them, insisting her training be one on one.
The single bedroom she has is equip with a small double bed, with a shitty mattress, grey and black sheets, and two pillows. The room has a desk, bookshelf, and a small reading chair, keeping everything very simple. The book shelf came pre-stocked, filled with history books, detailed manuscripts of missions, espionage biography’s, and many more titles aimed to teach students something valuable. Initially Kate ignores the bookcase. But eventually, with minimal things to keep her occupied late at night, she caves and begins reading. Eventually finding a book outlining in vivid detail the life of Natasha Romanoff, titled “The life of a Black Widow”. Its horrifying, and clearly written by someone who knew her well, or potentially was a widow themselves, because it talks about their training methods in detail. Kate takes frequent breaks but manages to finish it. Just like she manages to demolish the entire bookshelf in what feels like two weeks.
The space is too plain and simple, it hurts, but Kate knows it isn’t permanent. She stops asking for personal items after her third attempt to beg May ended with Kate pinned to the floor in a very painful headlock. The pain of her arm and neck being twisted at an inhuman angle didn’t hurt, not compared to the words May hissed out at her.
“This place is designed to create weapons Bishop, not people, but to make you capable we have to strip you of your individuality and build you back up. Build you better”.
The shiver that had run through Kates body seemed to touch her mind at the realisation that she would have to conform to their standards here or fail at everything she ever wanted. So she complies.
But the days become easier, the challenges less difficult, so as she walks out of her bland apart door and hears it click behind her, Kate pushes towards her dream once more.
The gym doors bang open soon later as Kate stalks into the main area, just to find her usual meeting spot empty.
“May?” Kates calls out.
“Bishop, report to area 12 with full tactical,” the overhead intercom bellows.
“Oh fuck,” Kate laughs, having jumped slightly.
Knowing she won’t have much time before May send her on laps for being late, Kate bolts to the locker room and gears up. She pulls on her thick Kevlar slacks, clips her bullet proof vest on, straps her weapons on (two hand guns, four knives, six throwing knives and her bow and quiver) before grabbing her field bag and running to the exit doors.
Area 12 is a landing strip, usually filled with cadets running drills, quin jets and helicopters. And it’s on the other side of the facility. It’s a long run. But Kate makes it.
“Not bad Bishop, six minutes and eleven seconds, you’d only be slightly dead if this were real” May snaps and she adjusts her own field bag.
“Sorry Agent May, I forgot how far 12 was from the gym,” Kate huffs, slightly winded from running in all her gear.
“Save it, no excuses, get in,” May throws over her shoulder, already walking towards the open loading ramp of the nearest quin jet.
They both stow their gear on the right-hand side of the jet and May takes the pilot seat, motioning for Kate to join her in the cockpit. Kate hesitates when she is seated, she’s never done up a jet harness before. There are a lot of straps. Not wanting to make a fool of herself she discreetly looks over at Mays and copies the pattern, locking herself in.
“Go for Delta Theta 4?” May says into the headset, flicking various switches that make the quin jet hum to life.
May points to the head set in front of Kate and she quickly throws it over her ears.
“Delta Theta 4 is a go, clear and ready,” the headphones crackle out.
“See you on the down side,” May smirks, shocking Kate with actual emotions for once.
“Enjoy the view,” the headset mumbles, sounding like they may have laughed while speaking. Weird.
The flight is short, and almost entirely upwards. With the quin smoothly ascending at an even pace. After maybe five minutes of floating up through the clouds, May flicks five buttons, removes her head set and stands from her seat. Kate follows quickly.
“Alright Bishop, emergency protocol 7, gear up,” May yells, hitting a button on the quin that makes red lights start flashing and an alarm go off.
Kate doesn’t hesitate, grabbing a backpack and fastening it to her shoulders going through the procedure over and over. But 7 has to be the wrong one, because 7 is-
“WAIT!” Kate snaps her head in May’s direction right as the loading ramp fully opens.
“Have a nice trip Bishop,” May smirks, shoving Kate smoothly out the rear end of the Quin jet.
Air rushes across Kates’s face rapidly, her hair whipping her skin and her eyes burning with the intensity of the air around her. All she can see is sky, because she is facing the wrong way. Twisting harshly Kate attempts to relax. Remember your training she tells herself.
Looking down at the encroaching earth she can just make out the facility that must be the training grounds. Leaning forward Kate picks up speed, moving head first towards her target. She double checks her pack, readying her pully system for the right deployment moment.
When she can make out the landing strip she pulls back slightly, attempting to slow her momentum, and places her hands on the pulleys.
When she feels like she might simply hit the tarmac and die she pulls, with all her strength she pulls. The parachute opens, thank Thor, and Kate is yanked backwards with a painful amount of force. But the move works perfectly, Kates boots hitting the cement seconds later and the parachute landing gracefully behind her. She keeps walking after her touchdown, unclipping the pack and walking towards a now very smug agent May, who happens to be sitting on the ramp of a now parked quin jet. Briefly admiring how fucking cool that must have looked.
“A little heads-up next time would be just peachy May,” Kate snaps, fixing her hair and attempting to look unphased.
“Did you scream?” May says, still fucking smirking.
“No,” Kate replies.
“Sure.”
***
Mays course on “working with heights” is all survive or die. In the next few days, she throws Kate out of various aircrafts, off buildings, ledges, and even teaches her how to repel off skyscrapers. Somewhere deep-down Kate knows this may save her life one day, but she hates every second of it non-the-less.
***
Weapons training is somehow worse than her mandatory 3 hours of theory classes each day.
Much worse.
Because May insists Kate should know how to use a wide variety of weapons.
They train with small blades, large blades, swords, axes, bats, and much to Kates’s disgust, guns.
“The most commonly used weapon in the world is a gun Bishop, if you can’t use one, you can’t fight against one,” May recites for the hundredth time.
“I just don’t like them,” Kate grunts back.
“And I don’t care, when you graduate you can choose to use an ICE’er instead but for now, draw your weapon,” May orders.
The metal in her hands always feels wrong, so final and life ending.
But her aim is as immaculate as ever, bullseyes every time, regardless of the weapon. May almost looks impressed the first time she empties a mag entirely through the one bullet hole in the targets head.
The one-time Kate actually gets a nod of approval, maybe six months into training, when she’s using a long-scoped sniper rifle. May informs her there are five targets.
“There are six,” Kate mumbles back, her eyes fixed through her scope as she lays on the facility rooftop scanning the surrounding hills.
“Oh really?” May laughs.
“Yep.”
Snap. Her rifle fires as intended, and Kate doesn’t have to wait to see the target in the first hill fall down.
“Confirmed, target 1 is a bullseye,” the radio on May’s hip sounds off. Kate reloads with a finely practiced movement, the metal clicking as she does so.
Snap. Reload. Snap. The two targets poking out from behind one of the trees in the forest edge both fall down.
“Confirmed, target 2 and 3 are bullseyes.”
Snap. Reload. Snap. The two consecutive snaps are heard as Kate takes out the other two painfully obvious targets on the further off hills.
“Confirmed, targets 4 and 5 are a hit, bullseyes.”
Kate takes a long, deep breath, her eyes finding the top of a black human shaped target on the top right-hand side of the field. She doesn’t check her scopes distance; she doesn’t want to know. Squeezing the trigger, she releases her breath.
Snap.
“H-Hit confirmed, T6,” the radio crackles, “Bullseye”.
They stay in silence for a few seconds, Kate waiting with a smug grin.
“Bishops did you get a check on you distance before firing?” May asks, sounding like she had seen a ghost.
“No, wasn’t important,” Kate replies, getting to her feet.
“Control, distance check to T6,” May speaks into her radio.
“Confirmed, distance from current location to T6 is 2,125 meters.”
There is silence again, and May is glaring at Kate with an expression that would melt most people into a puddle of terror. Kates used to it now.
“You have perfect aim,” is all she states, still furious.
“Well, I am Hawkeye,” Kate laughs.
“That shot, was perfect, the longest confirmed kill on record is from 3,800 meters,” May snaps, “Do you not understand what this means?”.
“That I’m one hell of a shot?” Kate shrugs, “But I could probably do that distance if we are being honest”.
May just continues to glare at the archer.
They don’t talk for the rest of the day.
***
As Kate’s months roll on at Sword, she recalls her training; hand to hand is always hard, resulting in many bruises and cuts, the obstacle courses get easier with practice, height aren’t fun, weapons are cool, stealth training takes some getting used to, and enhanced combat is where she almost dies.
May eventually has Kate face other cadets and agents in hand-to-hand combat. One cadet, Eli, throws Kate that hard into the gym walls she breaks four ribs and is knocked out cold for four hours. Its humiliating, but May doesn’t hound her about it. She even takes it easy on Kate for a few weeks.
It takes Kate weeks to manage even staying on the mat with Eli. He never speaks to her. At first they fight in silence. The sounds of their punches and bodies crashing together reverberating off the walls and filling Kates ears for weeks on end.
But eventually after multiple attempts at jokes and quips, Eli cracks a smiles. That opens up a whole new avenue for Kate, finally having someone she can joke with in this bland facility.
Eventually she does it. She uses a fly kick to crack the heel of her boot into the side of Eli’s face. He falls to the ground groaning and holding his face. May calls it as a win. She isn’t happy, but May never is. So Kate takes the win and goes reports for weapons training.
***
“Report to M2 0700” is written in neat scrawl, stuck to Kates’s locker.
There isn’t much time, so Kate jogs, her ribs no longer protesting after the weird healing drugs they gave her.
M2 is a meeting room, often used by classes when evaluating a mission or watching body cam footage of scenes.
So when Kate burst through the door expecting to see agent May she immediately wants to fall to the ground and smack her head into the polished concrete.
“Kate Bishop, nice to finally meet you,” a slender brunette woman smiles, standing from her seat at the head of the table to greet Kate.
“Y-Your Dai-“ Kate chokes ever so slightly.
“Director Johnson,” A deep voice bellows across the room, coming from a large man stood stock still in the corner.
“Daisy is fine,” the brunette smiles, offering Kate her hand to shake.
“Holy Thor, you’re Quake,” Kate stutters out, shaking Daisy’s hand firmly.
“God I never liked that name, Mac here always called me tremors,” Daisy laughs, walking to her seat and motioning for Kate to sit across from her.
“Did I do something wrong?” Kate asks, now fully aware she was having a sit down with the director of sword.
“The opposite, May informs me you are ready for assignment,” Daisy smiles.
“She does?” Kate balks.
“Yep, hard to impress that one, she was my SO as well, so consider yourself special.”
Daisy pulls out a file similar to the one May had the first day she was abducted and begins flipping through.
“Fantastic scores, your report resembles many outstanding agents, but I have a feeling you’ll do better out infield when things are run your way hmm?” Daisy smiles with a knowing look.
“Yes ma’am,” Kate nods.
“Oh ew no don’t do that, Daisy is fine, or agent Johnson.”
“Ok sorry, but yes, I’d love to be back in my own apartment too if that’s possible?” Kate secretly hopes.
“That’s what I am here to tell you, you aren’t like the other cadets Kate, you’ve managed to complete May’s painfully detailed and specific training program in just under a year,” Daisy nods, smiling at the papers in front of her.
“You will graduate this weekend, and your station will be announced, along with your first assignment, as is tradition,” She continues, “I’ve organised everything myself, it’s not every day we get an avenger level legacy come through”.
The smile that breaks out on Kates’s face is almost painful, but this is everything she has ever wanted. Real missions, real people, a purpose, a way to help, and done her way.
***
The oval is transformed. With sword logos and posters lining the walk ways, and hundreds of thick black chairs in rows set out across the lawn.
The graduating cadets are sat behind a curtain that has been assembled, keeping them hidden from the guests that are now taking their seats.
Reaching her left arm out and flexing her fingers, Kate tries to steady her breath just like may taught her. She knows her family isn’t out there, they can’t be, but a small part of her mourns them. With the lightest of tears welling in her eyes, Kate lets herself long for lost ones just a few second longer.
Kate spaces out for most of the presentation, hearing name after name called out, their cheers, the assignment they have been given, and the claps of what sounds like hundreds of people. But as Kate moves closer to the stage, she realises she is the last go through. No pressure.
Her formal uniform resembles that of the Navy, with black fabric that is cut to fit her body and strong outlines of the sword logo.
Adjusting the lapels her formal Sword uniform, Kate takes one last long breath before stepping out onto the stage. The cheers are deafening. Even if these people have no idea who she is, they cheer regardless.
“Congratulations, Kate Bishop,” The announcer calls.
“Forever, furthermore, known as Agent Bishop, code name ‘Hawkeye,” Cheers erupt even louder.
Shaking Daisy’s hand as practiced, Kate scans the crowd, appreciative of these people before her even if she will never see them again. But as she scans, a familiar head of dirty blonde hair catches her eye.
A man, older, with a sleeve of tattoos and eyes that have seen too many horrors. Beside him, a beautiful middle-aged brunette, two young boys, and a young girl. The Barton family are here. The thought strikes Kate so painfully hard she forces herself to swallow the sob that nearly escapes.
They are sitting front row, in what appears to be a VIP section. The kids are wearing the cringy Hawkeye t-shirts Kate got them for Christmas, Laura is smiling so wide it hurts to watch. And Clint? Clint is slow clapping, loud and proud, with tears in his eyes and an aura of pride surrounding him. The sight almost brings Kate to her knees.
“Agent Bishop,” Daisy speaks into the microphone.
Kate snaps into attention, saluting her director with practiced finesse.
“Your posting will be… New York Headquarters,”
Kate sighs in relief, finding some comfort in being able to go home.
“First assignment… Asset retrieval, Budapest.”
Wait. Budapest? Like the Budapest Clint always mentions, where he first met…
OH fuck…