Friendly Fire, 3/6.
Title: Friendly Fire
Series: #16 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires, #4 - Broken Underneath, #5 - Change Is Coming Soon, #6 - Lick Your Wounds, #7 - Bitter Sparks, #8 - Father's Will, #9 - To Feel Safe Again, #10 - Hit Your Prime, #11 - Open Your Eyes, #12 - Can't Be Ignored, #13 - Make You Ill, #14 - Aim Straight, #15 - Not The First Time)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: R
Pairing: Loki/Natasha, Natasha/Yelena, Natasha/Winter Soldier
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-Avengers, AU to the rest of MCU. Read the other stories before this one, because it does refer back to events in them. Additional warning for mindfuckery of various flavors (hello, Red Room!) and detailed descriptions of violence.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups
Special thanks to phoenixrising06/
romanovasledger for plotting and characterization discussion. :)
Summary: The Red Room has returned.
Prior chapter:
One - Set Up
Two - Freedom of Choice
Three - Road to Ruin
The Black Spectre lab was located almost an hour outside of Austin, in a mostly underground bunker that appeared to be an ordinary office building. Black Spectre was very good at hiding in plain sight, and this location seemed no different. "If we destabilize their center, we can take on a number of their girls for ourselves," Yelena insisted.
Natasha felt a wariness creep into her spine, that sense of impending doom. She pushed it down and out of her immediate consciousness; that dread would only slow her down and compromise the mission. She had to be the best, especially if she had to cover for an unstable Yelena.
Going into the office building meant they needed clothing that appeared appropriate, yet could hide a number of weapons. James refused to even consider that ruse, choosing instead to be their distraction. He planned to shoot or firebomb the upper levels of the office building, triggering the alarms and deflecting attention from the lower levels, where the two women would be. "Yours is a priority mission, mine is the distraction from the actual work," he said, voice even. He knew very well what the chances were that he would be injured. "If they're truly civilians, they will duck down out of the way when I open cover fire."
"And if they're not?" Natasha asked, touching his arm in concern.
"Your life has always been more important than mine," he answered gently. "Yours is the life that must go on. I am a soldier, a weapon to be used when subtlety is not the tool needed." He covered her hand with his. "I have always understood this. I have always done the things that needed to be done, even if they are not savory."
Yelena merely rolled her eyes at the byplay. "We've covered this repeatedly," she complained.
"It's only the three of us right now, Yelena!" Natasha snapped. "You can't be so cavalier about losing one third of our people. You can't seriously want to throw away an asset."
She pouted and turned away. "He's an asset. But other assets can be made or repurposed."
"From what?"
There was no good answer for that. It was largely the reason why they were trying to pilfer agents from Black Spectre as they destroyed it.
Arriving at the office building, Yelena and Natasha breezed in easily. Security was light, as if this was an ordinary office park. No one questioned their appearance; apparently temps and assorted assistance staff rotated frequently in some of the office suites. They went straight to the back of the building, where the service entrances and elevators were. Security was tighter there at the loading dock, and their surveillance from earlier that morning had even caught sight of matte black weaponry. They were definitely in the right place.
Tactical gear had been tightly folded into their shoulder bags, and Yelena and Natasha changed quickly in one of the bathrooms. The shoes couldn't be helped, but the heels at least were chunky and not spiked. Natasha and Yelena had both been trained to run in dress shoes as well as boots, so this wasn't as grave a concern as the lack of tactical suits would have been. They weren't made of Kevlar, but the weave was tight and could prevent knife wounds from landing against skin directly the way the dress clothes would have.
As James walked into the front of the building with machine guns, the two women entered the service elevators and climbed up onto the top of each elevator car. The plan was to descend the shaft, bypassing any potential security codes that using the elevators would have required. It would make their arrival within Black Spectre barracks unannounced and more likely to succeed with fewer of the women attacking them.
That part went exactly to plan. The elevator shaft connected to various vents, and a fair number of them easily fit Yelena and Natasha. That allowed them to peer into the complex and get their bearings. "This part would have been easier if we had a trainee that was converted to our cause," Natasha grumbled in Yelena's direction. The blonde ignored it and pressed forward.
There were few women in the barracks, and it was pathetically easy to subdue them. Natasha had the sneaking suspicion that they had been wiped clean, blank slates not imprinted yet. Yelena had no compunctions about knocking them out and tying them up, intending to come back for them later. She even laughed at Natasha's concern for their state of mind. "It'll be that much easier for us to win them to our cause," she said, sounding far too much like Starkovsky for Natasha's liking.
Explosions above the complex rocked the building. That drove a number of men out of offices, some women out of labs. Natasha didn't like the implications of this, but Yelena dove right in and started literally cutting a swath through the offices. "We need intel!" Natasha tried to remind her, but Yelena ignored her. Natasha tried to grab whatever she could find on desks, even securing a laptop and attache case full of printed files. There was no time to stop and peruse its worth, or search for more. She hated not knowing if she was saving something valuable, or guarding the dross of their organization. Still, it couldn't be helped. Yelena was heading further into the lab areas. The expression on her face was almost frightening to behold.
This place reminded Natasha of the Red Room. That sent a crawling sensation down her spine, a shiver she refused to acknowledge as fear. She was in control of her mind, at least. What would these memories do to Yelena or James?
Natasha could hear the distant sound of screaming down the hall. Yelena had already messily killed every scientist she saw, heedless of the data loss and thick sprays of blood that she left behind. She was on a mission, she didn't have time to think of such things. Natasha remembered that Yelena had such issues on her Red Room missions. It was part of the reason why her scores could never surpass Natasha's. Someone always had to go behind her to clean up the mess. It hadn't been James - she never warranted attention from the Asset in that manner and had been deemed not worth the time to train with him - but someone else from Department X. It had possibly been done on purpose once they realized what Yelna would do on missions. So Yelena would paint the walls red with blood, and the Department X agent would root through the disarray to get the valuable data.
Natasha didn't like playing Department X at all. She never had.
There was screaming up ahead, not in Yelena's voice. A girl getting processed, perhaps. This was bad news, and exactly the thing they were trying to stop. Leaving the next set of labs alone, Natasha took off in a run to get to Yelena. A handler continuing with his dread work despite a breach in progress likely meant that one of the Black Spectre ladies was in the process of being programmed to defend them.
Yelena went in ahead and the door slammed shut behind her. The sound of the lock slamming into place was ominous.
By the time Natasha hacked the door open, Yelena was standing in the center of the room, electrodes at her temples, eyes glazed and gun pointed at the floor. A dusky-skinned brunette lay on the floor, her body riddled with bullets. She was lying between Yelena and a middle aged man in a white lab coat and thick glasses. The black hair was graying, and he had his hands at controls in front of him. Natasha shot the grinning scientist in the center of his forehead and pulled Yelena out of the room.
"We need SHIELD now," she hissed to James, who had reached her not too long after. "Their therapists can undo this. I can't even begin to try to figure it out."
SHIELD must have been a trigger word, though there was no way of telling which organization put it there. Her hand snaked out to grasp Natasha by the throat. "No. No one goes into my mind. I won't have strangers in there!"
Natasha didn't fight her. "I don't know what they've done, Lena. That's not my field of expertise."
"No one goes into my mind! Promise me!"
"Never without your consent, Lena," Natasha promised. "But if this gets worse, we'll need help to fix it. Can you promise me that?"
Yelena finally realized her hand was around Natasha's throat, and yanked it back, horrified. She saw James with his gun out of its holster, no doubt ready to put a bullet in her temple. Stepping back abruptly, she nodded. "All right. God, Natalia, I would never hurt you, never." She looked from Natasha to James. "You believe me, don't you? Don't you?" Her voice took on a high, panicked tone. "I love you, I'd never hurt you. If I do-"
"Then you get help. You stop resisting me, and let me get you the help to get the triggers out of your head. They're ruining our plans." Natasha pressed her lips together. "I'd rather if we did this now, before we find out the hard way what those bastards were putting in your head."
She shook her head, eyes wide and desperate. "We used them, Natalia. We played them for fools, we ran them on a chase around the globe, we stole you. They won't want to help us, they won't want to fix me. They'll lock me away, throw away the key. They would never help the likes of me, not with what I've done."
"They took me in," Natasha pointed out.
Yelena shook her head and looked over at James. "They won't take us. Our crimes are worse than yours. The death toll... No, they won't fix me, you can't be that naïve to think that they will." Her laughter was high pitched and shrill. "They'll kill me if they don't lock me up. I can't live that way again, Natalia, I can't, I can't."
Natasha pulled her into a tight embrace and then pulled in James as well. The three huddled together, and she pressed a kiss to Yelena's temple. "I'll protect you, Lena. You know I will. It's what we do for each other. You have to trust me that I can fix this. I can't lose you."
"But what if you have to?"
Thinking of Hel's words, Natasha nearly shook. "I will fix this," she promised. She held onto Yelena tight enough to bruise, her eyes shut tight. James' hand fell onto her shoulder in silent support.
She would be asked to choose, and either choice would kill her.
***
Sam looked over at Steve's clenched jaw and shut off the news. Deadly gunfire at an office building outside Austin was bad enough, but the appearance of the Winter Soldier stalking through the smoke-filled halls, automatic weapons in hand and poised to shoot, made it even worse. "Man, I'm fine. You don't need to be babysitting me in the hospital when they clearly need you there."
"If I hadn't brought you in on it..."
"Do not blame yourself for this," Sam snapped, finally getting angry. "Steve, I asked to go to Austria. I asked to help out in Japan. Natasha is my friend, too, and I have every right to be there, helping out however I can. You know she's in trouble. She's in over her head with that one, and the blonde is fucking crazy. Not pretty, but it's true. I saw it myself, the woman looked like nobody was even home."
"All the more reason to protect you-"
"Listen to yourself, Steve! I'm a grown adult and can make my own stupid ass decisions. If he wanted me dead, we wouldn't be arguing over this. The Winter Soldier wanted me out of the way, not dead. So instead of beating yourself up for something you didn't even do, think about why that might be. You know our girl must have told him not to kill us."
"You're the one that said he might not be the kind we save."
"Yeah. And I'm qualifying that right now. We didn't know it before, but I got a chance to see him up close and personal. The man moves like a machine, not a man. Not like Yelena, not like nobody's home. But it's blank, following orders and that's it. No personality, no malice. So we find out his orders, we can get around them. You might be able to dig deep and get your friend out of the mess in his head. I'm not so sure about Yelena anymore."
Steve sighed and covered his face with his hands. "Don't say we can get Bucky back just because it's what I want to hear, Sam. I know this is stupid, Hydra wiped out all traces of Bucky, but I can't help but think that this is my fault. If I caught him on the train. Or if I trusted my instincts and looked for him so that Hydra didn't get him..."
"You know why they say hindsight is twenty-twenty?" Sam asked, cutting him off. "It's because you know how it ends. You know what needs to be done. But when you're trudging forward, living the life in the real world... You're not going to know what comes next. You don't know what else is going on. It makes no goddamn sense in the world that he should've survived a fall like that. Like ordinary folk wouldn't survive going down into the ice the way you did. Steve, you can't blame yourself for what happened. You've been to my group sessions often enough to know that," he chided gently.
Steve sighed, nodding. "Yeah. But it's Bucky. He stuck with me when I was a little guy, and when I lost all my family, he was my family. I can't give up on him, can't just let him go and say he's lost now."
"Nobody said you had to," Sam pointed out. "They're just saying don't get your hopes up, in case they really did erase everything. But no matter what Hydra did to him, he isn't evil now. Keep that in mind, if no one else will. I mean, yeah, I'm not too happy he kicked my ass and shot me in Japan. But he didn't kill me when he could've. Even if Natasha told him not to, if he was really evil, he would've done it anyway and lied to her. But he didn't. He knocked me down, he knocked me out, he shot me in a place that wasn't fatal but still put me out." He pointed at his casted leg with his arm that was in a sling. Shooting Steve a pointed look, he waited until the super soldier sighed.
"Sitting here and beating yourself up isn't going to make me heal faster."
"If only we still had the super soldier serum..."
"Dude, the serum isn't what makes you special. You told me that yourself."
"But it would let you heal."
"Yeah, and so would asking Loki," Sam pointed out sharply. "But nobody thought to do that, did they? Well, other than me, and he looked downright sick at the thought. Said something about a spa or whatnot. I think after what happened in Japan, he's afraid his magic's going to fuck everything up. Which, given how into Natasha he is, I can see why he'd feel that way. Her head's probably been messed with, and the last thing he'd want to do is add to that."
Steve waited until Sam wound down. "So... How long have you been rehearsing all that in your head?" he asked with a wry smile.
"Hours. Days." Sam grinned at him. "You are miserably predictable, Steve. You're a good guy. In this situation, it's probably not going to be enough, is it? You're going to want to have some serious firepower on your side. That might be the only thing giving a soldier pause."
Drumming his fingers on Sam's bedside table, Steve looked at Sam thoughtfully. "Thor was in Fort Worth and knows about Austin. Think he'd help?"
"You know he would."
Now Steve's cheeks pinked slightly. "And there's his friend Sif in Asgard. She's a swell fighter, good with tactics."
"Swell, huh?" Sam asked in a sly tone. He laughed at Steve's sideways glance, finding it hilarious that he wasn't sure what he should or shouldn't say.
"We just flirted," Steve said with a sigh. "Never got a chance to be more than that on Asgard."
"So? Invite the girl over, talk tactics and how to take down a man with a metal arm that technically doesn't even exist. Sounds romantic to me," he added in a teasing note.
Steve shot Sam a bemused glance and shook his head. "That's not romantic."
"Take her someplace fancy afterward. That'll clinch it as a date."
"That's a pretty shitty date, I think," Steve sighed.
"If she's interested, you can do the classic stuff. If she's not interested, at least you know."
"It's embarrassing," Steve sighed. "You know how Tony gets."
"Man, forget that guy. Don't worry about what he says or does. Worry about what makes you happy. You of all people deserve it."
Smiling a little wider at him, Steve nodded. "Okay."
"All right, then. Get outta here and gimme details later."
They grinned at each other, and then Steve headed out of the door to find Thor.
***
An abandoned house in east Texas wound up being the place where Natasha, Yelena and James took the dazed women they had rescued from Austin. They had indeed been scrubbed clean prior to being placed in their barracks, and it was a blessing in disguise that they only name they knew of was "the Agency." It was easy to tell them that the Agency had been compromised, and they had to prioritize the removal of agents in order to keep them safe. "The other Agency locations will have been compromised as well, and we'll need to shut them down," Yelena declared. Her eyes lingered over the blank and trusting faces of the women, and her gaze hardened. "Your fellow agents are now compromised. It is our duty to put a stop to them and to their practices out in the field. They're killing innocents, and that's not what we're about."
Natasha managed not to snort, but only just. The helpless had simply been easier to kill.
But the women had no reason not to trust Yelena. Their minds were blank, and all they knew was that the Agency ran missions, and they were only told as much as they needed to know to run the mission. They trusted in that, and Yelena was setting herself up as their department head. She looked as though she was soaking up all of the undivided, devoted attention. At this rate, she would command them in her sleep.
Natasha looked out of the attic window, not seeing the broken frame or shards of glass jutting from it. This was the highest vantage point in the house, would allow her to see as far from it as she could. A chill ran down her spine, and she knew bad things were coming.
She couldn't save them both. If she was totally honest, she could probably barely even save herself. Everything had spun so far out of control long before she even tried to exert her will in this situation. She wasn't as good as she thought she was, wasn't as skilled. She had limits, she couldn't do it all.
But dammit, she was still going to try.
"They're asleep," James announced as he headed up into the attic. She had scared badly when he had snuck up on her earlier, and she had flushed with shame.
Starkovsky in the doorway, eyes on her as she trained, as she and other Elites were en pointe, beginning to go again through the Madame's lessons. Yelena hadn't been there that day, too many bruises and sprains. Whispers in the halls, discipline handed down without an audience, without a purpose. But there could be no discipline without purpose, not if it was based on a mission. And Starkovsky wouldn't want to break one of his dolls, especially not one of his favorite ones.
But Natasha knew the truth. He would break a doll for the fun of it, and it wouldn't bother him at all. He had plenty of others lined up once his current doll was too broken to use.
"Eleven girls," she murmured, not taking her eyes off of the insipid view outside the broken window. She should have called them women, should have given them some kind of semblance of agency. But they were erased, just shy of broken themselves, and that left them little more than girls waiting for parents to tell them what to do.
Dear God, Yelena as a parent? Or worse yet, Natasha? She couldn't do this, couldn't be a role model, couldn't show others the way. Her inability to curb Loki's temper or nature had to be proof of that.
But he tried, just as she did. He was different now, and that had to count for something, right? He could love, he could change.
And if he could, why couldn't she? Why couldn't Yelena?
James crossed the attic floor, stride heavy and full of purpose where her own had been nimble and light, more like a ghost. His metal hand fell heavy on her shoulder, his flesh and bone hand combing through the tangles in her hair. It was bright red, like freshly spilled blood, and his touch sent shivers down her spine. "We grow and change, Natalia."
Her eyes slid shut and she tried not to let her breathing change in tenor. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. It shouldn't have been this way, she could see that now.
He bent down to whisper near her ear. "We'll contain the damage. We'll keep them all safe. They won't suffer like we did. Like she did, especially."
"What do you know?" she rasped.
"What they told me. What I can guess. What I've seen done to others."
Others. Of course Yelena wasn't the only one that Starkovsky targeted; Natasha was surprised yet not at the same time. Twenty-eight girls in the Elites at a time, and Starkovsky had been present for years before they both had graduated into the Elites. The only reason why she had gotten away with as little sexual abuse as she had was that he didn't like redheads, didn't like how cold and aloof she had held herself. If he had known her heart, if he had been able to guess...
James slid his flesh hand down the curve of her jaw, then cupped her throat loosely as he stood behind her. "I can go with you. With Yelena. We can contain her, let the other girls loose on the second site we don't go to."
Natasha let loose a choked sob. "Something will go wrong with them. The other labs won't be like Austin. They'll be full force, full complement of agents and scientists and handlers, whoever is normally there. It won't be easy."
He sighed and let his hand slide down to rest over her chest, above the rise of her breaths. It was a steadying, intimate move. "Unless we decide the other agents aren't worth saving." He halted her when her mouth opened to protest. "I know they are, Natashenko," he crooned softly, lips against the shell of her ear. "I know it as well as you do. But they are the ones making this more complicated than it has to be. It could be like how we decimated the Hand if we were willing to allow that kind of collateral damage."
If he had simply been the Winter Soldier, only the asset that Department X had wanted him to be, then those women would be dead without a second thought, the other two Black Spectre sites nothing more than smoking craters. But he was no longer their puppet, and he had a mind of his own, as blank as it was in spots.
Natasha put her hands over his flesh one at her chest. "If we did that, it would be easy, but it would make us no different from Department X. We would be the same Red Room. Or AIM. Or Hydra. Or anyone else we're trying to destroy. We have to be different. We have to be better than that, we have to be."
"I know," he murmured softly, fingers twitching restlessly against her skin.
"Yelena would kill them."
"I'm not coming to Yelena."
Now she turned to look at him, wonder and pain and hope in her eyes. "We should get her checked by SHIELD. They'll take the triggers out of her mind, they'll keep it safe for us."
"They won't let her go, Natalia. They would put her on trial. If not official, then unofficially put her on some kind of probationary period. Even if they seek to convert her to their cause, they would not trust her."
"Not right away, maybe," Natasha began. "They trust me."
"Do they really?"
"A number of them have become my family, James," she reminded him gently.
"But even family can hurt. Even family could change." He lifted her so that their faces were at the same level. He kissed her softly, gently. "She changes. Deteriorates. I don't know if you can save her, Natashenko."
The cutesy nickname was likely meant to be comforting, but it chilled Natasha to the bone. It was the name of a small child, an innocent. It wasn't the name of a capable agent, of an assassin that had brought the mercenary world to its knees. She was now a child, someone small and silly and not able to take in the reality of the world. She lived on dreams and hopes and idle whims, she didn't understand how everything truly worked.
James held her as she cried, sobbing with all the disappointment and pain her heart hid away. He stroked her back, rocking her gently. "I'll watch the girls in San Francisco. I'll keep them safe and save whoever I can."
"You're going to leave Yelena and I in Atlanta, then?" Natasha asked, looking up at him with vulnerable, wet eyes.
"You need time to say goodbye," he said softly. "When you come back from Atlanta, she'll be the new Starkovsky, and I can't see you staying, no matter what you feel."
Natasha wanted to deny it, but the words stuck in her throat. There wasn't any hope of bringing in Yelena if she acted this way. "And you?"
"Your friend might want SHIELD to take me in, thinking I'm who he remembers," James started to say slowly. "But I don't think they would want to. I'm too much of a risk, too much of an unknown quantity. Any organization like them would rather put me down."
She grasped his shirt tightly in her hands. "No. I'll convince them. Director Fury would listen to me. He trusts me."
"Would he still, after what we've done? Yelena wasn't the only one that killed, Natasha. You took initiative, you did enough to aid us. They won't be able to paint you a victim of our villainy and greed. They can't explain away our deeds. We're coated in blood, Natasha. The world doesn't want to see that. They can't tolerate it."
"I won't leave you. I won't leave her."
"You could. You could walk away in Atlanta. Leave us behind."
She shook her head and bit her lip, tears shimmering in her eyes. "It killed me once to walk away, I don't think I could do it again."
Something like pity lurked in his gaze. "Oh, Natasha. You really should know better than to love us, to truly love us. We never should have let it go this far."
"But we did. Time and again, we did. That's why they punished us in different ways."
"And now we punish each other, even when we try not to."
James sighed and kissed her tenderly before drawing her close. "I can only hope the blade's bite won't sting when we become each others' ruins."
***
Sif greeted Steve warmly in the Avengers tower penthouse. "Steven!" she said with a grin, grasping his hand tightly. "It is an honor and a privilege to meet with you again!"
That was heartening, and Steve ginned at her widely. He sobered after a moment. "I wish our visit was under better circumstances, I really do," he said regretfully.
Sif's playful grin dialed back a notch. "Thor explained some of the troubles you have been going through." Her lips clamped shut when she caught sight of Loki skulking about in the back of the room. "Has there been trouble from that quarter?"
Steve followed her line of sight, and shook his head. "No, actually. He's been pretty devastated lately. Natasha's caught up in serious trouble, and he can't help get her out of it." Turning back toward Sif, Steve frowned. "He's refused to do magic in a while, actually. The last thing he did was a crying spell of some kind. I think it shook him up."
Frowning deeply, Sif tore her eyes away from Loki. "He does seem unhappy. It is good that Queen Frigga plans to visit as well."
Blinking in surprise, Steve led her into Avengers Tower, into the common area near the arrival deck. "We didn't ask her to help, though."
"But she gives aid. Natasha is recognized as a high jarl, a kin to royalty. Heimdall warned us of trickery and pain, but it was believed to be merely a human matter."
"Isn't it?"
"They are known as terrorists on your world. They have kidnapped, assaulted, and coerced an Ambassador that is deemed kin to Asgard."
The color drained from Steve's face at the stark words. "They see it as a move against Asgard."
"Likely it is not so; Thor did relay the fact that these were former comrades in arms, befouled with trickery and tonics of some kind." Sif frowned deeply and grasped Steve's arm tightly. "The honor guard had to be convinced to stay at the palace, Steven. A number may not have liked her personally, but Natasha trained with them, taught them sparring skills and opened their eyes to their true duty. Taking her also insulted their honor."
"Shit," Steve breathed.
"I have explained that time works differently between our realms to explain why you have not sought our aid sooner."
"That's part of it," Steve began.
"But I also explained the sensitive nature of the deed. That Natasha has many roles here as well as that of Ambassador, and it was not clear which role led to her capture."
"Our theory is that the publicity of being Ambassador is what tipped them off about where she was and what she was doing. Before that, she was all spy."
"And in honor of that, I have not brought the entirety of the guards with me." She paused, eyes searching his face carefully. "I hope my presence does not displease you."
The flush spread across his cheeks. "No! No, don't think that, Sif. We're just worried about Tash, and I never thought it was an interdimensional incident." He grasped her hand tightly, linking his fingers through hers before he could stop and doubt himself. "I-I, uh, missed you. Couldn't come up with a plausible reason for you to visit before."
"Could I not visit of my own accord?" she asked gently.
"You'd want to?"
Her lips curled slightly, and she leaned in close, touching her forehead to his. "Perhaps neither of us are used to speaking plainly of such things."
"I've never been good at talking to ladies I really cared about. Or wanted to care about."
"And talk of such things outside of battle has not been my strong suit as a girl."
Steve gave her a dopey grin. "So we're kinda dancing around an issue that doesn't have to be an issue, aren't we?"
"It appears so."
"I never was that good a dancer."
"I can observe social niceties, but often I find them distasteful."
"Meaning what?" Steve asked.
"Meaning we should speak plainly." Keeping their hands linked, Sif brought her other hand to his shoulder. "Thor has told me of the tradition for ladies going first."
"If a fella's going to be chivalrous and respectful," Steve agreed.
"I desire to know your thoughts," Sif told him boldly. "I desire to sup with you, to see if sharing a hearth and bed would be enjoyable."
Steve's dopey grin widened further. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that. That's what I want, too. I'm just not good at saying the words."
"Then say the ones you know," Sif urged, answering his grin with one of her own.
"I like how you fight, Sif. But it's more than that. You're smart and funny, and I like how you won't take any shit."
"I think I understand the phrasing," Sif replied, eyes lighting up.
Steve laughed. "Friends say I've got a type. Strong dames that know their own mind, can knock me down and help me back up." On impulse, he leaned in close and pulled their linked hands toward him. That pulled Sif into his chest, and he kissed her. Short, nothing fancy, nothing heated or nearly as dirty as he would have wanted it to be if they were alone in his suite. "I can't promise a lot right now, you know, but I want to."
"I could not accept such promises, even if you made them," she reminded him, licking her lip with the faintest hint of uncertainty. "I am sworn to serve my king and my realm, as you are still sworn to protect yours."
"We've got a bridge. And the time now together."
"Then we'd best make it count for something."
Hands still linked, they strode into Avengers Tower together.
***
Loki, if he was going to be honest with himself, preferred to fade into the background at this juncture. He could rant and rave about not being included, but he also didn't want to see Natasha with Yelena and the Winter Soldier. Didn't want to think about Yelena winding her limbs around Natasha's body, didn't want to think about the press of the Winter Soldier into her. She loved them, there was no other explanation why she would insist on staying with them even as she had feared this outcome from the very beginning. It wasn't just friendship, it wasn't obligation, it wasn't a negotiated deal.
He thought he could understand this, as the bite of this emotion was razor sharp and stung horribly. If she felt even a fraction of this pain...
"It's unlike you to hide, Loki," came a familiar voice behind him.
Not even bothering to turn around, Loki shrugged. "Your emotion is in the first bloom of affection, Sif. I'm surprised you even sought me out."
"It hurts you," she commented, booted footsteps coming closer. "Her absence," Sif clarified when Loki remained silent. "You hide from Natasha's friends because they remind you of her, of her absence from your side."
The urge to blast her with magic full force was strong, but he ruthlessly tamped it down. It would likely get him barred from Midgard entirely, and Natasha wouldn't like it. Things like that would matter once she returned. She cared about others, about things like fairness and balance. Striking Sif for her observations certainly wouldn't be balance.
He had to think about Natasha returning. Any other outcome wouldn't be tolerated.
Sif touched his shoulder, infinite patience and kindness. Her touch burned.
It didn't bother her that Loki twitched away and refused to look at her. "Loki," she tried again. "I only wish to help find her. Steven told me of the Winter Soldier and Yelena Belova."
"Did he?" Loki said, almost ashamed that his voice rasped painfully. "Did he say that they are all lovers? That she loves them? That they are all damaged beyond repair?"
"They are not damaged," Sif chided him. "Not beyond repair. Not if we find them."
"That's his idealism talking," Loki scoffed. "That is not truth."
"Frigga comes soon. She will lend her aid. You know of her extensive studies with the spá. I believe she wants to change theirs."
"The consequences of such actions would be dire," Loki said, finally turning to stare at her. "I have looked into such things. Though I would not claim as much study as Frigga has done, I am aware enough of how entangled their spá has become. Little can change it."
"She can."
"For a price," Loki replied, lips curling back in disdain. He was no longer dressed in standard Asgardian wear as would befit a prince. He regularly dressed in Midgardian slacks, button down shirts or pullover shirts in soft, expensive fabrics. Sam had called him a preppy, whatever that was, and the soldiers at the support group had immediately assumed he was wealthy.
He was no such thing, not as he had been on Asgard, but at least he could look the part on Midgard. He had little else going for him at the moment.
Sif was dressed in traveling wear of a high jarl, not in her battle armor. The forest green cloak was heavy in deference to the autumn weather, and its collar was embroidered with the symbols of her House. The traveling dress was a light blue shot with silver, with outer robes of a darker blue that had red embroidered patters along the overskirt and hems of the sleeves. It was a dress befitting her station, but not one she willingly had worn before. It puzzled Loki at first, but he assumed that she was assuming the role of Ambassador herself. If she had come to Midgard with the intent of fighting or rendering military aid, she would be in her armor.
"Do all things carry a price?"
"When do they not?" Loki scoffed, a weariness settling into his bones. Sif wasn't the type to dissemble or obfuscate. That was his specialty. She wasn't here to settle old scores or try to trick him in some way. Frigga might do such a thing in the questionable name of love, but Sif would never do something so underhanded. Even her lies were straightforward and direct.
"Loki. You are in pain, and so you do not see the obvious, just as the others have not. Natasha is an Ambassador to Asgard. She was stolen away by terrorists, assaulted and abused."
He stopped pacing and stared at her incredulously, finally understanding why she had arrived on Midgard. "You're to aid these Avengers in retrieving her."
"In a manner of speaking. Midgard is now the closest military ally that Asgard has in the Nine Realms. Thanos still roams free, and he still searches for the Infinity Gems. He still seeks death and destruction."
"I am banished here," Loki reminded her bitterly.
"Because of your own actions," Sif reminded him in turn. "You sought treason against your father the King, but then fought for Asgard."
Loki pulled his lips back in a snarl, teeth bared to her. "He is not my father."
"Not of blood, perhaps," Sif replied, unperturbed. "But you were raised as a son of Odin, and he still claims you as such. He still claims love for you."
That threw him. "He dares no such thing."
Sif shrugged, unperturbed. "Odin said as much in the days prior to my arrival here. Whether you accept it or not is your choice." Loki couldn't quite breathe; Natasha had said the same thing to him many a time. Sif looked at him with such an earnest expression. "Regardless, our King bid me arrive to help in retrieving Natasha from these foul rogues. Should they kill her or alter her mind, it would not go well for her duties on Asgard. Yet asking her to step down or assigning another in the role of Ambassador would be insulting."
"He cares so much for her wellbeing," Loki sneered. "I wonder how else he could save face."
Sighing, Sif shook her head. "Are your feelings for her without ulterior motive?" There was no pleasure in her expression when he scowled, at least. "She is my friend. I would help her if I could, and I will aid the others how I can."
Whatever Loki wanted to say was cut off by the sound of running feet. He scowled in their direction, not sure what was going on but not wanting to appear stupid to Sif.
Clint burst in and didn't seem surprised by Sif's presence in the slightest. "We got another hit on our private server. Two coordinates. Meet us in the conference room, we're splitting up the team to cover both sites."
No time to ponder anything anymore.
***
Looking over her shoulder, Natasha saw that Yelena was still fast asleep. Her breathing was deep and even, and James was out to look for further munitions and supplies. He planned to hit a Hydra safe house in the area, and it would likely take him about an hour or two. Natasha worked quickly, using her phone to route another signal to the Avengers drop server. Using the Strike Team Delta code had led the Avengers to show up in Fort Worth, and apparently they had enough resources to figure out that Austin had been their next target. There were two separate locations now, and if the Avengers split forces as they had in Japan, they likely would be hurt as badly as Sam had been. Natasha still felt sick over that, especially since she had no way of knowing if he was all right.
Yelena had picked Atlanta to start with. It had a large hub airport, and the city was large enough to hide in prior to attacking the Black Spectre locations. James and the eleven Black Spectre girls would attack the San Francisco site, and she made sure to put that in her message. It would be the less dangerous site for them, if only because James operated on such a straightforward basis. Yelena was so difficult to predict.
It had taken time for Natasha to regain her composure after the attic talk with James, though Yelena had been too occupied with her new charges to notice. That had hurt badly. She had been aware enough of Natasha to realize that, to declare in front of the empty girls that Natasha was the second in command, that her word was law just as Yelena's was. Of course they believed her, looked to Natasha with perfect trust. This was all they knew, all they were trained to believe, all the truth that they had to work with.
The myriad lies weighed heavily on Natasha now, and she was sick of it. She was sick of everything she had to do in this line of work, everyone she had to be. She wanted things to be simpler, to be as straightforward as James or the Avengers were. Instead of living with lies and shadows, she wanted to be out in the open. She ached with that need. It didn't even matter to her that Yelena wouldn't understand it. The blonde had volunteered, after all. She wanted to be an Elite, she wanted to be part of the Red Room.
Natasha had been stolen. She had never been given a choice.
Yelena woke abruptly, eyes wild and confused even if the rest of her was relaxed. Those eyes softened when they took in Natasha sitting there, concern etched into her features. "Natalia, why do you keep worrying about me?"
Because I love you was on the tip of her tongue, but admitting it would be weakness. "The triggers," she said instead, which Yelena saw as a lame excuse.
"You don't understand. I'm fine," Yelena insisted, leaning forward and catching her hand tightly. She even brought Natasha's knuckles up to her lips to kiss them.
"Those girls are broken," Natasha said, staring at her intently. "They broke those girls apart and all we have are shards inside empty shells. It's going to get us killed."
Staring at her intently, Yelena's eyes seemed to shift. "You love Winter," she said finally, her voice cold and distant. Her demeanor was slightly different, though Natasha couldn't put her finger on how, exactly.
"If those girls don't survive San Francisco, what's the point in saving them? In keeping them? In rebuilding the Red Room?"
Yanking hard on Natasha's hand, Yelena's expression shifted into one of frightening and startling rage. Natasha sprawled face first on the bed in front of Yelena, and didn't fight back when the blonde started to rip at her clothes, nails digging gouges into her skin. She let out a soft grunt and shut her eyes when the scratches turned to punches, but didn't say a word. There had been plenty of this as children, the supervisors pitting the girls against each other. Even Yelena, as much as she had always loved Natasha, had to hit her for Starkovsky's benefit. A delicate dance between him and Ivan had to be played out between the girls.
The violence stopped as suddenly as it started. Yelena looked down at Natasha, at the torn clothes, welts and red marks that might turn into bruises. "I'm sorry," she whispered, starting to sob. "I promised you I'd never hurt you, and look at me. Look at me!"
"I hit a trigger, didn't I?" Natasha asked in a resigned tone.
"No. I'm fine. I'm in control," Yelena insisted. Was that a waver in her voice? "I know what you're going to say, and I can't do it. I can't. No one is going to root around in my head anymore. Don't make me, Natasha. You won't like the things I had to do to survive. You won't like me."
"I love you," Natasha murmured into the blanket, the words muffled. But it didn't matter, Yelena wasn't listening anymore. She was sure that SHIELD would hurt her worse than the Red Room had, that Natasha wouldn't care for her anymore. That even the Winter Soldier wouldn't respect her if they got their hands on her.
Yelena stroked Natasha on the back of her head, soothing her. "Look. The marks are already going away, Natalia. It's going to be all right."
Natasha kept her eyes shut and her body very still. Just like the Red Room. Just like when they were children, struggling to survive.
She wasn't enough, she had to admit that to herself now. Natasha wasn't enough to save Yelena from herself, wasn't enough to bring her back from whatever fractured edge she teetered on. And she wasn't enough to keep James safe, was she? Not when he valued himself so little thanks to the Department X programming. Everything she wanted was slipping through her fingers faster than she could hold onto it.
Whatever was left of her heart was breaking.
***
***
To Chapter Four - Ready To Let You Go
Series: #16 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires, #4 - Broken Underneath, #5 - Change Is Coming Soon, #6 - Lick Your Wounds, #7 - Bitter Sparks, #8 - Father's Will, #9 - To Feel Safe Again, #10 - Hit Your Prime, #11 - Open Your Eyes, #12 - Can't Be Ignored, #13 - Make You Ill, #14 - Aim Straight, #15 - Not The First Time)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: R
Pairing: Loki/Natasha, Natasha/Yelena, Natasha/Winter Soldier
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-Avengers, AU to the rest of MCU. Read the other stories before this one, because it does refer back to events in them. Additional warning for mindfuckery of various flavors (hello, Red Room!) and detailed descriptions of violence.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups
Special thanks to phoenixrising06/
romanovasledger for plotting and characterization discussion. :)
Summary: The Red Room has returned.
Prior chapter:
One - Set Up
Two - Freedom of Choice
Three - Road to Ruin
The Black Spectre lab was located almost an hour outside of Austin, in a mostly underground bunker that appeared to be an ordinary office building. Black Spectre was very good at hiding in plain sight, and this location seemed no different. "If we destabilize their center, we can take on a number of their girls for ourselves," Yelena insisted.
Natasha felt a wariness creep into her spine, that sense of impending doom. She pushed it down and out of her immediate consciousness; that dread would only slow her down and compromise the mission. She had to be the best, especially if she had to cover for an unstable Yelena.
Going into the office building meant they needed clothing that appeared appropriate, yet could hide a number of weapons. James refused to even consider that ruse, choosing instead to be their distraction. He planned to shoot or firebomb the upper levels of the office building, triggering the alarms and deflecting attention from the lower levels, where the two women would be. "Yours is a priority mission, mine is the distraction from the actual work," he said, voice even. He knew very well what the chances were that he would be injured. "If they're truly civilians, they will duck down out of the way when I open cover fire."
"And if they're not?" Natasha asked, touching his arm in concern.
"Your life has always been more important than mine," he answered gently. "Yours is the life that must go on. I am a soldier, a weapon to be used when subtlety is not the tool needed." He covered her hand with his. "I have always understood this. I have always done the things that needed to be done, even if they are not savory."
Yelena merely rolled her eyes at the byplay. "We've covered this repeatedly," she complained.
"It's only the three of us right now, Yelena!" Natasha snapped. "You can't be so cavalier about losing one third of our people. You can't seriously want to throw away an asset."
She pouted and turned away. "He's an asset. But other assets can be made or repurposed."
"From what?"
There was no good answer for that. It was largely the reason why they were trying to pilfer agents from Black Spectre as they destroyed it.
Arriving at the office building, Yelena and Natasha breezed in easily. Security was light, as if this was an ordinary office park. No one questioned their appearance; apparently temps and assorted assistance staff rotated frequently in some of the office suites. They went straight to the back of the building, where the service entrances and elevators were. Security was tighter there at the loading dock, and their surveillance from earlier that morning had even caught sight of matte black weaponry. They were definitely in the right place.
Tactical gear had been tightly folded into their shoulder bags, and Yelena and Natasha changed quickly in one of the bathrooms. The shoes couldn't be helped, but the heels at least were chunky and not spiked. Natasha and Yelena had both been trained to run in dress shoes as well as boots, so this wasn't as grave a concern as the lack of tactical suits would have been. They weren't made of Kevlar, but the weave was tight and could prevent knife wounds from landing against skin directly the way the dress clothes would have.
As James walked into the front of the building with machine guns, the two women entered the service elevators and climbed up onto the top of each elevator car. The plan was to descend the shaft, bypassing any potential security codes that using the elevators would have required. It would make their arrival within Black Spectre barracks unannounced and more likely to succeed with fewer of the women attacking them.
That part went exactly to plan. The elevator shaft connected to various vents, and a fair number of them easily fit Yelena and Natasha. That allowed them to peer into the complex and get their bearings. "This part would have been easier if we had a trainee that was converted to our cause," Natasha grumbled in Yelena's direction. The blonde ignored it and pressed forward.
There were few women in the barracks, and it was pathetically easy to subdue them. Natasha had the sneaking suspicion that they had been wiped clean, blank slates not imprinted yet. Yelena had no compunctions about knocking them out and tying them up, intending to come back for them later. She even laughed at Natasha's concern for their state of mind. "It'll be that much easier for us to win them to our cause," she said, sounding far too much like Starkovsky for Natasha's liking.
Explosions above the complex rocked the building. That drove a number of men out of offices, some women out of labs. Natasha didn't like the implications of this, but Yelena dove right in and started literally cutting a swath through the offices. "We need intel!" Natasha tried to remind her, but Yelena ignored her. Natasha tried to grab whatever she could find on desks, even securing a laptop and attache case full of printed files. There was no time to stop and peruse its worth, or search for more. She hated not knowing if she was saving something valuable, or guarding the dross of their organization. Still, it couldn't be helped. Yelena was heading further into the lab areas. The expression on her face was almost frightening to behold.
This place reminded Natasha of the Red Room. That sent a crawling sensation down her spine, a shiver she refused to acknowledge as fear. She was in control of her mind, at least. What would these memories do to Yelena or James?
Natasha could hear the distant sound of screaming down the hall. Yelena had already messily killed every scientist she saw, heedless of the data loss and thick sprays of blood that she left behind. She was on a mission, she didn't have time to think of such things. Natasha remembered that Yelena had such issues on her Red Room missions. It was part of the reason why her scores could never surpass Natasha's. Someone always had to go behind her to clean up the mess. It hadn't been James - she never warranted attention from the Asset in that manner and had been deemed not worth the time to train with him - but someone else from Department X. It had possibly been done on purpose once they realized what Yelna would do on missions. So Yelena would paint the walls red with blood, and the Department X agent would root through the disarray to get the valuable data.
Natasha didn't like playing Department X at all. She never had.
There was screaming up ahead, not in Yelena's voice. A girl getting processed, perhaps. This was bad news, and exactly the thing they were trying to stop. Leaving the next set of labs alone, Natasha took off in a run to get to Yelena. A handler continuing with his dread work despite a breach in progress likely meant that one of the Black Spectre ladies was in the process of being programmed to defend them.
Yelena went in ahead and the door slammed shut behind her. The sound of the lock slamming into place was ominous.
By the time Natasha hacked the door open, Yelena was standing in the center of the room, electrodes at her temples, eyes glazed and gun pointed at the floor. A dusky-skinned brunette lay on the floor, her body riddled with bullets. She was lying between Yelena and a middle aged man in a white lab coat and thick glasses. The black hair was graying, and he had his hands at controls in front of him. Natasha shot the grinning scientist in the center of his forehead and pulled Yelena out of the room.
"We need SHIELD now," she hissed to James, who had reached her not too long after. "Their therapists can undo this. I can't even begin to try to figure it out."
SHIELD must have been a trigger word, though there was no way of telling which organization put it there. Her hand snaked out to grasp Natasha by the throat. "No. No one goes into my mind. I won't have strangers in there!"
Natasha didn't fight her. "I don't know what they've done, Lena. That's not my field of expertise."
"No one goes into my mind! Promise me!"
"Never without your consent, Lena," Natasha promised. "But if this gets worse, we'll need help to fix it. Can you promise me that?"
Yelena finally realized her hand was around Natasha's throat, and yanked it back, horrified. She saw James with his gun out of its holster, no doubt ready to put a bullet in her temple. Stepping back abruptly, she nodded. "All right. God, Natalia, I would never hurt you, never." She looked from Natasha to James. "You believe me, don't you? Don't you?" Her voice took on a high, panicked tone. "I love you, I'd never hurt you. If I do-"
"Then you get help. You stop resisting me, and let me get you the help to get the triggers out of your head. They're ruining our plans." Natasha pressed her lips together. "I'd rather if we did this now, before we find out the hard way what those bastards were putting in your head."
She shook her head, eyes wide and desperate. "We used them, Natalia. We played them for fools, we ran them on a chase around the globe, we stole you. They won't want to help us, they won't want to fix me. They'll lock me away, throw away the key. They would never help the likes of me, not with what I've done."
"They took me in," Natasha pointed out.
Yelena shook her head and looked over at James. "They won't take us. Our crimes are worse than yours. The death toll... No, they won't fix me, you can't be that naïve to think that they will." Her laughter was high pitched and shrill. "They'll kill me if they don't lock me up. I can't live that way again, Natalia, I can't, I can't."
Natasha pulled her into a tight embrace and then pulled in James as well. The three huddled together, and she pressed a kiss to Yelena's temple. "I'll protect you, Lena. You know I will. It's what we do for each other. You have to trust me that I can fix this. I can't lose you."
"But what if you have to?"
Thinking of Hel's words, Natasha nearly shook. "I will fix this," she promised. She held onto Yelena tight enough to bruise, her eyes shut tight. James' hand fell onto her shoulder in silent support.
She would be asked to choose, and either choice would kill her.
***
Sam looked over at Steve's clenched jaw and shut off the news. Deadly gunfire at an office building outside Austin was bad enough, but the appearance of the Winter Soldier stalking through the smoke-filled halls, automatic weapons in hand and poised to shoot, made it even worse. "Man, I'm fine. You don't need to be babysitting me in the hospital when they clearly need you there."
"If I hadn't brought you in on it..."
"Do not blame yourself for this," Sam snapped, finally getting angry. "Steve, I asked to go to Austria. I asked to help out in Japan. Natasha is my friend, too, and I have every right to be there, helping out however I can. You know she's in trouble. She's in over her head with that one, and the blonde is fucking crazy. Not pretty, but it's true. I saw it myself, the woman looked like nobody was even home."
"All the more reason to protect you-"
"Listen to yourself, Steve! I'm a grown adult and can make my own stupid ass decisions. If he wanted me dead, we wouldn't be arguing over this. The Winter Soldier wanted me out of the way, not dead. So instead of beating yourself up for something you didn't even do, think about why that might be. You know our girl must have told him not to kill us."
"You're the one that said he might not be the kind we save."
"Yeah. And I'm qualifying that right now. We didn't know it before, but I got a chance to see him up close and personal. The man moves like a machine, not a man. Not like Yelena, not like nobody's home. But it's blank, following orders and that's it. No personality, no malice. So we find out his orders, we can get around them. You might be able to dig deep and get your friend out of the mess in his head. I'm not so sure about Yelena anymore."
Steve sighed and covered his face with his hands. "Don't say we can get Bucky back just because it's what I want to hear, Sam. I know this is stupid, Hydra wiped out all traces of Bucky, but I can't help but think that this is my fault. If I caught him on the train. Or if I trusted my instincts and looked for him so that Hydra didn't get him..."
"You know why they say hindsight is twenty-twenty?" Sam asked, cutting him off. "It's because you know how it ends. You know what needs to be done. But when you're trudging forward, living the life in the real world... You're not going to know what comes next. You don't know what else is going on. It makes no goddamn sense in the world that he should've survived a fall like that. Like ordinary folk wouldn't survive going down into the ice the way you did. Steve, you can't blame yourself for what happened. You've been to my group sessions often enough to know that," he chided gently.
Steve sighed, nodding. "Yeah. But it's Bucky. He stuck with me when I was a little guy, and when I lost all my family, he was my family. I can't give up on him, can't just let him go and say he's lost now."
"Nobody said you had to," Sam pointed out. "They're just saying don't get your hopes up, in case they really did erase everything. But no matter what Hydra did to him, he isn't evil now. Keep that in mind, if no one else will. I mean, yeah, I'm not too happy he kicked my ass and shot me in Japan. But he didn't kill me when he could've. Even if Natasha told him not to, if he was really evil, he would've done it anyway and lied to her. But he didn't. He knocked me down, he knocked me out, he shot me in a place that wasn't fatal but still put me out." He pointed at his casted leg with his arm that was in a sling. Shooting Steve a pointed look, he waited until the super soldier sighed.
"Sitting here and beating yourself up isn't going to make me heal faster."
"If only we still had the super soldier serum..."
"Dude, the serum isn't what makes you special. You told me that yourself."
"But it would let you heal."
"Yeah, and so would asking Loki," Sam pointed out sharply. "But nobody thought to do that, did they? Well, other than me, and he looked downright sick at the thought. Said something about a spa or whatnot. I think after what happened in Japan, he's afraid his magic's going to fuck everything up. Which, given how into Natasha he is, I can see why he'd feel that way. Her head's probably been messed with, and the last thing he'd want to do is add to that."
Steve waited until Sam wound down. "So... How long have you been rehearsing all that in your head?" he asked with a wry smile.
"Hours. Days." Sam grinned at him. "You are miserably predictable, Steve. You're a good guy. In this situation, it's probably not going to be enough, is it? You're going to want to have some serious firepower on your side. That might be the only thing giving a soldier pause."
Drumming his fingers on Sam's bedside table, Steve looked at Sam thoughtfully. "Thor was in Fort Worth and knows about Austin. Think he'd help?"
"You know he would."
Now Steve's cheeks pinked slightly. "And there's his friend Sif in Asgard. She's a swell fighter, good with tactics."
"Swell, huh?" Sam asked in a sly tone. He laughed at Steve's sideways glance, finding it hilarious that he wasn't sure what he should or shouldn't say.
"We just flirted," Steve said with a sigh. "Never got a chance to be more than that on Asgard."
"So? Invite the girl over, talk tactics and how to take down a man with a metal arm that technically doesn't even exist. Sounds romantic to me," he added in a teasing note.
Steve shot Sam a bemused glance and shook his head. "That's not romantic."
"Take her someplace fancy afterward. That'll clinch it as a date."
"That's a pretty shitty date, I think," Steve sighed.
"If she's interested, you can do the classic stuff. If she's not interested, at least you know."
"It's embarrassing," Steve sighed. "You know how Tony gets."
"Man, forget that guy. Don't worry about what he says or does. Worry about what makes you happy. You of all people deserve it."
Smiling a little wider at him, Steve nodded. "Okay."
"All right, then. Get outta here and gimme details later."
They grinned at each other, and then Steve headed out of the door to find Thor.
***
An abandoned house in east Texas wound up being the place where Natasha, Yelena and James took the dazed women they had rescued from Austin. They had indeed been scrubbed clean prior to being placed in their barracks, and it was a blessing in disguise that they only name they knew of was "the Agency." It was easy to tell them that the Agency had been compromised, and they had to prioritize the removal of agents in order to keep them safe. "The other Agency locations will have been compromised as well, and we'll need to shut them down," Yelena declared. Her eyes lingered over the blank and trusting faces of the women, and her gaze hardened. "Your fellow agents are now compromised. It is our duty to put a stop to them and to their practices out in the field. They're killing innocents, and that's not what we're about."
Natasha managed not to snort, but only just. The helpless had simply been easier to kill.
But the women had no reason not to trust Yelena. Their minds were blank, and all they knew was that the Agency ran missions, and they were only told as much as they needed to know to run the mission. They trusted in that, and Yelena was setting herself up as their department head. She looked as though she was soaking up all of the undivided, devoted attention. At this rate, she would command them in her sleep.
Natasha looked out of the attic window, not seeing the broken frame or shards of glass jutting from it. This was the highest vantage point in the house, would allow her to see as far from it as she could. A chill ran down her spine, and she knew bad things were coming.
She couldn't save them both. If she was totally honest, she could probably barely even save herself. Everything had spun so far out of control long before she even tried to exert her will in this situation. She wasn't as good as she thought she was, wasn't as skilled. She had limits, she couldn't do it all.
But dammit, she was still going to try.
"They're asleep," James announced as he headed up into the attic. She had scared badly when he had snuck up on her earlier, and she had flushed with shame.
Starkovsky in the doorway, eyes on her as she trained, as she and other Elites were en pointe, beginning to go again through the Madame's lessons. Yelena hadn't been there that day, too many bruises and sprains. Whispers in the halls, discipline handed down without an audience, without a purpose. But there could be no discipline without purpose, not if it was based on a mission. And Starkovsky wouldn't want to break one of his dolls, especially not one of his favorite ones.
But Natasha knew the truth. He would break a doll for the fun of it, and it wouldn't bother him at all. He had plenty of others lined up once his current doll was too broken to use.
"Eleven girls," she murmured, not taking her eyes off of the insipid view outside the broken window. She should have called them women, should have given them some kind of semblance of agency. But they were erased, just shy of broken themselves, and that left them little more than girls waiting for parents to tell them what to do.
Dear God, Yelena as a parent? Or worse yet, Natasha? She couldn't do this, couldn't be a role model, couldn't show others the way. Her inability to curb Loki's temper or nature had to be proof of that.
But he tried, just as she did. He was different now, and that had to count for something, right? He could love, he could change.
And if he could, why couldn't she? Why couldn't Yelena?
James crossed the attic floor, stride heavy and full of purpose where her own had been nimble and light, more like a ghost. His metal hand fell heavy on her shoulder, his flesh and bone hand combing through the tangles in her hair. It was bright red, like freshly spilled blood, and his touch sent shivers down her spine. "We grow and change, Natalia."
Her eyes slid shut and she tried not to let her breathing change in tenor. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. It shouldn't have been this way, she could see that now.
He bent down to whisper near her ear. "We'll contain the damage. We'll keep them all safe. They won't suffer like we did. Like she did, especially."
"What do you know?" she rasped.
"What they told me. What I can guess. What I've seen done to others."
Others. Of course Yelena wasn't the only one that Starkovsky targeted; Natasha was surprised yet not at the same time. Twenty-eight girls in the Elites at a time, and Starkovsky had been present for years before they both had graduated into the Elites. The only reason why she had gotten away with as little sexual abuse as she had was that he didn't like redheads, didn't like how cold and aloof she had held herself. If he had known her heart, if he had been able to guess...
James slid his flesh hand down the curve of her jaw, then cupped her throat loosely as he stood behind her. "I can go with you. With Yelena. We can contain her, let the other girls loose on the second site we don't go to."
Natasha let loose a choked sob. "Something will go wrong with them. The other labs won't be like Austin. They'll be full force, full complement of agents and scientists and handlers, whoever is normally there. It won't be easy."
He sighed and let his hand slide down to rest over her chest, above the rise of her breaths. It was a steadying, intimate move. "Unless we decide the other agents aren't worth saving." He halted her when her mouth opened to protest. "I know they are, Natashenko," he crooned softly, lips against the shell of her ear. "I know it as well as you do. But they are the ones making this more complicated than it has to be. It could be like how we decimated the Hand if we were willing to allow that kind of collateral damage."
If he had simply been the Winter Soldier, only the asset that Department X had wanted him to be, then those women would be dead without a second thought, the other two Black Spectre sites nothing more than smoking craters. But he was no longer their puppet, and he had a mind of his own, as blank as it was in spots.
Natasha put her hands over his flesh one at her chest. "If we did that, it would be easy, but it would make us no different from Department X. We would be the same Red Room. Or AIM. Or Hydra. Or anyone else we're trying to destroy. We have to be different. We have to be better than that, we have to be."
"I know," he murmured softly, fingers twitching restlessly against her skin.
"Yelena would kill them."
"I'm not coming to Yelena."
Now she turned to look at him, wonder and pain and hope in her eyes. "We should get her checked by SHIELD. They'll take the triggers out of her mind, they'll keep it safe for us."
"They won't let her go, Natalia. They would put her on trial. If not official, then unofficially put her on some kind of probationary period. Even if they seek to convert her to their cause, they would not trust her."
"Not right away, maybe," Natasha began. "They trust me."
"Do they really?"
"A number of them have become my family, James," she reminded him gently.
"But even family can hurt. Even family could change." He lifted her so that their faces were at the same level. He kissed her softly, gently. "She changes. Deteriorates. I don't know if you can save her, Natashenko."
The cutesy nickname was likely meant to be comforting, but it chilled Natasha to the bone. It was the name of a small child, an innocent. It wasn't the name of a capable agent, of an assassin that had brought the mercenary world to its knees. She was now a child, someone small and silly and not able to take in the reality of the world. She lived on dreams and hopes and idle whims, she didn't understand how everything truly worked.
James held her as she cried, sobbing with all the disappointment and pain her heart hid away. He stroked her back, rocking her gently. "I'll watch the girls in San Francisco. I'll keep them safe and save whoever I can."
"You're going to leave Yelena and I in Atlanta, then?" Natasha asked, looking up at him with vulnerable, wet eyes.
"You need time to say goodbye," he said softly. "When you come back from Atlanta, she'll be the new Starkovsky, and I can't see you staying, no matter what you feel."
Natasha wanted to deny it, but the words stuck in her throat. There wasn't any hope of bringing in Yelena if she acted this way. "And you?"
"Your friend might want SHIELD to take me in, thinking I'm who he remembers," James started to say slowly. "But I don't think they would want to. I'm too much of a risk, too much of an unknown quantity. Any organization like them would rather put me down."
She grasped his shirt tightly in her hands. "No. I'll convince them. Director Fury would listen to me. He trusts me."
"Would he still, after what we've done? Yelena wasn't the only one that killed, Natasha. You took initiative, you did enough to aid us. They won't be able to paint you a victim of our villainy and greed. They can't explain away our deeds. We're coated in blood, Natasha. The world doesn't want to see that. They can't tolerate it."
"I won't leave you. I won't leave her."
"You could. You could walk away in Atlanta. Leave us behind."
She shook her head and bit her lip, tears shimmering in her eyes. "It killed me once to walk away, I don't think I could do it again."
Something like pity lurked in his gaze. "Oh, Natasha. You really should know better than to love us, to truly love us. We never should have let it go this far."
"But we did. Time and again, we did. That's why they punished us in different ways."
"And now we punish each other, even when we try not to."
James sighed and kissed her tenderly before drawing her close. "I can only hope the blade's bite won't sting when we become each others' ruins."
***
Sif greeted Steve warmly in the Avengers tower penthouse. "Steven!" she said with a grin, grasping his hand tightly. "It is an honor and a privilege to meet with you again!"
That was heartening, and Steve ginned at her widely. He sobered after a moment. "I wish our visit was under better circumstances, I really do," he said regretfully.
Sif's playful grin dialed back a notch. "Thor explained some of the troubles you have been going through." Her lips clamped shut when she caught sight of Loki skulking about in the back of the room. "Has there been trouble from that quarter?"
Steve followed her line of sight, and shook his head. "No, actually. He's been pretty devastated lately. Natasha's caught up in serious trouble, and he can't help get her out of it." Turning back toward Sif, Steve frowned. "He's refused to do magic in a while, actually. The last thing he did was a crying spell of some kind. I think it shook him up."
Frowning deeply, Sif tore her eyes away from Loki. "He does seem unhappy. It is good that Queen Frigga plans to visit as well."
Blinking in surprise, Steve led her into Avengers Tower, into the common area near the arrival deck. "We didn't ask her to help, though."
"But she gives aid. Natasha is recognized as a high jarl, a kin to royalty. Heimdall warned us of trickery and pain, but it was believed to be merely a human matter."
"Isn't it?"
"They are known as terrorists on your world. They have kidnapped, assaulted, and coerced an Ambassador that is deemed kin to Asgard."
The color drained from Steve's face at the stark words. "They see it as a move against Asgard."
"Likely it is not so; Thor did relay the fact that these were former comrades in arms, befouled with trickery and tonics of some kind." Sif frowned deeply and grasped Steve's arm tightly. "The honor guard had to be convinced to stay at the palace, Steven. A number may not have liked her personally, but Natasha trained with them, taught them sparring skills and opened their eyes to their true duty. Taking her also insulted their honor."
"Shit," Steve breathed.
"I have explained that time works differently between our realms to explain why you have not sought our aid sooner."
"That's part of it," Steve began.
"But I also explained the sensitive nature of the deed. That Natasha has many roles here as well as that of Ambassador, and it was not clear which role led to her capture."
"Our theory is that the publicity of being Ambassador is what tipped them off about where she was and what she was doing. Before that, she was all spy."
"And in honor of that, I have not brought the entirety of the guards with me." She paused, eyes searching his face carefully. "I hope my presence does not displease you."
The flush spread across his cheeks. "No! No, don't think that, Sif. We're just worried about Tash, and I never thought it was an interdimensional incident." He grasped her hand tightly, linking his fingers through hers before he could stop and doubt himself. "I-I, uh, missed you. Couldn't come up with a plausible reason for you to visit before."
"Could I not visit of my own accord?" she asked gently.
"You'd want to?"
Her lips curled slightly, and she leaned in close, touching her forehead to his. "Perhaps neither of us are used to speaking plainly of such things."
"I've never been good at talking to ladies I really cared about. Or wanted to care about."
"And talk of such things outside of battle has not been my strong suit as a girl."
Steve gave her a dopey grin. "So we're kinda dancing around an issue that doesn't have to be an issue, aren't we?"
"It appears so."
"I never was that good a dancer."
"I can observe social niceties, but often I find them distasteful."
"Meaning what?" Steve asked.
"Meaning we should speak plainly." Keeping their hands linked, Sif brought her other hand to his shoulder. "Thor has told me of the tradition for ladies going first."
"If a fella's going to be chivalrous and respectful," Steve agreed.
"I desire to know your thoughts," Sif told him boldly. "I desire to sup with you, to see if sharing a hearth and bed would be enjoyable."
Steve's dopey grin widened further. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that. That's what I want, too. I'm just not good at saying the words."
"Then say the ones you know," Sif urged, answering his grin with one of her own.
"I like how you fight, Sif. But it's more than that. You're smart and funny, and I like how you won't take any shit."
"I think I understand the phrasing," Sif replied, eyes lighting up.
Steve laughed. "Friends say I've got a type. Strong dames that know their own mind, can knock me down and help me back up." On impulse, he leaned in close and pulled their linked hands toward him. That pulled Sif into his chest, and he kissed her. Short, nothing fancy, nothing heated or nearly as dirty as he would have wanted it to be if they were alone in his suite. "I can't promise a lot right now, you know, but I want to."
"I could not accept such promises, even if you made them," she reminded him, licking her lip with the faintest hint of uncertainty. "I am sworn to serve my king and my realm, as you are still sworn to protect yours."
"We've got a bridge. And the time now together."
"Then we'd best make it count for something."
Hands still linked, they strode into Avengers Tower together.
***
Loki, if he was going to be honest with himself, preferred to fade into the background at this juncture. He could rant and rave about not being included, but he also didn't want to see Natasha with Yelena and the Winter Soldier. Didn't want to think about Yelena winding her limbs around Natasha's body, didn't want to think about the press of the Winter Soldier into her. She loved them, there was no other explanation why she would insist on staying with them even as she had feared this outcome from the very beginning. It wasn't just friendship, it wasn't obligation, it wasn't a negotiated deal.
He thought he could understand this, as the bite of this emotion was razor sharp and stung horribly. If she felt even a fraction of this pain...
"It's unlike you to hide, Loki," came a familiar voice behind him.
Not even bothering to turn around, Loki shrugged. "Your emotion is in the first bloom of affection, Sif. I'm surprised you even sought me out."
"It hurts you," she commented, booted footsteps coming closer. "Her absence," Sif clarified when Loki remained silent. "You hide from Natasha's friends because they remind you of her, of her absence from your side."
The urge to blast her with magic full force was strong, but he ruthlessly tamped it down. It would likely get him barred from Midgard entirely, and Natasha wouldn't like it. Things like that would matter once she returned. She cared about others, about things like fairness and balance. Striking Sif for her observations certainly wouldn't be balance.
He had to think about Natasha returning. Any other outcome wouldn't be tolerated.
Sif touched his shoulder, infinite patience and kindness. Her touch burned.
It didn't bother her that Loki twitched away and refused to look at her. "Loki," she tried again. "I only wish to help find her. Steven told me of the Winter Soldier and Yelena Belova."
"Did he?" Loki said, almost ashamed that his voice rasped painfully. "Did he say that they are all lovers? That she loves them? That they are all damaged beyond repair?"
"They are not damaged," Sif chided him. "Not beyond repair. Not if we find them."
"That's his idealism talking," Loki scoffed. "That is not truth."
"Frigga comes soon. She will lend her aid. You know of her extensive studies with the spá. I believe she wants to change theirs."
"The consequences of such actions would be dire," Loki said, finally turning to stare at her. "I have looked into such things. Though I would not claim as much study as Frigga has done, I am aware enough of how entangled their spá has become. Little can change it."
"She can."
"For a price," Loki replied, lips curling back in disdain. He was no longer dressed in standard Asgardian wear as would befit a prince. He regularly dressed in Midgardian slacks, button down shirts or pullover shirts in soft, expensive fabrics. Sam had called him a preppy, whatever that was, and the soldiers at the support group had immediately assumed he was wealthy.
He was no such thing, not as he had been on Asgard, but at least he could look the part on Midgard. He had little else going for him at the moment.
Sif was dressed in traveling wear of a high jarl, not in her battle armor. The forest green cloak was heavy in deference to the autumn weather, and its collar was embroidered with the symbols of her House. The traveling dress was a light blue shot with silver, with outer robes of a darker blue that had red embroidered patters along the overskirt and hems of the sleeves. It was a dress befitting her station, but not one she willingly had worn before. It puzzled Loki at first, but he assumed that she was assuming the role of Ambassador herself. If she had come to Midgard with the intent of fighting or rendering military aid, she would be in her armor.
"Do all things carry a price?"
"When do they not?" Loki scoffed, a weariness settling into his bones. Sif wasn't the type to dissemble or obfuscate. That was his specialty. She wasn't here to settle old scores or try to trick him in some way. Frigga might do such a thing in the questionable name of love, but Sif would never do something so underhanded. Even her lies were straightforward and direct.
"Loki. You are in pain, and so you do not see the obvious, just as the others have not. Natasha is an Ambassador to Asgard. She was stolen away by terrorists, assaulted and abused."
He stopped pacing and stared at her incredulously, finally understanding why she had arrived on Midgard. "You're to aid these Avengers in retrieving her."
"In a manner of speaking. Midgard is now the closest military ally that Asgard has in the Nine Realms. Thanos still roams free, and he still searches for the Infinity Gems. He still seeks death and destruction."
"I am banished here," Loki reminded her bitterly.
"Because of your own actions," Sif reminded him in turn. "You sought treason against your father the King, but then fought for Asgard."
Loki pulled his lips back in a snarl, teeth bared to her. "He is not my father."
"Not of blood, perhaps," Sif replied, unperturbed. "But you were raised as a son of Odin, and he still claims you as such. He still claims love for you."
That threw him. "He dares no such thing."
Sif shrugged, unperturbed. "Odin said as much in the days prior to my arrival here. Whether you accept it or not is your choice." Loki couldn't quite breathe; Natasha had said the same thing to him many a time. Sif looked at him with such an earnest expression. "Regardless, our King bid me arrive to help in retrieving Natasha from these foul rogues. Should they kill her or alter her mind, it would not go well for her duties on Asgard. Yet asking her to step down or assigning another in the role of Ambassador would be insulting."
"He cares so much for her wellbeing," Loki sneered. "I wonder how else he could save face."
Sighing, Sif shook her head. "Are your feelings for her without ulterior motive?" There was no pleasure in her expression when he scowled, at least. "She is my friend. I would help her if I could, and I will aid the others how I can."
Whatever Loki wanted to say was cut off by the sound of running feet. He scowled in their direction, not sure what was going on but not wanting to appear stupid to Sif.
Clint burst in and didn't seem surprised by Sif's presence in the slightest. "We got another hit on our private server. Two coordinates. Meet us in the conference room, we're splitting up the team to cover both sites."
No time to ponder anything anymore.
***
Looking over her shoulder, Natasha saw that Yelena was still fast asleep. Her breathing was deep and even, and James was out to look for further munitions and supplies. He planned to hit a Hydra safe house in the area, and it would likely take him about an hour or two. Natasha worked quickly, using her phone to route another signal to the Avengers drop server. Using the Strike Team Delta code had led the Avengers to show up in Fort Worth, and apparently they had enough resources to figure out that Austin had been their next target. There were two separate locations now, and if the Avengers split forces as they had in Japan, they likely would be hurt as badly as Sam had been. Natasha still felt sick over that, especially since she had no way of knowing if he was all right.
Yelena had picked Atlanta to start with. It had a large hub airport, and the city was large enough to hide in prior to attacking the Black Spectre locations. James and the eleven Black Spectre girls would attack the San Francisco site, and she made sure to put that in her message. It would be the less dangerous site for them, if only because James operated on such a straightforward basis. Yelena was so difficult to predict.
It had taken time for Natasha to regain her composure after the attic talk with James, though Yelena had been too occupied with her new charges to notice. That had hurt badly. She had been aware enough of Natasha to realize that, to declare in front of the empty girls that Natasha was the second in command, that her word was law just as Yelena's was. Of course they believed her, looked to Natasha with perfect trust. This was all they knew, all they were trained to believe, all the truth that they had to work with.
The myriad lies weighed heavily on Natasha now, and she was sick of it. She was sick of everything she had to do in this line of work, everyone she had to be. She wanted things to be simpler, to be as straightforward as James or the Avengers were. Instead of living with lies and shadows, she wanted to be out in the open. She ached with that need. It didn't even matter to her that Yelena wouldn't understand it. The blonde had volunteered, after all. She wanted to be an Elite, she wanted to be part of the Red Room.
Natasha had been stolen. She had never been given a choice.
Yelena woke abruptly, eyes wild and confused even if the rest of her was relaxed. Those eyes softened when they took in Natasha sitting there, concern etched into her features. "Natalia, why do you keep worrying about me?"
Because I love you was on the tip of her tongue, but admitting it would be weakness. "The triggers," she said instead, which Yelena saw as a lame excuse.
"You don't understand. I'm fine," Yelena insisted, leaning forward and catching her hand tightly. She even brought Natasha's knuckles up to her lips to kiss them.
"Those girls are broken," Natasha said, staring at her intently. "They broke those girls apart and all we have are shards inside empty shells. It's going to get us killed."
Staring at her intently, Yelena's eyes seemed to shift. "You love Winter," she said finally, her voice cold and distant. Her demeanor was slightly different, though Natasha couldn't put her finger on how, exactly.
"If those girls don't survive San Francisco, what's the point in saving them? In keeping them? In rebuilding the Red Room?"
Yanking hard on Natasha's hand, Yelena's expression shifted into one of frightening and startling rage. Natasha sprawled face first on the bed in front of Yelena, and didn't fight back when the blonde started to rip at her clothes, nails digging gouges into her skin. She let out a soft grunt and shut her eyes when the scratches turned to punches, but didn't say a word. There had been plenty of this as children, the supervisors pitting the girls against each other. Even Yelena, as much as she had always loved Natasha, had to hit her for Starkovsky's benefit. A delicate dance between him and Ivan had to be played out between the girls.
The violence stopped as suddenly as it started. Yelena looked down at Natasha, at the torn clothes, welts and red marks that might turn into bruises. "I'm sorry," she whispered, starting to sob. "I promised you I'd never hurt you, and look at me. Look at me!"
"I hit a trigger, didn't I?" Natasha asked in a resigned tone.
"No. I'm fine. I'm in control," Yelena insisted. Was that a waver in her voice? "I know what you're going to say, and I can't do it. I can't. No one is going to root around in my head anymore. Don't make me, Natasha. You won't like the things I had to do to survive. You won't like me."
"I love you," Natasha murmured into the blanket, the words muffled. But it didn't matter, Yelena wasn't listening anymore. She was sure that SHIELD would hurt her worse than the Red Room had, that Natasha wouldn't care for her anymore. That even the Winter Soldier wouldn't respect her if they got their hands on her.
Yelena stroked Natasha on the back of her head, soothing her. "Look. The marks are already going away, Natalia. It's going to be all right."
Natasha kept her eyes shut and her body very still. Just like the Red Room. Just like when they were children, struggling to survive.
She wasn't enough, she had to admit that to herself now. Natasha wasn't enough to save Yelena from herself, wasn't enough to bring her back from whatever fractured edge she teetered on. And she wasn't enough to keep James safe, was she? Not when he valued himself so little thanks to the Department X programming. Everything she wanted was slipping through her fingers faster than she could hold onto it.
Whatever was left of her heart was breaking.
***
***
To Chapter Four - Ready To Let You Go