to be brave
There is a methodical grace to decompressing after a long battle. But even then, SHIELD knows just how to bleach it. How to starch it. How to make something once calm and relaxing into something clinical and archived. OR, the idea that SHIELD has paperwork for everything and Steve is bitter; but not because of the paperwork. Well, sort of.
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Natasha, for all her deadly grace and stoic features, knew exactly what she was looking at (point your toes, mramor devushka, or I'll bring out the whi-). She let out the smallest of sighs. She rolled her shoulders once. Twice. Another sigh. "What's all this racket about?" A figure drops from the ceiling and Natasha isn't surprised because who else besides her partner can navigate the air ducts like a pro? So the Hawk and the Widow stare through the glass as an industrial hose rains down on a small girl. She's got long black hair hung around her shoulder like a drowned puppy, empty amber eyes staring forward- as if she could see through the shadowed glass. "Code name Blurr. She was the medical help on the scene in Sokovia.", she muttered. Clint whistled. If he were a lesser man, he might have romanticized the curve of her full bust, or the peak of her pert bottom. He might have traced the valley of her chest into her small middle, legs promising lithe strength and speed. But he was an agent of SHIELD. His sharp eyes took in her muscled biceps and tight core, the thick callouses on her feet and hands. He methodically took apart her short frame, her small face, her delicate bones (I've got you now, okay? My name is Brave, I'm a certified doctor. I'm going to fix you, just keep your eyes on me-) and he exhaled.
The water shut off. "Agent Blurr, if you could exit to your right. Director Fury and Captain Rogers are ready to debrief you.", a voice commanded over the P.A. system. The five-foot medic slinked off from view. "Does this make us voyeurs? You know, for watching her shower?", Clint wondered aloud. Natasha snorted. "Oh baby, talk dirty to me.", she remarked dryly. The two assassins exited the viewing room. They had a debriefing to catch.
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They were really fond of yelling. At least, that's what Bruce thought. Cap was starting to turn red and the vein on Fury's neck was pulsing. "We are not HYDRA, Fury!", he hissed, slamming his hands on the table before them. Fury twitched. "I know that, Rogers, but what you fail to understand is-", Captain cut him off here, "What? What is there to understand? SHIELD tried to make their own little winter soldier and when that failed, you let her loose. Oh, but not before covering your tracks, am I right? Not before having her kill her own parents!" Tony whistled. "Ladies, ladies, there is no need to fight. You're both beautiful! So unless you wanna duke it out in a vat full of chocolate pudding, I'd suggest we put this behind us and deal with the situation on hand. Like the fact that said girl is right here. Osay itquay ightingfay aboutway itway!" Bruce winced. That was their Tony, alright. He had such a way with words.
The girl in question sat gracefully in her seat before them. Her long black hair was efficiently pulled back into a french braid, amber eyes staring forward and unblinking. "Director Fury and I have reached an agreement, so there's no need to argue Captain Rogers. This is what I was meant for- all he's done is remind me.", her dulcet tone seemed flat. Fury cringed. "You can't tell me she didn't come in handy. She saved lives out there, Rogers. Hell, she even managed to save the Maximoff boy, didn't she? Forty-seven shots, centered on his chest. And she brought him back." His one eye dared Steve to retaliate. Well, never let it be said that Steven Rogers ever backed down from a fight. "My issue isn't with her mutant abilities. My issue is with the fact that SHIELD played with her DNA like it was a My Child's First Nucleotide kit. Programmed her like some sort of- some sort of robot! Like she wasn't even human!" The tension in the room was rising. "I get you're all butt-hurt about your winter soldier- and yeah, maybe this hits a little too close to home! But she's here now, Cap. And she isn't going anywhere any time soon.", Tony tugged at Steve's elbow. The super soldier huffed before dropping his shoulders and breathing in deeply. He turned to face Brave.
"My name is Steve Rogers. I'm the Captain of the Avengers Initiative.", he offered kindly. The girl blinked. "I-er, the people, I guess, they call me Captain America. I'll be your...leader? Yes, you're leader from here on out." She seemed to respond to that, slinking upwards into a straight stance. "Understood. Agent Brave Young, codename Blurr, sir." She passed a glass tablet over. "My files should be available for your use." Tony stole it before Steve could grasp it, tapping away on it merrily. Clint swerved in front of Steve. "Hey, you! Do I know you?", he asked eagerly. Brave gave a slow blink (laceration to the left bicep, contusion on the temporal frontal- shit, internal hemorrhaging starting to swell, need to ease it, need to fix, need need need-) and nodded. "St. Petersburg. 2009.", her hand reached out to trace the silvery scar above his left eyebrow. "No way. I call bullshit. You must have been, what? 16? You were born in '93.", Tony raised an eyebrow, pulling her information up on the clunky monitor before them. His lip curled. SHIELD tech was always so...dated. Brave gave him a dry smile. "Child soldiers are not unheard of. Especially when the soldier in question is a mutant who can play human bodies like their silly putty.", Clint muttered. Her hand was still ghosting over his face, as if she were watching the wound in real time.
Natasha stood back, watching the scene in front of her unfold. Fury looked agitated (and dare she say it, guilty?) and Tony was busy hacking away at SHIELDS firewalls. Steve was (failingly) trying to connect with the young girl while she piece apart Clint's body in a mind game of operation. Bruce was sorting through some paper files on the table, frowning at the thick black lines marring them (deducted information, how curious) and Wanda was nowhere to be seen. If she had to guess? She was in med-bay with her twin. "Not that I don't love it when we get together, but I've got a mimosa with my name on it waiting at the tower. Director.", she gave a short nod before slinking out the room. The echoing steps of her teammates followed her. Natasha almost smiled. Back there, in the showering chamber, Natasha knew exactly what she was looking at. It was her duty, then, to fix her. Like how Clint fixed her. Like how Steve wanted to fix James. Natasha had peeked behind the glass and had found a doll, and now it was time to give it life. Natasha just hoped she could be br- she snorted. She hoped she could be brave. "Oh, the irony."
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Pepper hummed as she played around with her Stark pad, zooming through the schematics of the building. When Tony had redesigned the place after The Battle Of Manhattan, he had cordoned the top fifty floors for the Avengers. The top floor belonged to Clint and Natasha, who had always felt better high up. Thor had an empty room up there as well, but spent most of his time with Jane on the residential floor for scientists (and Darcy, but she liked to think she was an honorary science bro). She and Tony shared the floor directly below the assassins. Below them was Steve's and Sam's, with a space for Bucky. That left the last residential floor for the Maximoff twins and...and Brave. She hesitated. "JARVIS, has SHIELD sent any belongings for Ms. Young over?" She exited on to the communal floor, with it's theatre sized living room and sweeping windows. The kitchen behind it gleamed. "Steve must have made them tidy up.", she thought fondly, dragging her hand across the dust free furniture. "It seems they have sent one box forward, Ms. Potts. Its contents reveal a STARK pod, a few photo frames, an odd amount of medical supplies, and…", JARVIS hesitated. Pepper frowned. "What? What is i-", the AI cut her off, "Dog tags. A box of dated dog tags." Pepper dropped her tablet. What in the world was a twenty three year-old doing with dead men's metal?
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"Welcome to Avengers Tower, Young! This is the communal floor for Earth's Mightiest Super Heroes. To your left, we have a game room. To your right is the kitchen and dining area. And before you? My pride and joy. The living room!" Tony beamed at her. The living room was a hodge-podge mix of bean bags and broken-in leather recliners, one long and curved couch between them all. Strangely enough, there was a padded swing hanging from the air vents. The wall to ceiling windows showed the best of Manhattan- gleaming water and towering skyscrapers (none taller than the Avengers). There was a large balcony with a small garden growing connected to the bar. A strange, metal pathway led out into open air. Tony continued, "You'll be sharing a floor with Speedy Gonzalez and Sabrina, the teenage witch." The group seemed to migrate on to the couches. Natasha was already in the midst of making herself a mimosa, handing something sweet-smelling and blue to Clint. "The twins are in med-bay still. Pietro is throwing a fit, claiming his 'sweet angel' had already fixed him up.", he snickered, taking a long sip. Eyes turned to Brave.
(Gunshot wounds. .40 caliber, forty-seven shots, centered to chest. Remove them, Young. Nudge the cells. They need to knit. Focus on the organs. Keep the blood inside, not out. Heart rate is slowing, give it a pinch. There. Keep knitting. Keep moving the blood. Here, first breath. Life.)
Brave gave them a bland smile. "He should be fine. He was only dead for seven and a half minutes." Steve laughed nervously. "Yeah. Only seven minutes.", Bruce muttered incredulously. Clint had climbed up to his padded perch, happily sipping away at his drink ("It's a Blue Hawaiian. Had one during an Op in Maui and let me tell you-") while kicking his feet back and forth. "I-I'm not sure what I should do. Do I rest in the barrack's until our next mission?" Her head tilted curiously. Tony wasn't sure if he wanted to coo or scoff. "Lady Brave, you are a warrior of ours now! Surely you jest? Shall we not henceforth commence revelries? We have stopped villainous Ultron's obliteration of Midgard! This calls for celebration!" The tall, blonde god cheered as he doused his beer with some sort of liquid that looked like a melted galaxy. Natasha gave her smirk. "You drink, Young?", she asked as she polished off her Mimosa. She reached for the vodka and poured herself a healthy dose. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm your tool. Shouldn't you want me sober?" She sat crisscross on the floor, picking at the fluffy white carpet. Bruce opened his mouth to counter that when the doors to the elevator opened. The twins.
Wanda whispered quietly to her brother, orbiting around him like the moon to the earth. "Should you not rest? Pietro, please, take a nap at least.", she begged. He slung his arm around her shoulders. "Sestra, please! You overreact. That...that kheruvim saved me! I am telling you, like an angel she came down and, and- there was a halo! I swear it!" His hands moved wildly to illustrate what Pietro was sure was divine intervention. Wanda rolled her eyes. "I know, I know. And then the kheruvim whispered sweet nothings to you while working her magic. And she made my brat feel all warm and fuzzy and numb while she healed your wounds. What? Did she flutter her eyelashes at you while she pulled the millions of metal bullets out?" Wanda laughed at Pietro's pouting face. "Don't look so down, brat, perhaps you'll meet your kheruvim again one day." Natasha snickered from her place behind the bar. Steve and Bruce took refuge in the kitchen, making dinner for the team of nine. Rhodey was in DC, soothing ego's and the Vision was touring planet Earth. "Vash kheruvim pryamo zdes'!", she jutted her chin towards Brave, jeering. The twins froze. Slowly, as if scared of spooking her away, they turned their faces away from each other to look at the girl before them.
"Kheruvim."
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AN: Here is the next installment, assholes. Twins and Brave finally make contact! Woo! *throws confetti* So review. Drop a note. Whatever! Also, take note that this is rated M for a reason. There will definitely be explicit scenes later on.
****BONUS:
[Sir, if I may, I have located footage of Ms. Youngs time in SHIELD capacity. It seems they kept clips of her experimentation. Shall I review it?]
Tony grinned. "Play it, JARVIS."
[an empty room. brave is sitting in a corner. two masked grunts pull in a broken figure. "fix her", a voice intones. brave shakes her head wildly. "fix her", it repeats. she screams. "I can't! I can't fix her! she is dead! deaddeaddead-", she slams her hands on the floor. "fix her", it commands once more. brave lifts her sobbing figure towards the still one, placing her hands on it. nothing happens. and then, the dead body shutters forward, as if shocked with electricity. brave screams. "this is wrong! so, so wrong, you should be dead-", she grabs the hand of the now alive body. it drops. "i told you to fix it. not kill it.", the voice says. the two grunts walk in, passing the body to grab brave. one of them lifts a gun to her temple. she keeps screaming. the feed cuts out.]
Tony is shaking. "J-JARVIS. Keep digging. Something is wrong here."
He shuts off his monitor, grabs his empty tumbler, and exits his lab.
[...Of course, sir.]