A/N: First look at Asgard in all of this. For those of you who were wondering when Loki was going to start coming into this. Though he doesn't really, but we're getting there.

Song: Saved Isn't Home - Firefly

Out of force of habit, Stella's eyes opened and her body automatically swung out of bed, going through the routine of the morning like a robot while her mind still woke up all the way. Her iPod was playing her alarm, still plugged into the wall from where she had put it the night before. Was this...Brother Bear?! Since when was this still on my iPod?! she thought to herself blearily and immediately turned off the music. Before long, she realized she was dressed, sitting on her neatly made bed, and everything was straightened and tidied. Romanoff hadn't been waiting in any of the closets, making her habitual and reflexive dodging look very strange and almost seizure-like to any outside watcher.

In the end, she decided that she would just grab a little breakfast, then go and begin her preliminary run-through exercises. Maybe Romanoff was waiting for her there. But in both places, she was alone.

SIghing she walked over to her "designated" corner, dropped to the ground and began going through her warm up routine. She had gone through ten sets of fifty push-ups, sit-ups, and various exercises when she heard footsteps approaching her.

"Hey Stella," a voice said and she sat up to see Patrick crouched on the ground before her. "How are you?" Stella smiled and shrugged.

"I'm okay. You?"

"Been better," he said and held a hand down to her which she took, letting herself be pulled to her feet. "I've been thinking. Have you tried the obstacle course yet?"

"Um, no, I don't think so," she answered and looked up at him. "Where is it?"

"Next room over. I think you'll be a natural," he told her, voice full of confidence. They through the door at the far side of the room and the girl's eyes widened.

"Holy shit!" Patrick nodded and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Go on. Oh, you should probably use the rope for that last jump," he said pointing and Stella's eyes widened again.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said, turning to look at her companion, but he was gone, standing over at the start of the course, beckoning her over. "Um, no."

"Come on!"

"No!"

"Chicken," Patrick said, voice immature and taunting.

...

"Fine," she responded and walked over.

~'*'~

The reason there was no one waiting for her and no indication of what she was doing that day, was because her mentor was currently undergoing a shouting match with a rather irritated director.

"She hasn't even begun her formal training yet!" Romanoff protested, exasperated.

"Then get her started on their training!" Fury retorted. "Council is getting a bit anxious about this. They want her ready for deployment as soon as possible."

"Ready for deployment?" she repeated, voice in disbelief. "What is she a weapon?! Tell the Council that if they want her to be a weapon they should have sent her off to some one else. I'm raising her to be a soldier, not a weapon!"

"Romanoff, I thought we made it clear that she was going to be used for an elite mission. Council wants that mission as soon as possible." Romanoff slammed her fists down on the table and glared at her superior with a fiery gaze.

"This isn't going to work. Either you let me work, or she gets trained by someone else," she growled.

"Not an option. You are going to train her."

"I CAN'T. THAT'S THE PROBLEM HERE!"

"You can. And you will. Speed up the preliminaries. Start physically conditioning her, get her measurements for a uniform, and start properly training her. Then send her out on some real, smaller missions. Those can be her build up. But you need to find her trigger and flip it. You need to get her to that violent phase in the Gladiator Pit - yes I know you call it that - and train her to follow that whenever she goes on a mission. You need to get her to focus on becoming a weapon and less of a sociable agent."

"Then why did you let her meet Thompson and his friends? They're going to be her team, you know that, and they are our most...colorful group."

"I need her to be a sociable agent when required, but I want that violent side to be her base nature." Romanoff laughed bitterly.

"She's practically an adult, Director. She's a year older than everyone else in her grade because she was held back as a kindergartener due to family crisis and instability - meaning us and Phil. Her nature is to be kind, loving, and supportive. Her comparative and opposite characteristics are stubbornness, apathy, and aggression. She's her dad all over again, except with her mother's emotional sensitivity!"

"Her mother's weakness," Fury corrected and the Russian turned away, disgusted. "You need to bring out her other characteristics, Agent. You need to groom those and push her normal self into the back of her mind. We need this." Romanoff looked down at her boots and took an angry breath.

"What would you do if Phil could hear you saying this?" she asked, voice dead and flat. Fury's mouth tightened and he pointed her in the direction of the door. "No, you answer me!" The tall man gazed at her with a stony expression.

"He would understand."

"Understand what?"

"It's for the greater good. All we do is for the greater good, Romanoff. And the mission we would send this girl on is more than just for our greater good, it's for the planet's greater good. You need to bring this out. This nightmare." Romanoff picked up the printed still of the security feed. That angry, dead expression stabbed at Romanoff's heart as did the violent strike to the man's knee that had disabled the other contestant.

"Nightmare..." Romanoff said softly. She shook her head and scoffed before taking the picture and leaving the room.

Barton was just leaving the mess hall when he saw Nat storming in his direction, looking very annoyed. Sighing in resignation, he went to meet her halfway and fell into step beside her. Silence was their only other companion on their way to the training rooms. Finally, the archer couldn't take the tension beside him, the bomb waiting to go off, and asked the question.

"What did Fury do now?"

"He wants me to turn Stella into a weapon over night. For some elite Council mission," she said, voice angry. "I can't just throw the rules and methods out the window to satisfy Council wants! I'm sure that their mission will still be there when I'm done with Coulson."

"They could get rid of you," Barton warned but she simply laughed.

"What and have me on the streets for hire? That would be a global cause for concern."

"No I meant get rid of you." She gave him a look.

"You tried to kill me once. How did that work?"

"Wellll..." he began and Nat rolled her eyes. "Oh, Stella's already in there doing her warm up exercises. Keeps to a schedule." Romanoff raised an eyebrow and tilted her head briefly to the side.

"Seems as though I did something right." They opened the doors and walked in to find all of the people who had been working out a few minutes ago gathered in the doorway. "What's going on?" She and Clint made their way to the front of the crowd and Romanoff sighed, a sense of hidden wonder in her eyes. "You're kidding."

"No...I think that's pretty real," Clint assured her and started as the assassin swatted him upside the head. "Ow!"

"No, it's an illusion, of course it's real!" They watched in silence.

"Damn, she's good," the archer muttered and Romanoff raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side.

"Eh...she'll get by."

"You're a hard person to please," Clint told her without removing his fixed gaze from the obstacle course.

"Of course. I'm a Russian assassin," she answered, also keenly staring.

~'*'~

Stella jumped and frowned in focus as her hands caught the acrobatics bar and she swung herself forward releasing at the precise moment to go sailing through the air, somersaulting safely onto the landing platform beside Patrick.

"Fast learner," he commented and she nodded.

"Muscle memory's a bit...hyperactive," she answered and the senior agent took off running again, ducking, sliding, jumping, and climbing with the ease of walking. Stella shook her head doggedly and ran after the man, following his movements as best as she could, wincing as she knocked over a few of the barriers. She didn't even pause to think that those shouldn't be able to fall over before she was racing over to the next obstacle. Patrick was like a parkour fighter, she thought to herself as she took the easier routes when she could, but vaulted over some of the taller walls with an imitation of sloppy grace. Soon, she was at the top of the steeply inclined course and saw Patrick jump for the far ledge.

He had missed the rope hanging midway, and Stella saw what he meant by needing to use it.

Even though he was a senior agent, having spent a majority of his life with S.H.I.E.L.D., he, too, couldn't make it to the far side and instead crashed painfully into the edge, falling down onto the thickly padded ground at least fifteen feet below.

"You okay?" she called down to him, kneeling. The adult shook his head, dazed, stood, and gave her a goofy grin.

"Use the rope, okay? I've been here near twenty years. Don't be an idiot!" he called and stepped off to the side. "Go on, go for it!" Stella stood up and took a shaky breath, laughing nervously to herself.

"This is crazy," she muttered to herself and bounced up and down on her feet, fingers nervously drumming on the side of her leg. She looked over her shoulder and swore as she saw the crowd watching her. This was going to be embarrassing.

Then before she had time to think about it, her feet were moving and she leaped, hands reaching out to grab the rope. As soon as the rough material was between her hands, she clamped her feet down on the thick rope, stopping her descent. She ignored a burning feeling in her hands as the rope swung with her sudden attack.

Almost, just one more swing should do it -

But her nerves got the best of her; she let go.

And Romanoff was running before her apprentice even hit the opposite platform.

~'*'~

"Yes sir, Director. We'll tell you the moment she is ready for training again."

When Stella opened her eyes she found herself staring into the eyes of a specific Doctor Jones.

"Hello there Miss Coulson," she said kindly and immediately pushed the rising girl back down into the bed. "You're not going anywhere right now. You hit your head pretty hard and messed up a few ribs. What was Demos thinking? You are in no way ready for that jump. Most agents aren't until the end of their training. Though..." she said thoughtfully and looked carefully at her, "you came pretty damn close. If you had just waited one more swing or so you would have made it. Did you ever have any overly strong people in your family?" Stella shook her head and sat up again before the doctor could protest. "Didn't that hurt?"

Stella shook her head mutely and the doctor walked over and gently poked and prodded at the girl's ribs.

"What on earth?" she muttered and pulled the supportive bandages aside. She shook her head in bafflement and flipped through a few papers on her clipboard when she froze and ran to her computer, typing furiously. Stella caught a capital R, some strange co-centric circles, but her slightly hazy vision couldn't make out anything else on the rapidly changing computer screen. "Director!" the doctor called, hurrying out the door. "Director, there's something you need to see!"

"Thank god, thought she would never leave," a voice said and Stella tried to shrink down in her bed as Romanoff stepped out of the closet and shut the door. "How are you?"

"Pretty good actually," she answered and Romanoff shrugged.

"Well that's what happens when you're genetically favored." Stella frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, disoriented. Romanoff gave her that annoying raised eyebrow, and the assassin sat on the bed by her.

"What were you thinking?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

"I...I don't know," Stella answered, but Romanoff waited expectantly. For about two minutes, they engaged in an on and off staring contest that ended with Stella's eyes shifting away guiltily. "I guess...I wanted to make you proud," finally came the soft answer. Romanoff nodded and relaxed her tense sitting position. Had that answer come from anyone else, she would have treated it as another lie. But coming from Coulson's daughter, she believed it.

"Well, Stella you'll have a long time to do that. I don't want you to tackle things that you aren't ready for to try and impress me," the agent admonished and Stella nodded, looking down. "You did well though. Tell you what, every day after our basic training you can try to get that jump. When you can do that course properly, under forty-five seconds, you won't be an apprentice anymore. When you can make the final jump, without that rope, you'll be ready for your final mission." Stella gaped slightly.

"Under forty-five seconds, and without the rope?!" she asked shocked. Romanoff looked at her cooly.

"It can be done," she assured the girl and walked to the door.

"Who was it?" the girl asked as she was half-way out the door. "You?" Romanoff gave a short bark of laughter before turning her head to look at the girl on the bed.

"No. It was someone normal. Without any enhancements. He did that course in forty-five seconds flat. A course that takes me fifty seconds. In a situation of life or death, those five seconds mean everything."

"What about the jump? How did he do it without the rope?" Romanoff hesitated, thinking.

"He took four steps," she answered slowly. "Closed his eyes, backed up, ran, and jumped."

"He did it with his eyes closed?!" Stella asked, taken-aback and disbelieving. Romanoff looked at her steadily.

"Phil was always a man of self-faith."

Nat closed the door and left the startled girl alone with her thoughts.

~'*'~

Demos was pacing back and forth in his quarters, literally wanting to beat his head in on the wall. How could he have asked her to jump? How?! Why?! He should have realized she couldn't have made it! Now she was lying in the medical bay, dying for all he knew and -

"Demos? Can I come in?" an authoritative voice asked and he yanked open the door to reveal Director Fury standing in his doorway.

"D - Director," he stammered but the taller man waved his concern aside. "I'm sorry for what happened with Stella, I swear it is all my fault. I pressured her into it. You've got to believe me it was my fault and not - "

"Demos! Settle down!" Fury ordered and the agent fell silent. "I want you to gather Simone Herring, Lily Reichen, Ian Thompson, and Alicia Wong in here right now." Demos nodded.

"Yes sir."

"And Demos!" he called as the agent practically ran out of the room.

"Yes sir?"

"Please don't look like Death just warmed you over. Relax, none of you are in trouble." Patrick nodded with the same level of tenseness.

"Yes sir." He ran out the door and Fury sighed, rubbing his face in exasperation. Maybe it was the eyepatch, he thought to himself idly as he waited for the agents to return. Or was it the trench coat?

Maybe it was both, he conceded.

~'*'~

"Before you ask, no you're not in trouble. Am I disappointed with what happened to Stella Coulson? Yes, but that is not why you are all here. You are here because I am assembling you in a team," the Director said seriously and the five agents looked at each other in some surprise. "Yes you can look surprised. You don't have to hide it."

"Sir, why, if I may ask?" Alicia asked and their superior eyed her carefully.

"Stell Coulson comes from a special line," he said finally. "Her father was one of our best agents and we plan to make Stella one of our best agents. We want to create an elite force in our own organization, a go to team since Romanoff and Barton are with the Avengers and therefore unreliable. All you need to know at this moment is that Coulson is destined for greater things than anyone on the force right now - "

"Save the Avengers," Lily interjected and Fury glared momentarily. "Sorry."

"You aren't actually right with that statement. Stella Coulson is meant for a task that even the Avengers can't take on. But in order for her to reach that level, she'll need a team, a group she can rely on. And I want you all to be that group. You'll take her on real missions so that she can gain the experience needed for her final mission."

"Final? How long will we be a team?" Ian asked, confused.

"For as long as it takes. Hopefully no more than two years."

"Then why will it be her final mission?" Simone responded slowly.

"You're beginning to ask too many questions," Fury growled. "This last bit of the conversation you can not under any circumstance tell Stella. It would be catastrophic."

"Why?" Lily asked, belligerently, and Fury looked at them all.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," he answered coldly. No further questions were asked.

~'*'~

From that day on, Stella trained earlier and went later. Her body hardened. Romanoff hit harder and faster. Soon, they were a deadly ballet that went on for hours, a dance of parries, hits, and brutal force. And at the end of every day, Stella took on the obstacle course, becoming better at the moves needed to go through the maze of challenges. But her time remained fixedly at sixty seconds. No matter how fast she ran, how hard she practiced, how long she trained. Sixty seconds was her limit. Every day.

She began group exercises of tactics and strategy with her team, they ran stimulations, stayed up late studying. They memorized target profiles, tested each other on the content, and learned each others every aspect. They could communicate through a single glance, the slightest inflection in their voice.

And every day, Stella woke up faster, got ready quicker, and became more ruthless. More violent, more robotic. More of a machine. Romanoff tried to ignore it, but it was there. The girl that she had appreciated for her personality, her balanced self was vanishing to be replaced by a weapon. But when her training was over, that was switched off, revealing her normal self. But still there was a damper on her spirit. As though something was breaking, creaking under the pressure.

And Romanoff hated it. She knew what it felt like to be unmade by people who were supposed to be supporting her, and she didn't want to be the instrument doing it to someone else. And that was when she made her choice. No more. Not ever.

So, one day, Romanoff gave the girl a day off and took her out of the base for the first time in months.

"Where are we going?" Stella asked and Romanoff looked at her.

"I want to take you to a special place that I like going to. I have some things I need to talk to you about."

~'*'~

The air was cold. So...cold...

His wounds ached and burned as though ice and fire were being applied to his body alternatively. Like fire and ice...

What do you want from me?! his tortured, raw voice screamed.

But of course there was no sound. There never would be any sound. Never. No matter how long or how hard he screamed, there would be no sound to shatter the peaceful air. The only sound would be in his imagination, for even his mind was silent.

Bloodied hair, torn up skin, emaciated form, hollow eyes bereft of the hope or will to live any longer, yet lacking the conviction needed to die. Limbs devoid of the strength to fight back any more, yet left with enough instinct to try and resist. Helpless to defy his fate, and left with some shred of hope for redemption. Heart yearning to scream to relieve his soul's pain, yet a throat too abraded to make any more noise. And a mouth forever sealed.

There would never be any sound ever again.

Heimdall withdrew his gaze from the dismal sight and turned it towards Midgard. It was always a method of calming his troubled mind, gazing at Midgard. There was always a happy family to warm his heart, little children playing, places of peaceful beauty. But this time there was something that drew his gaze. Something menacing stirring that he could not pinpoint. Something that he couldn't define as person, thing, entity, or something else. All he knew was it was living. And it was growing.

A/N: so, slightly cliff-hangery ending (I just love those). Why do you think Stella healed so quickly? Should I keep the Coulsons normal (preferable) or have a slightly super aspect to their family including co-centric circles?