Trigger Warnings: None

Chapter 14

"What the hell do you mean 'she isn't coming down'?" Pierce snaps at Bishop as she stands by the door, hands in her pockets.

Bishop can only shrug helplessly, "(Y/N) says she doesn't trust the Lazarus, not after what it did to her yesterday." She forces her eyes to stay locked coolly on Pierce. It requires almost as much effort as it does for her to stand in a room across from Silas and not shoot him in the face… or the dick.

"She agreed to take these treatments, no matter how unpleasant." Silas snaps.

"She needs a day," Bishop shakes her head, "just one day off, that's all she's asking, and I agree with her. When Johanssen sent her up last night she was a wreck. She didn't sleep all night- as you can tell." She gestures to herself, emphasizing the deep purple bags under her eyes, her pale skin, and the general air of exhaustion surrounding her.

It's true- you hadn't slept all night. Not a wink. You sat up until Bishop went downstairs for this very meeting talking to the woman- deciding what her response should be to what Silas did. Or, rather, what her response shouldn't be. Your grandfather would never believe a guard over Silas if any accusations of impropriety were made, and in your current condition it'd be easy enough to convince Pierce that anything you say against the man is done from some drug-crazed hallucination. Bishop can't act as witness because as far as she is supposed to know she was on guard duty, she went upstairs, and you came in from Johanssen's lab. As for Johanssen- he could be killed by Pierce for falling asleep on the job and letting you wander off unescorted, and if they find out he was drugged it would only lead to more questions neither you nor Bishop was prepared to answer.

So the plan was this- act like nothing happened last night. The door to your bedroom is locked and you aren't opening it for anyone but Bishop, and find a way to set up a meeting with the Avengers and whoever Bishop works for.

"Johanssen? Does my granddaughter have any reason to be afraid of these treatments?" Pierce pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, willing his patience to last.

Of those in the room, only Silas is supposed to know the truth of how you walked up to bed. Johanssen is still willing to pretend he sent you up, and it gives him a defensive air not entirely out of place with his report, "I've never seen anything like what happened to (Y/N). It's like the Lazarus… backfired. It didn't do any permanent damage- at least nothing life-threatening- but it took a nibble out of her, I'm fairly positive. I have scientists and engineers pouring over the connections right now to see what caused it. As much as I hate to lose a day now that we're started, I said (Y/N)'s health would enter fatal stages after a few months. Losing one day won't put us off schedule. If anything it gives our people time to make sure the device is safe."

Pierce considers it, "Bishop, take (Y/N) off-property for the day. Tell her it's an apology for how yesterday turned out. Me acknowledging things went wrong. If she leaves though, she's agreeing to never miss another appointment. Is that clear?"

"Crystal." Bishop pulls her hands from her pockets and nods, heart pounding.

"You're dismissed." She leaves the room, carefully measuring her pace to not appear too eager. Pierce looks to Silas, "My meeting with General Ryker went well last night. He is willing to send more of his Gifted soldiers to remain here in residence."

"You really think the Avengers are going to make a play without securing the hostages first?"

Pierce nods, "I know you believe I am overestimating the threat they pose, but I'd rather assume they decide to approach their situation as Hydra would- weigh all those so-called 'innocent' lives against Mrs. Barton and her brood, and attack anyways. They have the Winter Soldier, I don't care if I have to leave a lieutenant or three out in the cold when Doomsday comes, their sacrifice is worth it if it means Cadmus is secured to go ahead as planned."

"I'll make the arrangements," Silas nods.

"I'll get back to work." Johanssen calls as both men turn and leave without another word.

You sit alone in a booth at the back of the dingy restaurant, giving off that special air of "Fuck You" that's uniquely yours, guaranteed to even keep the waiter away as you nurse a mug of coffee that arrived burnt and cold.

Bishop is long gone- off to prepare for the meet. It has to happen while you're out for the day, so neither has time to prepare, to plot, to scheme. Your side chooses the location and time, her side will come when notified. It was one of the things you'd discussed that long, sleepless night.

What Silas had done in that cell… he wasn't wrong when he said it wasn't something you'd allowed dealers before him to do as a form of payment. But that was the key, wasn't it? Allowed. Silas han't given you any choice, and whenever you told him "No", he hadn't backed down. Another rape. Another scar on your soul- a scar your tired, fractured mind was far too willing to black out.

Any time you let your mind consider what happened you feel a gaping maw open in your stomach- a sick, wrenching feeling that made the darkest corners of your mind whisper. The same maw that seems stronger if you let yourself consider the body of Prisoner 1-D, what Bucky had said about Lazarus, and what you knew deep down: A Barton was dead. Undoubtedly one of the children.

Did Laura know- did she know how close she was to being saved last night? Did she know what happened in the empty cell next to hers? How Silas typed on that keypad over and over again to summon various restraints and tools usually reserved for torture? Did she hear you scream as he took what he wanted and watched you for long stretches of time, playing as he wished?

That maw opens again and you quickly take a drink of the rancid coffee.

"I promise we can offer better." A bearded black man slips into the chair across from you with an amiable grin. His voice is deep and gruff, and you immediately fix him with a cold glair.

"Fuck yourself with a lead pipe."

"Now that's just cold." The deep voice vanishes, replaced with one a bit higher and infinitely more familiar. Beneath his disguise, Sam winks at you.

You blink hard. He's got a false beard, and there must be padding beneath his clothes to hide his athletic form, but even through the wig on top of his head and the false teeth, you can see the familiar, kind crinkle of his eyes. The disguise is almost perfect, "S-sorry, I didn't recognize you at all." You pull your defenses up to hide the pain in your eyes, unwilling to answer any questions about the night before.

"I don't blame you, this disguise is perfect." Sam smiles proudly, "Steve thought a baseball cap and a hoodie would have been fine. That guy's not the brightest bulb." He leans forward on the table and eyes the back door, "What do you say? Want coffee that's at least warm?"

"Lead the way."

Clint hits the ground hard and rolls a good ten feet before Wanda manages to latch on to him with her power and stop his body. Her exit from the trunk of the moving bus is more dignified, and she walks casually to her friend as her power snaps back. He groans and curses the whole time it takes him to stand, "Well that was fun."

"I could have blown out the tire or locked up the wheels," Wanda reminds him. They are hidden by the cloud of road dust that kicks up behind the bus as it speeds away. Still, she pulls Clint over to a storm drain and they slide down towards the edge of the lake, well out of sight of the road.

"Then they'd have stopped the bus to see what was wrong, and frankly I was sick of being wedged between people's shit."

"Whine, whine, whine, Wanda, I don't know how you put up with him." Bucky steps out from the drain just as they reach the edge

Wanda smirks, "Every day is a new trial."

"How far's the base?" Clint ignores Bucky's attempt at lighthearted conversation. He's in the same city as Laura, so incredibly close. Can she feel it, somehow? Can the kids feel it? Their nightmare is no closer to being over, but all Clint can do is blindly pray they at least have some kind of hope.

"Twenty minutes that way." Bucky jerks his head back up the road, "Your bus passed it on the way into town."

"Good," Wanda interrupts before Clint can say anything about wasted time or suggest they do something stupid like jog there, "we could both stand to stretch a bit after two days." She rubs her back to emphasize how stiff and sore it is. She takes a step and a jolt goes up from her hip into her spine- maybe the suggestion was a bit selfish, but judging by the wince on Clint's face she knows he feels it too.

"Any updates from (Y/N)?" Clint asks as he forces himself to walk.

"It's funny you should say that," he doesn't sound particularly optimistic, "Sam's bringing her in right now."

Wanda almost stops, "Why?"

"We don't know. Scott saw her leaving the base with Fake-Bishop, then the spy slipped out and left her alone. Sam says she wants to talk with all of us."

"What do you think it's about?" Clint asks.

Bucky sighs, "Yesterday Bishop cloaked her movements, made (Y/N) think she was being followed. This time she takes her to a shitty restaurant and blatantly leaves her. Something changed last night. I'll bet you anything Bishop is trying to convince (Y/N) we all need to sit down and have a nice, friendly ambush."

"You mean 'meeting'?" Wanda casts Bucky a raised eyebrow.

"Same thing."

Clint hates the idea, but he doesn't entirely want to dismiss it offhand. A chance to see who this 'Bishop' person really is? Who she really works for? "Are we at that point? The risking-new-allies point?"

Bucky only looks to him, "That's all up to you. We're with you whatever you decide, and we'll keep you from doing anything stupid- but it's a dice roll now. Either Bishop really is clean and there is no point in our two organizations remaining separate, or Bishop is an assassin who mistook (Y/N) for a sympathizer to her cause… or she is Hydra and this is all a trap to find out who (Y/N) allied herself with."

Clint hangs his head, but keeps walking, "I'll decide once I hear what she has to say."

"We'll follow your lead. You're the boss."

Clint's heart pounded painfully as he walked away from Laura and his kids and back to the edge of the city. It was stupid- they were underground half an hour's drive from his position, he was no more able to go get them right now than he was capable of controlling the sun above, but it physically pained him to backtrack, "I'm not sure I'll have the clearest head."

"It does not matter," Wanda patted him on the shoulder, "you have us for that."

"How are you? You ok?" Clint greets you with a bear hug.

"I'm ok," you say softly, "I'm alive." Your gut twists sharply at the thought of that body in the cell, but you push it back and pull the neck of your shirt aside for a moment to show him the patch blocking out Silas' listening device.

Bucky wraps his metal arm around your thin shoulders in a half-hug, then hesitates. His eyes flick to your wrists, still red from last night, then up your arms to meet your own eyes. He knows. You don't want to know how much he's figured out, but the trained Hydra assassin is pretty damn good at putting the clues together. He sighs, "His death won't be pretty."

"Promise?" You shake Wanda's hand, the only Avenger you haven't met of the little crew, and head back into the loft.

Bucky had wanted a warehouse, something low-profile with lots of piles of concrete and rebar to be used as emergency weapons. Sam wanted to camp in the woods, off the grid entirely, since Hydra and Stark might come looking for them. Steve wanted a dingy motel where no one might look twice at the group and where it wouldn't look too suspicious for an ex-junkie to be crawling around if you came to deliver reports.

They'd discussed it at length in Wakanda, and T'Challa had offered to help find the right place while the Avengers were en-route.

The King ordered for them a large, open loft near the edge of town. It was a very hipster-esque neighborhood, lots of rotted buildings being gutted to fit high-end shops and homes- but it still tended towards the rougher side after dark. The loft was all exposed brick with thick carpets, a minimalist kitchen, three bedrooms, glass and wood panels that slid along the floor to serve as adjustable walls, and a 360 degree view of the surrounding city. Not that it was anything you'd want to see.

You accept a mug of coffee from Sam (as promised- hot) and lead the Avengers over to a large empty space that was probably supposed to be a sitting area. Only when everyone was sitting on the floor with you do you start to talk.

"Last night I got close," you tell Clint, and he sucks in his breath, "like, I could have touched the door of her cell. They have Laura divided off from the kids-" that painful maw opens again, "-the cells have drains in the floor, and with the right codes in a keypad manacles come out of a few areas, and they can order tools. There must be a chute of some sort, so if I can find where the tools are coming from, that could be an alternative way in."

Scott- the bug guy- nods, pensive, "if there's any way you could get your hands on the blueprint of the cells, I might be able to figure out how to open the chute from the outside, bypass the keypad's control."

You nod, "I'll try." You take a deep breath, the hard part, "I screwed up, made a noise, and I would have been caught if it wasn't for Bishop- or whoever she is. She pulled me into a side tunnel. She had a bag with her, full of tools, and was in a stealth suit. It looked like she was planning on busting in. When she left the tunnel, she stopped to kiss her hand and touch it to the door." You look to Bucky for answers, "That wasn't even the strangest part."

Clint is already considering every possibility- if 'Bishop' might have a reputation for kissing her victims it certainly narrowed the field of who she might be, "Marco didn't really give us anything to go on with her- asshole," the curse was more of a grumble.

"Well, I might have something. Bishop showed me a picture she keeps on her- it's got you in it, Black Widow, her, and a bunch of Agents around you. Some kind of party, maybe."

That got Clint thinking, "So she's ex-SHIELD? What did I look like?"

"Younger than now," you shrug, "Black Widow had long hair, if it helps."

Clint waves that off, "Nat kept the long hair until relatively recently." He rubs his chin and leans back to look up at the ceiling, "So Bishop is ex-SHIELD, she knows Nat and I, and…" he shakes his head and looks back down, "I don't know anyone at SHIELD who would risk their life to save Laura's who isn't Natasha or dead, and if Bishop was Natasha, Pierce would have recognized her."

"Hydra could detect a holo-mask in their own base easily." Bucky offers, "She'd last about ten minutes with a fake face."

"There was… an incident." You can feel yourself go pale, your voice quiet and tremble slightly, but you press on, "Bishop had to leave me behind, as a distraction. It was my idea, it saved our lives, but… Bishop tried to save me from it as much as she could without blowing her own cover. She's convinced we have the same mission, and she wants to meet my team."

No one looks surprised, not even Steve. He just looks to Bucky, "Corner of Riverside and US-2. There's a warehouse there they haven't turned into apartments yet. It's a relatively nice area."

"That hardly sounds like a good place for a firefight to erupt," Sam shoots back.

"It's a terrible spot," Bucky agrees, "and that means whoever Bishop is with won't have had time to scout it out. The warehouse they're hoping we pick is by the railyard. They could be there now getting ready for a trap."

"Civilians will be hurt if this goes south," Clint joins in Sam's protest.

"It won't go that far," Bucky says. "I, you'll go with (Y/N), Clint, you'll stay up high, keep an eye out for snipers, Steve will handle the meet. Scott, you can lock the building down, Wanda and Sam, you keep it from spilling out onto the streets. The least recognizable of us- and Steve- meet Bishop, the rest contain the mess and make sure we don't end up in an ambush."

"You're hardly among the 'least recognizable'," Wanda points out. "My face was all over the news even less than yours when everything went to shit."

Bucky shrugs, "I've gotten a haircut and another arm. I'll be fine. We haven't gotten a clear shot of Bishop's face yet. If she's someone dangerous and we can't kill her, Clint at least can identify her without her identifying (Y/N) as an Avengers-sympathizer. If Hydra tortures her, I don't want her able to give anything up."

All eyes shift to Clint, it's his decision how to proceed. Bucky wasn't joking when he said Hawkeye was the boss. His family, his mission, his choice. Even you watch and wait while the man considers it, "I need to know what the playing field looks like," he says at last. "She doesn't know we're Avengers, she doesn't know how many of us there are, and hopefully her team isn't as good as ours. Putting Steve out sends a message, it could make her reconsider any attack. I say we go for it."

"How do you contact her?" Steve looks to you.

You check your watch and down the rest of the coffee, "I go back to the café and wait. She'll come for me, I'll bring her to the location." Sam makes to stand the same time as you, but you wave him off, "I'll walk. It'll give you all time to get there and get ready."

"Good luck," Bucky gets up to walk you to the door, "even if you don't see the Avengers, they'll make sure you're safe if things get bad."

"Thanks."

"I'll meet you outside the warehouse and escort you two in. If they have a sniper, we'll let them slip in as well. If we're gutting Bishop's crew, we're going to be thorough. Today, either way, things are going to get a lot simpler."

Your voice is so quiet you don't even think Bucky will hear when you start to speak, "I think one of the kids is-"

"Don't say it." Bucky's face doesn't hold warning, but a deep weariness, "We need hope. Don't say it."

You nod, "I'll see you at the warehouse."

"Chin up," Bucky offers a slight smile, "today we might get to kill some bad guys."

"I don't kill. Not even bad guys."

He gives you a wink, smiles darkly, and opens the door, "You're missing out."

Bishop slides into the chair across from you so quickly you're glad Bucky or Sam didn't drop you off. She must have been watching and waiting, "Where's the meet?"

"A warehouse on the corner of Riverside and US-2."

Bucky would have taken immense satisfaction in the frustration that flashes across Bishop's face, "That's a residential area."

"Planning an attack?" You ask innocently, "It's just a pow-wow, right?"

She laughs bitterly, "You don't trust me and mine, and I don't trust you and yours." She chews on the inside of her cheek, "I guess if anything it makes us all behave." She growls and pulls out her cell phone to text the address to whoever her team might be, "They were on the far side of the city."

"I think that was my companion's idea." You smile innocently, then get up, "It's a fifteen minute walk. We'll meet them there."

Bishop stands more slowly, "The idea was to meet on even ground."

"Trust me, you could bring an army and it still wouldn't be even ground." You feign confidence as you walk back out of the dingy place and head down the street, the woman at your side looking drawn and tense.

Bishop doesn't even speak to you as you both walk. She occasionally checks for signs of some follower- a Hydra spy maybe- but no one pays you two any attention as you enter the edge of a neighborhood filled with cute little houses. You look like a recovering junkie and her sponsor out for a stroll- or a girl and her much older sister. Bishop has more than a decade on you, "How did you know him?" You ask at last.

"Doesn't matter."

"You knew two Avengers. I think it merits a story."

"No, it doesn't." She's on the defensive again. The relative truce you two had called after last night was wholly and completely being used to pull Bishop towards the meeting with the Avengers. She was obviously reconsidering being so friendly with you.

You see the warehouse roof ahead as you allow the walk to lapse into silence once more. You and Bishop are two sides of the same coin- both drawn, both pale, both with your hearts pounding in your ears. Her loose fitting blazer hides any weapons she might have strapped on, and you catch a hint of body armor peeking over the edge of the neckline. She's ready for a fight, you aren't. Still, chances are better you walk out of one alive. Especially after there is a whisper from the bushes beside you and Bucky slides out to fall into step.

A change of clothes and he's a different person entirely. His hair is casually slicked back in that 'I-just-got-out-of-bed' kind of way, and he's wearing simple tennis shoes, slacks, and an airy black shirt. Bucky casts you a wink, "Bishop, your friend arrived before you. Don't worry-" he says at her sharp, startled glance, "we didn't touch her. She thinks she's being stealthy. She'll be set up to shoot me in the head. My guys will be covering you and her."

You cross the street and enter the warehouse, thankful for the steadying hand Bucky puts on your back. He lets Bishop bring up the rear, even though now she knows damn well she's at the disadvantage if a fight breaks out. Inside the warehouse it's as open and exposed as can be. She looks up to where her leader is undoubtedly hiding- somewhere with a clear view of the room but where the room can't get a clear view of her. It's a warning, to expose her position so openly- They know you're up there.

Clint, parallel to the hooded woman in the rafters, but much better at hiding, draws his bow as you, Bucky, and Bishop enter. He has a clear shot of the back of the woman's head. One wrong move, one wrong breath, and he will put an arrow through her skull then through her companion before the one in the hoodie even finds his position.

"Agent Bishop," Steve clips the words as he steps out from behind a pillar just out of the hooded woman's line of shot, "it's nice to finally-" the second she steps out from behind Bucky the air goes out of Steve's lungs. His mouth hangs open for a long time, and when he breaths it's more of a hard pant. You and Bucky brace- was he hurt somehow? Steve looks up to the rafters, "Get your ass down here- now." He's breathless.

Clint curses having his own position given away, but he loosens the string on his bow, slings the weapons back over his shoulder, and grabs a repel line. He'd better be damn sure about this- that this imposter is a friendly, that there won't be a need to-

His feet hit the floor and Bishop turns, the same stunned expression on her face as Steve's. At the sight of Clint she claps a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. He takes in Bishop for all of half a second before he takes a step forward and his legs give out. You and Bucky watch, incredulous, as Bishop throws herself at Clint and wraps her arms around him. He cups her head in his hands, feeling for a holo-mask, before he too lets out a sob.

"Laura?"