So sorry. I forgot about adding chapters here… yay to binge-reading?
WARNINGS! This chapter has some dark themes – usually brief and not always explicit, but dark; dub-con, memory of a non-con from Damned if I Don't (even if Vera had been saved a minute to midnight), near-panic attacks and obviously mentions Matt's and Jackie's death.
Mind the warnings. I will bold the sentence that marks the beginning of it and the end. You won't miss much, I promise…. then again, the whole chapter is rather dark, so… you can skip to the end to see the most important fact we learn in this chapter.
…
12. The Mistress (of Two Angry Fellows)
Living at the mansion was a dream to Vera.
A surreal, entirely fucked-up dream of which she couldn't decide whether was a nightmare or not.
Under different circumstances – very different ones – she might enjoy certain aspects of the luxury provided, of the free vacation with unlimited supply of food, access to Wi-Fi, a TV, a swimming pool, various sources of entertainment and everything she could even think of. Hell, even a presence of a man wasn't too bad – and he was nothing but generous and surprisingly patient… she supposed.
But she wasn't a complete idiot and her naïve years were long gone. Yes, she idled; she did some brief research – or pretended to do so – on Kuznetsov and the area he worked in as if searching for matters to talk about with him; she read few fanfiction stories to TV shows she used to watch; she called Skye and later also to Coulson and May.
All of that too well-aware of the fact that the room was probably bugged, her internet history monitored, just as her calls and texts. Which was why she called her friend Sunny – which was a rather cheeky nickname, but Nica couldn't resist and knew that Skye would appreciate it and would quickly understand why she called her that - and her benefactors Parkers, so they wouldn't worry about her safety.
So Kuznetsov didn't worry about her safety – or whatever made him feel better, Vera guessed – he also booked her a private self-defence teacher in reaction to Ward's unwanted advances, supposedly to improve her technique, because he could tell from her lovely figure that she had been through some training before.
Vera would have never guessed how hard it would be to hold back and pretend she had barely any clue what she was doing. Clearly, she sucked at it, because Nikolay smirked and whispered something to the trainer's ear – next thing she knew, she was blocking a brutal unexpected attack, instinctively responding in kind and pining Gerard the trainer to the mat of a private gym at the mansion. While she panted for air, her heart hammering in her ribcage in horror, Kuznetsov smiled widely, slowly clapping his hands.
A brief spark of suspicion flashed in his eye, but Vera's brain, flooded with adrenalin, fortunately came up with the same tactics as always – to tell partial truth to cover the whole conspiracy.
"Didn't want you to think of me like of some brawler. But I spent a lot of time in New York," she responded to his unspoken suspicion with a shrug, taking a generous gulp of water. "Dangerous place. Spent over a year teaching too, even was lucky enough to meet interesting people."
"…like?"
Vera wasn't too afraid to share – she trusted Sunny to make her alias fool-proof, creating her persona in a way that would match as much as possible, but wouldn't giveaway too much when Kuznetsov's people had done a background check on her – and Vera had no doubt that they had. Fortunately, New York was a big crowded place and so was Manhattan alone.
"A radio host here, a lawyer there."
"Useful," Nikolay smirked, gaze trailing over Vera's sweaty body and it took her a lot of willpower not to flinch or to snap at him a the wordless implication.
Christ, just because she met a radio host or a lawyer, it didn't mean she slept with them; she thought they had been over that. Then again, in the second case…
"I'd say," she retorted instead, wiping her face of sweat to have something to do and avid his gaze.
"Only a year though? Hard to believe…"
However uncomfortable it felt, Vera had an answer prepared for that too. The less you lie, the less likely you are to get caught… It was by sheer ironic luck that Vera had been traumatized by so many ways that any shoe would fit – and that Kuznetsov would believe it despite his suspicious nature.
Vera looked away, feeling lump growing in her throat as she felt herself fall into the pit of despair of her past.
"You know what happened to me – and you don't even know about everything yet. I had to process my emotions somehow," she said simply, but not less pained.
There was beauty in every lie she told him; a lie that was speaking the truth and the truth that was telling a lie. It might have been a twisted painful beauty, the irony of fate. But she supposed that was her life now – and that was the fate of every woman, to be much vulnerable to the world.
A brief wry smile passed her lips when she met Nikolay's calculating and yet curious irises.
"There's this Czech song about a girl that wanders, hurt by people too many times. They sing: You know, girls have it worse. We do. I needed to make sure nothing could touch me. Not even pain."
And with that, as his eyes softened more than she would have expected, she understood that any doubts he had about her were once again gone, or at least asleep for a while. Good. Yet, she had to remain careful under the eye of the Big Brother watching.
Still, even with a feeling of eyes never truly being taken off of her and with walls having ears, with having to watch her mouth… nothing was as creepy as 'socializing' with Kuznetsov alone.
Sometimes, they only talked – thank god, while careful, he wasn't entirely against sharing intel, that secretive smile of his screaming the fact that he knew about her online research done on his property right to her face. He probably found it charming and maybe even cute; she found it egoistic of him, but hey, everyone needed a boost sometimes.
To both Vera's relief and dismay, apart from that and the undeniable truth that Nikolay was a psycho, he still remained a rather… not terrible company. Most of the time.
It was the physical intimacy that Vera struggled with, having underestimated her trauma and the lack of men in her life recently. The fact that she had the first proper contact with a man since before she had found her husband bled out on the kitchen floor with a man she didn't feel attracted to, only following orders, drew a more visceral reaction from her than anticipated.
Nikolay was touchy-feely for certain, though he seemed to always watch carefully for her reaction, truly reading her right as Simmons predicted; yet, there were things he hopefully didn't know or commented on. Perhaps he knew and appreciated her effort despite her troubled mind; blissfully unaware of Vera trying so hard and pushing herself because of the urgency of the issue of a bomb at hand and not because she liked him that much.
After their first kiss, Vera had been sitting heavily on her bed for long moments, her heart pounding in her temples, dumbfounded and horrified at her trembling hands and the taste of bile in her mouth.
She had to give it to him, he kissed surprisingly well and almost thoughtfully, careful with crossing boundaries, soon stopping if he sensed the slightest retreat from her side; which she did often. However, him having limited access to her body didn't mean that she should hold back when it came to him.
Truly, it only was a matter of time before it came and the first handjob happened. And she might have kissed him after he finished before excusing herself to her quarters, leaving him in the living room alone, but the first thing she did upon entering her room was taking quick strides and starting the shower so whoever was listening wouldn't hear her gag on nothing and throw up so hard she couldn't seem to be able to open her mouth and breathe in between the nausea rolling over her in waves.
Her hands couldn't be scrubbed clean enough, the taste of his mouth couldn't but stuck on her tongue and tears wouldn't stop running down her face. Intrusive ringing sounded in her ears and for some inexplicable reason – i.e. because her mind was a fucked-up place – an image of Brian's face flashed in front of her eyes several times, reminding her a of a different time when sexual advances were everything but truly wanted. Except this time she had a hand in it herself, no fucking pun intended.
She lied awake for what felt like days, the room dark, the ceiling screaming with void she felt inside, her thoughts too loud. She ran out of tears long before she fell into a restless sleep, knowing she had less than two full days to get the job done.
And Vera might have explored the mansion through and through, having a good idea of where the servers were, as well as the security centre and the literal death-switch she needed to get Skye to disable, but setting her plan to motion – and really, it wasn't exactly a thought-through plan – was not easy. She had yet to find the right moment and the fact that she was running out of time was not helping to get some quality sleep.
She would have probably lost even more sleep that night had she known that the best opportunity she would probably get would present itself in only few hours.
-.-.-
Vera liked to stay informed about Kuznetsov' whereabouts for obvious reasons, but sometimes it wasn't exactly simple to ask him without being entirely obvious to him. It took her by great surprise when they sat for lunch and he mentioned that they wouldn't have a cup of coffee together today, because he had to meet his partners. The piece of information had Vera's stomach twist and clench in a way that made it impossible to take more than a few bites of her food.
It appeared that Nikolay was truly sorry for missing an opportunity to get dessert with her, no doubt thinking about all different kinds of sweet treats. But damn, he had no idea how sorry he would be.
This was it; perfect and terrifying. She didn't feel ready by any means to do this practically alone, even if virtually she had Skye and the team as her support – in a way, she was the support for Skye, only clearing her path.
Yet, she didn't feel prepared for the showdown. And she sure as hell wasn't ready for the aftermath if all aspects of her plan worked.
The opportunity truly was golden: with the partners approaching, the security detail would be focused on the outside, on the incoming, hopefully losing at least a tiny bit of awareness of the situation within the house, losing caution against a potential attack from the inside.
Fucking yay.
So all Vera did was to smile at Kuznetsov with fake sweetness he felt the need to kiss away as he saw right through her act – and really, that didn't make her feel any better, her gut twisting further, now with the urge to throw up and brush her teeth thoroughly, preferably shower to wash away the sensation of his hands that unmistakably tried and groped her breasts and moved from her ass in hopes to explore the front – and she excused herself, breathless for a variety of reasons.
She made it to the servers in the basement relatively easily, telling the only guard she met that she was in a need for wine – she couldn't believe he bought it. A little fiddle with the camera monitoring the hallway to the server room, a trick she had picked up from Skye, and her path was clear, the image frozen. If the guards in the security room focused on the incoming people indeed, she should be fine.
Key word: should.
She found it suspicious when she didn't have too much trouble breaking through the password protected lock of the server room, dialling Skye's number the moment she got in, anxious that the clock was already ticking.
"Sunny! Hey, babe! You're awake, right?" Vera chipped to the phone sweetly, her eyes flickering around the small room with awfully large amount of cables, controls and potentially correct usb and other kind of slots.
"Uhm… hi, Nica. Yeah, I'm awake. Everything okay?"
Vera swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest, anxiety squeezing her lungs. If someone saw the technically unauthorised entry into this room, the clock was ticking was much faster than she would like… or needed.
She scoffed. "Depends on the perspective, I guess. Nikolay—he's neglecting me. I know he's trying, but really? Some business meeting after lunch before we get dessert. I deserve more attention, okay? I- I'm trying too."
She could hear the change in Skye's tone when she spoke again. "Oh? So you're left all alone, huh?"
"Yep. You know me. Girl's gotta keep busy too. Even if she feels kinda lost. How the hell should I know what's the right thing to do?"
Despite her nerves, she couldn't but appreciate their top tier spies' skills. The talk was ridiculous, but… well. She hoped that they hadn't aroused suspicion just yet with whoever was listening in to all her calls.
"Right," Skye muttered, all business. "Sometimes, we just gotta try and see it if works or if it fails."
Vera froze in her inspection. There were so man options! Why the fuck all the slots looked the same? Where was an IT expert when she needed one?!
On the phone.
Also, another one in Central City.
And in Starling City.
And in Prague, she was sure her brother would love to help her hack a villain's lair.
Shush.
"Sounds dangerous. Don't want to get burned," Vera retorted darkly, but slipped the drive into the first place she saw. "You know. Shooting in the dark usually ends up with someone getting shot."
"Let's hope that's not the case… no, this really isn't it."
Vera cursed under her breath and tried another slot. And another. And one more.
And then she heard a pair of feet rushing down the hall, making her head snap to the door.
"Shit."
"Got it!" Skye called out victoriously, easing the weight on Vera's shoulders for a bit. "Though it might take a while."
That felt like a punch to her gut despite having been expecting it.
"Well, I gotta run. You work wonders, please keep it up and make the while short," Vera quickly hissed to the phone and let it fall to the ground, the concerned "Nica?" only an echo as she braced herself for a fight.
She gulped, hoping that she could last long enough for Skye to decrypt the whatever coding protected the control of the bomb.
If she did really well, she might even see the cavalry arrive… but that really was an ambitious goal-
There was a beep and Vera slid to the left from the door so the guard wouldn't have a clear shot right upon entering the room.
The door flew open, hitting the wall and a raised gun appeared first.
Vera's grabbed the guard's wrists, twisting and swiftly punching the inside of his elbows – the resistance she met wasn't surprising; but the guard definitely was surprised when the shot rang through the small space and his knee got assaulted by her heel rom his side.
He hissed in pain as she managed to knock the gun out of his hand as his leg gave out and the back of Nica's fist hit his nose with a sickening crack.
Despite her pain, she punched him again in the same manner, forced to retreat when his free hand connected with her stomach, the wave of nausea attacking her more than the pain.
She stumbled a step backwards but quickly blocked his next punch aimed at her head, kicking a knee to his crotch. He doubled over, defenceless and giving her a perfect opportunity to knock him out with a front kick to his head.
He fell down like a ton a brick, sending a fleeting thought through her head; yeah, girls have it worse, but fuck, this always works. She thanked heavens he wasn't wearing a cup and hoped the rest of his crew was just as reckless. It didn't hurt to have an unfair advantage.
Sparing a glance further into the hallway, she grimaced, took a deep breath and grabbed him by his feet, pulling him inside. She panted with effort, cursing the habits of rich douchebags who always hired the big guys. Who the heck should manipulate that mass of muscle, let alone after being punched into their guts?
Fighting for breath, she finally fit him into the dim space, gaze zeroing on his belt, making a quick decision of using it to tie his hands. It wasn't ideal, especially because she had to roll him over in the limited space to put his hands behind his back, but she hoped that with her knowledge from summer camps, she could at least tie a knot skilfully enough to prevent him from instantly shutting out Skye the second he woke up and spied the flash drive.
Glancing around to room to pick up his gun, she noticed her phone was still lit up.
"Sk- Sunny?"
"Nica? You okay?" May responded her instead and Vera winced as she heard more men rushing to her location, shouting in a language that sounded dangerously like Russian.
"Okay, but been made. Not sure how long I can hold them off. Please hurry."
Vera honestly didn't know why she said that – it was obvious Skye would try her best. She rolled her eyes at herself when Skye's voice confirmed her thoughts, sounding from a distance.
"I know," Vera sighed. "Sorry, gotta run, good luck."
Turning off her phone and tossing it behind her, because she planned to leave the server room as soon as possible without getting shot, she stood behind the half-open door with a hand on the handle to use it as a weapon, her stolen gun ready as well.
"All in," she reminded herself the mantra she kept repeating since starting this suicide mission, and gritted her teeth. "All fucking in."
She tried not to think about this as about Russian roulette – but no matter the irony, this was exactly what it was.
-.-.-
Frankly, Vera wasn't sure if she even had that much faith in herself. If she had thought she was gonna last that long and make it that far.
Two men later, she was climbing up the stairs; the electric lock to the server room was shot to shreds and disabled in a way that kept the room inaccessible as far as she knew, two guards were lying face down in the basement corridors, her left arm was bleeding due to the deep cut one of her opponents landed on her, her shins and forearms hurt from blocking punches, kicks and from attacking too, but she was still alive and relatively okay…
She stumbled into two more guards when making her way to Kuznetsov's office, feeling bruises already forming on her face too, her lip split. She was sure she was gonna throw up with the amount of punches she received to her stomach, but so far, she hadn't.
She prayed to Lord and all gods she could remember that Skye was at least halfway through – because when she finally reached the office – was thrown in as a guy literally ran into her and used her instead of the doorhandle – she had to knock out another asshole and pry herself from under his unconscious form only to have a pissed Kuznetsov aiming a gun to her face.
Well. Her whole body, technically, because he was standing few feet away, uncomfortably close to his desk – and Vera just knew that it had to be where the death switch was hidden.
How obvious.
How smart.
"Look at you, pretty thing. Looks like red really is your colour. But so is blue," he commented sarcastically, the rage he was feeling seeping into his voice.
Tears of pain and exhaustion gathered in Vera's eyes, but she blinked them away. Wheezing, limping, back hunched as she was trying not to stretch her abdominal muscles, she raised her quivering hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Thanks," Vera uttered, every inhale hurting like a bitch. Yep, definitely a broken rib… or at least cracked.
Perhaps her body was too overwhelmed with all the sensations and confused signals her pain receptors were sending, but she would swear every frantic beat of her heart echoed inside of the bones of ribcage. And in her skull.
And yet despite all that, one of the worst things for her was to hear his honey-sweet voice calling her a pretty thing. Fucker. Such a… man.
Smug, toxic, maniacal man. About to commit a mass murder… Vera hoped not. But with his eyes still on her as he slowly walked backwards, towards his table. She shifted minutely towards the guard she had knocked out, attempting to peripherally locate his gun.
Still in his holster. Fucking fabulous.More work for her. More time for Kuznetsov to shoot her if she sprang after the weapon. Great.
"I really liked you, you know. Believed all the sob stories you fed me…" Kuznetsov sneered and it dawned to Vera – perhaps she could stall a little bit more, if not by fighting, then by talking. "Fucking bravo. Not many can play me."
Yeah, she could definitely buy Skye some more time. Men like Kuznetsov, with an ego the size of Empire State, they just loved bragging, enjoying the theatrics of the moment.
"So I've what I heard. Which is why I wasn't playing."
His eyebrows rose as if in surprise. "Oh really? Let me guess. Now you'll tell me that I was only a mission, but then you fell in love with me along the way and your feelings were real? I don't think so, princess."
Mocking her? Really? Two could play that game.
Provoking a guy who's holding you at gunpoint isn't the smartest idea, Vera thought, but a voice in her head was quick to oppose.
Whatever. Just keep him talking. He's a guy, probably sucks at multitasking. Can't be talking and murdering people at the same time.
Vera chuckled despite herself and proceeded to scoff at the arrogance of his.
"I was being honest with my stories, Nikolay. Sometimes life is that shitty," she added darkly, watching him as he tilted his head and stopped in his tracks for a fraction to glare at her. "As for love… do you even have any clue what love means? What would you do for a those you love, Nikolay? How were you planning on sweeping me off my feet?"
"I was getting there. I treated you right," he argued and she could read it in his face – he had been furious about her lies-not-lies, but now he was getting worked up for a different reason.
Vera would almost feel sorry for playing with his feelings – expect she did everything but that. She had thought that everyone deserved a chance at love; but not him. Not people like him, even if they occasionally tried – all his efforts were nothing but narcistic.
Or at least that was what she wanted to believe.
"Can't deny that you were rather patient. Bonus points for that."
"You had access to anything in this house," he continued and slightly gestured around with the gun in his hand, giving Vera an opportunity to inch closer to the unconscious guard.
"Almost everything." Everything except for the server I needed.
"Bought a necklace for you even. Diamonds would look pretty on your neck..." The safety lock on his gun clicked and Vera's heart cried out with more effort, barely handling the adrenalin. She gulped and tried not to show that a tremble ran down her spine at the familiar click. "So would my fucking handprint, now that I come to think of it."
Please, Skye, tell me that this horror is worth it.
"Charming. Do you really think all women are that materialistic? And into possessive men?"
Kuznetsov clicked his tongue discontentedly; and then his gaze travelled down and up Vera's figure, hungry, as if she flipped a whole different switch. The urge to puke intensified.
"Didn't hear you complaining. A diamond necklace would look good on you… especially if you were wearing nothing else." He smirked, a lustful glint appearing in his eye – only for a moment before fury replaced it again. "God, to think I wanted to rail you… maybe I still will. Would enjoy hearing you scream."
It should have shaken her. But it did. Her fingers twitched and her hands nearly clenched into fists – the muscles and the wound on her arm wept.
"I bet you would. Not much to do with love."
Nikolay scoffed and pointed with his gun for her to step further away from the guard. Vera was torn – maybe if she lunged for the gun, she could still fight and would distract Kuznetsov from the death switch for long enough… or maybe it was better to keep him talking? How would she know?
"Take a step back, sweetheart, I'm not an idiot. And I'm still gonna enjoy hearing you scream when I shoot you," he informed her, as if it wasn't painfully clear what he was about to do. Vera reluctantly took a small step back. She made another when he glared at her, unimpressed. "Wanna tell me what love is about before I empty this magazine into your pretty little head?"
Vera swallowed the wave of nausea and her fear, her brain running a mile an hour. Surely Skye had disarmed the bomb by now, right?
Back-up should have been here by now too though. Why wasn't he here?
The dread filled her veins with ice and she felt her eyes slip shut for a brief second that for an agent could mean the difference between life and death. But was there truly any difference for her anymore?
Had she really been wrong the whole time? Had she only imagined things in her head, wishing for them to be true? Had she really turned that insane? No… that couldn't be. She knew what she saw.
"Love?" Vera ruminated, desperately trying not to think of her words like about ones that would leave her mouth the last.
Maybe they were; but hey. Maybe they would be heard by more people than this maniac – maybe Skye at least hacked cameras and audio here. And at the memory of Skye and her team, Vera couldn't but smile. Even if she had been wrong – she might have contributed to lives saved. That wasn't nothing.
The question was… was Vera stalling her own death or still fighting for the hundreds of thousands?
"Sometimes it's earned… sometimes it's not. Love is about being who you are and being lucky enough to meet someone who appreciates it. Who appreciates what you do…. What do you think, Nikolay? What would a man like you could do to prove himself worthy of a woman like me?"
"You mean a treacherous slut?"
Vera snorted at the joke. It wasn't funny. It wasn't. But maybe it was, just a little.
"If the shoe fits, I suppose. But that's not an answer."
"I'd kill for you," Kuznetsov exclaimed, erasing the last distance, his free hand landing on the desk blindly, lights flickering around it. Vera gulped in fright; game over. Obnoxious red button – because of course it was red – rose above the surface. It was like a bad movie – even Nikolay's smile looked like one of a typical villains'. "In fact, I think I will. This blood I'll spill? It's gonna be on your hands."
Her heart stopped for a moment, the world around standing still; his hand pushed the button.
Perhaps, deep inside, she had expected a big boom nearby.
Because the two, maybe three seconds that felt like eternity ticking by and nothing happening was something that terrified her.
Red glow surrounded the panel that had appeared, a little angry noise cutting the silence in the room shortly—and then Kuznetsov's jaw clicked angrily, his eyes dark as night as they stared at Vera.
Vera laughed. A bone-tired laugh, tears springing from her eyes, but all of her pain flowed away, replace by relief.
She didn't know if that meant Skye disarmed the bomb – but she did. Thanks to the colour draining from Nikolay's face in stark contrast to the shadow falling over it, she was certain.
They won.
She couldn't help the smirk that settled on her lips once her low laughter died down.
"Wrong, Nikolay. It's not about killing." Or maybe it was. Even if Vera had been wrong about him, romantic love wasn't the only kind of love in this world. And Vera realized, that she might kill for her team – but what more, she would be willing to die. "When you love someone, you'd die for them."
Kuznetsov's expression twisted into one of pure rage and all muscles in Vera's body tensed, ready for one more action. His next step was clear as day – she would have to fight for her life. And she wanted to.
"Then I suppose this is only fair."
Vera ducked, leaping for the guard's body, managing to unfasten the strap of his holster – she would swear that she could hear a bullet swishing by her ear. She threw her body to the left to confuse him and to move, hating not having anything to truly hide behind. Before she would lift the guard's body, she'd be dead three times. Moving towards the door was predictable too – but maybe that would have been the smarter decision.
Making a lunge for the gun and managing to unlock it, she felt the sharp pain – sooner than she heard the gunshot. She cried out and clutched her abdomen with her left hand, suddenly not minding the cut on her arm at all when the throbbing agony in her torso took over.
But so did her instinct to survive.
She rolled over on the floor, partially hiding behind the body after all as she lied as well, firing a shot in Kuznetsov's direction.
She was genuinely surprised by the scream when she clearly hit something and his heavy weight dropped behind the desk and out of her view. Almost out of her view.
He might have been a bastard and a villain, but he was not made for action, having his big gorillas doing his dirty work instead.
She fired again despite her vision blurring, aiming at the shoulder peeking from behind the corner of his desk.
He roared, the sound deafening to Vera's ears, echoing in her skull that pounded for some reason. When had she hit her head?
Her arm dropped, gun clanking on the floor as her head started spinning.
But much to her relief, Kuznetsov didn't fire again. Had she killed him?
Heavy steps sounded from the corridor and Vera tiredly tipped her head back, fingers twitching in attempt to grasp her weapon again. Vainly – she saw the shadow appear in the doorway before her fingertips made contact with the metal.
She barely saw the newcomer – but the moment she did, she forgot all about Kuznetsov, her eyes falling shut, relief flooding her whole body. A smile might have graced her lips.
"When you love—you'd do- anything," she whispered, feeling her chest rise and fall without being aware of remembering how to breathe.
She had been right. She-
The thuds of boots passed by her, a sound of a single punch brought to her ears. Funny. It was like music. The dramatic soundtrack to her epic revelation.
Vera forced her eyes open just as the man rushed to her.
The image of his seemed absurd – a man in a torn suit, his head exposed along with his neck and upper arm, but torso, both legs, the others parts as if they not existing.
And he kneeled to her with his lips pressed into a tight line, sharp contrast to the smile she kept on her face through the brutal pain.
Her heart was beating heavily with the effort to keep her conscious, alive even, but at the same time, it sang. She was right. She had never, in million years, thought that she would see him ever again until she did - and now he was here-
-causing her exquisite pain as he pressed against the wound on her side, drawing a hiss from her lips, while a voice she didn't think she'd hear again spilled from his.
"Please, don't do this to me," he pleaded. "Come on, Vera-"
An angel coming for her. A devil on his heels.
The Devil.
"Even come back from death," Vera sobbed as her hand instinctively reached to the one causing her pain – but not to stop him, to feel him. Just to make sure he was truly and undeniably real.
"Yeah, even that, even- but we've done that enough, okay?" Matt choked out, grimace twisting his features, the features she missed so much. The ones she loved and hated at the same time. Whiskey coloured eyes, big cute nose, stubble on his jaw, dark hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. "Don't talk okay? We need to get you out of here."
Don't talk? Really?
Vera might have been on the verge of death, walking a very thin line, but like hell she would stay quiet now when he was here.
"Knew it. Saw you," she hissed as he looked at her sternly, as much as he could ever look at someone, and added more pressure to prove a point. Stubborn asshole; Jessica Jones had been right about that. "Saw you on the footage from Tennessee."
He nodded frantically as if even when exasperated by her disobedience, he couldn't help but humour her. He better. She was on a deathbed just to prove him being alive. The irony.
"Yeah, I was there. We'll talk about it, later. Don't strain yourself-"
Vera snorted and instantly regretted it as fresh pain shot into her belly. "You couldn't cut- the yellow wire."
"Yeah, always had a little problem with that," he confirmed, his head tilting to side to listen to something she couldn't hear. Vera had to swallow the giddy chuckle at seeing the familiar gesture.
Her eyelids slid shut, too heavy to be kept open. It was rather annoying – she could be feasting her eyes on him when having the chance. Instead the blood loss was making it practically impossible to stay awake; and despite her education telling her it was not possible to control that, she would swear she was still conscious just out of spite.
Speaking of blood loss… what was happening? Was Matt about to torture her with applying pressure until she bled out anyway?
"Never bothered me," she muttered, feeling her tongue growing exceptionally heavy as well. "What-"
A shatter of glass announced the arrival of another person – Vera's eyes snapped open… well, her eyelids lifted forcefully and slowly at the sharp sound, but Matt seemed unfazed by the intruder.
However, the intruder was not unfazed by Matt.
"Holy-! Hey!" the man cladded in black—was that tactical gear? And that voice, the vague shape of his face- "Step away from her! Let me see your hands!"
"I do that and she bleeds out!" Matt hissed back and the facts finally registered in Vera's brain.
Matt was calm, because the newcomer wasn't an enemy. In fact, he was a member of her team. Coulson's team.
Of course Coulson wouldn't send her in completely alone, how could she ever believe that?
"…Ward?" Vera murmured.
"Is he a friend?" the agent asked swiftly and Vera's sleepy brain wondered how exactly Matt knew that Ward was a friendly and not someone coming to finish her off.
A loud angry sound rumbled in Matt's chest as if in an answer – clearly, he was too irritated at the question to tell it with words. To be fair, Vera thought it was kinda obvious that Matt was trying to help.
"Y-yeah," she breathed out, Ward's outstretched arms with guns falling to his sides. He was by their pain in four long strides.
"Good. Coulson, we have her—yeah, I can see that now."
Yep, Coulson was… totally… guilty of this.
"Ward… meet- Matt-" Vera tried to say, but even to herself, the words sounded strange.
And then the ringing took her ability to hear anything and she fell into blissful darkness.
-.-.- (meanwhile in the quinjet - bonus) -.-.-
Skye, in fact, had managed to hack the security cameras and bugs in the mansion – and nor she nor the rest of the team were ready to see and hear what unfolded in front of them.
The team – the Fitz-Simmons duo in particular – watched anxiously what was happening and prayed that Ward and the other two agents chosen for the extraction made it in time.
"Perimeter breached," Skye blurted out suddenly, taken aback – mostly by the location. That was not where Ward was supposed to come in. It also looked like the new dot dropped out of the damn sky. "Not Ward's location though."
"Get your eyes on it," May ordered automatically – and no one even bothered to be surprised when Coulson didn't protest a word against her giving orders.
Few swift movements of fingers and they had visual – a very strange and surprisingly positive visual.
"Bloody hell, he's taking them down one after another," Fitz uttered, amazed. "But what exactly is that guy? He's like… half invisible?"
No one replied, all of them too focused on the battle and too baffled.
Until realization dawned to Coulson and he couldn't but sigh. Despite the explanation of who this was not making and damn sense, Nica's behaviour, her eagerness for that mission… that did make sense all of sudden.
"Oh, Vera…"
"Vera?" Simmons parroted, not following.
"…No way."
May was the next who figured out the identity of the mysterious man – because she knew her fighters. She might not be particularly interested in vigilantes, but she knew an exceptional fighter when she saw one – and when the whispers had first appeared that there was one of those in New York… she checked him out. She shot Coulson a genuinely shocked look – and he wordlessly confirmed her suspicion even if she didn't ask a specific question.
They both knew who this was, for different reasons… well, they were about 80% sure. It was hard to believe, but not impossible; after all, they both saw people come back from death, or maybe just one. Hell, Coulson lived it.
"Something about him feels familiar…" Skye muttered under her breath, a new small hologram popping out as she had started searching, her eyes going wide, gaze flickering between the two images. "Is that—is that who I think it is?"
"…yes. Yes, I think it is."
"I thought—I thought that guy was- wasn't he- he disappeared, he-" Skye stumbled over her words upon Coulson's half-hearted affirmation. And then she chuckled. "Oh my god. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen lives."
"Wait. Daredevil?" Fitz realized whom they were talking about at last, earning a funny look from confused Simmons. "Wait, was she- she was Daredevil's girlfriend?"
"That's why she was looking into the register... she was looking for someone else with enhanced senses."
"Wait, she was what? When?" Coulson demanded upon Skye's own revelation and she only smiled at him innocently as if she wasn't the one who granted her access… illegally. "And… it was wife, actually."
"Whoa, what?!"
"She was married?!" Fitz asked at the same time Skye let out that loud exclamation and then another realization hit him. "Oh. Her name is Vera. Why I'm not surprised she had a fake one?"
At that, Coulson smirked. "Technically, since it's Veronica, Nica is perfectly legit."
Silence fell on the cockpit, images soundlessly changing in front of their faces as they all processed the new information. Skye was the first to recover.
"Well, this is a turn I didn't see coming."
"You knew the whole time," May stated the obvious and looked at Coulson, who only shrugged.
"Well, I did recruit her."
"Fitz, are you crying?" Simmons asked out of blue and all eyes fell on his and he just simply pointed at one of the feeds, where a man knelt by Nica's—Vera's body that was barely moving with inhales and exhales and yet there was a smile on her face.
"No… yes. Now you're doing it too, you hypocrite."
"You're crying for the Ice Queen!" Skye called out, delighted at the turn of events – well, some of them. She was so going to interrogate Nica… and make fun to Fitz for eternity.
But they needed to make sure Vera survived first. Where the heck was Ward still-
"Okay, kids. Let's get ready for their return, shall we?" May snapped them all form their peculiar reverie and stalked towards the cockpit while the scientific duo rushed to prepare the medical equipment.
Ward finally appeared on the screen with Nica and Daredevil- it was the moment Coulson finally thought to inform him about the extra player on their side, rewarded by Ward's snarky remark at which Coulson sighed before meeting Skye's eyes.
He must have seen her sudden anxiety about Vera being able to make it, because he smiled at her reassuringly – trying to convince himself as much as her.
"They're gonna bring her here and she's gonna be fine."
"Yeah. She's gonna be fine," Skye muttered and gripped the holographic table as the jet swiftly sped up to help arrive to the meeting point of extraction.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Notes: If anyone wants to listen to the Vera mentioned song (it's folk, oops), it's called 'Ptáčata'. Even if it's rather soft and somehow not explicitly depressing, the chorus is 'You know, girls have it worse.' They mention her beautiful tearful eyes, call her an 'abandoned little bird' and say that she sings about marks people give others in their rage. That's screaming abuse to me.
Anyway. Yep, that just happened. Matt's alive! Yay! I bet the team aren't the only ones with lots of questions…