Summary: Charlotte 'Charlie' Ward loves her job as a homicide investigator. She worked many years towards her job and was honored to be hired in without having to be promoted from officer; her background in the military surely helped bump her up. With almost a perfect record, she works alongside Wanda Maximoff and together they match a perfect team.
As Charlie takes her first vacation since on the job, the woman seemed to catch herself in the middle of a bank robbery; Charlotte was surprised when the criminals seem to recognize her and retreat in fear. Only later does she learn her high school sweetheart runs a global crime syndicate and has her placed on a 'Do Not Harm' list. She decides to pay him a visit after all these years to try and stop the madness, but he has demands.
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It all happened so fast. Sitting on the linoleum floor of the bank, eye contact was out of the question as the hooded masked figures barked orders, assault rifles held tightly in their hands. They were methodical, prompt, poised; pros in every sense. In all the disarray, muffled cries could be heard and whispers among the innocent bank patrons. Crystal blue hues quickly scanned the line of innocents, counting eleven individuals sitting on the floor, holding their heads low as instructed. It figured the one day Charlotte Ward took a day off work to run errands would be the day a bank robbery took place.
"Get down!" One of the robbers yelled, pointing their weapon at the teller after they opened their drawer.
"Hurry up!"
"Two minutes and counting!"
"Almost done!"
"Shut up!" Yelling came from all around as bank patrons begged for their lives, tears streaming from women's faces; men looking for a way out. However, Charlotte sat where she was told, her gaze on the white tiled ground trying hard to mentally escape. There was nothing she could do to alleviate the situation; it was better off leaving the robbers to do their thing and survive than to play hero when she wasn't carrying her government issued firearm.
"Wait a minute…"
"We don't have time!"
"I said wait!" An eerie silence fell over the room; everyone frozen as who appeared to be the leader creeped closer. The blonde kept still, her body tensing as the masked man knelt down in front of her, placing a gloved finger under her chin. It was then when she met his gaze, trying hard to hide the fear. Though he hid behind a ski mask, his wide eyes were noticeable as a look of recognition flashed. "Abort," he commanded, taking a few steps back. The other men began to question him, refusing to stop what they started. "I said MOVE! She's on the list!"
"Who the hell is it?"
"It's Charlie Ward." Her eyes widened from hearing her nickname spill from the masked criminal. Daringly rising to her feet, the woman gripped his arm, stopping him.
"How do you know my name?" she questioned sharply.
He was hesitant in his answer, but he claimed to have known her - causing her body to freeze once more. The voice wasn't familiar, the eyes didn't hold her gaze. And yet, her legs chased after the men, her mind buzzing wildly with questions. None were able to be answered as she pushed open the double doors, stopping as she watched the robbers held at gunpoint as police cruisers surrounded the area.
Charlotte stood by the bank doors, watching as policemen arrested the criminals - the others rushing inside to assess the damage and held the hostages. It was going to be a long day for sure, but first and foremost, she needed to track down a way to speak to the leader of their group.
Walking to get a better view at the now unmasked men, her eyes widened, shocked to see a familiar face after all. Clint Barton was a face she could never forget; his resting bitch face powers were highly mocked during their high school days. More importantly, he was always close with her high school sweetheart.
"How ironic on your first day off on your first ever vacation, and you're in the middle of a bank robbery." Wanda Maximoff stood beside her, a loose hand on the woman's shoulder as her brother, Pietro Maximoff, stood on the other side. The siblings had been part of Charlotte's life since she joined the local police force - Pierto being an officer and Wanda, her partner, as a detective.
"Just shitty luck, I guess," the blonde answered, her blue eyes never once leaving Barton, who returned the gaze from inside a police cruiser. If it hadn't been for her presence in the bank, they would have taken whatever it was they were looking for. This explained the glare Clint sent her way before being whisked away to the precinct.
"Ward!" Immediately Charlotte straightened as Captain Nick Fury's voice boomed louder than anything else. Fury was strict - hard on the detectives and officers he was to watch over. Many feared the Captain; feared of being in his line of fire.
"Shit." Charlotte slowly turned to face him.
"What the hell happened in there?" She tried to answer. "You take off one day - the first in years - and this happens?" Again, Charlotte tried to explain, but he interrupted. "Are you hurt? Are you okay? Did anyone take your statement yet?"
"Sir, if I may…" she began, holding a hand up. "I'm still a bit in shock over what happened; can Wanda take me to the station and I'll give my statement there?" Fury looked her over once, agreeing hesitantly. "Thank you, sir." Nodding over to Wanda, Charlotte beckoned for her to follow.
After getting to the station, Wanda directed Charlotte to an interview room where the blonde described the events from her point of view, leaving out Clint's recognition and his command for the men to leave. Eventually she'd have to speak about it, knowing the hostages would pin their rescue on her. Once Charlotte signed the statement, Wanda offered a comforting smile, staying with her in the room.
"Is there anything I can get for you?" she asked softly. Shaking her head, Charlotte asked for privacy, which Wanda granted.
Silence fell over the room as Charlotte became thankful her back was facing the window. Unlike interrogation rooms, interview rooms didn't have a two-way mirror, but a window where other detectives could watch.
With arms folded across her chest, her mind traveled to places beyond. Memories began to flash of high school moments with Clint. He was a good kid; always had straight A's along with an upstanding reputation in sports. He was on the archery team, bowling team and golf and earned the nickname 'Hawkeye' as he never missed the target. Clint was among the popular crowd and was voted best dressed; why had he turned everything down for a life of crime?
The thought haunted Charlotte and the silence in the room suddenly became deafening. Getting to her feet, she made her way out of the melancholy room, stopping as soon as she noticed Clint being escorted into the next interrogation holding.
Pietro offered her a wink before walking off, leaving Clint alone.
Taking the opportunity, the blonde slipped through the closing door, immediately folding her arms across her chest. "Charlie. Why am I not surprised to see you here?" The question was rhetorically asked as Clint sat back in his seat. Wrists still cuffed and chained to the small bar in the middle of the metal table, he had limited space to move.
"What were you after?" Charlotte asked, bypassing his snide remark.
"What? No 'it's nice to see you again, Clint; you look good'?" Clint flashed his usual smirk - one Charlie was all too familiar with.
"What were you after?" she repeated, hoping he'd cut the crap and answer before someone walked in.
"You look good, by the way. That ass is just …" Charlotte slammed her fist down onto the table, the metallic sounds vibrating in the small room.
"Why did you fall back?" Changing the question was done on purpose; a way to get him comfortable with her enough to reveal all.
Clint sighed before leaning forward in his seat - elbows pressed against the table. "He still cares about you."
"Who?" she asked, not moving.
"You really have to ask?" Clint narrowed his eyes, his head cocking to the side. "Rogers has you on a list." The name escaping his mouth caused Charlotte's back to straighten; brows furrowed together. Steve Rogers had been her childhood sweetheart; a love everyone believed would last forever. Both sets of parents knew each other until Steve's mom and dad tragically passed in a car accident when he was younger. Being the kind of people they were, Charlotte's parents took him in and raised him like their own until the court system found a distant relative. In school, the kids were inseparable. It wasn't until college years, and Charlotte going to the police academy, when Steve ended things abruptly with no explanation.
"What kind of list?" she asked quietly, quickly recomposing herself.
There were rumors - whispers of an illegal business in the heart of Brooklyn run by dangerous criminals; the initials of the 'head honcho' were all that was to be found: S.R.
"A 'do-not-touch' list," Clint confidently answered, wiggling his fingers. "Such a shame too; you got fucking sexy."
"Cut the shit, Barton," Charlotte interrupted with an eye roll.
"Last name basis? Since when…"
"Where is he?" she questioned harshly. "Rogers, what's his location?"
"All in due time, sweetheart." The smirk he wore settled wrong with her. Criminals were smug, but Clint was on a different level - almost as if he knew his confinement was temporary. Before she could interrogate him any farther, the door flew open revealing a pissed off Nick Fury.
"Ward! In my office! Now!"
"I'll see you soon," Clint taunted, wiggling his fingers as a goodbye. Wanda regrettably escorted her partner out of the room, closing the door as Charlotte took her walk of shame into Fury's office. Officers offered pitiful glances; she ignored each one. Something was off about Barton, but she couldn't wrap her head around it. Even as Fury slammed the door behind him and began his scolding, Charlotte's mind played over Clint's facial expressions.
"Why did he keep looking at the window?" The question was meant to be an inner monologue, however, it came out verbally, pissing Fury off even more.
"Are you listening to what the fuck I'm saying?" he yelled.
"With all due respect, sir, but no." Fury scuffed. "Where are the others?"
"Excuse, the fuck out of, me?"
"Where are the other bank robbers?"
"This isn't your case." Fury shook his head, sitting back in his desk chair.
"Sir, this is serious."
"I know it is; anything you said in that room could fuck up our investigation, our trial. What the hell were you thinking?" She couldn't answer as Fury's radio went off. An officer on the other end called for help describing a horrific scene of other boys in blue taken down; officers who were to transport the other bank robbers to the precinct.
Charlotte's eyes widened before throwing open the door, sprinting to the interrogation room; it was too late. An explosion blew open the door, the forces blowing it and the wall, knocking the woman onto the ground. Debris fell from all angles, smoke quickly filling up the main offices and yells erupted from the staff. It all seemed surreal; everything moved in slow motion before blacking out.
Standing outside the hospital room, everything fell silent despite the chaos. Nurses rushed back and forth, patients called for help and doctors focused on tasks at hand. But Charlotte stood frozen with one arm crossed as the other hand covered her mouth. Inside the room laid the same bunch of red hair she saw every morning. Wanda looked almost unrecognizable with cuts, bruises and burns all over her face and body. The blonde was too late in picking up the subtle clues; she was too late to save Wanda.
"I know you're beating yourself up." Fury had been standing next to Charlotte for five minutes; unnoticed. During that time, he watched her, peering down through his lashes, surprised her 'always on point senses' were delayed. "No one knew - no one could have predicted this."
"There were clues," Charlotte fought; unsettled from hearing her voice for the first time in what felt like days.
"You couldn't have known…"
"I should have." Her response was aggressive as she turned her back to the room. Just as Fury was going to give a rebuttal - Pietro rounded the corner. "Pietro!" Walking over to him, he embraced the woman in a tight hug.
"How is she?"
"Not better, not worse."
Pietro nodded and said nothing else as he made his way toward the room. Due to the extent of the bruises and Wanda's low white blood count, Pietro had to dress in protective garments before seeing his sister. As he dressed, Charlotte approached Fury, informing him of her departure. It was time to return to her small apartment and finally sleep after everything she had been through in just twenty-four hours.
"Call me if you need anything." Fury embraced her in a quick hug, giving her the surprise of a lifetime. Fury wasn't one to enact emotion; she had never seen him smile in the years working under him.
Thanking him, Charlotte made her way out of the hospital and drove home. The drive was silent; strange for someone with road rage. But the person going less than the speed limit wasn't being called every name in the book and the one tailgating wasn't tested on how well they could brake.
Upon reaching her apartment, blue hues noticed a long white box sitting in front of the door. For a brief moment she scanned her surroundings to search for the culprit; Charlotte picked it up and entered the apartment realizing no one was around.
Sitting the box on the dining table, calloused fingers untied the beautiful blue ribbon holding it together. Inside the box rested a red rose on bright blue silk linen. Under the rose was a card with typed text; she assumed so a handwriting specialist couldn't identify it. Picking up the card she read the nine familiar words typed on it.
'I'm with you 'til the end of the line.'