Disclaimer: Do not own either Marvel or The 100

Warnings for child abuse, child abandonment, a child having been raped and brutalized and mentions of misogyny, racism and homophobia.

The beginning of revenge

The plan had been cooked up a day after the employers had confronted their lover.

They decided that they would go track down a good licensed therapist, and during this time, they'd keep Clarke distracted with some of their number, sexually giving Clarke what she wanted.

And while that happened, they would try to find a way of convincing Clarke to see a therapist.

Clarke was an adult. They technically couldn't make do anything.

But they had to try to convince her.

They decided that Wanda and Pietro would be the ones to distract Clarke, to fuck her as she pleased, and while they did that, the others would search for a therapist.

The trick would be to convince Clarke to go to therapy.

That would be difficult. Because how were they going to do that?

Clarke barely listened to them.

She'd obey them sexually because she wanted to, but that was all she'd listen to.

Getting her to willingly go to therapy?

That was a complication.

And the two people that would be distracting her, Wanda and Pietro, knew better than to believe that they could convince her.

Which was why Natasha, Pepper, Laura or Clint would be designated to be the ones to do it.

How they were going to do it? That would be complicated. But they'd try.

However, first thing was first.

And that was getting Clarke distracted and the rest of them finding a good therapist for her.

They didn't like that they were quintessentially going to be tricking her. But they knew that this relationship wasn't sustainable, not while Clarke wasn't confronting her many issues. They wanted a life with her, and how would that happen if she didn't address her issues.

So, Wanda and Pietro intended to get Clarke alone for a while, not letting Clarke know what the others were doing and why they wouldn't be present.

That was the plan.

The day after said employers had first concocted this plan and the rest of them had begun searching for a licensed therapist, some searching online, some searching by calling by phone to places where therapy was reasonably affordable.

And Wanda and Pietro would get ready to invite Clarke over to their house.

Clarke in her respective cubicle, was talking on her phone to her adoptive mother.

She said calmly over the phone to Callie Cartwig, the woman that had taken her in, "Mom, everything's fine. Promise. I'm taking care of myself and I'm making good money. Don't make something big out of nothing, alright? It's fine."

"Okay, honey," Callie said, "It's just that I'm worried."

"I know, mom," Clarke said, rolling her eyes, "And again, I'm fine. How are you? How are Wells, Sterling, Monroe and Finn?"

"All five of us are doing well, thank you, Clarke," Callie said and Clarke could hear the gentle smile in Callie's voice.

Eight years after Clarke had been brought to the hospital after what those two men had done to her, Clarke had finally been adopted at the age of sixteen.

It hadn't been easy. Considering her past and how very clearly traumatized she was and not to mention she was distrusting of literally any family that tried to adopt her, assuming they'd either abandon her or beat and violate her, or both, she tended to push away any possible parent that might try to adopt her.

The people at the orphanage had assumed that she would never be adopted, after the fourth family returned her.

Then Callie had come along. Clarke had heard at the orphanage from one of the staff, that Callie had adopted four other kids from another orphanage. Three young boys. And a young girl. Two small white boys name Finn Collins and Sterling Carbone, a small black boy named Wells Jaha and a small white girl named Zoe Monroe.

When Callie came to the orphanage, having apparently come to adopt Clarke specifically, because she had asked if there were any older kids that needed a home, the staff had hesitantly told Callie about the very distrustful and very ornery sixteen-year-old Clarke Griffin, she had looked at where Clarke was and took the sight of Clarke in.

Clarke most likely had looked like very prospective adoptive parent's worst nightmare. Glaring, fuming practically. Full of rage.

She might as well have a sign hanging around her shoulders that said, "I will cause problems for you, first chance I get. And I'll do it because I hate everyone."

Callie, however, had just smiled and told her that she was coming to live with her and her sons and daughter now.

Clarke had glared even harder and spat, "Why, so you can get a fuckbuddy for your sons? Is that why you adopted that girl too?"

This naturally, had caused many of the staff to gasp, horrified and to profusely apologized to Callie.

Callie, whose eyebrows had shot up to her hair after Clarke said that, took a moment to process what Clarke had said, then said quietly, "I see we're going to have to work to trust each other. Alright. This will take some time."

Callie, much to all the staff's further shock, took Clarke with her, even after what Clarke had said.

Now, it hadn't just been Clarke that had raised a few eyebrows.

A lot of the more…how to put it lightly, "conventional" type of staff, had thought it to be "unwise" for a white girl to be adopted by an Asian-American single woman.

In fact, several of these staff members had tried to deter Callie from adopting Clarke. They clearly hadn't phrased it in a way that would sound bigoted, but Callie knew the reason why the staff members were trying to deter her from taking Clarke in.

Callie flat out had said calmly with a chillingly neutral voice to the staff members that had tried to deter her, "Are you saying that a non-white woman who is single, can't take care of or love a child properly? Because I believe that's called 'racism' and 'misogyny.'"

Just the pure chill in Callie's voice when she had said that, made the idiot who had been speaking to her, shut his mouth completely, and his face had grown pale.

It had been legal in the United States for single women, people of color and same-sex couples to adopt children, for years and years now.

But that didn't mean that some…individuals wouldn't try to stop some prospective parents from adopting.

Individuals who were troubled at the thought of children being "corrupted" somehow by the truly horrifying influences of single women, people of color and people in a loving same-sex marriage.

Truly, so horrifying.

Knowing that always made Clarke laugh. Because how could people still be so, so stupid? How could people still be so narrow-minded?

After Callie had said that to the idiot staff member, she had smiled far too widely and had asked in a saccharine sweet tone, if he would be confronting her like this if she'd been a man?

That instantly had gotten the staff member to look away, looking honestly terrified that he might get reported.

So, Callie got to leave with Clarke.

Clarke, who had watched the whole performance between Callie and that idiot staff member, Sinclair, who Callie had chewed out, stared at Callie the whole drive to Callie's home, stunned.

No longer had she been glaring at the woman. After hearing how Callie had chewed out Sinclair, all she did was watch the woman in awe and confusion.

Callie drove up to her house, and brought Clarke inside.

The house itself had looked warm and inviting, but Clarke had seen warm and inviting homes before, and had been thrown out by all of them by that point.

Her biological mother and father's own home had looked warm and inviting, and as soon as her father had died, Clarke's mother had made it fantastically clear how she felt about having Clarke around.

Callie had brought Clarke inside and had called out for Wells, Sterling, Zoe and Finn to come by and meet their new sister.

The four children came running in and Clarke took in the sight of them.

A young, broad-shouldered black boy with short, thick black hair and a sweet face and dark brown eyes.

And a thinner, white boy with almost shoulder length, light brown hair, a mischievous smile on his face, and dark brown eyes.

A curious looking white boy with short light gold hair and dark blue eyes.

And a young white girl with long gold hair and light green eyes.

These apparently, were her new brothers and new sister.

Clarke had had siblings before. Not by blood. But in the other adoptive families she'd been in.

And they had all been awful.

In the second family that had adopted her, there had been this one kid, named Jasper, who constantly told her that he didn't want her there and that the parents would throw her away first chance they got.

The other boy there, John Murphy, had been tolerable, but only because he liked stealing from people and didn't give her the time of day.

The last of the boys there, Nathan Miller, was another story. He had called her ungrateful for not opening up to the parents, even though he and Jasper both told her regularly that no one would ever love her.

And when Clarke finally had snapped and had punched Jasper, then Miller, well, that just had been it.

She'd been sent back in seconds, while Miller had told her that she might as well just kill herself. His exact words, by the way.

There was never a moment during that time, when she hadn't wished death on Jasper and Miller.

Murphy less so, even if he made her nervous.

So, Clarke wasn't sure how to act around Zoe-or as Clarke learned liked to be called, 'Monroe,' which was the other girl's last name, Sterling, Finn and Wells. Not at first, she hadn't.

But as time went on, she realized that all three of her new family members could be trusted.

Callie, Monroe, Wells, Sterling and Finn, had no intention whatsoever of hurting her. Ever.

It took her a long time to realize that.

But she did eventually.

It only took four fucking years till Clarke finally trusted her sister, brothers and mother more than an inch, when she reached the age of twenty.

Now she'd trust them with anything.

Well, almost anything.

What she wasn't going to tell them?

Was that she got railed regularly by her bosses at work. That they had fucked her in probably every way that had been invented.

That she had rape fantasies that she got her employers and fuckbuddies to act out, using her like a toy, sometimes pretending to rape her, which she demanded they do.

Oh, no, she was not going to tell her mom or her brothers and sister that.

She didn't want to risk Callie coming in, ready to try to sue this company into the ground, which she'd never succeed in doing, or risk Finn or Wells or Monroe or Sterling coming in, with their fists swinging.

Sterling, Finn and Wells would never raise their hands to women, so Natasha, Wanda, Hela, Maria, Laura, Pepper, Brunnhilde, Jessica, Carol, wouldn't need to defend themselves.

Not that they would be in any danger. Clarke loved all four Sterling, Monroe, Finn and Wells, but she knew they wouldn't last a second against any of her fuckbuddies in a fight.

Well, not against Natasha, Maria, Brunnhilde, Carol, Jessica or Hela.

They would wipe the floor with her four siblings in seconds.

And while Pietro, Tony and Bruce weren't fighters, Steve, Clint, Rhodey and Thor would wipe the floor in seconds with Sterling, Monroe, Finn and Wells.

Then again, while the non-fighters who were women amongst Clarke's fuckbuddies, Laura, Pepper and Wanda, might not have to worry about Wells or Finn or Sterling coming at them, since Sterling, Wells and Finn would never hit a woman, (though Monroe might), the non-fighters who were men amongst Clarke's fuckbuddies, Tony, Pietro and Bruce, might have to worry.

And Clarke honestly didn't want to deal with trying to push Sterling, Wells, Monroe and Finn away while they were threatening to punch Bruce, Tony or Pietro in the stomach.

And she knew they'd try too.

For almost years now, her siblings had been trying to find those two men that had….that had violated their sister.

They knew that Clarke knew their names and when she had mentioned those names to the police, they still hadn't found these two individuals, or Octavia Blake, Bellamy's sister, supposedly. Or Raven Reyes, Bellamy's girlfriend.

Which meant that the names they had may have been aliases. Or they may have just been so under the radar that no one had any accessible record of them at the moment.

Either way, whatever the reason for the police not tracking down Clarke's assailants, Clarke's siblings would come into the corporation swinging their fists, if they knew what exactly had been going on between the CEOs and Clarke.

She also didn't want to deal with a potential lawsuit from Callie against the company, a lawsuit that most likely would fail, given the strong clout that this company had and given how rich the bosses of the corporation were.

So, Clarke really didn't want to deal with the stress of that, or for Callie to deal with the stress of that.

She figured that it was best that she keep her current…relationship a secret from her adoptive family.

Clarke promised Callie everything was fine again, and asked her to give her love to all four Monroe, Sterling, Finn and Wells. Callie assured her she would. Clarke told Callie she loved her and Callie told Clarke she loved the younger woman and eventually Clarke hung up, sighing and putting the phone away, turning back to her work.

She loved her family. Deeply. But they sometimes could get overbearing. Then again, she supposed it was better than the alternative.

After all, she knew from personal experience, what the alternative was.

And the alternative wasn't pretty.

She just focused on work.

However, when Wanda and Pietro came by her cubicle, she perked her head up, looking at them curiously, a slight smile on her face as the Maximoff twins slid up next to her.

"Clarke," Wanda said gently, "Can you come over to my house after work? Pietro and I want to have some fun with you there."

Clarke's smile widened.

Oh, fuck, yes.

"What do you think my answer's gonna be?" Clarke asked.

Wanda and Pietro both grinned in response.

Clarke's cubicle had its walls obscuring anyone's view of her, so no one saw her and Wanda and Pietro talking.

So, Clarke intended to visit Wanda at her house after work, and Pietro would stop by his sister's place as she did, so the Maximoff twins could have fun with Clarke together.

As this was happening, several of the bosses were looking up various possible and trustworthy therapists online. Some of them were calling different areas.

Laura took an envelope, which contained some letters they'd need to send to some friends of the company, and she left the building, intending to toss the envelope into the mailbox down the street.

She went down the street, reached the mailbox and tossed the envelope in.

As she did, she heard a sharp voice snap from behind her at someone, "Young man, if you don't get off of that swing, right now, you'll be lucky if you're going to get dessert for the next two weeks."

Laura snorted, closing the latch on the mailbox after having dumped in the envelope. Ah, the trails of being a parent.

She turned away from the mailbox, smiling at the scene before her, which was a blond woman who Laura only saw the back of, the woman having her blond hair in a braid, and the woman pulling the small boy along from the swing, who was squirming and glaring at her. The boy probably couldn't be any older than four or maybe five at the oldest.

The man next to the blond woman, broad-shouldered with short curls of rich brown hair and a slight beard, was smiling at both the woman and the boy.

The boy very clearly was the couple's biological child. With short dirty blond hair, and even at this age, Laura could tell that the boy most likely was going to grow up to look like his father.

The woman pulled the boy's arm harder and that was when the brown-haired man spoke up.

"Now, Abby," he said, causing Laura to halt her steps, "Try to be gentle. He's just playing."

Laura narrowed her eyes as he listened to the woman snort, "Markus, you know what he's doing. He's choosing to disobey."

Laura stared at the blond woman, telling herself that she was looking too deeply into this. Because she must be looking too deeply into this.

Abby, while not the most common name, was still a pretty common name.

And just because this woman was named "Abby" and had blond hair like Clarke did, meant nothing.

Besides, what were the chances that Abby, the same disgusting woman that had abandoned Clarke, was here now? So close to where Clarke worked?

Clarke was always tight-lipped about the things that had happened to her.

But one piece of information that Clarke had given? Was that her biological mother, named Abby Griffin, had abandoned her on the road one day, after Clarke's father had died of cancer.

What happened after Abby had abandoned Clarke? None of Clarke's lovers knew. Whenever they asked, Clarke would always tense up, clench up, like she was afraid of them finding something terrible out. Which likely was the case.

However, all Laura and the others knew? Was that if something terrible happened to Clarke? Then it was all because her own biological mother had abandoned her.

That was all Laura and the others knew.

Now, it was unlikely that Abby Griffin might be here, not far from where Clarke worked, but not necessarily impossible.

Abby, according to Clarke, hadn't liked being outside of city limits.

But still? The possibility that within the entirety of the city of Phoenix, Arizona, Abby Griffin would be here?

That was very unlikely.

Phoenix, while not a massive city, still was very reasonably sized. And heavily populated.

Laura eyed the woman and the man and the boy. And as the woman turned, beginning to step off of the sidewalk pulling the boy with her, Laura's eyes widened as she took in the face of the woman.

While not looking identical, far from it, Laura could picture this woman being Clarke's biological mother.

As unlikely as it was that this woman actually was the Abby, Laura couldn't help her shock as she slowly made her way over to the blond woman, the boy and the man. Laura regained some of her senses when she got closer and "accidentally" collided with the woman.

Then stepped away, pretending to be shocked, seeing this "Abby" look at her, startled.

"I'm sorry, so sorry," Laura amended, trying not to shiver at the sight of this woman's face closer, and seeing the woman's brown eyes. If this woman was in fact Clarke's biological mother, then Clarke must have inherited her father's blue eyes.

Laura continued, sounding very apologetic, "I didn't see where I was going." She gestured to the boy in the other woman's grasp, and she shared a knowing grin, "I've been busy trying to get some things for my kids. Because kids, they really put you through the wringer, don't they?"

This "Abby's" expression melted its shock, then turning into a knowing smirk. "Yes. Yes, they do," she said, "It's alright. My son, Tyler, was just being overly clingy with the swings. So, we had a hand in running into you too. Sorry if this is rude, but you have more than one?"

Laura nodded. "Don't worry, it's fine," she said, "And yes. My husband and I wanted to have a lot of children. So," she smiled playfully, "We got started immediately after the wedding. We've got five kids."

"Five?" Abby asked, eyes wide, "Oh, wow."

Laura nodded, glancing at Tyler, before looking back to Abby, watching the woman's face carefully as she asked, "Is your son your only child?"

Laura watched Abby carefully, and watched as Abby's expression shifted.

The blond's face became guarded suddenly and Laura in no way missed how the other woman swallowed, before the blond answered, "Yes. Tyler's my only child. I didn't have any child with my previous husband."

Laura tried not to tense up. A blond woman named Abby. And she was married before. And she got uneasy when Laura had asked if Tyler was her only child.

Slowly, this was beginning to feel like Laura had run into the woman who had abandoned Clarke all those years ago.

Laura forced the smile to remain on her face as she said the next words, which were a complete lie, "I know someone who remarried. She says it was the best decision of her life, after husband died of cancer."

As soon as Laura said that, she was absolutely a thousand percent sure that she was in front of the woman who had abandoned Clarke.

A soon as Laura mentioned the imaginary husband dying of cancer? That was it.

Abby stiffened up. Her eyes became wide.

But not with the emotion that those eyes should have become wide with. There was no sympathy.

Just fear and shock.

Why would Abby look like that?

Abby then swallowed and nodded to her as she said, "That sounds horrible."

"It does," Laura agreed, forcing her smile to turn sad, then looking down at Tyler as she asked, "Thinking of having any other children after this guy?"

An intrusive question, without a doubt, however, since they clearly were on the line of personal questions? Why not?

Abby shook her head, a bit too fervently, from what Laura observed and she said, "No. This is the last kid I think I'm having. Only one."

Laura caught note of how Abby emphasized that phrase, "only one," as if the blonde woman was trying to convince herself, more than anything that she only had given birth to one child, which was the dirty blond-haired boy with her.

"Oh, well, that's nice," Laura said, and looked down at the boy, smiling, unable to help but feel sympathy. If this woman in front of her was who she was strongly beginning to suspect she was? Then this boy deserved so much better for a mother.

And if Laura was right? Well, then Tyler would get a much better mother. Because Laura and the others would…handle Abby.

Laura then looked to Abby and then to Markus as she said, "Well, I hope all three of you have a good day."

"Thank you," Markus said, "And the same to you."

Laura walked past and waved them off and Abby waved back, Tyler looking back at her with distrust, and again Laura got the distinct impression that this must be how a child being raised by Clarke's biological mother must turn out, because how else would one such child turn out, being raised by such a horrid parent?

Laura watched as the three figures went down the road. And after several minutes, Laura slowly trailed after them, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone.

She watched as the three figures went around the block and to Laura's relief, they reached a parked dark blue car.

A car was important. Because public transit would make it difficult to track these three down. But if this car belonged to Abby and Markus? And was registered to them? Then there just might be a way for Laura and the others to track them down.

And make Abby pay.

When all three figures got into the car and they started the car up, Laura kept her distance, making sure she wasn't seen, opened the phone and pressed on her camera icon, then aimed the phone at the license plate of the blue car.

She took two pictures of the car's symbol, a symbol indicating that it was a Hyundai. And she took four pictures of the license plate. Clear photos so that the letters and numbers would all be very visible.

Laura smiled as the car began to peel off from the sidewalk and drive down the road, and she immediately shared the pictures of the license plate and of the car's Hyundai symbol in text with both her husband, Clint, and with Natasha.

Then she added in both the texts to Clint and Natasha, "I think I may have found Abby Griffin."

Laura decided to quickly make her way over to the building where she and the others worked. She had a feeling that Natasha and Clint would be demanding an explanation soon.

When she reached the office, she saw Clarke, Wanda and Pietro going into the elevator together, and watched as the doors closed shut.

Good, Clarke would be with Wanda and Pietro during this period. That was good. Because Laura sure as hell didn't want to risk Clarke hearing what she had just discovered.

Laura hurried down the hall, reaching the main office and went in, seeing Clint and Natasha turning to her and getting up from where they had previously been seated.

Laura noticed that both Clint and Natasha held their phones in their hands and had been looking at a photo, but Laura couldn't see the pictures clearly. However, she had a guess what the pictures were of.

"Laura," Clint said, looking confused, "What the hell is going on? You said you found Abby?"

Laura nodded as she got closer to her husband and Natasha. "That's right," she said, as Natasha stood up and got closer to Laura, "I saw a small family near the mailbox when I was dropping off the letters. And there was a man and woman and their son. The son's name is Tyler. And I heard the man speak to the woman. Her name is Abby. She's blonde. And I got curious at that," Laura took a breath, wondering if she sounded somewhat unstable by jumping to the conclusions that she had jumped to only a few minutes ago, "So, I started speaking to her. And when I asked how many children she had? She got nervous. Like she didn't want me to know something. And then she said that she wasn't always married to the man she was with. She was married before to another man. And when I mentioned that I had an imaginary friend whose husband died of cancer, she looked scared."

Natasha turned to Clint, both of them appearing troubled at this.

Natasha waved her phone slightly as she said, "Laura, if you're wrong, we could be targeting an innocent woman."

Laura nodded. "I know, I know," she said quietly, but then added, "Nat, I saw the look on the face of Abby's son. Tyler. That was a look of a child who would do anything not to have a parent like Abby. That wasn't just a child throwing a fit." And it hadn't been. Laura had seen her children's angry expressions enough times to know.

Laura had seen the faces of her three daughters and her two sons for years, during so many moods.

When they were angry, when they were defiant, when they were rageful. Even when they were borderline hateful.

And children, they could get hateful, when they got angry enough and didn't know how to handle their big emotions inside their small bodies and didn't yet know how to articulate what they felt.

And the expression on young Tyler's face when he had stared at Abby? That hadn't just been a child's intense emotions.

That had been a child desperate for someone to not hurt him, emotionally, mentally.

That child, Laura was certain, was abused. If not physically? Then mentally, certainly.

"I just can feel it," Laura said, shaking her head.

"Alright," Natasha said, glancing down at the phone, her green eyes narrowed. "We should look into it." She added smiling and nodding to Laura, "For Clarke."

Laura smiled in appreciation at the redhead.

If there was one person besides her husband that Laura trusted, especially with her children and with Clarke, it was Natasha.

Only after Clint, Laura trusted Natasha, more than anyone.

And she knew just like herself and Clint, Natasha would do anything to protect and avenge Clarke.

Natasha's eyes became harsher as she said, voice thick with just barely contained anger, "If this is the same woman that abandoned our Clarke, and left her to whatever hell she went through, then we'll make this woman pay. But we have to make sure it's actually her first."

Laura nodded again, smiling in appreciation at Natasha's promise.

The three of them made their way down the hall.

There was someone they'd need to talk to first, in order to make sure whether or not this woman, Abby, was in fact Abby Griffin, the woman who had abandoned Clarke.

They would need to track down who specifically owned the car that the license plate that Laura took a photo of, belonged to. And who the person was, before she had married that brown-haired man and become the mother of Tyler.

They would need to speak to Jessica. Jessica Jones, their fellow CEO and another one of Clarke's lovers, who had in a previous life, been a private eye.