I'm really sorry this is a couple of days late you guys, I've just had the busiest part of my course and literally did not have a spare hour to edit and post. But that's over now and I should have plenty more time to write! Thank you to those of you who were patient and understanding in your PMs :)
2013
Tony and Pepper moved to New York, but Tony had stepped back from being Iron Man. He still went on missions from time to time, but he'd found something resembling balance: Iron Man was just a job, but he had a life outside of it. Sometimes Maggie would look up from her tinkering in her workshop, her mouth open to ask him a question - only to find that it was well past midnight, and Tony had gone to bed. A strange feeling.
Maggie knew that balance wasn't for her. Her hunt had lasted for years now, but instead of slowing down she only found herself speeding up: searching for more leads, tracking down more vague mentions of the Soldier, laying more traps.
She did not involve SHIELD in her search. She'd done some covert looking, when she first joined, but as far as she could tell the Winter Soldier was nothing but a fairy tale to them.
Which was why she surprised herself when she asked Natasha about it. They'd just finished a mission in Milan, and found a Chinese restaurant to have dinner at afterward - because though Natasha didn't date coworkers, it turned out she had an opening for a friend. Nat was describing the old Soviet enemies she used to go after when she was in the Red Room. And Maggie, without really thinking about it, asked:
"What about the Winter Soldier?"
Natasha, as ever, did not do anything so obvious as freeze up or widen her eyes. She merely looked back at Maggie. "Who?"
Maggie shrugged one shoulder. "Heard a story about this crazy Russian assassin guy at SHIELD. Thought it might be something you've come across." Her skin itched under Natasha's cool gaze. "Though they were kind of talking about it like people talk about Bigfoot, so, y'know…"
Natasha popped a dumpling into her mouth and contemplated Maggie. "It's not like there's a secret Russian assassin club."
Now it was Maggie's turn to contemplate Natasha. She'd asked her question twice now, and Natasha was… hedging. She did it naturally, but after years of hunting through shadows Maggie knew the feel of a lead. She did not react. "But you've heard of him, at least?"
The air between them had shifted slightly. They'd been casual before, sleepy after the mission and contented with their food. But now awareness and sharp-edged attention prickled in the air.
Natasha waved a chopstick. "Like everyone who's been in this line of work long enough, yeah. You hear the stories."
Now Maggie was sure she was keeping something back. She sipped her drink. "Sorry, I guess you wouldn't really want to talk about this stuff. It's just at SHIELD… sometimes I don't know what to believe." She dug into her meal, not looking up at Nat. Her heart pounded but she ignored it. She wasn't dumb enough to think she could manipulate the Black Widow, but just maybe…
Natasha let out a breath. "Well." Maggie looked up to see the redhead contemplating her meal. "Some people are more convinced than others. I…"
"What?" she prompted, unable to conceal her eagerness. She hoped it just sounded like curiosity.
Natasha sighed and leaned back. "I was injured on a mission once. It was high-stakes, high-risk, but I thought I'd covered my bases. I was getting a nuclear engineer out of Iran back in 2009, but we were ambushed-"
"Wait, wait, I know this one," Maggie cut in, her eyes darting. "Odessa, right? It was an assassination. That was you?" It had come up when she renewed her hunt after Tony came back from Afghanistan. She'd looked into it months too late, but it was on her list of maybe Winter Soldier missions.
Natasha cocked an eyebrow. "How do you know about that?"
She shrugged. "I was a freelance spy at the time. I heard things. Though it was hard to get details - I assume because of SHIELD."
Natasha held her gaze, hard, for a moment. Then she appeared to soften. "Well, yes. My engineer was killed with a single shot. A shot that went through me." She tapped her stomach, just over her hip. Maggie winced in sympathy.
"And what, you think it was the Winter Soldier?" she said, being very careful to inject a heavy amount of doubt into her voice.
Nat's face shadowed. "I couldn't be sure. But there are certain… signs, I suppose. Signs of a certain very skilled assassin, if not the Winter Soldier."
Maggie knew the signs like the back of her hand. Russian bullets, no rifling. Impossible shots from far away. Not a breath of a clue at who had been there, or why. And sometimes… a flash of a metal arm. She wondered which of these Natasha had seen, which of these SHIELD had covered up. But she pushed down the curiosity. "Didn't you go after him?"
Natasha's mouth twisted. "Once I'd stopped bleeding out, yes. But…" her expression rearranged into something calm, collected, and she looked frankly back at Maggie. "I couldn't find him."
Maggie's skin prickled. If the Black Widow couldn't find him, after he'd just shot her and cost her a mission… She shook her head slowly. How can I ever expect to find him? She pushed down the disappointment and eerie fear and shot Nat a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry." If I had found him earlier, he would never have had the chance to hurt my friend.
Nat tipped one shoulder. "Why the interest?"
She speared a dumpling. "Like I said, trying to sort the fact from the fiction I guess." She raised her eyebrows. "Figure I'll keep my distance from this… Winter Soldier guy." She wiggled her fingers as if she were telling a ghost story.
She knew it hadn't entirely fooled Natasha. The other woman's green eyes remained fixed on her for a second too long, all calculation and suspicion completely hidden by the calm facade. But Nat didn't push any further, and Maggie turned the topic back to safer waters.
Maggie and Bruce became good neighbours - he was quieter in his laboratory than Tony was in his, but was always ready to greet her with a tired smile and a cup of tea when she came to see what he was up to. He tried to teach her how to meditate, but Maggie couldn't stand it - the sitting still, trying to let go of her thoughts. She needed her thoughts. They kept her focused. The most stillness she got was when she staked out her targets, and that was a very different kind of stillness from meditation.
She and Natasha mostly saw each other on missions, or on the occasional training session with Clint. Clint hadn't gone full time back to SHIELD, but he was always up for a bar crawl or an impromptu shooting session. Maggie got the sense he didn't get many chances to do that when he went back to wherever he lived. If he really lived anywhere.
She and Steve caught up regularly. He was slowly gaining more friends in D.C., and at SHIELD, but he struggled to bring down that wall of military professionalism at times. Something about the Battle of New York, or her sheer lack of professionalism, made it easier for him to let down his guard with Maggie. They went to museums and movies and other 21st century experiences. Maggie tried to get him drunk once, and it was a disaster. He got only slightly buzzed, and then seemed a little frightened when she started jotting down equations and diagrams on a napkin, trying to figure out how she could slow his metabolism enough to get him drunk.
Steve only occasionally talked about the past. He was more willing to talk about Peggy, since he saw her about once every two weeks, and each visit seemed to inspire new stories. He only spoke about Howard when Maggie asked about him. And when he was enjoying himself, that always seemed to remind him of stories about Bucky. Most of his stories of his life before the ice included Bucky. Maggie's heart ached for the lost friend.
When Steve finished a story about Bucky's attempts to get them both in to a cinema see King Kong (first through charm, then through sneaking in), Maggie laughed.
"Seems like a guy who knew how to have a good time," she mused. It was hard to imagine Steve, young and skinny in Brooklyn, but when he told the stories about him and Bucky it became a little clearer.
Steve laughed sadly. "Yeah. I… wasn't."
"Aw, you just need someone to remind you how." Maggie knew she would never take the place of his old friend, but it was clear that Steve needed someone… a little less serious than him, to take the edge off. She resolved to get Steve out of his tidy little D.C. flat more often.
A week later, Maggie and Nat bumped into each other at the Triskelion. They absconded to an office balcony so they could have a cup of coffee without being interrupted or eavesdropped on. Because it was a building full of spies.
"This conversation isn't going to pass the Bechdel test," Maggie warned, "but we need to set Steve up."
Nat cocked her head, and her new hairdo - shoulder length and pin-straight - brushed her shoulder. "Why not you?"
Maggie eyed her flatly. "Not that he isn't gorgeous, but I already know I'm too much for Steve Rogers. It would be a tragedy."
Natasha smiled and sipped her coffee. "I know. You're a good fit as friends. I just wanted to see what you'd say."
She rolled her eyes. "Not everything has to be a test, you know." She considered saying what about you and Steve? But she already knew that would be a tragedy as well, and she didn't want to find out what Nat would do to her if she brought it up.
Nat shrugged. "Leave it with me. There's plenty of single women in this building who would probably sell state secrets to go on a date with Steve. I'll set something up."
"Be gentle."
October 2013
Maggie got to experience the full force of Natasha's matchmaking skills on her next mission with Natasha and Steve. They'd been called in to neutralize a factory complex that SHIELD suspected was manufacturing an illegal product of some kind (Maggie had bet Nat ten bucks it was guns).
On the Quinjet ride to the factory complex in Alaska, Natasha leaned against the back of the copilot's chair and chatted to their pilot, an auburn-haired woman with a straight spine and a steady nature. Natasha started drawing Steve into the conversation with comments like Oh, you saw House of Cards? I think Steve watched that too, what did you think of it Steve? and I think it's great you're in a music appreciation club. I'm always telling Steve he needs more hobbies outside the job.
It was ridiculous, and painfully obvious, and Maggie could not believe her eyes. She watched as Steve (in increasing discomfort) awkwardly chatted with the pilot, looking impossibly young even though he wore his new SHIELD stealth suit: a slate navy uniform with a silver star on the chest, and his shield strapped to his back. Maggie laughed behind her hand, and when Steve returned to his seat across from her, she couldn't help herself:
"Steve, what's your friend's name?"
He shot her a very un-Captain-America glare. "Lara."
Lara waved a hand from the pilot's seat.
"Nice to meet you!" Maggie called. "You know, we might be going to the local dive bar back in D.C. after this mission if you want to join? No one can match Steve drink for drink, but he's great at trivia."
Steve's teeth ground together.
"... I'd like that," came Lara's response a few seconds later. "But uh, we're about fifteen minutes out from the drop zone now, you three had better prep."
Maggie got to her feet, checking her wingpack and her goggles. Steve met her by the end of the Quinjet, since the plan was for her to fly him down to the ground, then return for Nat. The engine's vibrations hummed beneath their feet
"I know what you're doing," he muttered under his breath.
"She's pretty," Maggie commented.
"You've only seen the back of her helmet, you can't even tell."
"I can always tell."
Natasha appeared on Steve's other side. "She likes pale ales. And she won't let you pay for her drink. But she will let you walk her home."
"How can you know that," Steve sighed.
"I know everything."
The Quinjet ramp began whirring down, and Steve touched his earpiece. "Comm check, line 3 secure."
"Line 3 secure," Maggie echoed, closely followed by Nat. Bitterly cold wind rushed into the back of the jet. She turned to Steve. "How would you like your lift, Captain? Frontsies, backsies, or 'held like a heavy shopping bag'?"
Steve cast his eyes heavenward. "Shopping bag. It'll keep my arms and the shield free."
"Smart man." Maggie seized the back of his suit collar and dug her claws in - it was a reinforced suit, she wouldn't damage it - and then the two of them stepped off the end of the ramp together and into the swirling, snowy air.
But then it all went to shit. Technically the mission was going as clockwork, and no one was hurt, but Maggie was reminded of how terrible humanity could be when it wasn't drugs or guns that they found in the Alaskan factory.
It was children. The youngest couldn't have been older than five, with unfocused dark eyes and hollows in his cheeks. And they were being kept in cages. Maggie's stomach turned and her fists clenched when she first saw them, and she became unable to speak, aside from a hard, cold mission update for the SHIELD techs back in D.C.
They got to work. The traffickers were well prepared for a fight, but not for a fight with three Avengers. Steve, Nat, and Maggie tore through them, rooting them out in all the warren-like corridors and basement levels, disarming and dismantling and disabling. In a room of empty cages, Maggie engaged with a pack of them: one had a flamethrower and it spewed flames everywhere, scorching the air and ramping up the temperature of the concrete room. There wasn't much to catch alight, save for a pile of old sheets in the corner.
With sweat rolling down her skin, Maggie fired three energy blasts. Two of the men went down, and then another followed when she smashed his kneecap with her heelspur. The flamethrower guy dropped the weapon and then whirled into something that looked like Krav Maga. He had dark hair and sharp eyes.
Flames flickered at the corner of Maggie's vision from the burning pile of sheets. Tightly-leashed rage thudded in her chest, her heart pounded, and her blood sang. She couldn't stop picturing the young boy's unfocused eyes.
The flamethrower guy got in a lucky kick against her prosthetic leg, and Maggie's feet slipped out from under her. She fell, rolling to absorb the impact. Then the guy grabbed her by her upper arm, fingers digging in through her uniform, and dragged her.
And Maggie felt a spark catch. The flames, the heat, stinging pain, the feeling of an unyielding grip on her arm-
The Wyvern launched upward, twisting violently out of the man's grip and sweeping his feet out from under him. He fell and the she slammed down on top of him, making his head crack against the concrete and his breath leave his chest. She sank her armored fist into his face.
She could barely see through the red haze across her vision. Pure rage lit her up white-hot as she rained down heavy blows on the man. Her wings were flared, glinting with firelight, and the red glow of her goggles illuminated the terrified look on his face. She struck. His head snapped back and she heard him groan; a bloody, bubbling thing. She bared her teeth.
She raised her fist once more and something seized her wrist.
She jerked around, ready to snap and rage - but it was Natasha. Her grip was firm on Maggie's wrist, and her green eyes were cool and calm.
"You got him," she said evenly.
And somehow that cut through the fury in Maggie's chest. She shoved off the man, pushed herself to her feet and looked down at him. He didn't appear to be conscious anymore. Both his eyes were swelling up and she'd opened up splits in the skin across his face, blood smudged and smashed over his features.
He deserved it. Maggie realized her chest was heaving as she stood over the man, her clawed gloves dripping blood. She heard roaring and realised it was her own heartbeat in her ears. She couldn't slow her breathing. He deserved it. She only regretted the time she'd lost in beating him up.
"Let's get the kids out of here," she said shortly. Nat nodded once, and they turned to leave.
They'd secured the factory. The children were freed from their cages, and evac teams swarmed on the area to triage them and get them to safety. The boy with the unfocused eyes had been crying when Maggie last saw him.
Maggie, Natasha, and Steve ended up on a different Quinjet on the way back to D.C. a few hours later. Maggie sat in the furthest seat from the cockpit, and did not remove her goggles. Steve was busy debriefing and liaising with SHIELD headquarters over the comms.
Natasha drifted back to where Maggie sat, and looked down. She took in Maggie's still form, encased in armor. "Emotion is not a fault," she said. "But only if you control it when it must be controlled."
Maggie wanted to glare, to snap back, but she just nodded shortly. "I'm good."
"I know." Nat walked back to Steve.
Maggie looked down at her gloves. The blood had dried on them, occasionally crumbling off in rust-brown flakes. Her heart had not stopped racing since the fight, as if she were teetering on the end of a high diving board, about to jump. Because the anger she'd felt today wasn't new.
It was old, as old as her lost leg and the faint scar in her eyebrow. That rage had not been for the man she'd just beaten - not entirely.
She took long, deep breaths. I cannot let this rule me. Not on missions.
But the anger still pounded and pulsed, just beneath her skin.
You are my mission.
December 14, 2013
London
Darcy Lewis paced around Jane's flat in the early hours of the morning, frantically calling everyone she could think of. Her intern, Ian Boothby, watched the news while keeping one eye on her. He seemed remarkably calm about the whole thing. She didn't know if that was a good sign.
She threw up her hands. "Jane isn't calling me back, Erik isn't calling me back, stupid SHIELD isn't calling me back-"
"What's SHIELD?" Ian asked.
"It's a secret," she snapped. "Oh hold on, I know who I can call." She dropped down on the couch beside Ian and scrolled through her contacts.
"Who are you calling now?" he asked, leaning over to look at her screen as she hit the call button on speakerphone. "Booty Call?" He read out.
She waved a hand. "She put her name in as that."
The phone rang out, until there was a click and an automated voice with a British accent said: "Hello, this is Ms Stark's number. Unfortunately Ms Stark is on a mission at present, but as you are on her list of approved contacts-"
"Aw," Darcy said.
"- you may leave a message to be passed on after the beep."
There was a long beep.
"Of course you get your creepy AI to act as your answering machine," Darcy said by way of a hello, pushing her hair back from her face in frustration. "Listen, long story short: Thor came back, took Jane, and there's a bunch of weird space stuff happening that I really think the Avengers or SHIELD or someone should get involved with. That's it. Call me back!"
She hung up and let out a long sigh.
Ian the Intern stared at her. "Stark? Was that…?"
"Yep."
His eyes widened. "And you…?"
Darcy smirked. "Yep."
December 15, 2013
Greenwich
Maggie landed on the lawns outside the Old Royal Naval College in Greenwich, her wings glinting in the sun as she stared at the battleground before her.
She'd flown straight here after getting Darcy's message at the end of her mission in Belarus, and yet it appeared she had been too late. She'd seen the massive, angular black spaceship in the sky over Greenwich as she approached, only a second before it just… blinked out of existence, with nothing but a slight shimmer in the air to hint that it had been there in the first place.
And now that she'd landed, she could hear no signs of fighting. Wreckage was strewn everywhere: The historic building was pockmarked and broken, with black scorch marks and half its marble columns shattered. Sleek black wreckage lay around the place - debris from the spaceship, she supposed. There were sirens in the distance, rapidly growing louder.
"Hm." Maggie toed a fragment of black metal, eyeing the design, then paced along the length of the college lawns, peering around at the building. The air smelled like smoke and ozone. Her boots crunched on rubble. She rounded the corner of a half-crumbled wing of the college, and a shout drew her attention.
"Maggie!"
She glanced to her left and saw Jane, kneeling on the ground beside a massive black scorch mark on the ground, waving frantically. Maggie looked closer and realized that Jane was kneeling over none other than Thor, with his long blonde hair glinting in the sunlight and his red cape trapped under him. Mjolnir lay on the ground a few feet away. Behind Jane and Thor, over by the broken marble columns, stood three figures: Erik Selvig, Darcy, and some skinny brown haired guy. Darcy had her arms thrown around the guy's neck as they kissed enthusiastically.
Maggie retracted her wings and jogged over, skirting the blackened crater in the ground. "Uh… hi guys." She looked around. The sirens were quite loud now. "What the hell happened here?"
Jane laughed. She had one hand resting on Thor's chest. Thor's eyes were open, though he still lay flat on his back. "You're a little late," Jane smiled. She looked up at the sky. "We stopped it."
Maggie followed her gaze. "Oh. Good." She nodded to Selvig, who inclined his head in return. He held some kind of device with an antenna. Then Maggie cocked her head at Darcy, who was still liplocked with the skinny brown haired man. "Hi, Darcy."
Darcy broke away, wide-eyed and with her hands clenched in the guy's shirt, and exclaimed: "Maggie! Hi!" Her hat was askew.
"Sorry I missed your call," Maggie smiled. She cocked an eyebrow at the man, but said nothing. She took a few more strides over to where Thor lay on the ground. His hair was strewn around his head, and his eyes fixed on the sky. He looked just as he had when he'd left New York last year. Aside from a few cuts on his face, he looked alright. Though Maggie knew from experience how hard it was to make an Asgardian bleed.
"Hi, Thor," Maggie said, once she'd stuck her head into his line of sight. "Darcy said you'd come back. Good to see you."
"Lady Wyvern," he said as his eyes focused on her. He curled one hand up to cup Jane's elbow as she knelt over him. "It is a pleasure to meet you again."
She cocked her head. "You need a medic?"
He shook his head, wincing.
"How about a hand up?"
He shook his head again. "I need a moment."
"So what happened here?" she asked, looking around. She kicked a hunk of metal and it made a strangely resonant noise. "What is this stuff?"
Jane, Thor, Darcy, and Selvig began to explain, as emergency services surrounded the college.
"Hang on, aliens?" Maggie interrupted partway through. "I thought we fixed the alien problem?"
"These were… different aliens," Jane murmured.
Maggie rubbed her forehead. "And what was that about portals? I've had enough with portals, I don't want to be messing with any more portals."
Selvig shook his head. 'Well we don't need ot make any more, and now that the Convergence-"
"Selvig, you were making them?"
But they got through their explanations, and by the time the police showed up, uncertain of whether to start making arrests, Thor was well enough to get to his feet.
"We can head back to my mom's place," Jane decided. "Maggie, you coming?"
Maggie took a breath. She'd flown here in full expectation of finding trouble, but now… she shrugged. "I may as well stick around to help clean up."
Maggie got a brief account of all that had happened when they all returned to Jane's flat, before Thor returned to Asgard to report back to his father. And it was certainly a wild tale. The knowledge that there were yet more hostile aliens out there made her gut churn in unease. Tony had been talking about that a lot of late, saying that they needed a robust defence system. Maybe he was right.
She put her hand on Thor's shoulder as he described how his mother had been killed, hoping to impart some sense of understanding, or comfort. The grateful look he shot her told her that maybe it had worked. She'd only known Thor for a couple of days in total, really, but she still felt that bond with him - the bond they had formed in New York.
When he told them about Loki's death Maggie was instantly relieved, but she could see Thor's grief so she schooled her expression. "I… I'm sorry for your loss."
He bowed his head, unfooled by her politeness.
When the tale was over, Thor let out a long sigh.
"So are you… are you staying?" Jane asked, tentative. She and Thor had gravitated in each other's orbits ever since the battle, like a constellation of their very own. Jane brought out something quiet and thoughtful in Thor, and he brought out something wild and burning in Jane. Maggie was quite enjoying being in their company.
Thor sighed again. "I must return to Asgard to speak with my father. But Jane…" he turned to her, grasping her hands in his, and met her eyes with an almost painful sincerity. "I will return to you."
Jane bit her lip. She didn't say it, but Maggie could read her thoughts plain as day: I've heard that before.
Before Thor left, he said his goodbyes. He and Maggie gripped each other in a tight, brief hug before letting go.
"You've always got a place to stay in New York," she told him. "And… Earth would be lucky to have you." She patted Thor's shoulder and jerked her head at Jane. "And so would she."
His eyes glinted. "I am the lucky one."
Moments later, Maggie watched with wide eyes as a beam of burning rainbow light plunged out of the sky to absorb Thor and his raised hammer, before snatching him up and out of sight. When the light stopped burning behind her retinas, Maggie realized a strange runic scorch mark had been left behind on Jane's mom's balcony.
"Yeah," Selvig muttered. "It does that."
"I have so many questions."
Maggie kept herself busy with the cleanup at Greenwich. SHIELD finally got involved, taking charge of the scene and cataloguing and removing all the alien technology. Maggie liaised with them, and kept SHIELD from abducting Jane, Darcy, and Selvig for interrogations.
The cleanup and analysis of the battleground would take a few weeks. And Maggie had had some British leads in her Winter Soldier hunt that she hadn't been able to follow up yet. Staying for the cleanup would be the perfect excuse to stay and do some digging.
Darcy was kept busy ravishing the young man she'd been kissing - her intern, apparently, called Ian Boothby. She and Maggie had only a brief moment of awkwardness, stuck together in Jane's mom's flat, before Maggie grinned at Darcy and said: "Good catch."
Darcy beamed, squeezed Maggie in a hug, and then dragged Ian Boothby to the spare room.
(Later, Maggie caught him fetching a drink from the kitchen and told him that if he ever mistreated Darcy she would figure out that portal technology and drop him in Muspelheim. He got the message.)
A day after the battle, Thor returned to Jane's balcony in another surge of thunder rainbow light. Maggie watched from the kitchen window as Jane ran out to be swept up in a kiss.
She folded her arms. "Disgusting," she said fondly.
"I guess he's here to stay, then," Darcy commented. She turned to Ian. "Would you give up being king of an alien kingdom for me?"
"Sure," he nodded, with a brief glance at Maggie.
January 6, 2014
The Triskelion, Washington D.C.
"Major Russo, come on in. Close the door."
Alexander Pierce smiled from his desk as the tall, silver-haired SHIELD Executive Officer entered the office. It was a bright day, for January, and sunlight streamed into the clean, executive space of his office. Pierce wore a finely tailored grey suit, with his reading glasses tucked into the breast pocket. His eyes weren't so great these days.
Russo nodded then strode over to stand before his desk, beside the two other Executive Officers who had already arrived. They stood with their hands behind their backs and their shoulders straight. Perfect soldiers.
Pierce got to his feet and appraised them. "I'm proud of you, men. I chose you for this mission because I needed my most trusted generals in the positions of greatest power on the crucial day, and I know I was right to put my faith in you." He saw their chins lift with pride. And they should well be proud - these three men had been inducted into HYDRA early on in their careers - Russo had been recruited out of high school, and had joined SHIELD a few years later. They'd dedicated their lives to the mission.
Each general ran his own head of HYDRA now, in different areas of the world, commanding dozens (sometimes hundreds) of men, securing HYDRA's vision. He was proud of these men. And so he had chosen them to command each of the INSIGHT helicarriers when they launched. One head of HYDRA for each ship.
"Has there been any change, sir?" Russo asked, his pale eyes steady.
"None," Pierce replied with a tip of his chin. "I've completed another risk assessment as we're less than a week away. All linchpins within SHIELD remain convinced that INSIGHT is for their own purposes, and as you'll have seen around the site, work is on schedule. Fury does not suspect - in fact, he remains INSIGHT's biggest proponent. So we're a go on that front. We've already been able to make a start on reshuffling assets; the Asgardian sceptre's been removed for experimentation by List and Strucker already."
"And the Avengers?" asked Wilmslow, a shorter man with slick dark hair. Pierce had recruited him at the SHIELD Academy.
Pierce crossed his arms. "Unsurprisingly, Zola's targeting algorithm has identified each of them as threats to HYDRA's vision. So they'll all be eliminated when the INSIGHT Helicarriers go live. Poetic, isn't it? When Stark helped to design the turbines."
"But you're keeping some of them awfully close to this project," cut in Russo. "Romanoff and Rogers, for example. And the younger Stark-"
"That's the point," Pierce said with a wave of his hand. "Rogers doesn't have the clearance level for INSIGHT, but even if he did, he'd march along like the good little soldier he is. Romanoff is with Fury, and he's been pushing INSIGHT through since the beginning. The younger Stark doesn't have the clearance either, and she's not even in the country. She's still in England, playing scientist."
"We've had our differences of opinion about her before," Russo said carefully.
Pierce nodded, unsurprised by Russo's reticence. "Ancient history. She was a part of some of our plans, long ago. Certainly she surprised us all in becoming the Wyvern, but she's never dug too deeply into any of our activities and at the end of the day - she's just an obstacle. And INSIGHT will sweep all obstacles off the map."
The third commander, Ryans, cleared his throat. "And the Soldier?"
"He is close. Still on ice, but I'm keeping him on hand in case of any… anomalies that may arise." He took in a long breath. "In six days, gentlemen, all our hard work, all our planning and sacrifices, will be rewarded. HYDRA's dream of a world at order, at peace, will finally be realized. This is down to you and your hard work, men, and I honor each and every one of you." He cast his gaze over them.
Peace. He could almost taste it.
He nodded. "Hail HYDRA."
"Hail HYDRA," his men called in response, soft enough that the receptionist outside wouldn't hear.
January 8, 2014
National Mall, Washington D.C.
Sam Wilson, covered in sweat stains, nodded at Steve Rogers. "You must miss the good old days, huh?"
"Well, things aren't so bad," Steve said, glancing around. It was a fine day in D.C. "Food's a lot better - we used to boil everything. No Polio is good… internet - so helpful. I've been reading that a lot, trying to catch up."
Sam grinned. "Marvin Gaye, 1972, Trouble Man soundtrack. Everything you missed, jammed into one album."
Steve nodded. "I'll put it on the list." He pulled out the notebook he'd bought after the Battle of New York, flipped through a few pages of suggestions from the other Avengers, most in his handwriting but some in Maggie's and Natasha's, then jotted down Troubleman (soundtrack).
His cellphone buzzed. MISSION ALERT. EXTRACTION IMMINENT. MEET AT THE CURB. :)
"Duty calls."
Quinjet; Over the Indian Ocean
After Rumlow gave the mission briefing about the Lemurian Star, Steve turned to raise his eyebrows at Nat.
"No Wyvern?"
"Fury didn't call her in," she said shortly. "Besides, she's still running cleanup in Greenwich."
Steve nodded, then adjusted his comms and turned to the team to give their orders.
January 9, 2014
INSIGHT Launch Bay, The Triskelion
Steve stared up at the three massive helicarriers in the subterranean hangar, his gaze running over work crews and cranes lifting massive gun turrets. And he'd thought one Helicarrier was impressive.
"After New York, I convinced the World Security Council we needed a quantum surge in threat analysis," Fury said, after explaining how the INSIGHT targeting system worked. "For once, we're way ahead of the curve."
Steve nodded slowly, his gaze still roaming across the hangar. "By holding a gun to everyone on Earth and calling it protection."
As Steve went to the Smithsonian, and then to a nursing home just outside the city to get some perspective, a series of alerts went through the Triskelion HYDRA network.
Finally, Alexander Pierce's phone chimed. He checked the message. Coded, of course, but once he'd decoded it it read: FURY REVEALED INSIGHT TO ROGERS.
He leaned back in his chair and frowned. What are you playing at, Nick? He tapped his fingers against his phone for a moment before composing a reply: MONITOR AND ASSESS.
For now, he needed to figure out who was behind the attack on the Lemurian Star, and handle the World Security Council. Sitwell was concerned there'd been a data leak.
An hour later, when Fury asked Pierce to delay Project INSIGHT, Pierce made a phone call.
"Yes, sir?" answered the handler at the bank.
"Activate the Soldier."
Washington D.C.
That evening, Natasha burst into the surgery observation room of the hospital to see Fury - bleeding, unconscious and vulnerable, being cut open.
She tried to catch her breath as she came to stand beside Steve. His face was downturned and his eyes dark. He'd been there when Fury got shot.
"Tell me about the shooter," she breathed.
"He's fast. Strong. Had a metal arm."
Her breath caught in her chest. She fought not to let it become a gasp.
Silently, Hill entered the room and strode toward the glass.
"Ballistics?" Natasha murmured.
"Three slugs, no rifling." Hill's voice was even. "Completely untraceable."
"Soviet-made."
Hill turned to eye Natasha with a surprised look. "Yeah."
In the other room, Nick Fury began to die.
Ideal Federal Savings Bank, Washington D.C.
The Winter Soldier sat on the hard metal bench in the bank vault, mask over his lower face and his uniform still intact. He had returned from his successful mission half an hour ago, and been instructed to wait.
So now he waited.
Handlers and technicians rushed around, speaking on phones and communication devices, giving and getting mission updates. He overheard snippets - Fury confirmed dead at 1:03, and They're bringing Cap in to the Triskelion for questioning.
The Soldier disregarded the words. He had been ordered to wait, not listen. And so his mind held, frozen, waiting for a mission.
The Soldier breathed, long and slow, and did not move. He waited.
That was his mission.
January 10, 2014
The Savoy Hotel, London
Maggie returned to her hotel after another long day of chasing down fruitless Winter Soldier leads, nodded tiredly to the doorman, and took the elevator up to her floor. In the retro-themed elevator, she closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Another wasted day. She'd been chatting to the survivors of a bus crash from four years ago, but she was pretty sure that despite the high-profile diplomat that had died, there was nothing nefarious about the crash.
She'd been in Britain over three weeks now. She'd tentatively linked one disappearance in Wales to the Soldier, but all her other leads had been busts.
The elevator got to her floor and she stepped out. She looked down the hall, considering going to knock on Selvig's door. She'd put him up at this hotel and told him he could stay however long he liked. She'd also set him up with a local GP and a psychiatrist to get him settled. Jane and Thor were off in Europe somewhere on something like a honeymoon, and Darcy and Ian were visiting his family in the north. So Maggie had Selvig and her leads. Tony had been a bit annoyed with her for missing Christmas, but she'd promised to make it up to him when she got back. He and Pepper had had a lovely time, from the looks of things.
As she let herself into her suite she checked her phone, and frowned at the alerts from her various search algorithms. There were a few reporting disturbances back in D.C.
Maggie strode into her suite, eyes skimming over the view of the Thames, and headed for her Wyvern computer. Time to check on the news.
A minute of research told her that there had been a violent car chase yesterday in downtown D.C., with multiple casualties and shots fired. She tried to dig into it further, but the details were obscured. Fishy. But she knew those signs well enough by now, so she logged into the SHIELD mainframe to investigate further. Only to get the shock of her life on the all-staff alert list.
FUGITIVES, PRIORITY LEVEL ONE:
ROGERS, STEVEN G.
ROMANOFF, NATASHA.
Pictures of their faces were posted beside their names, as if there could be any confusion. There was almost no detail attached to the fugitive notice - it only read All SHIELD staff assigned. Considered armed and dangerous. Alert Sitwell, J.; Pierce, A.; STRIKE Team, with leads.
Maggie sat frozen at the computer for a long minute, staring at the pictures of her friends. She couldn't make it make sense: their faces, on the SHIELD wanted list. A strange, sick feeling began to uncurl at the base of her stomach. When she thought she could move again, she reached for her phone with shaking fingers. She called Steve, then Nat, as she scrolled through the SHIELD mainframe. Neither of their phones even rang. They'd been disconnected.
She tried to slow her breathing. She thought about calling Fury, but at the same moment as the thought occurred to her she saw another all-staff alert informing them of the 'tragic death of Director Fury early this morning'.
She realized that her breathing had suddenly become very loud, and she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from her computer screen. A hot, claustrophobic feeling prickled along her skin and cinched around her chest. Something like apprehension.
What are your options, Wyvern? She asked herself, in an attempt to gain some focus. There was no time to grieve. But still she stalled. She wanted to call whoever was in charge of SHIELD now - probably Maria Hill, or Secretary Pierce on behalf of the Security Council - but SHIELD were hunting her friends. Why?
Her fingers started moving. The file on Steve was locked - she could crack it, given time, but that would alert someone. So first she went a different route. The fugitive order on Steve had been issued from the Triskelion several hours ago, so she managed to gain access to the CCTV feeds at the Triskelion from that time.
She got access to a lesser-restricted feed from the atrium.
The footage showed a figure plunging through the high glass ceiling before crashing to the ground in an impact that would have killed any normal person. But then the figure uncurled itself and Maggie recognized Steve, moving a little slower as he rolled off his shield and got to his feet. The people around him stared. Then he took off running.
Maggie found an external camera feed, found the right time stamp, and watched in mute shock as Steve took down an entire Quinjet from the back of a motorcycle. Just as the Quinjet went spinning down to the ground in a swirl of smoke and flames, the feed cut out and Maggie's screen was taken up by a giant red alert:
SHIELD CLEARANCE REVOKED: ACCESS DENIED.
She frowned and refreshed the screen, only to be met with the same message. When she tried to log back into the SHIELD mainframe it told her her account did not exist.
Her phone rang. She answered with shaking fingers.
"Hello?"
"Ms Stark? This is Jasper Sitwell."
She'd known Sitwell for over a year, they'd met during the New York cleanup. She sighed. "Sitwell, what on earth is going on? I've just seen-"
"I know it must be a shock-"
"- why is SHIELD hunting Steve?" Why did he have to flee the Triskelion? Why did he attack the Quinjet? Why is he running? What is he running from?
"He's withholding information about the death of Director Fury. He's made himself a fugitive. I really am sorry, Ms Stark."
She swallowed thickly, still rooted to the spot in her chair. "And Natasha?"
"She hasn't checked in, so we're working on the assumption that she's assisting him. Listen, I'm sorry about your clearance, but given the confusion at the moment I'm sure you understand. You can get it reinstated when you check in at SHIELD London, okay? It's down in Whitehall, I'm sure you know the address. Maybe you can help us bring Rogers in safely."
Her head spun. She rubbed her forehead, eyes screwed shut. "Yeah, SHIELD London. I'll be there. Okay."
"Talk soon, Ms Stark."
Maggie hung up the phone and set it on her desk. She had no idea what was going on, but she already knew that she had zero intention of going to the London SHIELD base.
She considered trying to hack back into SHIELD, but it didn't feel like the right move. It didn't sound like they knew where Steve and Nat were, anyway. So instead she tried other methods. First she looked into all the known aliases and safehouses she had for Nat and Steve. No luck, which didn't surprise her. Then she traced SHIELD STRIKE Team radio signatures in Washington D.C., and noted that they had converged on a shopping mall about an hour ago.
Shopping mall cybersecurity was no match for her skills. Within a few seconds she had cracked into the mall's CCTV feeds. She scrolled back through the footage until she spotted the STRIKE Team - led by Rumlow - enter the mall and fan out. But they left about half an hour later after an extensive search, looking frustrated. She went back over the feeds. After several scans through, she spotted them: Steve and Natasha. They wore jeans, sneakers, and casual jackets. Steve had on a baseball cap and a pair of glasses, and Nat wore a grey hoodie.
Maggie's eyes narrowed as she tracked them through the mall. They went into an Apple Store, stayed for nine minutes, then left and went down an escalator. When they leaned in to kiss each other, Maggie leaned forward, mouth dropping open.
"What the fuck?"
They drew apart and strode off the escalator as if that were the most normal thing in the world. Moments later Steve and Natasha made it out of the shopping mall, soon dropping out of sight.
Maggie hunched over in her chair and rubbed her temples. This… she didn't have any framework to understand what this was. Fury - imposing, all-knowing, dependable Fury - was dead. Steve apparently linked to his death and going on the run. Natasha helping him. How did this happen?
Her mind turned in endless circles, asking more and more questions that she had no hope of answering.
"I don't know what to do," she whispered.
New Jersey
Steve and Natasha had fallen silent in the stolen truck, as they drove deeper into Jersey. Steve was still mulling over what Natasha had said about how the truth isn't all things to all people all the time. And neither am I. It had been an awful, unsettling day, and he didn't know if her words had made things better or worse.
He was surprised when Natasha spoke again.
"I've been thinking," she said, her eyes on the trees sliding past. "This datastick might tell us what the ghost wants, but… I think I know someone who might know a little more about him. The Winter Soldier, I mean."
He glanced over. "Why didn't you mention this earlier?"
She frowned. "It's just a feeling." She turned to meet his eye. "It's Maggie."
It was his turn to frown. "Maggie Stark?"
"Yes. I think she might have been looking into him at one point. And she's good. She might have more information than me."
Steve's fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "How can we know we can trust her?" He hated that he had to doubt his friend, but after today… he didn't know what was real anymore.
"I was thinking that too," Natasha hummed. "If she's involved in… whatever all this is, there's no way we can test her, or be sure she won't betray us. But we don't have to give everything away."
He thought about it for a few moments, his eyes on the road and his knuckles white. "Okay. You've got a way to contact her?"
She shot him a look. "Of course."
The Savoy, London
When Maggie got a text message from an unrecognized number, at first she frowned. Her phone number wasn't easy to get a hold of. But then she recognized the message: z7ty4rgh - vc. Natasha's call code, with a command.
Letting out a breath that could have been relief or fear, Maggie video called the number.
Natasha picked up instantly. She looked alright, all things considered - her hair was arranged neatly around her face, and her eyes were clear. She appeared to be sitting in a carseat, and Maggie could just make out the sound of an engine.
"Nat," Maggie sighed, brushing her hair back from her face. "Are you okay? I heard about Nick and… are you on the run? Want to tell me what the fuck is happening?"
"Don't worry about me," Nat said, keeping the video frame trained on her. But Maggie knew that someone else had to be driving that car. "I've got a question, actually."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Nat, I think I've asked some pretty important questions myself. Is Steve with you?"
Nat ignored the question about Steve. "I know you have questions, and I can't answer them right now. I'm sorry. But I need your help."
Maggie eyed the redhead for a long moment. Nat waited her out, as if she wasn't counting each second this phonecall stretched on, worrying about location tracing. Finally, Maggie shook her head. "Fine. Don't tell me. But I am flying back to D.C. as soon as I possibly can. I'll ping you when I land, and then meet me at location..." she thought through all the possible meeting spots she and Nat had prearranged. "X6. We can figure this out, whatever it is."
"I can't promise that," Natasha said. Her green eyes were steady. "It's best if you stay away, Maggie, for your own safety. But if you can answer this one question… it would help a lot." She paused. "Please."
Maggie sighed and looked down. She couldn't ever remember Natasha saying please. And even though Maggie still had no idea what was doing on, or who to trust...
After several long moments, she looked up again. "Listen, I… I don't know what the hell is going on. I do know that SHIELD are saying that you two - because I know Steve is with you, don't bullshit me - are fugitives, and traitors." Natasha's face did not change, but Maggie knew that could mean anything. "And I don't know who to believe. But… if it were me, instead of you… I know I'd rely on both of you for anything. So… okay."
Natasha's expression warmed slightly. And it was Steve's voice that answered:
"Thank you, Maggie."
She nodded once. Steve didn't sound hurt, but it was difficult to tell with him. Good to know that he and Nat were together, though. "You've got a question," she said. "Shoot."
Natasha did not pause. "What do you know about the Winter Soldier?"
Maggie felt her face lock up as her heartrate skyrocketed, and her eyes narrowed. "Nat…"
The other woman just stared back at her.
Her jaw clenched. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Steve spoke, and this time Natasha tilted the phone so they were both in frame. He was in civilian clothes and his hands were on the steering wheel, though he occasionally glanced at the phone. "Maggie, we don't… we don't have time for deception," he said. She scowled. "Please, if you know anything, tell us."
Maggie's eyes darted. "This is to do with Fury, isn't it?" She could feel pieces coming together. She could feel the urgency, the immediacy. Like dawn creeping over the horizon after a long, dark night.
"Maggie."
"Fine," she snapped, pushing aside her fragmented thoughts. "You… you really need to know, don't you?" She swallowed, and looked away for a moment.
"We really do," Steve said in a low, serious voice.
What do you know about the Winter Soldier?
She felt as if she were teetering on a high ledge again, her heart thrumming and the world so, so far below her.
After a moment to think, she cleared her throat and looked back at the screen. "Okay, so… when I first got into all this, I started to hear rumors of a… a kind of myth, really. The Winter Soldier." Just a part of the truth. Just the part they need to hear. "Most people don't believe in it. But those that do… they know the signs. He has a metal arm, with a red star on the shoulder. Uses old Russian-made bullets, completely untraceable." Natasha's face did not shift. If she were offended that Maggie had lied to her earlier that year, she did not show it. Maggie swallowed and continued. "He's an unbelievable shot; a skilled sniper, and he leaves pretty much zero evidence."
And so Maggie told them what she knew. She told them all the aliases for the Soldier she had collected, and all her guesses about how he worked and who he targeted. How everyone, even the old Soviets, were scared of him. Her theory that it might be several Soldiers, instead of one. Her suspicion that he was part of something bigger. All of her guesses, and how impossible it had been to track him. How she was attacked early on for asking questions, and how she was pretty sure the Soldier had shot at her once on a mission. The assassinations she had definitely linked to him, and the other crimes that she had tentatively linked.
She told them nearly everything, except for how she had really met the Soldier. And exactly how much time and energy and resources she had spent on this hunt. Natasha and Steve did not speak at all as she revealed everything she knew. Natasha did not react at all, but Steve's face was a picture: he was shocked, confused, maybe even afraid.
When she drew to a close, Steve's brows were deeply furrowed.
"So you believe he's real," he said.
She paused for a long moment. That hot, constricting feeling was back. She had delved deep, much closer to long-buried secrets than she had been in a long time. She had bared more in the last ten minutes than she had in the past twenty years, but she sensed the urgency here. Her skin felt paper-thin. "Without a doubt."
Steve let out a long breath.
Maggie eyed them both through the phone screen. She realized her fingers were white where they gripped her phone. A molten burn rose slowly inside her.
"I've given you what you asked for," she said softly. "So answer me just one question in return."
Steve and Natasha both glanced at the screen.
Maggie's eyes burned from how hard she was concentrating. "You've seen him, haven't you?"
Natasha didn't react. Maggie hadn't expected her to. But Steve was in shot, and at the question, his face shifted. The corners of his mouth turned down, and his eyes darkened.
She felt a spark catch in her chest.
Natasha's eyes widened slightly. "Maggie, don't-"
"Location X6. I'll text you," she bit out. She was already moving.
"Maggie-"
But then Maggie hung up on them.
New Jersey
In the truck, Steve frowned when the call cut out. "Wait, what?"
Natasha stared at the phone for a long moment. "I don't know what it is," she said softly, "but Maggie… she's not normally like this about missions. Something has her entirely focused on the Winter Soldier." She pocketed the phone and looked at him. "And you just told her that the object of her fixation is right here in D.C."
"I didn't-"
"You did. Trust me." Nat rubbed her forehead. "Damn."
"It wouldn't be the worst thing if Maggie turned up," Steve mused. "I don't think she's involved in whatever's going on, and we could really use an ally right now."
Natasha stared out at the oncoming road. "She's not coming for us, Steve."
Reviews
BrownEyes: Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
DBZFAN45: Haha I'm all for adding Maggie to the franchise! I'm glad you liked the action last chapter, I thought it might be interesting to see how Maggie fares without her various metal limbs. I'm glad you love her, one-legged and all!
Guest: I think IM3 is about showing Tony at his most vulnerable, and seeing how he is able to be a hero even without all the bells and whistles. So I wanted one of those moments for Maggie :) I'm glad you liked it!
Deborah Zhang: Thank you so much for the review, I'm honoured! I'm so glad you're enjoying this story :) Looking forward to showing you what's next for Maggie!
Kaz: Thank you for letting me know! I'll keep an eye on it.
Aqua: This version will be a little more lighthearted, but I love a bit of angst from time to time so you can look forward to that ;) Glad your vaccination went okay! I can't wait for mine. Thanks for the kind words about last chapter, I'm glad you like'd Maggie's one-legged adventures haha. And you noticed the parallels to Maggie's surgery!
WE ARE SO CLOSE TO BUCKY.