Chapter Seven: To Make it Official
"We can be heroes for just one day." -David Bowie
Audrey was born to a mother who had always been a fighter. So as soon as she grew old enough to brace her hand into a fist, Peggy took her down to Howard Stark's basement, showed her a punching bag, and taught her how to hit it effectively.
Thanks to the serum, the six-year-old girl was able to hit the bag with the same amount of force as someone twice her size. She balled up her hands and Peggy showed her how to jab, how to perform a roundhouse kick, how to escape an attacker's grasp. Audrey learned quickly how to proceed if someone wrapped a hand around her throat—grab one of their fingers and pull it back until they let go—or if she was hugged and her arms disabled—kick her heel into the attacker's foot, and then send it flying back to their groin.
Peggy taught her to fight the way she'd learned: how to use smaller size to her advantage and how to find someone's weak points when they tried to overpower her with strength. For Audrey's sweet sixteen, she got a modified Sweet Dreams lipstick that wasn't quite as dramatic a shade and a bottle of poison-detecting nail polish. She kept both items in a locked jewelry box on her table, and when she joined S.H.I.E.L.D. soon after, she stashed them in the top drawer of her office, next to her pens and post-its.
Even though she only joined as an investigative agent. Even if she only solved cases and looked into weird goings-on to explain them. Even if she was never fighting like her mother. She held the gifts close to her heart, and trusted them to protect her.
But of course, these were not things that would save her from an alien invasion. Nope. Apparently, for that, she needed three hours of brutal training and metal sticks. Not sticks, she corrected herself. Batons.
Less than fifteen minutes ago, Romanoff had found her asleep on the couch, and poked her until she awoke from her slumber to inform her, "We've got time for training right now. I'd take advantage."
Even through her grogginess, Audrey felt a sense of accomplishment that the Black Widow hadn't tried to kill her or draw on her face while she was sleeping. That was probably a good sign.
Audrey was in the helicarrier's training room with the Natasha Romanoff above her, yelling out various cardio drills. First it had been pushups. Then it had been situps, and then jumping. Not jumping jacks, not jumps-and-kicks, just jumping into the air as high as she could, and landing solidly on her feet. Her calves ached with each spring, and by the time Natasha finally let her stop, she had lost all feeling in her legs. Instead of limbs, they felt more like weird extensions of her body that weighed too much and hung loosely from her torso.
Not that Romanoff cared, it seemed, because next she was demanding that Audrey haul herself off the floor and begin doing kicks against the heavy bag. And then alternating between punches and kicks. And then a twelve step combo including two spins and three types of punches. By the time an hour had passed, Audrey was so sore that she was beginning to feel her actual age. Any of the embarrassment she'd felt towards the beginning of this...torture session had faded to make room for pain and suffering and the feeling that she would soon pass out.
Natasha kept her face blank. It made sense. Audrey wasn't used to this level of exercise, but Natasha had been doing things probably far worse than this since childhood. Even though the blonde had needed to read her file at one point or another, she found little on the Red Room. Of all the reports S.H.I.E.L.D. had in their archives, there was almost nothing about the Black Widow program. Small things: a scar around Natasha's wrist from being forced to sleep handcuffed to her bed, the exact number of agents (twenty-eight), ballet shoes, a brief statement about mouthing along to children's movies to Americanize their voices. Audrey hated cardio, but at least she hadn't been stripped of her childhood and made into a weapon.
Natasha turned around to a silver case on the floor. She bent over to open it, and then carried it over to Audrey, displaying the shiny silver batons inside. "These are for you. Pretty basic; there are at least four other more dangerous sets in the armory downstairs. Hold them three inches from the base."
Hesitantly, Audrey reached into the case and grasped a baton in each fist. They were heavier than she expected, and she lifted them up for closer inspection.
"The weight is designed for someone heavier than you, but not quite as strong. We'll see how it goes." Natasha lifted her arms up and stepped into a fighting stance. One hand, clenched in a fist, was held close to her chin, while the other was straight down, parallel to her thigh. "I'm about to attack you. What do you do?"
Audrey hesitated, unsure of the answer. "Block you?"
Natasha shrugged. "That works." And then, without warning, she swung her fist at the blonde. She barely had time to react, lifting up the batons to cross under her wrist, and then yanking them apart to send Natasha's arm up into the air. Oh my god. She blocked an attack from the Black freaking Widow. In her excitement, she burst into a grin and dropped the batons. "Holy sh—"
And then, promptly, Natasha dropped to the floor and knocked Audrey's feet out from under her, leaving her on her ass.
"—it! OW. Oops."
"Treat this like it's real," Romanoff instructed. "Remember that I probably could kill you."
Right. There was that to worry about. Audrey rolled forward, picking herself up off the mat.
"Again," Natasha said, moving back into her fighting position. Like before, she moved to attack Audrey, who dodged the kick by ducking. This, unfortunately, gave Natasha an opening to wrestle her to the floor, pinning her.
She stood back up, offered a hand to Audrey, and pulled her to her feet. "You need better grounding. If you can't balance, you'll never be able to make it in a fight." She bit her bottom lip for a moment, and then released it to give Audrey more instructions. "Put your body at an angle to the ground. One foot in front of the other, and bend your knees."
Audrey followed the instructions, planting her feet in a mirror image of Romanoff's.
"Now lean forward a little. This is just a start, by the way. Fights are usually very mobile, but if you try and resume this position, it'll be harder for someone to push you over. You never want to end up pinned down. An attacker only needs a second to shoot you in the head. Five seconds to cut your throat."
The blonde made a face. That sounded unpleasant. Really, really, unpleasant. Definitely to-be-avoided.
Natasha circled her, adjusting her stance. Audrey made note of everything she did, from the re-positioning of her fists to the tilting of her chin.
Back and forth they went, Natasha attacking first, and then Audrey. Every time, Audrey ended up on the floor, but the redhead made sure that she knew why. Either, "You need to react more quickly. Reflexes take time to train, but part of it is that you aren't on high enough alert," or, "If you want your hit to have more impact, aim for about an inch lower, where the muscles are usually used less, and probably weaker," or, "if you're going to spin around like that, turn your wrist with the rest of your body to take advantage of that momentum."
But Audrey could feel herself picking up on it. She probably wouldn't be able to, like, backflip into a kick or something after just one workout with the Black Widow, but she felt better able to protect herself.
Natasha finally called their training session to an end after flipping Audrey over for what was at least the twentieth time that day. Audrey collapsed onto the mat, rolling back into a sitting position, propped up against the wall. She needed a nap.
Unlikely to happen, however.
"Your technique is pretty bad," Natasha remarked. The blonde's eyes flew up to her.
"Oh," she said. "Uh. Sorry."
Ignoring her apology, the redhead continued, "But you're resourceful. Your fighting just needs to be polished. You've got the strength. You have the will."
Natasha didn't smile, but Audrey couldn't help herself. Her face broke into a grin. All the training with her mom had paid off, apparently. Peggy had been known for being scrappy. More than once, she'd defended herself with staplers or a nearby briefcase.
"Keep the batons on you," Natasha instructed. "Fury needs me for now, but Stark says that there's something in your locker."
Audrey frowned. In her locker? How had Tony known which locker was hers?
He'd probably annoyed someone into telling him. But how had he gotten into the women's locker room? Audrey pushed the thoughts away, suddenly deciding that she didn't want to think about it too hard. As Natasha stepped towards the door, she remembered her manners, calling, "Uh, thank you. For the training."
The redhead smirked. "You look miserable."
"I feel miserable," Audrey blurted. "I mean, I feel better equipped too, though, that's why—"
A stern look cut her off. "Check your locker," Natasha repeated, then left without another word.
Audrey sat still for another few minutes, in awe about everything happening. She winced as she finally rolled forward and heaved herself up off the floor. After gathering the batons, she placed them back into the case and clicked it shut. She was hungry again, but felt that if she ate anything she would actually throw up. Better to give it a second, she decided. In the meantime, she'd get whatever Tony wanted her to find.
She followed the hallways back to the locker room, when it hit her. The suit. He'd promised her a suit. "Did you really think we'd leave you out of our superhero fight club?"
Oh god. She didn't want a suit, especially not if it was Tony-designed. If she encouraged this, he might be inspired to start designing a clothing line or something. Stark Style.
No no no. Nope. Stop. She needed to get off of this train of thought.
Audrey almost considered just not going to the locker room and saying that Romanoff hadn't told her, but then what would Natasha think? She might as well just see what it looked like, right? She wasn't going to wear it, she still stood by the whole draw-as-little-attention-to-myself-as-possible thing, but it couldn't hurt to see what it looked like. Right?
Right.
She wasn't a superhero, but she could still see what it looked like.
Upon finally reaching the locker room, she made a beeline for her locker, hand trembling as she made to enter her fingerprint. It beeped at the recognition.
Audrey held her breath as she reached for the handle, pulling up and then out, swinging the door open to find...
Nothing.
Well. Not nothing, but there was no suit. Just a slip of paper, and in Tony's messy scribbles, a message that read: In the armory.
She rolled her eyes, tossing the note back inside her locker and slamming the door. The shelf rattled and Audrey immediately cringer. "Crap! Sor—" She cut herself off, making a face. There was nobody else in here. "Oops."
Audrey had no particular interest in participating in this whole scavenger hunt thing Tony had her on. But she had nothing better to do, and she hadn't really brought a book with her, expecting that there wouldn't be much down time. She felt almost useless, now that her heart rate had calmed and she wasn't training. Romanoff was off doing important agent stuff, Banner and Tony were off in scienceland with Jane, and and Steve was probably… being righteous. Or something. Professing his love to a lady named justice?
Audrey cringed. She really should know what her dad was doing. She knew he liked to draw, but suspected that he hadn't brought a sketch pad. Even if he had, the last time she'd seen him he'd been wearing red rubber gloves, and although she was not an artist herself, she strongly suspected that those would get in the way of drawing or painting or whatever.
Her dad could've been off napping, but as long as he wore his uniform, he was a Man of Importance.
She wondered how, exactly, a comically bright uniform made people take him seriously, but she wondered if it would apply to herself as well. Before she could talk herself out of it, Audrey started on a path to the armory, following the route that had been pointed drawn out in a map somewhere in her briefing packet. If anything happened, she would just ditch the suit. She probably wouldn't even be able to go into the field.
Two elevator rides, three missteps, and a lot of hallways later, Audrey found herself in the armory. She swiped her key card to unlock the room. The screen on the reader flashed with a message. CARTER, AUDREY. The large metal door slid open and she passed through into the armory. The attendant by the door raised an eyebrow at her.
"Um, Tony Stark sent me down here?" When he didn't react, she added, "Audrey Carter?"
"Left hallway, one door down."
Audrey wasn't surprised by how large the weapons room was, but she was intimidated. Practically everything in here had the capability to kill someone, something she was decidedly not down with. It was part of the reason why she chose to pursue a less-combative career. She doubted that she would be able to bring herself to ever take a life, even if it was a faceless guard somewhere.
Taking the left hallway per the guard's instructions, Audrey found herself in front of yet another I.D. scanner. At this point, her heart was racing in her chest. She was suddenly acutely aware of everything happening: the costume, the hypothetical alien invasion, the recent rediscovery of her dad. The world could be coming to an end, and she was part of the group that was supposed to stop that. How was she supposed to stop the apocalypse? She barely knew how to manage her mom's medical paperwork.
You handled your dad coming back pretty… okay. Decently. Well enough. Now, that whole issue was being dwarfed by everything else at stake. What did it matter if her dad wanted to be her dad, if they were both dead? Or in an alien prison, or something?
She scanned her badge with trembling fingers as the door slid open, and there it was.
A long-sleeved, royal blue suit clothed the mannequin. The fabric looked almost like it was from another planet,like the metal of Thor's armor. Bulletproof, Tony had said. The uniform was bulletproof. On the shoulder of the uniform was a S.H.I.E.L.D. logo, subtle, but there. She suddenly thought of Peggy, and had a pang of emotion for her mother. This was all her mom's work. Without S.H.I.E.L.D., Loki might've already enslaved the human race. An overwhelming swell of pride hit her. Her mother was still saving the world, even if she sometimes forgot her own name.
The suit was matched by an almost metallic-looking skirt. It was a deep red, hit just above the mannequin's knee, and matched the cape.
Which, yeah. Tony hadn't been kidding when he said cape. The dark red fabric cascaded down the back of the uniform. Audrey wasn't sure what it was for; she didn't fly, obviously. She searched the room for some clue as to why it was there, finally discovering a screen that lit up to reveal bulleted points that detailed every feature. Fireproof cape made of a flexible metallic polymer. Bulletproof suit that, when coupled with her super strength, should be even more effective than a kevlar. The belt that divided the skirt from the suit had built-in sheaths. Skirt for extended flexibility, and, as Tony annotated in his handwriting, fashion.
Audrey wasn't sure how to proceed. She felt a strange mix of honor, and childlike wonder, and pride, but most of all, anxiety. She'd been called in to fight. The world was at stake, literally, and with her own S.H.I.E.L.D., her own suit, her mother's reminder on its shoulder, she realized that it didn't matter if she drew attention to herself. A fight was a fight, and as long as she was doing her part to help her parents, and Tony, and the really terrifying woman who'd trained her just an hour ago, she'd be doing her part.
Audrey stared up at the uniform, jaw on the floor. Suddenly, the weight of her name, and everything that came with it seemed to weigh a lot heavier on her shoulders.
But she was willing to carry that burden. For the right cause. For the right people.
Fifteen minutes later, clothed in the suit and feeling slightly more confident, Audrey arrived in the lab. Sure, she was proud to wear the suit. But the looks of confusion people had given her when she headed back to the upper levels of the ship were kind of… awkward.
Darcy was the first to greet her when she stepped through the doorway. "Cute look," she said, perking up from her spot on a stool. "Most people can't pull that off at seventy."
Audrey's eyes widened. She didn't need to think too hard before figuring who had told the brunette. "Tony!" she barked. "You can't just—Tony!"
The man in question finally looked up from the screen where he was furiously typing in data. "Hmm? I can't just what?" Stepping out from behind the lab table, he added, "Nice suit, by the way. A genius must have designed it."
"Well, that's what the tests say but I beg to differ. You can't just… tell people who don't have clearance that I'm seventy years old."
Darcy turned to Tony apologetically. "Sorry, Iron-dude. Was I not supposed to tell her that?"
He waved her off, turning back to Audrey. "I didn't do anything. That information was lowered to a clearance level 6."
"Six?"
"I, personally, think that the resemblance between you and Mr. Stars and Stripes is pretty obvious, but I guess Fury just wanted to make sure everyone knew who the tiny blonde on board was." Smirking, he added, "Or at least, that's what he said on the comms feed I just hacked into."
"Really? That's what Fury sai—you what?"
Tony ignored her surprise, shrugging. "I've been downloading all of the information on this helicarrier onto a private server. All your secrets will be mine, or however that's supposed to go." He shrugged again. "Now, back to the uniform. How does it feel? Need any adjustments?"
"It's fine. The cape's a nice touch, I guess."
"More effective than your old man's shield, by… I'm gonna estimate about three-hundred percent. The cape can shield other people. Instead of, you know, one person all tucked up like a turtle. It makes him look significantly less righteous when he does that, you know?"
"You can't just hack into top-secret databases, Tony," Audrey argued, her voice growing louder. She folded her arms across her chest.
"What does S.H.I.E.L.D. want with the cube anyway? I call bull on this sustainable energy schtick. I announced my green energy project months ago. They would've called me in to consult."
Audrey opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it. Tony had a point. S.H.I.E.L.D. should've called him in when they were considering energy. And what was the energy supposed to power? They weren't anywhere close to being short on funds, and a power bill was certainly the least of their worries.
She sighed, begrudgingly dropping her arms. "Anything you find stays in the lab. I'm not kidding." Then, noticing Steve's absence, she asked, "Where's Rogers?"
Tony held up a tool, pointing it in her direction. "Your father-dearest stormed out of here a while ago. If you see him, tell him that Stark Tower isn't ugly."
Steve didn't trust Nick Fury.
He trusted Audrey. He trusted his instincts. And that was it. Everyone else—Bucky, the Howling Commandos, the S.S.R.—was gone. Now, surrounded by spies, it was more than obvious that things were being kept from him.
Even though he hated to admit it, Tony was right. Nothing was adding up. He didn't understand much about the science surrounding the Tesseract, but he knew enough to realize that if S.H.I.E.L.D. knew about Stark's energy project, they would've asked him for help. Now, he understood wanting to keep some things from the guy, just based on the day he'd known him, but not an area Tony was an expert on. Not when his job as a consultant was to be consulted.
By the time he reached the archives, Steve was determined to figure out what was going on. There was a scanner on the side of the door that he knew Audrey could use her badge to open, but he didn't have a card.
That didn't matter, he decided. After he checked over his shoulder to make sure the guards were out, he began to pull on the metal, which squeaked and groaned in his grip. It took a second, but the door finally gave way, allowing him to open it enough to pass through.
The storage room was a large warehouse. Metal crates were stacked on massive shelves that ran in aisle after aisle. He had no idea what he was looking for. The files weren't organized in any particular way, as he found after searching a few crates. He moved quietly, trying not to make too much noise in case there was someone else in the stacks.
He was five boxes deep into the failed-science-experiments section of the archives when he heard footsteps. Steve flipped the cover back onto the box he was searching through, trying to locate the sound of the footsteps. A pair of boots, it seemed. A woman. Coming from his seven o'clock.
Tucking himself behind a shelf, Steve waited for her to pass. He held his breath.
Sometimes, mostly when he was hiding, he realized that he almost missed being small. Back then, he was at least able to remain covert. Not that he ever did, because, well, he'd always been getting into fights, but at least he could've.
The footsteps rounded closer to him, and he noticed that they weren't… deliberate. Whoever was striding towards him wasn't marching in a hurry. It was more of a strolling gait.
When the person finally passed by the aisle he was in, they didn't head straight past him, like he expected. Instead, the woman made a turn, then looked up from the phone in her hand.
"Audrey?" he asked. She was dressed differently. "Nice uniform."
Her face went from concentrated to grinning. "Thanks! Uh, Stark designed it for me. Um. Different Stark from the one who designed yours, though. Obviously." She cringed, then, as if remembering something, twisting her face back up in concentration. "What are you doing down here?"
Steve would have answered, but he hadn't had time to come up with an excuse for being where he was.
Audrey looked worried as she continued, "If you have to rip the door off its tracks to get in here, you probably shouldn't… you know… be here. I don't want to get you in trouble, or yell at you or whatever. But, um, you really shouldn't."
Steve stepped out of the shadows. He didn't want to lose Audrey's trust, but he wasn't willing to give up this easily. "Fury's hiding something from us. I want to know what he's doing with the cube."
She hesitated visibly. Like him, she seemed to be a terrible liar. "Did Tony get into your head?"
He shrugged, not wanting to admit it. But still, he answered, "Some of it makes sense. If he's really such a big deal with all of that energy science, he should've… been called in." He took a breath. "Do you trust Fury?"
Audrey fiddled with the bottom of her sleeve for a moment. "I… well, uh, I guess I trust that he'll do what he thinks is right." She stopped, even though she sounded like she wanted to say more.
"But?"
"But… what he thinks is right isn't always the right thing. He's in charge of a lot, and you can't… it's hard to trust people who control so much."
Steve nodded.
"I'll help you look," she blurted suddenly. "I think there's something happening here, and I mean, I might get fired but, um… I can't actually find a bright side, but let's deal with that later." She sucked in a breath. "What are we looking for?"
Looking around the room, he replied, "Not sure. Anything on the Tesseract, or on what S.H.I.E.L.D. was planning to do with it."
"Okay," she said, nodding. "Alright."
For the next half hour, they scoured the shelves of the room. There was nothing on the Tesseract that they could find in the hard copies. It was only when Audrey opened a box with a gasp that they really found something.
"Oh my god," she whispered, shutting it immediately and backing away. When Steve looked over, she seemed alarmed.
"What is it?" he asked.
She shook her head, but didn't answer.
What could possibly be this bad? He took slow steps towards the box, carefully opening it to see what, exactly, had jarred her so much. But when he saw what was inside, he had practically the same reaction. Because the box?
It was storing HYDRA weapons.
"I had no idea!" she blurted.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had been holding onto HYDRA weapons. The HYDRA that had terrorized Europe and almost gotten him killed. The organization that killed his fellow soldiers, that caused so much damage, and S.H.I.E.L.D. had kept their weapons. S.H.I.E.L.D. was supposed to be the good guys. He knew it was never that simple, but still. They'd rescued him. They'd given him an apartment. They'd reunited him with Audrey.
Audrey. Her defensiveness seemed suspicious now, now that he knew he couldn't trust anyone. "You're a highly-ranked S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and you had no idea they were making HYDRA weapons?"
In a period of about three seconds, her face went through an entire range of emotion: shock, distress, and then a previously hidden anger.
"Do you really think that I, knowing who my parents are, would approve of this?" She seemed almost on the verge of tears as she continued, "You're Captain America. And I know that you—you're new to me, and you've never met me, but I've always known about you. You've always been a part of my life. I wouldn't… I wouldn't do this. Do you think I would, with mom being who she was? Do you think I'd support the use of weapons built by the organization that my parents both fought against?"
By the time she took in another shaky breath, Steve was already regretting his words. Of course she wouldn't. Peggy would've raised her to know better, would've instilled better morals in her. She was wearing a uniform, ready to fight, just like him. It was unfair for him to say something like that, when she'd proven so many times in the past two days alone that she was the same as him, always wanting to do the right thing.
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "We have to confront Fury about this," she said finally, pushing aside the fact that he had questioned her loyalty.
Audrey threw her arm down into the container to grab one of the weapons, but Steve could see her pause before she grabbed it, unsure only for a second. Then, it was back to rage. Gun in hand, she marched him down to the lab.
Steve blew out a breath. How were they ever supposed to be a team like this?
a/n: First and foremost, I'm so sorry for the delay in updating! I was on holiday with my family, and the day I scheduled to be for writing I ended up in the emergency room, and then later on the trip I ended up in the hospital again, and then when I got home I was stalled trying to get ready for the my sophomore year, so I haven't had time or the motivation, but recently, my muse has begun to come back!
Also, if you're wondering, Natasha's fight scenes/training references come from the Red Room scenes in Agent Carter.
Shoutout to all my readers who are also writers, it was fanfic writers appreciation day on Sunday! I love you all 3
If you're interested, guys, I have a list of actors/actresses who I envision when I write my original characters. I'm willing to post them if you guys want!
Anyways, I'd appreciate a review so, so much. They're such a big deal to me honestly, and it motivates me way more when I get feedback.
Chapter Eight: Bonds Broken
Everything was erupting into chaos. Audrey watched, helpless, as their almost-team began to fall apart.