*** Alright guys, this chapter has been revised, but this is also where I begin rewriting with new content! So even if you are an old follower, now is the time to dive back in. I apologize, really, that the previous version was such a poor draft, because now you know the bare bones of the plot. I'm going to go ahead and take down the rest of the chapters for now as well, otherwise we are going to start confusing people. If you notice, this is my second update in three days, and I've already gotten more written out. Call it my post Infinity War creative surge. Or rather, I was so heartbroken by that plot I needed to write one that would make me feel better. I refer of course to the opening scene of the movie. You know what I'm talking about.***
Clint waited for Emory to exit the room before turning back to the other men. He looked at them appraisingly before stating, "Kyle has had no attacks or suspicious activity in his area, nor have any other members of Emory's primary team. Whoever attacked her, only wants her."
"Or Cara," Bruce said, gazing down at the child in Tony's lap. She was currently enamored with this beard. "As improbable at is seems, it is a possibility we have to consider."
He shrugged uncomfortably at the thought and began turning the coffee mug in his hands around and around, trying to stay calm. Anyone threatening his goddaughter made him irritated at the very least.
"Yeah, ok, a possibility, but who the hell would want to hurt something this adorable?" Tony gestured down at the baby. She had now curled into his chest and was sleeping against his arc reactor. The low hum was probably soothing. "She's just a kid."
"A kid with extraordinary parents. Potentially, someone wants to take her young, mold her to their needs. A brainwashed soldier with an impressive skill set." Clint picked up another piece of toast. "Could be the Red Room again." Instead of taking a bite, he stared into the dark liquid he cradled.
"Emory, she's too old, too headstrong. They would just eliminate her and take Cara." He glanced up at them and then turned towards the massive TV on the wall. "That's just one of many possibilities though. Jarvis, bring up all the adversaries Emory has dealt with while with SHIELD, either alone or with a team."
Hundreds of imposing faces appeared on the screen, men and women of all ages and nationalities, looked down at them. Clint let out a low whistle and took a bite of toast.
"That's a lot of enemies." Bruce stared at the wall with grey eyes wide and a slackjaw expression. "Maybe we should narrow it down some. Jarvis, remove everyone who's confirmed dead." Well over two thirds of the faces disappeared. "There, that helps a bit. Alright, now how about anyone we can confirm is securely incarcerated at the moment."
Only six remained. Two women and four men stared back at them, angry and apologetic. "There we go. Six leads right there, six people with a possible agenda."
Stark laid Cara down in a crib in the corner, and walked over to where the other two Avengers were standing. "Yeah, but the question still remains. Why just her? Did she piss of anyone in particular? You know her best Bird Brains." He began picking apart a muffin he snagged from the kitchen, slender fingers working as he thought out loud.
"I'm not sure," he replied, still intent on the screen. His eyes studied each face individually, as if willing the person to give up all their secrets right then. "Everyone has enemies, especially in this line of work. We'll just ask about them when she wakes up."
"Alright, so we have possible child-snatchers, six potential enemies here, what about anyone Emory personally killed? Vengeful family members or lovers?" Bruce had gone back to the couch, burying his head in his hands as he worked through the puzzle.
Jarvis brought up three more pictures, these with a red X through them. "Would you like for me to begin a search through these files sir?"
"Yes, Jarvis. Get any info that seems relevant. Last seen where, what are they up to, any questions they've been asking, etc. Everything with their name attached."
"Certainly Agent Barton. I will also put them through the surveillance software in case any decide to pop up in New York City." The AI went silent as he went to work, but the faces remained on the screen for the trio to stare up at. Stark went to join Bruce on the couch, lounging gracefully with his feet propped up on the coffee table.
"I feel like we are missing something. There's more to this than a vendetta. Why only Emory? Who no one else on her team? Why not Kyle?" Clint paced in front of the New York skyline, running his hands through short cut hair. He turned back towards the couch, hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand, willing himself to think of an answer, with little result.
Not an answer he wanted to bring up out loud. They all knew the facts. It wasn't Emory the enemy was after. He spun away once more.
"Come on guys, think! There are two geniuses, a super spy, and an AI in this room. Let's get some answers."
Tony suddenly chimed in, "Jarvis, what about any adversaries before SHIELD?" Clint turned towards him suddenly. "Now that's a thought. Everyone has a past, and she came in with a skill set. That came from somewhere."
They sat in silence again as the AI worked.
After a while Jarvis spoke back up. "Sir, I have only one piece of information concerning her past." A heavily redacted document popped up on the screen, leaving only one or two lines available to read. The three men took a moment to look it over, examining everything carefully.
Finally, Bruce asked the obvious question. "What's Project Nightshade?"
She was surrounded by darkness, yet some sort of ambient light made it possible to see a short distance. Mist swirled around her feet, always giving way so that she never quite touched it. Where am I? Even though she thought the words to herself, they echoed around the space, repeating over and over, getting further and further away. Wherever she was, the space was huge.
She closed her eyes and pushed her consciousness out and around her, sensing for any sign of life or company. She searched, and found...nothing. She was alone in this private hell. It's a dream, she realized. A dream that she was aware of and couldn't escape. Just great.
Someone had brought her into this dream, so challenging them might get results. She called out into the darkness, "Whoever you are, you should go ahead and show yourself! I know I've been brought into a dream, which means you have a purpose. Let's just get this over with."
There was no reply. No other consciousness drifted through, there was nothing. Just Emory and the mist. She huffed quietly to herself and sat down, settling in for the long run. There was no telling how long she would be stuck here.
Time seemed to creep on while Emory studied her nails. Still no one showed up. While she was stuck here, she wasn't really sleeping. And she wasn't awake either! Cara!
She called into the mists again. "If you have anything to do with the attack from yesterday, know that I'm looking for you, and I will find you. You picked a fight with the wrong woman!"
Still no response. Well, time to break out of here. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly through her nose, in and out, gathering her strength. When she had some time built up, she forged her thoughts into a blade and shoved it through the mists, shattering the dreamscape and returning to her body.
Sensing all was well with the baby, she let her body fall into a real sleep.
Once her form had blinked out of the mists, another figure stepped into view and stood where she had sat. They spent some time just looking down at the ground before also blinking out of existence.
The phone seemed to ring on and on, filling the room with its trills as they waited for the other side to pick up. Jarvis had been trying the line for almost two hours, with not much luck. Tony's patience was running thin.
"What if the world were ending again?! What if someone were dying? Really, of all the people who need to answer their phones, this is one of them!" Clint watched him pace back and forth, trying to stifle his amusement.
Bruce spoke up. "Well, honestly, if the world were ending, or someone were dying, he would already know about it, and be on top of it." He shrugged. "The fact that none of that is happening, is probably why he isn't picking up."
"Or maybe I was already on my way, and thought it a waste of time to talk to you on the phone. I hate that damn thing."
They all spun around to see Nick Fury standing in the doorway, hands on his hips as he glared them down.
Tony looked around the room lazily before settling on the Director. "Did someone around here order a pizza?"
He got a one-eyed glare in return before Fury swept into the room and settled himself on the couch, one leg slung over the other knee. "Ha ha, so very funny. What would we do without that mouth of yours?"
Tony smirked in reply, but otherwise remained silent. Instead he moved to stand by Cara's crib looking down at her as she slept. Barton spoke up instead.
"I assume you're here because of the attack on Emory's safehouse?" A faint wrinkle formed between Fury's eyebrows.
"Well, no, I have a mission for you. It's sensitive in nature, hence me delivering it personally." He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. "Contrary to popular belief, I do not take a personal interest in every single one of my agents. SHIELD is a large organization. While I'm glad the agent in question is now safe, the handling of that matter has been delegated beneath me."
Three sets of eyes looked at him in shock from across the room. Emory was no run of the mill agent. But apparently she wasn't special enough to gain the Director's personal interest.
"Oh." Tony finally broke the silence before plunging right into the deep end. "I don't suppose you know anything about something called "Project Nightshade", do you?"
Fury rose one eyebrow but didn't say anything in response. He simply stared Tony down until the other man found something else, anything else, to look at. And then he changed the subject.
"Now about the mission I have for you. Agent Barton, Agent Romanoff and her team need you in the Middle East. I expect you on a quinjet out within the hour." Clint nodded in return and headed for the door. Before reaching the threshold he faltered for a second, and then turned back. "Sir? With all that's happened with Emory….should we-"
"Agent Black will be fine without you, Agent Barton. She is safe here within the Tower, and perfectly capable of handling herself. Now go. That's an order." Barton's face hardened in response, but he followed his orders and left.
Once the archer exited the room, Fury turned back to the two scientists and pulled a thick manila folder from his trenchcoat. "I have some new alien technology we salvaged."
He handed the folder over to the two men, waiting a moment as they eagerly flipped through the pages. "I would like for you to take a look through everything here, see what can be converted to SHIELD assets, what your team can use, and what needs to be locked down as too dangerous to have around."
Tony and Bruce nodded along, halfway paying attention as they spoke quietly to each other. "This is of the utmost security, and I need the file back in forty eight hours, so I need you to be quick and thorough."
They nodded again, already making their way to the elevator, headed for the labs downstairs. Fury watched them go before shaking his head and going over to the crib in the corner. "I guess I'll just let myself out then…"
He took a moment while no one was looking to smile down at the sleeping child, even going so far as to reach in and stroke a baby soft cheek with his rough finger.
"Where's a video camera when I need one?" Fury straightened back up, turning towards the door while adjusting his coat. Emory leaned against the frame, arms crossed as she watched the scene unfold. "Otherwise, how is anyone going to believe me when I tell them Nick Fury is going soft?"
She grinned before moving forward to join him in looking down at her daughter.
"She's beautiful." He said it quietly, almost afraid she might in fact have a camera.
"She is." The reply was just as soft.
He sighed, suddenly feeling his age. The years were beginning to weigh down on him. "The attackers, I'm not sure what they were." She stiffened. "I can't tell if they were human, or something else."
She shook her head. Something was happening, someone was coming for her. She just didn't know who, and apparently neither did he.