Roberta had to acquire the assistance of a great many incredibly shady people to transport an obviously drugged man from one side of the country to the other where the New Shield had established their headquarters. It pained her soul to leave such people walking freely knowing how they got their experience for shipping drugged humans about the country without drawing legal attention. The fact that she knew any human traffickers sickened her that much more. It left her questioning if she had really done all that much good for the world by being a mole inside of Hydra. She did an amazing job maintaining her cover, no one had ever come close to suspecting her; but this was the kind of evil her job required she allow to fester. Dark, half formed thoughts began to swirl in her head as she hauled Ward up for his next dose of rohypnol. Maybe the world would be better without her in it, maybe whatever entity assigned soul marks knew what she would be, maybe she deserved Ward.
She shook her head, trying to dislodge the squirming evolving thoughts from her mind. Right now was not the time to devolve into a steaming pile of self-loathing. She had a mission to complete. She was doing something not evil right now by turning in her soul mate. He would face justice, and she would be free to make amends for every time she turned her back on doing the right thing in the name of the long game. How many people had her role as a double agent sacrificed for the greater good? Did the scales balance out? Or did the side of sacrifice weigh more? Did she even believe that crap about scales and greater good? Who had the right to decide how much a life was worth?
Looking over at Ward as she prepared to disembark with him for the final time on this journey, she realized he was about to be one more life placed on the "few" side of her scale. Roberta began to panic at that moment. What if there really was some intelligent entity out there assigning soul mates and judging her actions? She was so going to hell. If it wasn't blind impersonal fate, if it wasn't some random roll of cosmic dice, she was definitely going to hell. Not just for what she was about to do, but for everything that she had done before. God, I hope you aren't there. Please don't be real, she begged in her moment of mental crisis. Breathe, Roberta. Breathe. Just a bit farther and then you can break down mentally if you want. Maybe they'll put you in the cell next to Ward's, she coached herself as she walked toward the garage in which Coulson and his waiting team stood.
As she drew closer to the Director and cohorts she drew back into her shield, the mask she wore whenever she was near other members of humanity. Her features became as serene as those of the infamous agent known as The Calvary who stood to Coulson's right and slightly behind him. When Roberta deemed them close enough without placing herself immediately in striking distance, she assisted gravity in throwing Ward at the Director's feet in front of her. Roberta breathed steadily as she waited for SHIELD's representatives to speak first. The moment drew out as each side waited to see who would break the silence first.
"May," Coulson cut the lengthening moment short as he spoke to the agent at his right without breaking eye contact with Roberta, "please verify that," he indicated the man on the floor with a wave of his hand, "that is Grant Ward." As May, A.K.A. The Calvary, moved to obey the gently worded command, running a scanner over him. While a slight smirk graced his mouth the Director drew in breath softly to greet Roberta, "Ms. Emerson, so glad you could join us. How was the trip?"
Roberta wasn't sure how she felt about the levity she sensed in the Director's voice. Surely he knew what kind of people would have assisted her in getting an inebriated and helpless being that outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds across the country. So she allowed some of her own self-disgust to color her voice as she sneered in answer, "Sleazy, human traffickers are not known for classy transportation after all."
The look on the face of the girl to Coulson's left was anything but amused. Her hair was dark, her skin a dark and luminous gold, and her eyes a warm chocolate. At least they were warm before Roberta uttered her off color quip about her traveling companions. It would seem that Roberta would not be the only one to be disgusted with herself for her connections. As Roberta took in the trio Ward began to regain some consciousness. He blearily looked up at the girl on his and Roberta's right. His smile was feral and no less threatening for its drunken nature.
"Skye, did you miss me," his voice was dark and lascivious. Oh how lucky am I, her mind exclaimed in dark sarcasm, I get to watch my evil soul mate hit on his long lost love!
The girl who was previously so unimpressed with Roberta, was apparently the person he had been stalking and taunting. The infamous Skye was really not going to be impressed were she to learn about Roberta's soul marks. Skye's eyes became haunted when Ward addressed her, and she tightened ever so slightly. Her entire being shrinking into itself even as she drew up in height. It seemed that even her breathes came less deeply, as if she were afraid that breathing the same air as Grant would somehow make him more real, more capable of touching.
As Skye drew into herself, a shadow separated from the rest in the oversized garage. The large hulking Darkness stopped next to Skye in a protective stance. He was angled so that his left side remained obscured to any searching eyes that did not stop Roberta or Ward from identifying him. Here stood the Winter Soldier, the asset that Hydra believed she would retrieve with the help of Grant Ward. Roberta was suddenly very glad that capturing her erstwhile soul mate was her last hurrah as a Hydra agent.
"Ms. Emerson, may I introduce you to Bucky Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier," Coulson's pleasant voice had a subtle core of steel underlying the mild top notes.
"Pleasure," Roberta replied shortly, "Not to be rude or anything Director, but do you think we could go ahead and get the mad hatter here put away so you can have me debriefed and I can sleep in a bed. The whole sleeping with one eye open thing only allows for so much rest, and I didn't do much of even that while amongst my contacts that helped get Ward here."
"Of course, although you still have to go through the process of acquiring a lanyard. I wouldn't count on seeing a bed any time real soon, Ms. Emerson," was the Director's reply, again Roberta took note of the steel in the otherwise mild mannered voice.
"Please, call me Roberta. Or Emerson. Either way please drop the Miss," she requested getting quite sick of the sugary sweet politeness.
"Or course, Roberta," Coulson replied and then turned to the Winter Soldier, "Please take our guest to his holding cell, Barnes. Don't worry about being too gentle, he won't be capable of answering our questions until the drugs wear off. That could take some time."
The answering grin the Soldier wore was bone chilling to say the least. As he stepped forward to grab Ward, he laid a gentle hand on Skye's shoulder. Something in her stance softened at the light touch. She still resembled a spring to Roberta, just not so much a tightened one. At any moment it seemed that Skye could go back to that strained spring, quivering with the tension trapped in its coils.
As the Soldier's hand slipped off her shoulder, Skye reached her own hand out to brush the fingers of his hand as it descended from her shoulder. He sent a look over his own shoulder that Roberta could not see but if the look on Skye's face was anything to go by then she began to understand why Ward had contacted her handlers seeking an alliance with the intent of ending the Soldier's partnership with SHIELD. Ward was jealous, and with good reason considering the heat that Roberta just saw in Skye's eyes.
As if the fact that her soul mate was a murdering conscienceless psychopath wasn't complicated enough, he had to be in love with a woman who was in love with a man who was a century old and probably as equally unstable as himself after being repeatedly brainwashed and tortured for the majority of his unnatural life. Oh, that soap opera comparison wasn't even right enough. And I still haven't met our third. How much worse is this going to get?! She thought viciously, closer to tears than she had ever been since she was a teenager.
She was pulled away from her internal monologue by the Director's voice instructing her to follow him. As she made to follow him May stepped in behind Roberta. She felt rather a bit like a prisoner herself in that moment, knowing as she did that May was more than capable of killing her with bare hands.
They herded her into a room that was supposed to resemble a mini conference room, but she knew that the look was purely deceiving as this was an interrogation room. They would debrief her and most likely arrest her when she spilled the beans about Ward being her soul mate. Coulson had her begin by asking her for what basically amounted to her life story. His justification for going so far back was that he was not Director when she was recruited. So she began the arduous task of relaying the entirety of the story from her recruitment by Director Fury when she was only twenty to walking into the abandoned warehouse to meet with Ward.
"When I walked into the rendezvous point Ward was pacing and muttering to himself. When he noticed my presence he launched into what I am disappointed to have to say are my soul mark words." She stopped speaking to allow that to sink in. May immediately sat up straighter, a glower forming on her usually serene face. Coulson merely raised eyebrows at Roberta. She waited for either of them to start in on her in an accusing manner, but neither did. Instead the Director invited her to continue with her description, when she repeated the words and finished relaying the rest of the events that lead her to walking into Shield's garage Coulson asked her, "Emerson, do you mind showing May and myself the soul mark? We need to document it, but if it's in a particularly intimate place we can have a medic do it during your physical," he finished kindly. May still sat stiff, and what appeared to Roberta to be in suspicion.
"Of course," she said as she stood to remove her coat, a blush stealing up her neck and face all the same. She had on a shirt and tank underneath, her blush became deeper as she pulled the shirt over her head. She then pulled the tank off her left shoulder towards her elbow. Picking up a sealed water bottle from the center of the table she dampened a corner of her discarded t-shirt and began to wipe the concealer off the swell of her left breast. Unbearably humiliated at this point she thought, I should have took him up on the offer to have a medic document this. This is way more intimate than I ever wanted to be with anyone. Roberta, though, was not one to allow second guessing to leave her in a moment of indecision and forged on until the skin of breast and chest were red from the scrubbing, the angry scrawl of Ward's soul mark seemed to fit better with the angry look of the blush from her scrubbing and embarrassment than it did when her skin was smooth and clear in normal circumstances. If only tattoos worked to cover soul marks, she thought, not for the first time.
Roberta found that she had never felt so naked before, and couldn't bring herself to display her usual cold defiance to the two strangers across the table from her. So she left her head down, pretending to examine the dirty make up on the t-shirt in her inert hand. Even overcome by her own embarrassment she couldn't bring herself to completely expose her weakness, let them think that she was judging the amount of makeup it took to cover the damned thing and deciding if she should seek out a better brand for her purpose.
It was May who broke the silence this time, her voice calm and steady, holding the serenity her face had lacked as Roberta replayed this part of her mission to the other two Shield agents. "Coulson do you have a picture yet? It's cold in here. I'm sure Emerson would like to put her Jacket back on."
"Almost have it. You can't really breathe while using these damn little things," he replied, his voice was still soft but lacked the mild mannered cover for its steel. "Alright, Agent, you can put the jacket back on. I got a clear shot of it. Let's find Koenig so you can get your lanyard."
With that he and May led the way out of the room as she slipped her Jacket back on. Roberta left the t-shirt in a waste bin, punishing it for failing to keep a secret that could not be kept forever. As she followed them from the room, she considered that at some point the second mark would have to be revealed when they found Ward's second one. Would it be better to tell them before Ward was questioned?