A.N. This chappie will be filled to the brim with fluffiness (Mother/daughter-esque) and action so prepare yourselves! Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers

Chapter 6

Rena's POV

I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder. A feminine voice kept calling out, "Rena…Rena…"

"Mmmm…Mom?" I said with my eyes closed.

The voice chuckled, "No, try a friend of Steve's."

I gently opened my eyes to see the red-headed Natasha sitting in her wheelchair, leaning over me. Moving into a sitting position, I stretched my arms which caused my back to pop rather loudly.

Natasha sighed while shaking her head, "So, Rena, you're stuck with me for today, anything you want to do?"

I yawned and said, "Sleep."

She laughed, "How about something else?"

Being tired really hindered my thinking capacity, seeing how it was only 8 in the morning, "Umm…Maybe go down to a rifle range? Steve and Clint both talked about it, but we've never really had a chance."

She pondered that for a second and concluded with a smirk, "I'll go see what strings I can pull. In the meantime, how about you go get dressed and ready to go."

I nodded affirmatively, as if I was following orders, and walked into my room to get dressed. Once there, I pulled some of the few clothes I had, a black t-shirt that said "This We'll Defend", blue skinny jeans, brown lace-up combat boots, and for the finishing touch, a blue-jean jacket that I may or may not have stolen from Steve's closet. *insert devious smirk here* I washed my face in the bathroom and applied some BB cream and called it good. Heading back to my room, I grabbed a brown hair tie and French braided my hair. After twirling and approving of my appearance, I walked out of my room and sat at the counter, waiting for Natasha.

She wheeled out of Steve's room, arguing on her cell phone. She noticed me and held up one finger as a sign for "hold-on". She continued to argue with the voice on the other line a she put on her black, high-heeled boots.

"It's not like it's going to be the first time! I'll be there to supervise!"

Silence. Natasha rolled her eyes, but wore a secretive smile, a sign she wasn't liking what she was hearing.

"You really think it's her first time? Really?" She countered.

She sighed angrily, that miniscule smile still tattooed on her lips, waiting for a chance to support her side again.

"Steve, think of it as a bonding moment between Rena and I. You said that you wanted me and the other Avengers to be somewhat comfortable around her."

Finally she smiled, a gesture indicating that she got what she wanted.

"Thank you, Steve. I'll call if anything happens." She hung up.

"Ready to go, kid?" She asked.

I nodded, "Whenever you are, Natasha."

She smiled wickedly and said, "Then let's ride."

Once we were in the black sports car and on the road to God knows where, I finally mustered up the courage to ask her a question that was plaguing my mind.

"Natasha," I began.

"Please, call me Nat." She kindly interrupted.

I nodded, "Okay, Nat, how…how would you describe your relationship with my d…Steve?"

She barely smiled, "You mean to ask if I have romantic feelings for Cap?"

I nodded meekly, afraid to make her mad. She was a Russian spy after all.

She laughed dryly, "Well, Rena, I don't know yet. There are feelings, but I haven't categorized them yet."

I shrugged, feeling that that was the closest I would get to an answer. I looked out the window and gazed at the fast-moving scenery. Trees and buildings became blurs as we sped down the streets of D.C. I began to wonder where we were going, I mean, we couldn't go back to the Trileskion, that place was out of commission since the HYDRA fiasco. Then my wondering became spoken words.

"Nat, where exactly are we going?"

"To the shooting range, it's in what you'd call 'the backwoods'." She stated.

I made an 'O' shape with my mouth and nodded.

"Wait," I questioned, "Why are we going so far out? Aren't there places to shoot in D.C.?"

She tightened her grip on her steering wheel just a hare, "I'm not exactly…welcomed in D.C. Besides, you're Captain America's daughter, a prime prize for any kidnapper."

I made my understanding of the new subject clear by saying, "Okay."

She was about to say something to comfort me when suddenly we came to a stop. We were in front of an old wooden cabin way out in the backwoods of Maryland. I looked around at all the towering trees, feeling incredibly small. I witnessed Natasha whip out her phone and dial someone.

When they finally answered, I heard her say, "We're here, are you ready?"

Apparently the other line said yes because she hung up the phone with a smile on her face. I helped her out of the car and wheeled her to the cabin door where she punched a few numbers on a keypad that just appeared on the rust-red door. Soon, the door gave way to a room that did not look like it belonged in a cabin.

My boots thumped against the metallic floor as I walked by Natasha towards the elevators. Once inside, Natasha hit a series of buttons and went through one retinal scan before the elevator began to move to our destination. The elevator was small and circular with no windows, only the silver coloring of the steel and aluminum. We jolted to a stop and the doors opened to reveal a very high-tech shooting range.

"Whoa…just whoa." I exclaimed, "Man, SHIELD does go all-out."

She laughed lightly, "Yeah…well, at they did."

I glanced over in her direction, "You expect me to believe that SHIELD fell with HYDRA? Even after what Fury, who's supposed to be dead, forced my d…Steve into going on a nearly month-long recon mission in Germany that got you in a wheelchair and required Agent Barton, one of the best marksmen I've ever seen, to watch me through this ordeal?"

Nat frowned a little, "You weren't supposed to know where we were going or what we were doing. Who told you?"

I shrugged, "No one, I heard about the sightings of the Winter Soldier in Germany and put the pieces together."

She frowned some more, then changed the subject, "So what do you want to start off with, Rena?"

I looked over the wide variety of weapons in the highly-protected display cases. I kept browsing through them until I saw a bow and arrow.

"Could I start off with the compound bow, please?" I asked politely.

She smirked and typed in a few commands to open the case, "You do realize that Barton will never let your dad live this down once he hears about it."

I tossed my braid over my shoulder, "Oh, I know." I said while smirking.

After putting on the protective eyewear, no doubt a command from Steve, I took my stance on one of the ranges. I notched the arrow and drew it all the way back to my cheek. Keeping my breaths even, I focused on the bull's eye of the target and loosed the arrow. I watched it fly and embed itself into the target with pride pushing my smile wider. I ran down to the other end of the 150 meter hall to find the arrow a few centimeters off of the target. Nonetheless, I smiled and sprinted back to try again and again until I ran out of arrows, each time running down there to see where they landed.

Natasha's POV

My heart swelled with pride as she took to the bow and arrow. I'll admit, I may have snapped a few photos on my phone. After a while, I wheeled over to her and advised her to try some throwing knives and a few pistols. She agreed eagerly, though we quickly found out that throwing knives weren't her thing.

Rena grabbed 3 knives from the case and I already knew that it wouldn't end well. She nearly dropped one on her boot just as she was walking to the other range. I wheeled after her, knowing that there'd be at least one injury I'd have to dress before we'd leave. I watched her from a distance as she took her stance.

"Now hold the knife by the blade." I instructed, "But be very careful."

She nodded and carefully followed my directions.

"Have your hand by your ear, but not too close." I watched as she followed my directions verbatim, "When you're ready to throw, lean into it as you're throwing it, but not too much. That'll keep the knife on target."

"Okay." She said shakily.

I observed as she drew deep breaths and finally threw the knife. However, instead of the perfect bull's eye she expected, the knife barely even hit the target. I disappointment etch itself onto her features as I wheeled over to her.

"That's alright," I stated, observing the target, "We've got time to improve. We all can't be protégés at everything we try."

That seemed to improve her mood by about a fraction.

"Here," I handed her another aerodynamic, black knife. Forgetting about how I was trained to use these knives, "Try again."

Rena looked more determined as I watched her take her stance again and try again. But, I noticed that she held it too close to her face. I tried to warn her, but it was too late. She was already in the action of throwing the knife when the silver edge made a small, but bleeding gash on her right cheek. It didn't seem that she noticed since she just kept going with the last 2 knives. Upon a closer inspection of her face, I noticed that her eyes changed, along with her facial features. Rena looked more angry, but it didn't look like how she' normally look angry. It was like she was a totally different person. Her posture was more open, ready to fight.

Although, her most startling feature were her eyes, they changed color. I'm not talking about a simple shade difference. I'm saying that her eyes used to be a lovely mixture of blue and green, but now they were almost gray!

"Rena," I asked gingerly, "Are you okay?"

By just saying that, her eye color slowly changed back to what it was and her posture snapped back to Rena's norm.

"…Yeah." She said hesitantly.

I breathed a sigh of relief, as if I hadn't just seen what happened, "That's good. C'mon, let's go get you cleaned up. The last thing I need is for Steve to be harping on me for not taking care of you."

She nodded and followed me to the First Aid kit that hung up on the wall. I dug through the contents, finding disinfectant spray and a band aid. She sat down in front of me and I sprayed the wound, causing her to wince.

"Sorry," I apologized, "Forgot to warn you about the sting."

She nervously laughed, "It's alright. Nothing I can't handle."

"Atta' girl." I praised as I covered the slash with the bandage, "And we're good to go."

She smiled and thanked me.

"Now, do you want to move onto the pistols or go back home?" I asked.

She yawned, "Could we go home, Nat? I'm kind of tired."

I smiled and nodded, "Of course. We can always come back some other time."

We went back inside the elevator and exited the cabin to get inside the car. The long ride back to the apartment was silent, neither one of us wanting to start a conversation. She because she was too engrossed in the mark on her cheek and I because of what I saw. All that we heard was the hum of the engine and the occasional honking from cars passing by.

When we reach the apartment, Rena excuses herself to the bathroom to see if she can make the wound look not as bad as it is. I waited until her door was shut to whip out my phone and all Clint, the only other person besides Steve that watched over her.

After 3 tones, he finally picked up, "Nat?"

"Are you alone?" I asked, skipping the pleasantries.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" He inquired.

"When you babysat Rena," I stated, making sure the bathroom door was still shut, "Did anything seem off to you?"

I could practically see him shaking his head, "Nothing out of the ordinary, just hated to sit by the window in the living room. What happened, Natasha?"

"Did her eyes ever change color?" I asked, ignoring his question.

"What? No! Why would that happen? Natasha, what the hell happened?" He spluttered.

I sighed, still making sure the door remained shut, "I took Rena out to the range today… she was at the throwing knives station when she cut her cheek. Instead of dropping the knife, she threw the other 2 that she had."

"Alright." Clint said, goading me to continue.

"But when I went over to check on her, her posture changed into an almost fighting stance and her eye color changed to gray! Clint, did any of this happen while Steve and I were away?"

"No…" he said softly, "But have you talked to Steve about it?"

"Planning on it once she falls asleep." I stated. "But I have a feeling I know what it is."

I heard him sigh on the other end, "Nat…I think we all do."

"I got to go, bye Clint." I hung up unceremoniously.

I saw her walk out of the bathroom with a new bandage on her cheek. She walked into the kitchen with a smile on her face.

"You want something to eat?" She asked as she stuck her head in the fridge, "I have cold pizza, smoothies, and…some stuff in Tupperware that I think is safe to eat."

I chuckled, "No thanks, Rena. I'll grab something later."

"Okay." She said as she grabbed some cold pizza and munched on it while sitting on the counter.

Later that Night.

I insisted that Rena slept on her bed tonight, telling her that sleeping on a couch was bad for her back and etc. Finally she caved, but for only one night she told me as she sleepily dragged herself to her bed.

I sat in my chair in the living room, tapping my fingers against the arm rests impatiently. Finally the door began to unlock, signaling that Steve was home. I saw him walk in drearily and hang his coat on the rack. Although, his attitude seemed to change once he saw me.

"Nat, what are you doing up? Shouldn't you be asleep?" He asked.

"It's only 11 o'clock, soldier." I joked, but then my tone turned serious, "But in all seriousness, I need to talk to you."

He sat down on the couch with a really worried look on his face, "What wrong? Is it Rena?"

I gestured to the open door of her room, silently saying I wanted to go someplace private to discuss.

He seemed to understand as he wheeled me to his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Steve slumped down on his bed, even more worried, "Natasha, what's wrong? Please tell me you and Rena didn't fight."

That was unexpected, the one thing he was most worried outside of her safety was that Rena and I got along. It was…really cute and admirable.

I shook my head, clearing those thoughts away, "No, Rena and I get along just fine. It's just…something happened at the range. And before you start worrying, Rena isn't seriously injured, just a small gash on her cheek that will heal within a few weeks."

He exhaled shakily, "Just a small gash." He mumbled.

I rolled my eyes, "Steve, I'm sure she'll live. Anyways, that's not the most surprising thing that happened."

All the color drained from his face, "W-What happened to my daughter?"

Drawing in a deep breath, I began the story, "I instructed her on how to use throwing knives at the range. The 2nd time she threw it, she held it too close to her face, hence the gash. However, she seemed unfazed since she threw the other 2 like it never happened. I wheeled over to check on her to notice that her posture went from being sort of closed in to completely open, like how one would be when preparing for a fight. In addition, her eyes went from a bluish-green tint to an almost stark gray. When I asked if she was alright, she changed back like nothing ever happened." I stopped to let the facts sink in with Steve. I placed my well-manicured hand over his calloused one, "Steve…as much as I'd abhor to say this, I believe Rena has multiple personalities."

He didn't say anything for a while and just at the wood flooring. I kept my hand there, ignoring my instincts yelling at me about how I was getting to close to him.

"What do I do?" He asked, voice cracking.

I shook my head, "I don't know, Steve. I believe she has a pretty good handle on it. Personally, I'd talk to her about, not tonight or tomorrow, but soon. She may not even be aware of it! Also, don't let this affect your relationship with her. You still need to be the dad she needs and you need her."

He shot me a small smile and softly asked, "How did you know what to say?"

I smiled genuinely, "I had a good teacher."

I leaned up, using the bed for support, and kissed his cheek, "I'll let you get some sleep."

Beginning to wheel out of the room, Steve stopped me.

"No, Nat, take my bed. I'll take the couch."

I laughed with disbelief, "Steve, I don't know if you notice, but you won't fit on that couch."

He shrugged, "I'll fit."

I shook my head, "No, I can't take your bed."

"And I can't let you sleep on the couch in your condition." He countered.

Before I could say anything, Steve picked me up from my chair and tucked me into his king-sized bed.

"G'night, Nat." He said before he kissed my forehead and left the room, turning off the light as he exited.

I stuck my tongue out at him before accepting my fate and falling asleep in the layers of cloth that smelled like him.