Author's Note: Okay, judging by the reception of the last chapter, you guys (or at least one rather perceptive reader) know what's coming. I just really hope I don't mess up the big reveal! Read and review, pretty please!

"Trescott?" Phil said as I walked up to him in the mess hall. He was sitting alone today; again.

"Hey!" I sat down next to him and plunked my tray down. It was chili day today, and Gladys, the lunch lady, always snuck a bit of extra cayenne into my bowl.

"Is there a reason why you're sitting next to me?" He asked.

"Why so suspicious? You're my buddy! A girl can sit with her buddies, right?"

"Well, gee, don't you think your boyfriend will be lonely?" He gestured with his head to Bruce, who was sitting with Natasha and Clint, the only other Avengers who actually live on the helicarrier. He turned to look at me and smiled, motioning me over to their table. I held up a finger to signal that I just needed one moment. He nodded and turned back. "What do you want?" Phil asked. I sighed.

"I need to get to Texas."

"That's a pretty hefty request."

"Yeah. I know."

"Why don't you ask Fury about this? You know he's the one in charge of transportations around here."

"I would, but we're not exactly on the best of terms at the moment."

"Yeah, I heard. Sorry, about that, by the way."

"Yeah. Thanks." He didn't mean it, but his pity wasn't exactly the most comforting thing in the world. "Please Phil? You're my only friend on this flying piece of junk besides Bruce. Can you put in a good word?" He sighed.

"Alright, alright." I grinned, and threw my arms around him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you! You won't regret this, I promise!" I stood up to go sit with Bruce.

"Wendy?" Phil said after me. Huh… he'd never called me Wendy before. Only Trescott.

"Yeah?" I said, turning.

"You've got more friends on the helicarrier than you think. Just remember that, alright?" I smiled and nodded as I walked away to join Bruce at the table. Phil always had been into that happy, lovey friendship stuff. I sat down with my lunch.

"Hey!" Bruce said. "You decided to join us!" I nodded. He kissed me, and pulled back in shock.

"H-hot!" He stuttered.

"Awww, am I really that stunning?" I said, grinning. Then I realized. "Oh, I'm sorry! You know I like my chili extra spicy!"

"It's okay." He grinned sheepishly, taking a swig of water. "What were you doing with Coulson, anyway?"

"Just asking a favor."

Two hours later, there I was, sitting in a helicopter headed for Texas. The blades whirred as they started up and took off, and I saw Phil waving me off through the window. Out of the corner of my eye, there was another figure; Fury was leaned against a wall, watching me leave. Damn, that guy could be creepy.

I was dropped off just outside my dad's house, a little cabin so far out in the middle of nowhere it looked like the Navajo.

"Do you know when you'll be back?" The pilot asked as I jumped out.

"Um, I dunno, I could be a while." I said in all honesty. He nodded.

"Just use the comm when you need a lift back." I nodded back, and started on my way to the house. I was bracing myself for the change, the inevitable total makeover that came with the money my dad must've made since I left, but the place still looked as old and beat up as ever. It was a ratty old one-story house, with a loose screen door and two boarded-up windows. Nothing had changed. Except for the helicopter sitting on a pad outside the house, that is. I was about to knock on the door when I noticed dad had bought a doorbell since the last time I was here. I pressed the button, and heard the ringing inside. Then some shuffling. And the door opened.

"Wendy?" He questioned, a smile spreading across his face.

"Dad?" I was as confused as he was. The house hadn't changed… but he sure had. His hair was almost all gray, and cut short above his ears. He had grown a beard, too, big and bushy, and there was a new scar; a long, vertical stripe over his left eye, which was as blue as ever. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a leather jacket. And where was the beer belly? The dad I knew looked like he ate a diet of donuts and Pepsi. The man I saw now… he was fit. Hell, he was ripped!

"Well, what brings you here?" He was smiling ear-to-ear now, talking with a Texan accent even stronger than mine. "Come on in, come on in!" He motioned me inside. The interior of the house, at least, hadn't changed. Even the furniture was the same. And the smell… warm and musty. In a good way. "Well, sit your arse down!" I obeyed, sitting down in an old floral-print arm chair. He sat down in the chair across from me.

"It's been a long time." I said.

"Well, that it has." An awkward silence. "Is there a reason why you're here?" I opened my mouth to talk, but he interrupted me. "Come on now, ah know yer not here just to visit yer ol' pa." I smiled. He always could read me like a book.

"Yeah, there's a reason." I said, slowly letting my accent leak back into my voice. "But let's not talk about that right now, alright? We've got some catchin' up to do." He smiled again.

"You sit there. I'll get ya some sweet tea." He stood up and headed toward the kitchen. While he was in there, I couldn't help it; there was something I was absolutely curious about. I stood up and walked around the corner to the door that I knew held the den. That was where the gun cabinet was. I opened the door, and stepped back quickly. "Ya found it, didya?" I heard dad from behind me. I whirled around to see him standing there, holding the sweet-tea. "Yeah, ah made some, ahem, modifications to the gun cabinet. Ya like?" He stepped in and gestured around the room, nearly spilling the tea. Modifications was an understatement. The whole den… he'd converted it into an armory. I stepped in and looked around, gawping at his selection. Guns, rifles, grenades… then my eyes fell on something truly beautiful. I rushed over to a huge metal contraption in the corner of the room.

"You've got an anti-aircraft cannon?!" I squeaked, running my hands over its cool metal barrel.

"Yup!" He said proudly. "Handheld!"

"You're kiddin' me. Do ya know how strong you'd have ta be to-" He cut me off when he walked over, and picked the thing up with one hand. My jaw hit the ground.

"What're you gawpin' at?" He said, chuckling. "Here, have a go." He put the cannon down, and let me have a try at lifting it. It wouldn't budge.

"How the hell…?" I questioned.

"Yer ol' pa's been workin' out!" He laughed, flexing his muscles jokingly. Then his face softened, and he took off his jacket, and pulled up his sleeve. Nothing wrong so far, I thought as I viewed his arm. But wait… there were no scars. That's when he grabbed ahold of the skin on his shoulder, and pulled it down his arm like a sock, revealing wires, gears and other assorted machinery.

"You're a cyborg." I said in disbelief. He nodded. "How did I not notice!?" I shouted, eyes wide at the spectacle in front of me.

"Hey, you were raised with the real arm. Ah got this'un two years ago, after a job went south. it's quality, too; yer buddy Stark engineered it."

"How can you even afford StarkTech technology?" I looked around me at the armory. "Oh yeah. Bounty hunter." He nodded again. "What is this, pa? You, your arm, the den… everything's changed."

"You were away a long while. A lot changes in ten years." Of course. I don't know why I didn't see it.

"Ah'm sorry ah left." I said. "Ah just… needed ta find my place in the world."

"An' ah guess that place just wasn't here with me, huh?" He smiled sadly. "C'mon. Let's enjoy the tea while it's cold." We spent the next hour or so just sitting and talking in the living room, laughing about old times.

"So, ah hear you got yer hands on a chopper?" I said.

"Thas' right!" He said proudly. "She's right outside. Beautiful piece 'o work, she is."

"She?" I laughed.

"Yeah, she! Just like with you an' that Cassie." I smiled. "She still goin' strong?"

"Yeah. Even after all these years."

"Ah remember yer face when you saw her under the tree." We both had a good laugh, and he settled back down into his chair. "So. You gonna tell me why yer here?" He said. I took a deep breath.

"Ah need ta ask you about my ma." I said. He sighed.

"Ah knew you'd come askin' about her one day." He stood up. "Ah need a drink." He said, shuffling into the kitchen and coming back with a bottle of whiskey.

"This isn't the time to drink."

"This is exactly the time ta drink." He said. He took a swig. And started talking. "Yer ma was a woman named Charlotte. Her maiden name was Vanderburg. Never did give it up, neither, even after we married." I tensed. Somehow I had been expecting this, but it still hurt. "Now, yer ma was a wonderful woman. Beautiful. Kind. But somethin' was always off about her. She'd disappear, sometimes for hours, days on end. Ah'd hear her talkin' to herself, sometimes. When she thought ah couldn't hear. But people always seemed ta love 'er; she'd have anyone she talked to hangin' off her ev'ry word. And when you were six years old, that's when I found out; about her power. She could-" I cut him off.

"Manipulate people's minds. Crawl inside your head and use you like a puppet." He looked surprised.

"How'd you…?"

"Remember ah told you I'm workin' for S.H.I.E.L.D?" He nodded. "We're fightin' her. She's the enemy right now." He took a deep breath.

"This ain't good for an old man's heart." He said, tipping the bottle back again. I looked pointedly at the bottle. "Yeah, ah get yer point." He put the bottle down on the coffee table. "So tha's how you found out?"

"Ah was in her house. Her lair, ah guess. ah found a file. Full 'o stuff about me. Pictures, records, essays from middle school." He nodded.

"Say whatcha like about yer ma, she loved you to pieces. That was the problem." I cocked my head curiously. "One day, ah found out she'd been usin' her power. Usin' it fer you. If ya go back, there was a time in kindergarten when ya got nothin' but straight A's. She was manipulatin' the teachers. Ah put my foot down. Ah said you had to be makin' yer own way in the world. An' that was when she left. A few months later, ah get the mornin' paper and whaddyou know, she's on the front page. Got 'erself killed tryin' to take over the country, of all things. The worst part was, ah saw it comin'. Ah'm just glad ah got her outta the house before she really hurt you."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I choked them back.

"Aw, hun, ah'm sorry. You just seemed so happy, just you and me. Ah didn't think ya needed to know." The conversation could have gone on for hours more. But that's when I got a call on the comm.

"Wendy?" Phil's voice came in.

"Yeah, what is it?" I said, an edge to my voice. Part of me didn't want to hurt Phil, but an even bigger part wanted to make him pay for what he was interrupting. I heard him gulp.

"We need you back. More specifically, we need the helicopter back." I thought a moment.

"Ah could stay." I said, half to Phil, half to my pa.

"No." My pa said, standing up. "You've got a life beyond me, ah know. You need ta get back to it." There was a pause. And then I said into the comm;

"I'll be back in an hour or so, Phil."

"Alright, Wendy." He blipped out. I hugged my pa, and said goodbye. As I was walking out the door, he shouted after me;

"Say thanks to Stark fer the arm!" I waved goodbye as I walked to the chopper, making a mental resolution to do exactly as he said, whether Stark knew what I was talking about or not. I climbed into the chopper.

"Hey." I said to the pilot, my twinge safely tucked away yet again. "Sorry for leaving you so long."

"No problem." He started up the engine, and we flew back. That night I lay in my bed trying to get to sleep. No dice. I just couldn't stop thinking. What did it mean? Was I just another pawn in Charlotte's game? Did Fury know already? And what else was there to Charlotte he wasn't telling us? I didn't sleep that night.