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Katie Moon: I'm glad you liked the action! There's more in this chapter!
Sad rad fish: I'm glad you liked it! I tried to make it as realistic as possible
Kirokat: Thor is a giant teddy bear and that's the only way I'll see him haha. And yeah, Saniya definitely warms up to Bruce. You're right, he's too adorable to be stalker bait haha.
"Slow down, slow down, slow down, FOR GOD'S SAKE SLOW DOWN!"
The car whipped around the bend, moving closer to the red dot on the phone. Clint and Saniya screamed at the top of their lungs as the vehicle teetered on its wheels. Natasha clenched her fist around the door handle. She closed her eyes until the car was steady again.
Saniya slammed the gas pedal down again, zooming past an elderly couple.
"CAR!"
She swerved just in time. The green station wagon blared its horn and Saniya stuck up her middle finger.
Clint gripped his seat belt with white knuckles. His face turned pale when Natasha told Saniya to make another turn. Everything in the car shifted dangerously to the right.
"TREE!"
Saniya resisted smacking him. "I SEE IT!" she yelled back.
The car straightened itself out and sped down the narrow street. Natasha's phone made a loud beep. They were getting closer. The assassin, not as overtly perturbed with Saniya's driving, reloaded her guns.
"Where am I dropping you guys off?" Saniya asked, forcing her voice calmer than before.
Natasha raised an eyebrow. "You're not. Keep driving."
For the first time in the whole car chase, she hit the brakes. Clint smacked into the back of her seat. Saniya shook her head. "I'm not getting anywhere near this woman," she protested.
Clint rubbed his forehead. "She's getting away. Pedal to the metal!"
The car remained at a full stop. Her heart, which was supposed to be in her chest, rose into her throat, almost strangling her. "No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!" She cupped her face in her hands. "I don't want to! This whole thing freaks me out."
Natasha placed a hand on her shoulder. "We need your help," she said softly. "You'll be a hero if you do this."
Her nails dug into the steering wheel. "I don't want to be a hero," she whined. "I just want to be alive!"
The hand on her shoulder tightened as a reminder of the dangerous situation they were in. "She won't get near you," Natasha said, grinding her teeth a little. "Clint and I will blow out her tires, she'll stop, then we'll take her down. You can stay in the car the entire time. She won't get away this time."
Saniya removed her hands, staring at her with wide eyes. "This time? She beat you guys in the hotel, didn't she? What if she does it again?" The assassin, the Black Widow, lost against this woman. If Saniya went against her, there would be no chance for survival. And if the best of the best couldn't beat her, she doubted anyone could. Saniya almost put the car in reverse.
Natasha pulled her closer by the collar of her shirt. The fabric dug into the soft skin of her neck. "She had surprise and a bomb on her side. We have to upper hand now." The steel in her eyes only grew more determined. "People will get hurt if we don't stop her now."
Clint nodded. "We'll keep you safe."
And, as bad as it felt to admit it, that was the only thing that mattered to her. Not the people the woman might hurt next but that she was safe.
But Clint wasn't Bruce. She couldn't believe everything he said. There wasn't the trust that every word that came out of his mouth was the truth. They were spies; their job was to lie. If it was a lie, it was an effective one. Saniya wasn't sure if was making a horrible mistake.
She slammed the gas pedal, almost smirking at the thump of Natasha catching her body against the dashboard. The assassin glared but didn't say anything.
The next couple of turns were spent in eerie silence. Clint did a remarkably good job at keeping his yells at a minimum, only sometimes pointing out when she should brake. Then she spotted the car driving normally through the streets. If she didn't remember what their car looked like, she would have suspected nothing.
Natasha leaned out the window and fired her gun. She swore in Russian as the bullet missed its mark. The black vehicle began to speed up. Saniya struggled between keeping the car steady and matching the other car's speed.
Clint leaned out his window. "Let the marksman work his magic," he bragged. Staying true to his name, Hawkeye nailed the back two tires with his arrows.
His arrows snapped as the car continued driving, but his quality arrowhead stayed embedded in the tire. A second later, the arrowhead flashed red and exploded in a puff of smoke. The rubber began to peel off in chunks. Immediately, the person in the other car jerked their steering wheel. The car skid across the pavement, right into a large tree with a sickening crunch.
Saniya brought the car to a stop. Before they were completely braked, though, Natasha and Clint jumped from the vehicle. The woman behind the murders burst from the wrecked vehicle with a machine gun, unfazed by the crash. Saniya ducked in her seat as far as she could go.
Suddenly, there was the rhythmic sound of bullets shooting from the machine gun. The windows shattered into shards of glass over Saniya's head.
There was a long moment of silence. Natasha and Clint were dead. What was she going to do now?
"Cut her off!" Clint yelled to Nat.
"Got it!"
Her hand flew to her heart. Okay, so they weren't dead like she previously thought. Their footsteps grew fainter until she could no longer hear their shoes slap against pavement. Saniya risked a peek to see a red blur disappear in the forest.
The weight of her gun on her waist made her realize that she wasn't as helpless as she led herself to believe. She placed it on the seat next to her, staring at it. She could help out. She had the weapon for it. Steve would if he were her. He was a hero, and she obviously wasn't since she wasn't rushing to bring down one of the worst criminals in Europe.
Then again, it was unfair to compare herself to an Avenger. But considering the profession she was forced into, maybe she needed to be more heroic.
She clasped her hands together and looked towards the sky. "Thor? I don't know if you're listening, but I might be murdered today. If I am, can you give me a cool Asgardian funeral? Only you, Marsha, and Bruce are invited." She paused for a moment. "Maybe Natasha and Clint too, depending on if it's their fault I'm killed or not." Saniya looked at the sky watching for... something, anything to show that her best friend had heard her. Nothing. Not even the slightest flicker of lightning.
All alone.
There was an uncomfortable shift in her thoughts. Being left alone in Stark tower and stranded in the middle of a street were completely different things. If Natasha and Clint were killed, then she would truly be alone.
Alone, alone, alone, alone.
Why was she so worried about them? They were trained for these sort of situations. Despite knowing this, her mind clouded her with thoughts of being alone, not only with a murderer but unable to find her way back to her sister and friends. She needed Natasha and Clint, and she'd be damned if they were killed.
In an act of pure stupidity, which was becoming more common to her dismay, she took the safety off her gun and dashed into the woods.
She decided that she would only make sure they were okay. Capturing this cross-continent murderer was the last thing on her priority list.
Clint had taught her a bit about guns. She was nowhere near pro-status, but she enough to get by. Saniya knew to stay low and keep her gun in front of her, but that was common sense. Her eyes jumped to any sort of movement, prepared to blow its head off.
"You're a warrior, Lady Saniya. You can defeat any threat that comes your way."
Even in his absence, Thor managed to comfort her. And if a Norse god had faith in her, she should believe in herself a tiny bit more than she did.
There was a feminine cry of pain and Saniya burst into a run. Her collar bone stung like it was pricked by a needle.
The three of them were in a clearing of farmland. Natasha was crouched behind a wheelbarrow and Clint behind a small stone wall. A woman with long black hair returned fire from behind a wide tree. There was bright red blood on her hands and a long streak going down on the front of her shirt.
Saniya met her eyes and froze. Even from the long distance, they were pitch black like two holes. She screamed as the woman raised the machine gun in her direction and pulled the trigger.
Everything froze, her scream nearly tangible in the still air. A round of bullets sat in the air, red hot and inches from her body. The space between her rib cage fluttered violently, knocking against organs. It was a tug, much like when she jumped off buildings, but was continuous and pulling on her bones like a rabid dog.
She tripped as she moved out of the way. The second she face-planted in the dirt, the bullets whizzed past. The woman's anguished bellow was enough motivation to make her dive over the wall Clint was hiding behind. Immediately, she curled into a tight ball.
This was exactly why she didn't want to leave the car in the first place.
Clint gripped her shoulder. When she didn't react, he shook her whole body. She forced herself to look up at him. "Are you shot?"
Saniya shook her head slightly, still in shock from what happened.
He furrowed his brows. "Don't freeze up on me. Let me check."
"I said I wasn't," she said with a bit of bite behind her words, but she put Clint's mind at ease by untangling her limbs to reveal an unbloodied body.
"Barton!" Natasha shouted.
"She's fine!" he replied. "Just shaken up!"
"That wasn't what I was yelling about! She's running!"
The woman was sprinting into the woods with a quick glance at Saniya, her eyes not quite as coal black as before. Clint swore and ran after her, Natasha close behind. Learning from her mistakes, Saniya stayed behind.
I am such an idiot. What was I thinking running after them?
She rose slowly. Her whole body shook. She almost died, all because she was too afraid of being alone. How pathetic was that? She didn't even have an honorable reason for running into the woods, like protecting innocents or to bring down the mighty hammer of justice. No, she just didn't want to be alone. The worst part about all this was that she didn't help Natasha and Clint one bit. She just made a fool of herself.
The walk back was at a much slower pace with the same amount of paranoia. Several squirrels came close to being blown into pieces whenever she heard the slightest noise.
Hidden underneath some branches and between a dense set of trees was a car. Seeing it in the first place was a miracle, especially for her. Its metal was a dull black and had a thin layer of dirt, but there wasn't a single scratch to be seen. To waste some time, Saniya walked over to the vehicle.
She tried the door handle and it flew open. Saniya sat in the driver's seat. The leather seat was cool under her body. Right as she was about to pull down the visor on the car, she crinkled her nose. It smelt like something was rotting.
Saniya glanced in the back seat. There was nothing but a suitcase of clothes, reminding her that this was someone else's car. She almost gagged from the scent oozing from the back of the car. It really smelt like a dead body.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she opened the trunk. The scream she let loose —though not as impressive as when the machine gun shot at her— tore through her throat like nails. In the trunk was a man staring at her with glassy eyes.
This was the second of many corpses she would see.
Seeing the mangled man with bugs digging into his rotten flesh brought back the memory of Christopher putting a bullet between Natasha's eyes. Sure, her death was only temporary, but Saniya remembered her laying on the floor, void of life.
No matter how good you are, you can be killed.
This man was murdered by someone. The spray of blood across the felt was evidence of that. Natasha was killed by someone even though she is one of the most skilled spies in the world. Saniya would be killed, given her newfound career path, it was bound to happen that way.
And with this new truth, she hastily made her way to the woods with a tight grip on her gun. There was no more shooting, just Clint letting out a string of swears. She found out the reason when she came to the road and saw the car they arrived in not there anymore.
Whoops. She was pretty sure she left it running, giving the woman a perfect escape.
Natasha removed the phone from the side of her head. "I rerouted the SHIELD car to our new location. We'll have one in twenty minutes."
Clint scowled. "We had her. We almost had her. Damn girl is fast."
Saniya placed her gun back in its holster. There was no need for it anymore. She pointed towards the woods. "There's a body back there," she said, though not sure what she expected the agents to do.
"Did she do it?" Clint asked.
"What? How am I supposed to know if that crazy person killed him? It looks... old if that means anything."
Natasha sighed with an air of frustration to her elegant form. "I suppose we have time before the car arrives."
They followed her back to the spot where she saw the car and the body. She was still in a daze from what she saw, but she was slowly regaining her grip on reality. This man needed to be put to rest somewhere other than a trunk. Preferably a graveyard. And since she was the one to find him, it was part of her duty to do so. Natasha and Clint would know what to do next. They could contact Italian officials and find his family. She was sure they could do so with the connections they had.
All her hopes were crushed when Clint stood before it with his hands on his hips. "Yep. That's a dead body." He tapped Natasha on the arm. "Let's go."
"What?" Saniya exclaimed. She slammed her hand on the hood of the car. "Aren't you going to do anything about him?"
Natasha's eyes flickered between the trunk and her. "Saniya, what do you want us to do?"
"Call someone! ID him!" She stomped her foot. "Don't just walk away!"
Clint folded his arms. "We came to track that woman and we need to finish our job. We'll call the Italian officials when we get back to the house." His head tilted. "You know, he's not going anywhere. He can wait until we get back to Nat's safehouse."
Saniya faltered. "I... you're right," she begrudgingly conceded. Saniya dragged her foot in a circle in front of her. "I'd feel better if you called them now."
Natasha and Clint shared a look before she shrugged. "I'll call," she volunteered. Because there was better phone service on the road, she left Clint and Saniya alone with the car.
Saniya stared at the back of the trunk. The metal door was lifted up, blocking her view of the body, thankfully. She'd puke if she saw him again.
She didn't want to leave him, the body, alone. It felt wrong, considering how long he had been in the trunk. He was dead and by himself, something Saniya almost was today. She sympathized with him, strangely seeing herself in the pile of decaying flesh and bones. Someday, when she was in his place, she'd want someone to take care of her body. Maybe helping this guy out would give her good karma to ensure she wouldn't be left to rot in the middle of nowhere.
Clint tapped the hood of the car. "So, you think you'd be able to get this beauty started Grand Theft Auto style? Maybe we can still catch up to her."
Her hands found their way into her jacket as she shrugged. "Newer cars are harder to hot wire. I'm not good enough."
"Doesn't hurt to try." Her eyes drifted back to the trunk. Clint placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about him right now. Just, come on."
He got in the passenger and let out a low whistle. His hands ran appreciatively along the leather and dashboard. Saniya was not so eager to get in the car because chances were it belonged to the person in the trunk. Still, she sat on the leather with her body folded in on herself as much as she could. The less she touched, the cleaner she felt.
"Look for some keys," she told him. "Once I start cutting wires, there's no going back."
Clint popped open the glove compartment while Saniya flipped down the visor. A small strip of paper fluttered down.
"What's that?"
Saniya folded it neatly and slipped it in her pocket. He didn't care much for the man in the trunk, not like she did. He didn't deserve to see it. "Paper," she replied with a clipped tone.
Clint moved his search to the back seat, opening a suitcase and ruffling through clothes. It struck her odd as he pulled out a bra and set it behind him, but she had no right to judge the dead man's lifestyle. She bent down to look under the seat. Stacked on top of each other were a bunch of letters stored in separate envelopes.
It was hypocritical for her to steal them since only moments ago she thought she was trespassing by getting in the man's car. But, she was curious. If she was honest about herself, she was acting almost obsessive with the man. Bruce would classify this as her reacting to the shock or coping badly with the situation. But Bruce wasn't there to tell her that, so she stashed the paper and the letters in the jacket, intending to read them later.
She completely forgot about finding the keys until Clint said he couldn't find them.
"Maybe they're..." Her voice drifted off. Maybe they're on the body. She smacked her palms on her knees. "Eh, guess we'll have to wait for the SHIELD car. There's no way I'll be able to start up a car this new."
Clint's nose wrinkled. His thoughts were in the same place she was and he was just as displeased about the idea. "Are you... okay?"
Her eyes were burning, coming close to full out tears. All she wanted to do was go back to New York and sleep for a week.
"Hey, hey, don't cry," Clint amended. His hands were out in front of him as if he wasn't sure what to do with them.
Saniya sniffled. "It's just been such a stressful week." She dug her nails into her legs. "I know I've been a wet blanket lately. I just really hate this trip and entire situation."
The sides of his lips threatened to pull into a smile, but he stayed serious for her sake. "Trust me, you've let us know." Clint slid out of his seat and walked to her side of the car. He held out his arm like men did in old time movies when they were escorting a woman. "To be honest, bringing you along might not have been my best idea. Agent Musa wouldn't have been able to take you so you had to come with us."
She slipped her elbow around his as he pulled her to her feet. "Where is Agent Musa?"
"She trains a whole bunch of other agents so she's been busy with that." He looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Y'know, it might be best if you don't tell her about this whole trip. It doesn't exactly fit into her strict training schedule."
"No promises," she teased.
When they returned to the safe house, it was almost dinner time, which says a lot since the typical Italian family eats dinner around eight.
Signora Arlotti fluttered around the kitchen like a butterfly with a broken wing. It was clear that she was having trouble doing the simplest of things so Marsha took over most of the cooking. She stirred a spoon in a large pot of soup, lifting it up to Signora's lips to taste.
The elderly woman smiled with delight and said something in Italian. It had to be good because she was radiating with excitement. From what Clint and Natasha told her, Signora Arlotti didn't get visitors often
"She says that dinner's almost ready. Marsha's been a good helper," Natasha translated. Her eyes flickered to the pocket where she stashed the envelopes. Right when Saniya thought she was going to say something, Natasha joined Signora Arlotti in the kitchen.
The whole dinner was spent with Signora Arlotti, Marsha, Clint, and Natasha speaking in Italian. Saniya slurped her soup, strangely not feeling the urge of getting her fill of attention. The day's events wore her out and for once she couldn't make herself speak. Every letter in her pocket was a hundred pound weight reminding her of everything that happened.
Her stomach recoiled as a flash of the mangled body flashed before her eyes. She stood up abruptly, her chair scooting back loudly. All eyes turned to her increasingly paling face.
"Sorry, I feel... I can't eat anymore." Saniya excused herself from the table. Signora Arlotti eyed her half full bowl of soup with droopy eyes, but she couldn't bring herself to drink the rest. Natasha muttered something to the elderly woman, most likely an apology on her behalf for rushing off during dinner.
She left the house completely. And since she didn't know anywhere else to go, she sat on the cliff. The earth was suitable company here as it vibrated with life.
In the small sliver of light shining from the slide through the glass door, she pulled out the letters and slip of paper. Saniya angled the slip so she could see the dark scrawls of pen. At the top of the page was the word bahana.
Or was it banana? No, bahana felt right, especially after she recognized the Hindi symbol next to the phonetic spelling. In the top left corner written in chicken scratches was the word 'sister'. In fact, the whole page was covered in the word 'sister' in different languages.
Saniya then tore open a letter. Then another. Then another. All of them started with 'My dearest Indali' and ended with 'Sincerely, Christopher'. Unfortunately, she couldn't snoop any further than that. Everything between the greeting and closing was written in what she assumed to be Hindi.
She nearly dropped everything off the cliff when she read the names Saniya and Aghamarshana written around the edges of some of the letters. Sometimes with English letters and others in Hindi, over and over again like a mantra.
"What the—"
"Saniya?" Marsha crept carefully up to her, wiggling her toes in the grass. Her eyes spotted the letters and the paper in her hand. "What is that?"
There was a brief moment when she considered balling it up and tossing it off the edge, but instead, she handed it to Marsha. "I found it in the woods," Saniya told her, purposefully keeping the dead body out of the explanation.
Her eyes grew wide until she shoved the paper and letters back. She wrapped her arms around her legs. "Don't try to scare me. Please don't."
Saniya showed her the letters. "I'm not, I promise." All it took was the words 'I promise' to make Marsha believe her. "They were in a car with a... man in the trunk. I thought these were his, but now I don't know. I have no idea how he could have known and I really doubt it's a coincidence."
"It could be," Marsha suggested weakly. "I don't know how common our names are in Europe, but it could happen." Her feet dragged against the carpeted earth. "Does Nat and Clint know about this?"
She frowned. "No." Marsha glanced back at the house. The assassins were close enough for her to call out and show them. "But I don't want to. I trust them —kind of— but I don't trust them to not tell SHIELD."
"But isn't SHIELD the good guy? They can help us figure this out."
Saniya held back a snort. "You don't believe that after everything SHIELD has done to us, right?" Marsha didn't answer and Saniya began feeling more scared of her sister's answer than she expected. "Right?"
Her head bowed. "Natasha and Clint are a part of it, so SHIELD can't be too bad. Everything isn't black or white," she argued softly. Marsha dropped her gaze to the letters. "Do you know how to read Hindi?"
"No. I only know ten words that are not useful in this situation."
Marsha nodded. "My parents never learned even though they went on five mission trips to India. I wish they had."
Saniya saw the tremor of fear through Marsha's body. She felt it through the earth like a string attached between their bodies. Marsha was scared of what those letters meant and Saniya was too, but she was willing to do all the worrying for them both. So, she faked a smile and told a tough lie. Marsha had enough on her mind. It wasn't right to add one more thing. Besides, maybe it was a coincidence and nothing to be afraid of.
"I'm sorry." Marsha's head shot up. "I lied. I made these letters. It was a lot funnier in my head."
Her bottom lip trembled then held still. A deep frown carved its way on her face. "You really scared me," she confessed. Marsha sounded almost angry, but all frustrations hid behind her sweet forgiveness. "I forgive you, but why would you do that?"
"Because I'm a mean person who doesn't deserve to have you as a sister."
Marsha gasped. "That's not true." Her hand gripped hers. "You're not mean and you're a good sister. Just maybe... not the best sister right now for scaring me like that." She laughed nervously. "I really thought there was someone out there writing our names over and over. How creepy is that?"
"Super creepy," Saniya deadpanned. She stood up despite her body crying to lie against the magic grass. With her, she pulled Marsha to her feet. "Will you help me apologize to Signora Arlotti for skipping out on dinner?"
She nodded. "Of course. She'll understand. I spent the whole day with her and she's a very nice woman."
And so she was, forgiving Saniya almost as quickly as Marsha had. She was beginning to think that all this kindness shown to her was only temporary.
Message Sent at 11:43 PM:
Yo, can you translate some things for me when we get back? It's in Hindi
Bruce Banner — Received at 11:47 PM:
What sort of things?
Message Sent at 11:48 PM:
Tell you in person. Please don't tell anyone
Bruce Banner — Received at 11:53 PM:
Are you in trouble?
Message Sent at 11:54 PM:
Not yet
Her phone buzzed with several texts after her mysterious message but decided it was best to be ambiguous. It wasn't that she didn't trust Bruce, it was that she didn't trust that either of their phones weren't bugged.
To keep him from worrying, she sent one last text.
Message Sent at 11:57:
I'm fine. Clint and Natasha will keep us safe.
She felt weird. She wanted to talk to someone about the letters. Desperately.
Marsha was not an option. At least, not unless it became a bigger problem. There was no use worrying her if the letters meant nothing. She was definitely going to talk to Bruce. He was her number one choice, but she wanted to talk about it now. They couldn't do that over the phone. Clint and Natasha were an option. Valid ones, even, but she had to decide how much she didn't want SHIELD to know.
Why didn't she want SHIELD to read the letters? That was the question that flooded her mind in the last few minutes before sleep overtook her. She couldn't find a good enough answer.
Signora Arlotti ran her weathered hand down the picture of her late sister. There was an emptiness inside of her as death separated them. They were two pieces of the same puzzle; they were incomplete without the other.
She sensed the same emptiness in Saniya and Marsha. It was a feeling she knew well.
They were sleepwalking around her home. She heard their soft feet across the tile and them softly pulling at the locked doors. They were unconsciously searching for the third piece of their puzzle. It wouldn't be whole without her.
Their situations were different; she knew that. She and her sister were given their gifts from a man with dark hair and a silver tongue many years ago. Whoever gave Saniya and Marsha their gifts was not the same charming man, that much was clear. But, they were all searching for the missing piece and her heart hurt at the thought of those three being separated for much longer.
Signora Arlotti made sure Natasha and Clint's door was shut before gathering the two sisters. She waved her hand in the air and a fine green mist threaded her fingers. Lowering her elderly body, she sat on the fold-out bed.
"Join me," she whispered. The mist crept across the floor and swirled around their bodies in a ribbon. Marsha was the first to respond. Her body trudged across the floor until she sat next to Signora Arlotti on the bed.
Saniya was more hesitant. Maybe, even asleep, she wasn't so keen on blindly following instructions. But eventually she did join them, head falling forward from sleep.
Signora Arlotti raised her hands and rested them on the women's brows. The green mist permeated from her skin into theirs. "Find your third piece. Allow yourself to search with your mind instead of body."
The two sisters rolled forward and they did as she told them to. They were searching with their minds and spirit, much more effective than physically searching.
Signora Arlotti grasped at the searing pain in her chest. Without her sister, she often overexerted herself. But, past the pain, she was happy for what she did and she was sure they would be too. Finally, they had a chance of becoming complete.
Saniya balanced the plates on her forearm as she carried a record number to a table. The family, intent on completely ignoring her, sat straight-backed and silent.
She placed the right plate in front of the right person. "Just shout if you need something, alright? I'll be over there."
They didn't respond. She lingered in her spot before returning back to the counter with Dorie. Her co-worker lounged on the surface with a book held up to her face. When Saniya tried to read the title, the words shifted in a jumble of incoherent words.
Yeah, this was weird.
"The family over there are really creepy," she complained. "They're freaking statues."
Dorie smacked some gum against her teeth. "They don't like you."
"Obviously," Saniya scoffed. "They acted like I wasn't even there."
"Technically you aren't," she muttered into the pages. Before she asked Dorie what she meant, she held out a pack of gum. "Want some?"
"Nah."
She shook the pack. "Take some."
Saniya raised an eyebrow. Dorie never sincerely shared her gum. The family from before turned to face her. They all had the same face: Christopher O'Neill's. Their skin was a bright blue with hand prints around their necks. Her breath caught in her throat. Just as she blinked, their faces morphed back to their own.
Dorie frowned. "Take some. I'm serious."
She leaned back. "And I said I don't want any," she replied. Saniya glanced at her from the corner of her eye. "Are you okay?"
She almost laughed at the question since she herself was clearly not okay. Hallucinations normally weren't a sign of good health. But, Dorie didn't answer and instead forced the gum into her hand. "I really want you to have some gum."
Saniya eyed it carefully. "You didn't poison it or anything, right?"
Dorie returned to her book with a sly smile. "Puh-lease. If I did that, nothing would be done here. You're the only thing keeping this restaurant running."
"More like scraping along but I'll take that compliment," she muttered.
Despite Dorie's odd behavior, she put the stick of gum in her mouth. She hopped off the counter and turned to say something to Dorie, but stopped.
She wasn't in the restaurant anymore. Instead, she was in a house that smelt of peppermint. Next to the door were over ten pairs of shoes varying from high heels to children's sneakers. The walls were lined with pictures of Marsha playing on a softball team, graduation, prom... Her entire life was on the walls, captured in the form of pictures.
Then, she heard the familiar giggle from the other room. A chorus of chatter came after that with a gruff voice overpowering them all. A child squealed and ran out of the dining room with mashed potatoes over his face. He froze when he saw her.
Suddenly, he bounced up to her and tugged on her hand. "Late, late, late," the kid sang. He, with an enormous amount of strength for a five-year-old, dragged her into the dining room.
Twelve blonde heads and one with black hair turned to them. Marsha, easy to pick out among the family, bounced from her seat. "Saniya!" She ran to her and engulfed her in a hug. "This is my family. Family, this is my sister!"
The family fell silent. Their faces turned into Christopher's, bright blue, and deep hand prints around their necks. Marsha and Saniya blinked and their faces turned back to normal, only now they were silent and refused to look at them.
"Mom?" Marsha said, waving her hand in front of her face. She didn't move or acknowledge Marsha's existence.
Saniya tugged on her sister's arms as their heads turned at the same time, exactly like in a horror movie with dolls Natasha watched on the plane. Saniya was waiting for one of their heads to fall off or say something like 'play with me'.
"I think we need to leave." Marsha stumbled as her mother stood from her chair. The other family members followed suit and pointed to the door. Without waiting for Marsha to unfreeze, she practically carried her out of the house as fast as possible. Saniya didn't stop right outside the door, instead dragging them all the way across the street.
Marsha stumbled as her mother stood from her chair. The other family members followed suit and pointed to the door. Without waiting for Marsha to unfreeze, she practically carried her out of the house as fast as possible. Saniya didn't stop right outside the door, instead dragging them all the way across the street.
Marsha shook her head frantically. "What just happened? What was wrong with them?"
"We need to call Bruce. Maybe it's like a virus or... or..."
Quickly, the answer to all their fear popped into Marsha's mind. She had watched enough television to know. "We're dreaming. We have to be," Marsha said with revelation. The terror on her face slackened to resignation. "None of this is happening."
Saniya wrinkled her nose. "I think I'd know if I was dreaming. This is not dreaming."
Marsha tugged her sleeves over her hands. "Do you remember how you got to my house because I don't remember ever leaving Italy." She rubbed at the corners of her eyes. "It's just a scary dream. We'll wake up."
"Come on, it's not a dream," Saniya insisted. "We're probably hallucinating or something. Maybe Signora Arlotti slipped us something in our soup." Marsha mustered up what was potentially a glare, but she couldn't follow through with the threatening appearance.
A car drove by, kicking up a cloud of dust. Saniya coughed as it invaded her lungs. All she could see and smell was dust. When it was clear enough to the point where it didn't collect in her lungs, she opened her eyes.
No longer were they in the middle of suburbia but in a desert. The sun was overwhelmingly hot. She felt her skin began to boil and bones melt. In the distance, a sand storm was building, kicking dust in the air at a great height.
"Okay, so maybe we're dreaming." Saniya closed her eyes, trying to make herself wake up. Nothing happened, even when she pinched herself. They were still in the desert.
Marsha tugged on her shirt. "Who's that?" she whispered. Saniya followed her gaze to a woman curled in the sand with her knees to her chest. Her beady eyes, covered by the veil of hair, stayed on them.
"Hey! Get up! There's a storm coming," Saniya yelled at her. The woman slowly lifted her head and, to her horror, it was the woman who shot a machine gun at her. A smile big enough to crack her face grew on her lips as she stood. Saniya positioned herself in front of Marsha, prepared to run at the slightest sign of trouble.
The moment she opened her mouth, Saniya knew there would be a trouble with communication. Neither Marsha or Saniya understood the words coming out of her mouth. Some were familiar from eavesdropping on her parents —adoptive parents— but there was no way in hell she knew what she was talking about.
"Do you speak English?" Marsha asked.
Saniya's grip on her arm tightened. "Don't talk to her," she hissed under her breath.
Marsha, eyes wide and innocent, stared back at her. "She seems nice."
She's really not. But since there were no obvious weapons on her, she didn't pose an immediate threat.
The woman frowned. "You don't understand our language?" Her accent flooded through her English. She wasn't from the United States, that was for sure.
Marsha shook her head.
The frown grew larger. Her brown eyes flickered between Saniya and Marsha. "Do you know who I am, sisters?"
Saniya knew some of the things she had done; she knew her reputation. But when she thought about it, Natasha and Clint never told her this woman's name.
Marsha gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, we don't."
She curled her fists, her lips tightening. "You never would have forgotten if you hadn't been taken away," she cursed. Though the air was filling with dust, she inhaled deeply through her nose. "My name is Indali. I am your sister. I have been searching for you two ever since those demons stole you." The contempt in her eyes morphed into joy in the flash of a second. "You always looked past me when we came together in our dreams. Fate has allowed you to see me again."
When she moved towards them, maybe for a hug, Saniya took several large steps back, taking Marsha with her.
"You tried to kill me," Saniya spat. Marsha gasped. "You shot at me and I nearly died because you of and your stupid gun, so I'm not sure why you think I will let you close to us. Plus, I'm not buying this 'sister' thing. I can believe one sister I never knew about, but two?"
Marsha clasped her hand. Saniya felt how her fingers trembled. "I believe. I don't think Indali would lie," she defended.
She resisted the urge to snap at her. Marsha didn't deserve her anger. "We can't trust her," she gritted through her teeth. Indali's eyes darkened a shade, threatening to be the black Saniya remembered them being. "We don't know her."
Marsha bit her lip. "Yes, we do. Don't you feel it too?"
Indali nodded. "Our bodies remember each other. We came from the same mother. We share the same soul. Ever since we've been torn apart, we've been fighting to become one again."
Saniya wasn't so sure about the 'same soul' thing, but she was feeling the same way she did when she first saw Marsha. There was an instantaneous bond that both revolted Saniya and comforted her. One side was saying that this was her sister while the other couldn't get the image of the machine gun out of her mind.
She held tight to Marsha's hand, in case she got any ideas of going near Indali. "Sister or not, I'm still very angry about you trying to kill me."
Indali played with the ends of her hair. "Do you remember my eyes?"
"Yes." Very much so.
"Were they... uh..." Indali tapped her fingers on her wrist. "I cannot remember the English word. Were they like the night sky?"
Saniya tensed. "Darker."
She swore at herself for seeing the similarities between Indali and Marsha. Indali scrunched her face in the same way Marsha did whenever she was sad. "I don't remember shooting you," she admitted. "I would never hurt you, please don't leave me again!"
Turned out the fear of being alone was a family trait.
Indali didn't stop there. Her fingers were in her hair and her eyes were turning black slowly. "Christopher left me alone. Please don't ever leave me. Please, I can't..."
Marsha began to move forward, but Saniya held her back. "Christopher?" she questioned. "Christopher O'Neill? The guy who tried to kidnap me?"
Indali stopped in her jerky movements. Her eyes, coal black with a hint of brown around the pupil, locked on her. Saniya realized she had never felt true fear before peering into the depths of those eyes. The darkness was a monster living in her sister's body.
"Where is he? You know him?" Indali moved towards her at a frightening speed. This time, Marsha willingly backed away with Saniya.
Saniya couldn't tear her eyes away. "He's dead. SHIELD killed him."
With those words the dust storm overwhelmed them, they could still hear Indali's screams of anger over the wind.
Saniya jerked awake. Her hand flew to her heart. Just a dream, just a dream.... Then she shook sand out of her hair and what happened became real. Marsha was less dramatic with her awakening. Her eyes burst open, but she only rolled on her side and cried into her pillow. Saniya didn't need to ask to know they had the same dream.
And if Marsha was there, then it made sense for Indali to have been there too. Saniya wasn't completely ready to accept it, but in the greatest of cliches life could throw at her, there was another sister. Just what she needed. Not.
Sister or not, Indali was dangerous. Saniya didn't trust her and she prayed Marsha didn't either. Now she had to face the problem of being in the same country as her and Indali being the focus of Natasha and Clint's manhunt.
Saniya could not go searching for her in the morning. If they found her, Indali might say something that'd have SHIELD lock her and Marsha up for good. Plus, Saniya was more than a little frightened that she'd be murdered in some messed up form of sisterly love. No matter how much she whined, Clint and Natasha didn't stop their trip, so there was no way they'd let her leave now. Saniya took out her phone and scrolled to the right number.
"Sorry for throwing you under the bus, Clint," Saniya mumbled.
That morning, Saniya learned exactly how fast Agent Musa could raise hell when asked to.