3rd P.O.V.*
Natasha Romanoff is currently driving up a long driveway in the countryside of Washington, DC. She parks in front of a large mansion and walks up to the front door. She places her hand on the doorknob and tries to step in, only to find that the house is locked up. Natasha furrows her eyebrows in confusion and pulls out her phone. She scrolls through her contacts and stops at one name. Nikolina.
Her thumb hesitates over the number before she takes a deep breath through her nose and pushes the button. She raises the phone to her ear and listening to the dialing tone. She hears an automated message, and confusion washes over her body. She continues to scroll through her contacts until she arrives at another name. Nick Fury.
"What?"
"Do you know where Nikolina is?" Natasha asks Nick while walking around to the back of the house.
"No. Miss Volkov is out on a mission," Nick said to Natasha in a firm voice, but there was underlining worry and confusion.
"When was she supposed to be back?" Natasha picked the lock of the back door and walked inside. She looks around the room and notices a light coating of dust covering the furniture.
She walked up the stairs and turns to the right going towards Nikolina's bedroom. "2 months ago." Fury says into the phone, and Natasha pauses mid-step. Nikolina's bedroom is in pristine condition, too immaculate.
"She isn't here," Natasha explains to Fury the condition of the house, and then Fury said to her,
"I'm coming, and I am bringing Rogers."
Natasha looks through Nikolina's bedroom before closing her door and walks down to the lobby to wait for Fury and Rogers. She heard a car engine pull up, followed by the sound of a motorcycle engine. Both of the drivers shut off their machinery, and then the rustle of footstep walks up to the door and stops; Natasha walks over to the door and pulls it open. She moves to the side and allows both the men into the house; she looks at their faces and sees that Steve seems very concerned and scared while Fury looks at her with mild curiosity and slight panic.
They walk into Nikolina's kitchen and sit down at the table there. Looking out the window, a large pool with a large scenic scene behind it. The lake reflects the sun, and it glitters across the top; all three of them look around the kitchen before getting down to business.
Rogers is the first to speak, "Where did you send Nikolina?"
Fury replies in a stern voice, "France."
"What was her mission?" Natasha asks while getting a glass of water.
"She was supposed to intercept and contain two widely known people for terrorism. Their names are Pierre DeBois and Mateo Lopez. I sent someone there to see if she completed her mission when you called me Natasha."
"What was found?" Steve and Natasha asked in sync.
"There was a camera that captured everything."
A sense of dread drifts over all the people in the room; Fury sighs deeply and pulls out a briefcase. He flips it open, and inside there was a monitor; he powers it up, and the video footage pops up. They watch with intent, they see Nikolina walk into the store, and the camera switched to the camera inside the store. All three listen to the French lady, and Nikolina has a conversation. They see Pierre walk in and place himself in front of the window, they see Nikolina look at him and then turn back to the lady, and they continued to talk in French.
After a few moments, they see Mateo Lopez walk in and nod to the man; they both stepped outside and walked down the street a little. Nikolina walks out of the store, pretends to look through her bag, causing both the men to look at her and everyone to hold their breath. When both the men looked away, all the people watching the video let out a sigh of relief; however, it is short-lived, they saw the briefcase exchanged between the men. Nikolina springs into action, and both pull out guns and fire at her. They see her head jerk to the side as she dodged the bullet; they all watch as the fight commenced.
While watching intently, Steve is impressed by Nikolina's fighting skills; his heart drops to his stomach when he watches her hand raised to her neck. A needle is held tightly in her hand, and he watches as she falls to the ground; he saw a man dress in all black walk up to Nikolina and picked up her unconscious body. Steve could feel his heart beating in his chest, both out of fear and adrenaline; he wanted to be there and protect her.
Natasha watched the video with critical eyes; she tried to read the words coming out of Nikolina's and Pierre's mouths. She could only make out a couple of words that didn't make a lot of sense. However, there was one word that stuck in Natasha's head, HYDRA. She felt worried seep into her mind, worry for the girl she considers a little sister.
Fury hides his face from Natasha and Steve, and he had worry written all over his face. He had somewhat formed an attachment to Nikolina, a devotion like a father to a daughter. He was able to gain his emotions together and pressed the fast-forward button; he watched as the person he sent to the scene walked onto the camera. He picked up the bodies and then the dart; he looked at the symbol on the dart, put it in a bag, and walked to the awaiting Quinjet.
Fury found his voice and told Steve and Natasha, "The agent I sent will be at the base in a couple of hours with the bodies and the dart."
"Let's go. I want to know why HYDRA wants Nikolina again." Natasha said in a cold voice that is laced with rage.
All the people looked at each other and nodded their heads in acknowledgment of what was just said. Fury and Steve walked out of Nikolina's house first, and Natasha followed shortly after them. She turned around once she was on the home porch and took one last look inside before she closed the door and locked it. At the same time, all the agents pull away from the house in their means of transportation and head back to base.
After a short ride, they pulled into SHIELD And parked their vehicles. They took the elevator to Nick's office and sat down on the couch; they were sitting there for about 3 hours when a knock at the door. The door slowly opened, and they were surprised to see the agent walk through. It wasn't who they were expecting.
It was Clint.
3rd POV*
All the people in Nick's office are filled with hope, and then it quickly diminishes when they saw it was Clint and not Nikolina. Clint looked at Fury, Natasha, and Steve in confusion; he walks into the office and shuts the door behind him. He walks over to the little lounge area and sits down in the empty chair. Clint reads the expressions and feels a sense of dread come over him.
"What's happened?" Clint asked while trying to figure out if anything wrong has happened in the news.
"An agent has been compromised." Clint sets his emotions and asks, "Who?"
A slight pause is very evident, and then Natasha said in a tight voice, "Nikki."
"Nikki? Are you sure?" Clint's throat felt like it was closing, and he couldn't breathe. His chest starts to move up and down rapidly.
"Yes, she was on a mission when she was captured." Fury said in an authoritative voice.
"Who captured her? How long has she been missing?" Panic was starting to lean into Clint's voice as he thought about the woman he loves like a little sister.
"HYDRA. She has been gone for about two months." Fury said, Clint feels anger course through him, and he jumps up. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME SOONER?! I COULD HAVE HELPED HER!"
"We didn't know she was gone until a few hours ago, Clint," Natasha said in a cold, calm voice.
"What do we know?" Clint interrogated all three of them.
Steve answers this time, "She was in Paris, intercepting a business deal from Pierre DeBois and Mateo Lopez. A guy came after her; I couldn't see who it was cause he had a disguise on. He knocked her out and dragged her with him. We are trying to track their where about from there, but so far, everything is coming up cold."
Clint listens to Steve begin to explain what they knew, and he mulls over the information he is given; he wants to go to Paris. He wants his little sister; he pulls up the video footage of what happened and watches it with such intensity. Clint feels pride at the way Nikki took down those two guys, but his ego turns into nervousness very quickly when he sees her hand reach for her neck. His heart stops when he saw her fall to the ground; he looks at the surroundings and then saw that she is being dragged away.
He reaches over to the monitor and moves the video to the side; he opens up a map and brings all the positions that Nikolina was and what she did there; all of a sudden, Clint would touch the screen again, the screen changes. The map zooms out and moves from west Europe all the way over to Russia. All the people in Fury's office watch the screen in confusion. A red blip appears in the middle of Russia, then suddenly, a blue blip appeared. A video pops up on the screen from a security camera; they watch as Nikolina walks down a hallway leaving a trail of bodies. She steps out of the frame, and then the camera turns fuzzy, the video closes, and then the screen moves toward the red blip.
Natasha and Clint felt recognition ringing through them; that is where Nikolina has a safe house. A video opened again; Nikolina was sitting in a chair and staring at the camera. A smirk came to her lips, and then she started speaking,
"I'm alright. I'm in Russia. I escaped. I will be in the United States in a week, I have a lot to tell you, and I demand a damn raise. Also, I've been missing for TWO months, and you idiots NOW notice that I'm missing? Seriously? You need to step up your game. It's weak."
Everyone lightly chuckled at Nikolina's humor and felt relief surge through their bodies. The video closed, and all they see is the blank map now. Clint sat down while replaying the video in his mind again; there was something off about Nikki. Natasha was thinking along the same lines as Clint and was trying to figure out why she looked so different. Steve's mind was racing a mile a minute; he imagined the torture Nikolina endured and why she was captured. Fury was wondering how this is going to affect Nikolina and if HYDRA got any intelligence from her.
I am driving for about 2 hours, my wounds are still bleeding a decent amount, so I found some cloth and tied it tight around my arm to keep the blood from coming out. I wrap the pieces of fabric around my wrists the most because of how deep the chains cut in. I look over to the wolf pups on the passenger seat, and I see they are curled up in a ball together and are slightly shivering; I grab another couple of pieces of clothing and lay them on top of the pups.
After driving for so long, I finally pull up to the house in a rural part of Russia. Once the car comes to a stop in the driveway, and I reach over and grab the pups. Opening the door, the puppies shot into my house while I stumble through the door after tripping over them and unarm the security system.
I got some food for the pups in the kitchen and left them downstairs, knowing that there isn't much for them to get into while walking up the stairs. I walk into my bathroom and grab my first aid kit. I walk over to the sink, grab a towel, and run it under the water; I grab the peroxide and another sheet. I sit down on the chair and place a towel underneath me; I open the kit and brace myself.
I lean forward, resting my arms over the towel on the ground, and I begin to pour the peroxide on my wrists. I hiss out of pain and watch as my wounds start to foam and turn white while bubbling. I pour peroxide over the cuts three more times to be safe. I then pick up the washcloth and wipe away everything that remained on my wrist. I grab a couple of bandages and some gauze and wrap up my wrists. I pick up the towel from the ground and throw it in the dirty hamper; I walk over to the bathtub and sit inside it. I brought all the medical supplies with me and set them aside, and I clean all the rest of my wounds.
Once I am finished, 2 hours later, I get out, walk to my bedroom, and grab some ratty clothes I keep there. I walk downstairs and find the pups. I catch them and set them down in the kitchen. I make some food and grab some water and a Gatorade. I eat and drink the food I made for myself; it felt heavenly. After a while of being in the kitchen, I walk back upstairs with the pups following me.
I walk back into the bathroom and strip off my clothes and hop in the shower. I watch the water circle the drain, the dirt and the blood swirling around the floor. The water slides down my body, and I bite my lip to keep from screaming out of pain as the water hits my back. I grad the peroxide bottle again and poured it over the whip marks, I whimper, and I feel my nails dig into the palm of my hand.
After my shower, I put on some clothes and lay in my bed. I lay on my stomach and let my eyes close. I listen to the sound of my pups' breathing, and it lulls me to sleep.
I shoot up out of bed, sitting on my knees, and I find myself covered in sweat. I get out of bed and walk downstairs; I enter the kitchen and grab some water. I hear something; I lower my glass slowly and listen intently. The pups are still upstairs, lying in my bed. I set my glass down on the counter, reach under it, and grab one of the many guns I have placed all over the house.
I hear the sound of my front door opening, and I spring into action. I hide behind a door and peek around the corner. A person is standing in the dark; I take the safety of my gun and aim.
"Nikki?" I know that voice. Clint.
"Nikki, are you here? Nikki?!" I see Clint walk around in the dark, and I flip the lights on. He freezes and then spins around to face me.
"Hey, Clint," I say in a rough voice, "what are you doing here?"
"Did you think that I wouldn't come here to make sure that you were okay?" He questions me, and I shrug.
He sighs out and then walks at a fast pace to me; his arms wrap around me and pull me to his chest. His scent envelops me, and I welcome the familiarity of it. He holds me for a minute before he pushes me back, he looks over my body, and I see anger pulse in his eyes when his eyes see all the bandages covering my body.
"Come on; I want to look at these." He walks me up to my bathroom and makes me sit down.
"You don't have to. I am fine," I say.
"Yes, I do."
I don't say anything as I watch him unwrap all my bandages. He started with my wrists; I hear his sharp intake of breath when he sees all the damage done to the skin. His hands shake slightly, and he tries to be as gentle as he can after finishing with my wrists, arms, legs, feet, and ankles. He sighed before looking up at me,
"Anywhere else?" I hesitate before nodding silently, I grab the hem of my shirt, and I wince as I try and bring it over my head. Clint saw me wince and helped me take off my shirt.
I sigh before I hesitantly say, "My back." He nods and grabs a bandage. I turn around, and I hear him drop all the medical supplies he had in his hands.
"Oh my god, Nikki! What did they do to you? How bad does it hurt?" I lower my head and reply,
"They whipped me; I don't remember how many times. It hurts bad, Clint. Help me." I feel his trembling hands as he cleans my wounds. I whimper and make small, quiet sounds of agony. I observe him wrapping bandages around me, and I sigh in relief.
Clint lifts me in his arms, walks out of the bedroom, and sets me on my bed. He grabs my pajamas, and he helps me get dressed. He laid me on my side before he pulled the covers over me; he shuts off the light before walking back into the bathroom again. I hear him cleaning everything up and washing away all the blood that got on the floor. He turns off the lights, and I watch as he walks over to my bed, and he lays down next to me. For the first time in 2 months, I feel safe and protected.
I walk up in my bed; the sunlight streams through the blinds and directly into my eyes. I begin to roll onto my back; the pain that shoots through me serves as a reminder about the bandages covering the wounds on my back. I sit upon my bed and stretch my limbs above my bed, my joints cracking and popping as I finally stretch properly. I sigh, and I look over to the right side of my bed and see that Clint isn't lying there next to me.
I hear sounds coming from my kitchen; it sounds like pans clanging together. I get out of my bed and walk downstairs; tiptoeing into my kitchen, I see Clint moving about with a spatula in his left hand. A large stack of chocolate chip waffles sits proudly on the counter, the steam coming off of them, causing my stomach to growl.
"Hey, Nikki," Clint is pouring a cup of coffee and looking at me, "how are you feeling?" He holds the mug out to me, shaking it lightly when I don't move right away to take the cup
I gingerly grab the coffee mug, my fingers wrapping around the ceramic base, "Hey Clint, I'm fine. Kind of sore. You know the usual."
He scoffs and says, "Yeah, the usual. Your usual is a normal person's extreme. Come on; I made you your favorite food."
"You didn't have to. I could have just eaten cereal or fruit." He looks at me with his mouth wide open, slightly offended
"There is no way that I am going to let you eat cereal or fruit after you just escaped by HYDRA. Besides, they probably didn't feed you when you were there." Right, I hardly got any food.
"Thanks, Clint. I appreciate it." I grab my fork and grab the syrup and pour it all over my waffles.
"No problem, Nik. You know you are like my little sister."
I smile at him and continue eating my food; I moan lightly when the food touches my tongue. It tastes like Heaven; I make quick work of my meal, and I grab one more waffle. I chug my coffee, letting the liquid warm me from the inside out. I am thinking about the events that recently have taken place in my life, the flashbacks causing my body to go stiff. When I snap back to consciousness, I grab my dishes and walk to the sink, washing them before putting them away.
"Hey Nik, what are you going to do now? You know, now that you are free."
"I guess I am going back to America, and I am going to have to answer Fury's questions."
"What after that?" He cocks his head at me.
"I guess I will go back to work right away. It's all I have ever done."
Clint sighs at me; he lightly shakes his head at me before looking out the window. I follow his gaze, and I see a Quinjet resting in the middle of my lawn. I sigh before getting up and head over to the window; I lean against the wall and look at the Quinjet. I stare at nothing for a long minute, contemplating whether I should go home or not. Clint walks over to me and rests his hand on my shoulder, and it provides me some comfort but not enough.
"Come on; I'll take you home."
As Clint says this to me, I feel lost for a moment. I have a family now, but no one knows who I really am and what I went through. I grab the two pups and walk up the stairs and into my bedroom. I grab some comfy clothes and throw them on, and I snatch a ponytail and throw my hair up in a messy bun. I grab another bag and shove some sweats into it and grab my gun and knives. I walk down the stairs, grabbed the pups, locked my house, and got into the Quinjet.
I sit down on the row of chairs; I hold the pups on my lap until we take off. I find some rope and create some makeshift harnesses, at least until I can get them a real leash and collar. Clint sits down in the pilot seat and starts up the jet, I hear the engine's hum, and I lean back against the chairs.
Clint turns around, "It's going to be a couple of hours until we get back, rest. You are going to have a rough couple of hours at S.H.I.E.L.D."
I close my eyes, and I feel myself lull off to sleep. When I re-open my eyes, it is nighttime, and we have been flying all day. I see that Clint is struggling not to fall asleep, so I stand up and walk over to him,
"Clint," he jolts his body," come on, you are falling asleep. I can take over for a while."
"No, I'm fine. I can continue; you go back to sleep."
"Clint, shut up. Go lay down."
He turns on autopilot and stands up, and stretches. I grab his arm and help lead him to the chairs; I convert them into a bed and place a blanket on Clint. I strap him in and give him a pillow; I make sure that he has fallen asleep before I stand up again. I walk toward the pilot seat and sit down; I take the jet off autopilot and grab the steering wheel. I see the client's flight map set out for us, and I adjust the wings to tilt.
After about four more hours of flying, I see the sun starting to peek through the crowds. I grab some sunglasses and put them on; I watch the sunrise over the rolling clouds. The sunrays are filling me with a warmth that I am so desperately missing. I know that we are approaching D.C., and I feel a sense of dread come over me. I start to plan how to answer these questions: What happened, how did you get away, are you okay, what did they do to you. I place the headset over my ears and speak into it,
"This is jet NF24973, requesting clearance to S.H.I.E.L.D.I.E.L.D. Landing Pad 1. I repeat, this is jet NF24973, requesting clearance to S.H.I.E.L.D. landing pad 1."
"Who is requesting, and what level?"
"Agent Nikolina Volkov, level 9."
"You are cleared for landing on Pad 1."
I pull up to the landing pad and lower the jet; I shut off the engine and tuck the wings in. I walk over to Clint and walk him up; I ask him to take care of the pups until I am done here. He complies, and I lead the way out of the jet, I see Nat, Fury, and Steve all waiting for me.
I walk up to them, and I look over at Fury; he nods his head at me before allowing Nat and Steve through. Nat comes up to me and hugs me while whispering that she was glad that I was okay. Steve is after Nat; he grabs me with his large, muscular arms and holds me against his firm chest. I allow myself to relax in his hold and relish in the comfort Steve admits. When he finally places me down, I see Fury standing by the door, realizing that I must go to his office.
After a short walk down a long hall, we all arrive at Fury's office. I sigh before I walk in, and I go and sit on the couch he has in there; Nat and Steve place themselves around Fury and across from me. I notice Clint standing in the corner holding the pups; I brace myself and set an emotionless look on my face before looking at Fury.
"Tell me what happened, Nikolina." The command is coming out of Fury's mouth.
"You sent me to France to intercept a French arms deal, Pierre DeBois, and his buyer, Mateo Lopez. I made contact and was able to take them out without a problem. As I was finishing Mateo, Pierre started talking to me. He told me that HYDRA wanted me back and would stop at nothing to get me. I was attacked by a HYDRA assassin and was captured. They took me to a remote location in Russia, close to Siberia. I was kept in the dark cell chained until they started to experiment on me, they injected me with wolf blood, hence why Clint is holding wolf pups, and they trained me to control my new abilities. I was tortured, and I was able to break free and kill everyone there. No SHIELD revealed secrets and nothing valuable of the U.S. government."
I say this all in one breath; I keep my eyes cold and distant. I see Steve has a horrified look on his face, his body tense and ready to strike. Natasha is slightly better at hiding her emotions, but I can still tell that she is deeply disturbed. Fury, however, looks at me with a critical gaze, his eyes trying to pierce my armor, but he can't. He slowly nods his head and leans his elbows on his knees.
"How do you feel?" I look over at him and say,
"Fine. I want my next mission."
Natasha, Clint, and Steve start to protest right away, but they immediately quiet with my warning look. I look over at Fury, waiting for his decision; he gets up from his chair and walks to his desk. Fury grabs a folder and walks back over to me, holding it out in his hand. I reach my hand out, grasping the envelope. I look into Fury's eyes before he lets go and nods. I stand up and walk out of the room, I hear rapid footsteps chasing after me, and I slow my stride. Steve, Natasha, and Clint stop right before they crash into me,
"Nikki, you can't just go on a mission. You just got back from being captured!" Clint yells at me.
"I'm fine. I am alive; I am walking, breathing, talking. I am fine."
"Barely! When I found you, you looked like you were on death's door. You looked like shit!" I shoot Clint an unimpressed glare. I turn around and continue my stride.
"Where are you even going, anyway?"
"London."