Distressed // Steve Rogers

1 - Ghost In The Garden

Pain radiated through her as she pushed forward. She had been found. Stumbling, she pushed through the pain. Blood stained her blouse, she was no longer sure what was hers and what was his but she knew she had to keep moving. She had to get to her. The one person she could trust.

*

Natasha Romanoff stretched out over the large couch in the compounds living room, listening to the men around her argue over whose fault it was that the mission had gone awry.

"You never stick to the goddamn plan!" Bucky shouted, his voice shaking with anger. "Just once you need to stick to the plan and not get one of us hurt."

"Oh yeah, because me stepping in to save your cyborg ass is the problem and not the fact that you were, once again, waiting for instructions when something was kicking off right in front of you!" Sam yelled back. He was frustrated by Bucky. "Weren't you a soldier in the 40s Buck!? Did you sit around waiting to be told who to get then or did you shoot the goddamn bad guys?"

"Don't call me Buck. You haven't earned that right Bird Boy."

"Alright. That's enough guys." The authoritative voice of Captain America spoke up. He wasn't Steve right now, he was Cap, and his team were at each others throats. "The simple fact is that we messed up guys. It doesn't matter who did what, we just need to do better next time."

A collective sigh echoed around the room as Steve tried to remain impartial. He knew it was Sam's impulsive behaviour that started the domino effect, he had jumped in too soon and not given Bucky a chance to prove himself, but every single one of them made mistakes. Natasha took a long swig of beer and looked over to Bruce. He'd been watching her carefully since they'd returned. She had become protective of Wanda since her arrival and he worried she'd blame herself. He raised an eyebrow, a simple questioning glance, an 'are you okay?'. She smiled back, reassuring him before closing her eyes. She was fine. She was just surrounded by idiots.

"Woah, Buck. Where are you going?" Steve dropped his voice so that it was just above a whisper.

"Back to the apartment in Brooklyn. I need a few. I'll be back soon."

The slam of the door told Nat that James Buchanan Barnes had left the argument and the building. The night went on and the group became calmer. Eventually Wanda joined them, perching down beside Nat and resting her head on the back of the couch.

"You okay Maximoff?"

"Just tired Romanoff."

Nat smiled as the faint memory of someone else played on her mind. She would have liked Wanda.

*

The slam of the door pissed Tony Stark off. No doubt Barnes storming out.

Despite the success of today's mission Wanda had almost lost control and Tony knew it was because Barnes and Wilson couldn't seem to get past their differences and work as a team. It was as if the two of them were competing for the role of Steve's right hand man at all times and as a result, they were making mistakes.

He looked through the specs for the new suit design he was working on for Wanda, adding in deflectors for when her power surges were uncontrolled and with a simple flick of the wrist he threw projections up into the air around him. Taking a step back he smiled to himself. He had done it again: another great design.

As Tony admired his work, making final tweaks before he sent it to the Iron Legion to create, FRIDAY's voice rang out clear in the little study he had holed himself up in.

"Boss, there is a breach to the rear exterior of the compound. Would you like a visual?"

Tony sighed as he ran a hand over his face. There was always something.

"Yes. Pull up the footage please."

He wasn't sure what he had expected really, maybe an android, or an alien. Perhaps even a wizard, but not this. The face that looked directly up at him through the camera was too familiar.

"FRIDAY. Get Romanoff in here. Now."

The girl was bleeding, badly and her clothes were torn. She could barely hold herself up. Although he had only seen the image on her file once, and her hair was definitely longer and darker now, he had no doubt about her identity.

There, in the middle of his back garden, was Talia Romanoff, little sister to Natasha Romanoff. Missing - presumed dead - since 2009.

*

Seeing her was seeing a ghost. She was dead. She had been dead for eleven years. Natasha had grieved her.  Yet, there she stood, her green eyes piercing as she stared at Nat. Her smile pained. 

"Talia?" Nat's voice broke, betraying the pain that laced her thoughts.

Talia laughed. Of course her big sister's first instinct was to pull a gun on her. The training they had had taught them to attack first, ask questions later. The laughter pulled through her with a cutting pain and she clutched at her wound.

"Hey sis," she shook as she spoke. "I need your help."

Cautiously, Talia took a step forward, hoping Nat would lower her weapon. The world shifted beneath her as she fell forwards, succumbing to the darkness that now took hold.