Veronica Barnes: Trained to Kill

XXXVII.

Date: 09/18/2012
Location: Manhattan, New York

The air around Veronica swirled as she moved through a tube of blue. The Quantum Realm. Shrunk down to atom size, as was everyone else, she was traveling through time. Back to a time in which she didn't even know who the Avengers were. In 2012 she was still in Siberia, under HYDRA's control, killing people like she was trained to do. One less thing to worry about. 

The regular world came into view as the girl appeared in New York, the sounds of Chitauri snarling as they hung off the side of buildings. She could hear Hulk's roar in the distance as she watched Steve, Scott, Hulk, and Tony travel to their designated spot in New York, the girl running with Natasha, Clint, Rhodes, Thor, Nebula, and Rocket through the woods as their suits disintegrated, revealing their regular clothes. 

"WHERE ARE WE GOING?!" Veronica yelled over the sounds of booms coming from the city.

"QUINJET!" Clint yelled back. 

They sprinted all the way to an old warehouse, Natasha moving to the lock and putting in a combination. It opened quickly, the group rushing inside and climbing onto two stored Quinjets, presumably there for back up when needed. Thank god.

Veronica moved into the interior of the Quinjet, watching as Thor and Rocket climbed into another, the waving at one another before taking off in their separate directions. The Quinjet sped towards the sky, upwards, the city below them growing small as they moved up for several moments before breaking through the barrier, entering space. 

They moved through space, jumping planets, hours passing, until finally they arrived to Morag, Rhodes and Nebula getting off. 

"Stay safe," Rhodes nodded to them.

"You too, Rhodey," Natasha replied, giving him a smile before the ship took off again to Vormir, jumping from planet to planet. 

...

Veronica stepped out, the sky dark with purple and magenta hues. It snowed as they walked in silence over the plains to the mountain, trudging up it. Not a word was spoke as Veronica led the way, walking with her hands at her sides, a tight jacket fixated over her black suit, the green vest over top of her chest.

"I see you wore the vest," Natasha spoke, walking behind her, Clint back behind them a bit. 

She nodded. "The pockets are handy."

Natasha chuckled softly. "That's what Yelena said."

"Yelena?"

Her mom looked over to her with soft eyes. "You'll love her. You two are a lot alike." She shook her head. "The two of us aren't even blood related, but I swear I see more her in you than myself." They reached the top, Clint coming up beside them. "I bet the raccoon didn't have to climb a mountain."

"Technically, he's not a raccoon, you know?" Clint asked, panting.

Natasha looked up at him. "Oh whatever. He eats garbage."

"Welcome."

The three spun, Clint  pulling out a sword, Natasha leveling a gun forwards at the head of man, and Veronica holding out her hands as they glowed purple. That's new.

"Natasha," the cloaked figure spoke. "Daughter of Ivan. Clint. Son of Edith." He turned to Veronica. "Veronica. Daughter of James."