𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗.
Charlie Stark-Rogers has grown up in the shadow of the world's greatest heroes. But spending your entire life in the face of danger takes its toll on anyone. She has secrets, thi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆, as Charlie felt the woman's hands yanking her shoulder.
She was confused, for a split second- did the redhead just want it to hurt? She wanted to drag out her death, make it more painful... maybe she wanted Tony to hear his daughter as she died.
But then the excruciating pain came to an abrupt halt, her scream echoing through the empty, snowy forest, and she realized she wasn't dead yet.
And her shoulder hurt... significantly less.
The woman hadn't killed her. She'd... fixed Charlie's shoulder?
Charlie looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks and her nose running, trying to get a good view of the red-headed woman. The haze of confusion and pain had only thickened, and she found herself infuriatingly overwhelmed.
The red-head's impossibly pale face seems to glow in the moonlight, catching the silver and black of the mask covering her mouth and nose. Her dark eyes were intense and looked like she'd seen a million years worth of bullshit.
But most shocking was her hair.
It had fallen out of the black cap and now tumbled down her shoulders, matted tangles tumbling down her shoulders. It looked as though the girl hadn't brushed it in weeks and weeks- maybe she hadn't.
It was a gorgeous color- a deep, dark red like nothing Charlie had ever seen. Almost like Natasha's- God, she wished her aunt was here right now.
But the way it framed her face plunged Charlie into a new revelation.
This wasn't a woman.
"You're a kid," Charlie rasped, without realizing it. Panic seized her at once, not knowing how the assassin was going to respond to being addressed.
The girl just stared at her.
"You're my age," Charlie repeated. "You can't be any older than fifteen and- you're blowing up people's homes? Trying to kill their parents? What- who are you?"
The girl's eyes flickered, but she remained motionless. As if she wanted to respond, but couldn't.
Charlie opened her mouth, the horror of the whole situation hitting her like a freight train. She was about to say something again when a shout caught her attention, causing both she and the red-head to turn around and face it.
Tony was running through the snow- or more like trudging, as it was at least three feet deep- looking desperate and angry and everything in between. "Charlie!"
It was obvious he had seen the girl. Charlie was too weak to cry out, feeling the snow freeze onto her scalp and into her skin. The cold was getting to her worse than anything else at the moment. Suddenly it wasn't that shocking that this girl was here, or that she existed-
