The closest thing to a daughter

Season 1 Episode 3

A few hours later, they were all gathered in the living room again, talking heatedly about the rumored charmed Clint Barton, Loki and the Tesseract. When Abigail entered the room, having had her first proper shower with hot water in a long time. There was a sudden silence, which caused her to stop in front of them and look questioningly at all four of them. So much for the fact that she was now a "member" of their team, which she didn't want to be on. But they didn't want to tell her what her oh-so-important mission was.

"What's your name by the way, little one?" Tony asked the question that was actually long overdue and should have been answered a long time ago. Not exactly eager to answer, she turned around, ready to simply disappear from the room again.

However, she caught sight of someone standing behind her again. This time it was Steve, who had gotten up to stop her from running away. How did they always manage to do that? Despite the short time, they had already figured her out far too well, which she didn't like at all. She preferred to be a closed, unreadable book with unspoken secrets for everyone. And normally that had never been a problem for her. No one managed to see through her true thoughts and actions.

"Abigail," she replied simply and stayed where she was. She would keep her surname to herself for the time being. It was none of their business anyway. Even if her surname didn't mean anything to her. It wasn't even her real one, because her parents had changed their surname when they moved from Russia to New York.

"Abigail, what?" Tony Stark persisted, looking at her penetratingly.

"Does it matter?" she replied snappishly, crossing her arms in front of her chest and making an annoyed face.

"Of course it does."

Abigail snorted, widening her eyes but finally opening her mouth, "Nolan." There was no way they knew that last name anyway. It was nothing special. She wasn't the daughter of a rich mother and she wasn't the daughter of a villain either. She was nothing. Just Abigail. So her last name meant absolutely nothing.

"How old are you?" asked Bruce Banner, who had barely exchanged a word with her so far and had actually been high up in her ranking. This changed now, as he apparently began to ask questions too. However, she was right in assuming that they were unfamiliar with her surname. That was better. What could be known was nothing she would be proud of.

"Seventeen," she gave another curt answer. What did any of that matter? After all, she didn't ask how old they all were as well. Admittedly, it didn't interest her at all.

"Where are your parents?" Another question from the scientist. And such a precarious one at that. She certainly wouldn't answer that. Moreover, she didn't even know the answer.

"I don't know what business it is of yours," she said sassily, making her reluctance clear. "But don't worry, they're not looking for me, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't do anything to look for them."

"How do we know we can trust you?" Black Widow asked suspiciously, reminding Abigail of her hated past.

"You don't know. But it's the truth. They sold me like twelve years ago, so I hardly think they'd want me back after all these years." Suddenly, the room fell silent and even Natasha looked down at the floor with sorrow on her face. She had no idea that the little girl also had such a difficult past. No one knew what to say, they just knew that they shouldn't and probably wouldn't bring up the subject again for the time being.

"What can you do?" the person behind her asked with interest after a few minutes to break the awkward silence. Knowing that neither of them would rest until they knew the truth about her, she exhaled. Besides, she didn't feel like trying to deny them an answer she was going to get anyway.

Grinning, Abigail answered his question: "I'll show you." She closed her eyes and her hand tightly and the next time she opened her hands, flames rose up in them and her usually blue pupils turned fiery red. Everyone in the room was amazed, but Abigail wasn't done with her performance. She looked over at Natasha and shot a fireball just past her head, smashing into the wall behind her.

Of course, it hadn't been her intention to hit her, she just wanted to scare her a little, as she associated something dark with her from everyone else present. Steve grinned, impressed, while Tony worried about his beautiful ruined wall. Romanoff stood up and walked up to the little girl.

"You'll regret this," she threatened as they both stood very close to each other. The younger girl was only a few centimeters shorter than Natasha, which didn't help. Not taking the threats too seriously, Abigail started to laugh and said dumbly, "I don't think I will do that."

"I'd start running, Kid," Tony warned the little girl, but any help was already too late for her. Natasha grabbed her hand, pushed her down and wrapped her legs around her neck so that they both went down. Still lying on the floor, Abigail groaned in pain.

"Ouch, do you mind getting off of me?" she asked, perhaps a little too put-upon kindly. Tasha stood up and stood over her.

"Learn your place, child," she warned sternly and angrily disappeared from the room. A little surprised that she actually felt a little sorry for her action, Abigail struggled to her feet. This had definitely not been a good start, but she couldn't turn off her dislike of the former Red Room agent. Maybe because of her past, or maybe because of everything the Red Room embodied. She didn't know why, but she didn't like Natasha. Maybe because it was so instilled in her?