How do you learn to live?
Marcelina didn't have a childhood. She didn't have a life. She was a piece in a machine she had no control over. So once she got out- once she was given all the things she never thought were possible- she finally began to u...
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The cool December air nipped at her skin through the suit. She stood on the roof of the club, waiting for the target. He exited the building from the back door just as he was supposed to.
"цель защищена" She pressed her finger to her earpiece to speak. Target secured.
She stepped off the roof. The sound of metal crunching when she landed on a closed dumpster stopped the man dead.
"What the f-" She backhanded him at full strength, sending him stumbling down to his back with a groan.
She pressed her boot down on his chest as she pulled a gun from her thigh holster.
"P-please," he stuttered out. It took him a moment to notice the red hourglass on her waist. "Is this about Dreykov? Because I'm going to pay him back. I swear. I just need time." She pointed the gun at his head. "I have a family: my wife, s-she's expecting me. Oh, my children, please just let me go home to my children."
Her eyes flickered to the ring on his left hand. Her breath was hot against the skin under her mask.
She pulled back the hammer.
"Hail Hydra."
~~~
Marcelina opened her eyes to stop remembering.
She tied off her braid over her shoulder- still damp from the shower. She stared at herself in the big mirror, wearing nothing but underwear and a bra.
There was nothing particularly exceptional about her appearance. She had always been skinny and flat-chested. She thought it had something to do with the side effects of being given a hysterectomy before she had the chance to reach puberty, though Natasha didn't seem to have the same predicament.
Then again, she supposed after so many years of being used for the pleasure of others; she didn't have much left for herself.
Marcelina put on her clothes and left the bathroom.
She found the others in the med bay. They sat or stood in the exact placement the Avengers always seemed to find themselves in. Though, this time Clint was lying on his side as something of a laser worked over his wounded skin.
"Well, hello, Ghosty," Tony spoke, noticing her presence. "Nice of you to join us." Marcelina did not acknowledge his words, as usual, instead leaning down to inspect Clint's side as it healed itself.
