"You had me followed?" You shouted into the lab and the billionaire whipped around with raised eyebrows, but then he looked even more startled when you lunged at him for a hug, making him stumble back slightly, "You don't even like me, but it was so sweet."
"Happy, why is this leech attached to me? Get it off." He grumbled halfheartedly and you pulled back to boop him on the nose before kissing his cheek quickly.
"Thank you."
"Not the reaction I was expecting."
"Yeah, well, I need your help...some more." You cringed with a guilty smile and he pretended to be bothered by it, but you could see he was intrigued.
"What do you need?"
After everything – every fucking thing you've seen and everything you were forced to learn about your family's ugly past lately, you were so damn determined to finish this.
Part of you wasn't lying about Natasha's attentiveness towards you over that week or two of being at the tower, but that wasn't all you had been doing. You were getting a crash course from the Black Widow herself on how to kick some serious ass. She saw it as aiding in the prevention of another kidnapping or something along those lines, protecting you, but you saw it as a means to an end.
Too long you had played the peacekeeper, the healer, or whatever you wanted to call it and now you were just furious.
You had been helpless against your captors, if Natasha hadn't shown up, they would've killed you if you didn't assist them, and now you were determined to salvage whatever life you had left.
Starting with the girl in lockdown.
You came armed to the teeth, knives, guns, you name it, was hidden on your person and you knew how to use it all well enough to get what you wanted.
That, and the clearance Stark gave you, was all you needed to bypass security to get inside.
Less than two hours after getting to the tower and you were breathing the same air she was, staring her down as she peered up at you from where she sat strapped to a chair.
"Here to rescue me?" She asked with a soft voice, batting her eyelashes up at you.
"Not exactly." You smirked darkly and she tilted her head in confusion as you unstrapped her, thinking maybe you were losing your mind or maybe this is exactly what you needed.
You took a step back as soon as the last strap was undone and pulled your gun, aiming it at her as she stretched her limbs exaggeratedly, standing up.
"Feels good."
There were only so many people in your life that you kept close, knew your secrets, and once Paige's name dropped off the list of people you could trust, it was anyone's bet who'd be next.
She grinned up at you like a maniac, her eyes wide, biting her entire bottom lip so you saw her yellow, crusty top teeth, and she tilted her head too much, letting the swirl of orange and brown in her eyes glow for you.
"You don't scare me." You kept steady, cocking your pistol.
"Oh, but I should," She giggled, nodding excitedly, and hopping up and down a bit, "Go on, then! Shoot me!" She was gesturing to the gun like a kid about to be handed a lollipop and not a ticket to hell, "I want to see your face when you do it!"
"What're you talking about?" You found yourself whispering and she laughed.
"Even me asking you to do it and you still don't have the guts?" She taunted, "I thought my daughter would-"
You fired off, shooting her right between the eyes and her head lulled back, but then it straightened again, the wound sealing up.
"Oh, fuck." You muttered under a shaky breath and she gave you a toothy, smug smile.
"My turn!"
She lunged for you like an animal, and you fell back with her on top of you, clawing at your shirt, tearing into it. You reached out for the gun you had dropped in the attack with a cry of pain when she hit your skin, digging into you like there was no tomorrow.
"See this?" She slow down only a little, some of your blood getting into her mouth, and she was beaming like a kid on Christmas morning as she made sure to catch your eye, forcing you to look into her orange and brown ones, "This! This is what you're gonna become!"
"No!" You shouted as blood came from your middle, her nails piercing your skin like it was the only thing they were made for, and you just reached the gun, pulling it over to put between you both.
You unloaded it into her chest, and she flew back enough for you to scramble up, healing yourself on the way with a groan in pain. She was coming for you again and you pulled something out of one of your thigh holsters you never thought you'd find a use for.
You swung the machete clear across her neck when she came close enough and started breathing heavily as her head rolled across the floor, her body falling to its knees before you stepped out of the way and it collapsed completely.
But you didn't waste any time, not in your completely right mind, and you went over to keep hitting the body with your machete until all that was left was a pile of green ooze, everything else melting into the same.
You were covered in blood, yours of course, your clothes were torn, and green ooze was dripping from it all that stung at your skin like acid but didn't penetrate it with your healing powers. In a fit of rage and a rush of adrenaline, you picked up her head and tucked it under your arm, exiting the room with the machete down at your other side.
You were a sight to behold.
So much so, no agent dared to utter a word your way, and when one brave soul raised his gun at you, you didn't even have to send him a glare before someone else was demanding he lower his weapon.
It was your mom who had introduced you to Paige after you came out to her in high school, and you knew that conniving asswipe was already up in Maine.
So, you threw the head in the trunk of the car you had already rented, slammed it shut, and brushed your hands off as you rounded it to reach the driver's side.
You glanced up at the tower across the street and opened the door, mumbling to yourself,
"I'm never going to be like you."
Then you got in and, using the information you've gathered since returning to the city, you drove up to the property purchased under your dead grandmother's name.
Typical Sunday.
