Stiles is changing. His humour fading, the light in his eyes turning darker with everyday, he was becoming more and more like the dark spirit they just defeated. His friends notice it. His dad notices it. Stiles knew this.
But what he didn't know...
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"Well, well, well."
Natasha smirked as Stiles walked casually into the training room for his session. "Look who decided to show up." The agent retorted, as Stiles smiled bashfully, going red in the face.
"Sorry, Nat." The teen replied. Walking to the centre of the room as he begun to stretch. "My alarm didn't go off this morning."
Natasha rolled her eyes as she walked up to him, pushing a brown file into his chest. Stiles looked down at it, surprised at her actions.
"Yeah, well you chose the wrong day to be late kid." Natasha watched with grin as Stiles read over the file. The teen's eyes widened in shock at the large black stamp on the front page.
"My first mission?" He questioned, looking to his mentor with a hopeful expression. Natasha nodded, patiently awaiting his reaction. "My first mission." He muttered in awe reading the file over once more, as the realisation began to settle in. "My first mission!" He shouted as he grinned massively.
Elated, he ran over to Natasha pulling her into a tight embrace, which the agent merely responded with an awkward pat on the back as she attempted to pull away from the encounter. Stiles, not deterred from her lack of reciprocation ran around the room in glee.
"Okay Stiles that's enough." Natasha tried to calm the hyperactive teen down. But Stiles was lost in the euphoria of his own joy, his ears deaf to her words. "Agent Stilinski!" She shouted, causing the teen to fall to an abrupt halt, turning to her like a lost puppy.
"Sorry Nat." Stiles muttered, shifting his feet across the floor guiltily.
"What was that?" Romanov provoked, as she made clear who was the senior agent in the room.
"Sorry Agent Romanov." Stiles corrected himself, standing up straight with his feet closed together. "Reporting for duty!" He clapped his hand across his forehead, in what Natasha assumed was his own form of a military salute. The red head rolled her eyes at his antics as she dragged him out of the room.
"Come on, the mission brief is in Fury's office." Natasha let go of his shirt as they made their way through the building. "Oh and one more thing," Stiles looked to her.
"What?"
"Don't ever do that again."
———————
Stiles covered his ears as the loud plane engines roared. The quinjet took off leaving Stiles and Natasha, along with two other agents in the deep rainforest in South America.
