Control (Avengers Fan Fiction)

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Her heels clicked against the floor as she crossed the bar. All of her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail but that ponytail was pulled over one shoulder.

"You look a little tired, Rose." Rollins commented, his voice gruff and raspy. Scarlett pulled a chair up to the table and sat down at one side.

"I've had what you could call a string of bad luck." She crossed her knees and leaned back in the chair. "I'm not here to complain about my problems. I'm here looking for a little assistance."

"You're coming to us for help?" Rollins raised his brows, looking to Rumlow just to make sure he had heard Scarlett right. Scarlett's icy gaze flickered to Rumlow. He was carefully watching her. He didn't trust the young assassin-and rightfully so. She held his gaze, clearly not intimidated by him.

"Why don't you give us a minute, Rollins?"

"You sure, boss?"

"Positive. Hang out back with Darby and Ryder."

"Okay." Rollins nodded his head once. He stood up and left the table.

Scarlett watched him leave. Of course the rest of his team was waiting outside.

"What do you want from me and my team?" Rumlow leaned forward with his elbows on the table.

"Insight. I have the means and motive to take down the current bosses. I'm done with their bullshit. HYDRA has seen nothing but failure in the last six months and I'm sick of being a part of the failures. I'm not a failure. I win and I only win."

"Who do you plan on taking over once you knife the Heads?" Rumlow cocked his head to the side a little bit to absentmindedly scratch his neck.

"Me. I've been trained for it since I was young."

"Scarlett." He let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair. He knew what he was about to say wouldn't be what she wanted to hear but it was what she needed to hear. "You've been trained as a spy for as long as I can remember. You're a solider at very best. You aren't trained for the politics and the formalities that come with being a leader like that. Sure, you can lead teams of the best operatives into the field, but you couldn't do the talking part of the job. You've been with Pierce when he had to go to those meetings or conferences with other important assholes. He's level-headed and he's smart about what he says. The first time someone says something you don't like, you gut them."

Scarlett bit the inside of her cheek, her eyes flickering down to the table that rested between them.

"You're the best damn field agent I've ever seen, Scarface. And the craziest. But I don't think you'd make a great HYDRA leader."

Silence fell between them. Rumlow didn't like how it felt like he had just had a heart to heart with her. It was very unlike them to get that personal.

"I've already started this." Scarlett's voice was quiet and timid. "I've crippled HYDRA. It'll take them years, decades even, to recover from the agents I killed and the supplies I burned. If I tear HYDRA apart, who is going to rebuild it?"

"I thought you'd have the Governess for that part." Rumlow admitted with a soft shrug of his broad shoulders. "I mean, she's pretty much a Head anyways. She's the only relatively decent one I can stand. She minds her own damn business as far as I can tell."

"I'd have to talk to her about it." Scarlett's fingers tapped against her thigh underneath the table. She had never though about what Rumlow said. How could she be so stupid?

"But you still want to get rid of the other Heads, right?" He asked. "Cause they've got to go. They're destroying us."

"Whether I have a plan for rebuilding HYDRA or not, they're going to die." Scarlett firmly nodded her head.