Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It really makes my day when I see one and helps a lot with feedback.

Disclaimer: I do not own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. or any of the characters therein the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"It is a joy to see you again, Mr. Ward."

Grant narrowly quelled the urge to pull out his gun and put a bullet between Bakshi's soulless eyes but allowed no signs of his inward struggle to appear on his face. His loss of control would provoke their deaths, for the Agents surrounding Bakshi looked at him with disdain.

"Bakshi, I see you're no longer demoted," he observed dryly. "Whitehall realized his mistake?"

"Cue the horseshit," John called out. "Watch. I betcha whatever he says probably came from a second-rate horse's ass."

Bakshi smiled thinly before looking directly at Skye; his eyes widened at the full view of her face. "You. She's S.H.I.E.L.D.!"

All of the Agents readied their weapons, aimed directly at them, and Skye, in alarm, gripped his arm tightly, but he merely rolled his eyes, amused at Bakshi's idiocy.

"Not anymore," he said blandly. "She's with me. I needed someone on the inside. She's my plus-one. Whitehall knows. Now put your guns down."

None of the Agents did.

His eyes narrowed, not feeling at all amused anymore.

"Give 'em hell!" John commanded.

"That's an order," he hissed out, drawing himself upward. "You don't want to piss off a Hydra Head, do you?"

The effect was instantaneous. The Agents all paled, dropping their weapons, apologies tumbling from their lips in an effort to escape an inevitable death.

"Atta boy!"

Before Grant could punish them properly, a familiar voice spoke.

"You command power, Grant Ward."

Daniel Whitehall stepped into view, passing through the parted Agents, and Skye's grip on his arm tightened even further; he felt proud, though, when she stared at Whitehall head-on as she subtly shifted her body into a fighting stance.

"Well, Whitehall's not changed a bit," John muttered sarcastically. "That son of a bitch. I wish it had been my idea to steal that woman's immortality."

"A Hydra Head without power is like a gun without bullets," he responded to Whitehall, voice bored. "Useless."

"Well said." Whitehall's eyes moved to Skye and Grant didn't like how those cold eyes sharpened. "So, this is your siren? I see why you chose her. She is beautiful. Memorable. Her eyes are captivating. Remarkable."

"So's my right hook," Skye snarked, tension lined in her beautiful face. "You keep staring at me, you'll feel it."

"You think she'll go for Whitehall's immortal balls? What about his jaw? I vote balls."

Whitehall's eyes sparked with interest. "I think I feel it already."

"You gonna invite us in?" Grant asked, getting Whitehall's attention away from Skye. "Not a very accommodating host, are you?"

"Forgive me," Whitehall commented, unaffected. "I was merely taken by your siren - as I'm sure you were when you first laid eyes on her. I wasn't lying when I described her."

"And I wasn't lying about that right hook," Skye snapped, fire appearing in her eyes. "You're getting awfully close to feeling it."

"She's definitely going for the balls," John said, laughing. "I don't like what she does to you, but damn it, I like her style. That spunk!"

"Very well." Whitehall turned around. "Come. We have much to discuss, Grant Ward."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Dimly lit, the room cast ominous shadows, but Skye was more concerned with Whitehall. The man who had probably murdered her mother gave her the creeps like no one else she had ever encountered. She had met monsters before - Garrett, the Senator, and her father, mainly - but while she had hated and feared the Senator, she had really liked Garrett before she realized the truth. She had thought him the perfect grandfather S.O. for her, and that maybe he could help her get closer to Grant, but that had all been shot to hell.

And her father… she couldn't think of him too much; it would overwhelm her. All she knew is that she was terrified - of him or the truths that he would reveal, she couldn't decipher.

But Whitehall, he was something else entirely. She wasn't sure if emotions even registered in the man's heart; he seemed colder than the Arctic. He was exactly as she had imagined the Hydra Heads to be, and when she remembered how Dr. Zenfield said he was over a century old, she knew there was much more to Whitehall than at first glance; based on watching him for a few seconds, he seemed to know things about everything, but refused to share his knowledge.

What a hoarder.

Grant easily reclined in the offered chair before Whitehall's large desk, and Skye, again, was amazed at how effortlessly he could act in different situations as she sat down beside him. The night before had been incredible, and she had barely been able to ever catch her breath before he started to continue his amorous pace - oh, she shivered just thinking about the things he could do, especially with his fingers and tongue, how he set her body on fire! - but now, he was infallible, unflappable.

She hated it. While his confidence reassured her more than any spoken words, she wanted the Grant who had made love to her, held her as she slept, and had even been tender. But she had made the choice to go see her father - and there was no going back now.

Skye laid in Grant's arms, her head on his chest, fingers drifting over hard muscles. Sweat coated her skin, and she had trouble remembering when she had ever felt so relaxed, so peaceful.

She slid back to look at him, her breasts brushing against his side; their eyes locked and she smiled.

"Am I that good?" she teased. "You're speechless?"

Grant's huff of laughter soothed her. "Well, you made John speechless. I can't hear him. I don't see him, either. I'm… enjoying the quiet."

While she felt immensely relieved that she had offered him a solace away from Garrett, she inherently knew that it wouldn't be permanent.

"After everything, what happens?" she asked, not wanting to ruin the moment, but she needed to know. "What are you going to do?"

"It depends. I don't know what's going to happen, nor what your father's going to say."

"So, you're saying it depends on me?"

"I have no plans," he admitted and his gorgeous eyes teemed with memories. "The only plan I remember having that was just for me was when I tried to murder Christian by burning down the house with him inside. All my other plans have always been for you, Tommy, John, S.H.I.E.L.D., and Hydra."

"That's depressing," she murmured. "Don't you want to do things? Don't you have… dreams?"

Grant's eyes flickered. "Since I was fifteen, my dream was to save John."

That fact made Skye feel miserable, but she pressed on. "What about now? I mean, he's gone. Your… dream didn't come true."

"Well, since I met you, I've wanted to be… better." Grant's eyes held her own, and she felt her misery at Garrett disappear. "You… make me want to be better."

She leaned down and brushed her lips against his. "Were you practicing that?"

"No."

Skye hummed, teasing, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. "I don't think so. My computer just rejected it. I have a coded formula and everything. You're gonna have to try harder."

"If I were you, I wouldn't be so certain."

"Oh, lighten up." Her fingers drifted under the sheet, feeling his heated flesh. "Thank you for being honest with me."

"Thank you for believing me."

"I hope my father is as honest as you," she whispered, a moment of doubt creeping up on her. "I don't even know if I'll know if he's lying or not. For all I know, he could tell me a bunch of lies."

Grant's fingers grazed her bare back, voice thoughtful. "I guess it takes faith to trust that you won't be lied to."

She smirked. "Then I'm pretty faithful to you, aren't I?"

"The point is, it's a choice to have that faith in someone. I mean, life is a series of choices, whether good or bad. We're defined by those choices. I left juvie with John and joined Hydra. You changed your name to Skye and you later joined S.H.I.E.L.D.. I chose to follow John all the way through and paid the price. You stayed with S.H.I.E.L.D. through their darkest hours. I chose to be honest with you, and now, you've chosen to trust me, believe me, and… love me. All of this, it's your choice. I'm not going to force you to do anything, and I won't let your father, either. Okay?"

Feeling touched, she smiled. "When did you get so philosophical?"

"It's not philosophy. Just a fact."

"Well, another fact is that after everything happens, I want you to be part of my life. I want you to be there with me." Skye held his gaze, aware of how their bare bodies molded together. "That's my dream."

Grant's lips curled, but his gorgeous eyes were clouded. "That's a nice dream. But what about S.H.I.E.L.D.? Coulson tried to ship me off to Christian to be executed. If May saw me again, she'd put a bullet between my eyes, and based on what you've said, it wouldn't surprise me if Simmons would do the same thing. They'll never trust me again, and that's just how it is. I know how much they mean to you, so… I understand if you want to go back and- "

She lifted her hand and placed her index finger over his lips. "I can't run away from you. You need me. And… I need you, too. But enough about S.H.I.E.L.D. and everyone. We can talk about them later. Right now, there are other needs we both feel that need to be taken care of."

He smirked, promises entering his eyes. "Another round sounds nice."

"Yes, it does." She slid down intentionally, grinding her body against his, and felt his manhood spring to life; her body joined his. "Help me take care of this need, Grant."

Skye blinked and felt the tense air, felt the silence bear against her mind; it was so quiet that she would have been able to hear a pin drop.

Whitehall stared back at Grant, seated behind his desk, the two men's sets of eyes - gorgeous versus cold - locking, not blinking. It felt like a courteous dick-measuring contest, like a message was trying to be sent, but whatever it was, it clearly didn't resonate in Grant. Or maybe it did, but he was playing a role. She didn't know. She also didn't interrupt the dick-measuring contest, for she knew if she spoke, it would draw Whitehall's attention, and she did not want his attention.

Finally, Whitehall spoke after several more moments. "Scenarios have played out in my mind as to how this encounter would arrive, but I never imagined this," he mused. "Some aspects are the same, so you might say it's a variation on the theme."

"Cut the horseshit."

Skye's breathing froze at Grant's sharp words, but she was even more surprised when Whitehall only smiled - and it was without any teeth.

"It's a musician's term. I trust you like music."

"I don't see what the hell music has to do with you or me."

"Think of the eminent composers, the ones endlessly immortalized. Bach. Handel. Mozart. Beethoven. Schubert. Chopin- "

"Get to your chorus," Grant demanded flatly.

"Their works, centuries after their deaths, still exist in many hearts. Those great men left legacies for all-time. I trust that you understand the connection I'm making."

Skye had no idea what the hell he was talking about.

Grant only nodded. "Hydra. Hydra will make a legacy that lasts for all-time. Centuries from now, Hydra's works will still exist in everyone's heart."

Blown away, Skye thought that was the biggest bullshit she had ever heard.

"Yes. That is what it means to be a Hydra Head, Grant Ward. That is your new purpose, a goal for which you should always strive. Every decision you execute as a Head will directly affect Hydra's legacy."

"Thanks for the tip. What else do you have for me?"

"The information I am about to share with you is only meant for those such as us - Heads."

"She stays with me," Grant drawled, motioning towards Skye, looking bored but superior; she suddenly began to realize what it truly meant to be a good Specialist.

How had she ever thought that she could actually become a Specialist?

Skye had always known of Grant's cleverness, the inventiveness that it took to be a Specialist, but she was finally beginning to realize that being a Specialist meant being from another world, a lethal world where a single misstep could kill you. Every move had to be premeditated in three or four dimensions. While Jemma had always turned her nose down at Specialists, deeming them brutes incapable of higher modes of thinking, Skye realized that the intellect played a huge - huge! - role in the violent world that non-violent people like Jemma would never recognize. If Jemma or Skye herself was a Specialist, she knew that both of them would fail; they would be killed because they couldn't think fast enough or deeply enough.

"Would you reconsider?" Whitehall asked. "Perhaps Bakshi could- "

"That's my condition," Grant said, staring at Whitehall. "She stays. I've already told her a lot of things. Will my condition be a problem?"

Skye felt dread, for the way Whitehall's eyes gleamed through those glasses was so, so cold; how he observed her - like she was a prized specimen - made her skin crawl. "Very well. She is clearly special."

"Good. Then what do you need to tell me?"

"Von Strucker is missing," Whitehall said, but while Grant didn't react next to her, she was stunned to hear that the Hydra Head working with Loki's Sceptre was gone, but not stunned enough to miss the slight glee in Whitehall's voice; she remembered how Grant and Bakshi had spoken about Whitehall and Von Strucker's rivalry. "His base was decimated. Key experiments that he was conducting have also gone missing."

"An elite task force, perhaps?" Grant asked, voice calm. "Although, I can't think of any capable of such a mission. Sokovia's base was a fortress. Only a group with intimate knowledge about Hydra could pull something like that off. They'd have to know the layout… Actually, it could've been an inside job because all of Hydra's bases are designed the same. While the sizes are different, you can easily find your way around if you've been on another base."

"Do you think it was an inside job?"

"No. Who'd be idiotic and skilled enough to go after Von Strucker? And be able to leave the kind of destruction that would have to be unleashed to even get him? Able to know the layout of the bases and its weakest points? So that leaves… Well, hacking into the Pentagon is Stark's version of breakfast, so if I had to actually guess, I'd say The Avengers."

"A rational calculation, but you do not have all the facts. We have Agents watching Tony Stark, and he has barricaded himself with Dr. Banner in his tower. The Agents watching Jane Foster, Thor's lover, have reported that Thor has remained by her side for months. We believe that The Winter Soldier is responsible for Von Strucker's assumed abduction, the destruction of the base, and most damning, the liberation of Von Strucker's experiments. We believe that they have allied with The Soldier."

Skye understood what that meant - human experiments, just like The Winter Soldier and even Grant had been - and she was unable to keep her eyes from looking at Grant, remembering Dr. Zenfield's truths about the trail of bodies Grant's father was leaving, something which Whitehall noticed.

"You know of The Winter Soldier?" her mother's probable murderer asked, voice curious, devoid of any surprise.

She stiffened before abruptly relaxing; she could do it. "Who hasn't?" she asked flippantly. "I mean, the files after Black Widow dumped them over the internet were insane. Plus, how could a single person destroy an entire Hydra base? That's impossible."

"On the contrary, The Winter Soldier's unique ability to cripple entire bases has always been well-known." The way that Whitehall gazed at Grant forced Skye to wonder if he knew that The Winter Soldier was Grant's father. "Pierce was too lax in his handling of The Asset. Because of his follies, The Soldier has been lost to us - and thus, frustratingly, the plans we had for him have dissipated."

"Plans?" Grant asked, curious. She didn't know if he was curious for an act, or if he really wanted to know more about his… father.

"Originally, Pierce had other plans for The Asset after Project Insight. With Pierce's demise, the succession of control of The Asset would have been called into question if The Asset had not vanished. Malick wanted The Soldier as a host for his alien entity while Von Strucker and I each wanted The Soldier for the spirits of our… inquiries."

Skye was willing to wager her life that Whitehall was talking about experimentation when he said inquiries.

"But The Asset has broken away, learned to think and act for himself," Whitehall continued. "Initially, we weren't worried. You see, The Winter Soldier's identity revolves around Hydra; without his purpose to extend our supremacy, he is nothing. His reason to exist was effectively negated when he vanished. But we were wrong. His sense of authority and power have returned; he has become the reality of our worst fears. He has transformed into Frankenstein's monster with torment beyond that of that creature's, ensuring a much more dangerous foe - one with intimate knowledge of everything Hydra has accomplished and planned since his transformation."

While Skye thought that it might be more akin to Prometheus rebelling against the tyrannical Zeus, Grant didn't bat an eye at any of Whitehall's words, only easily shrugging his shoulders, and she could only wonder what Garrett was telling him. "Well, it's not surprising that The Soldier did it. I've heard the stories; he's the best. And clearly, he wants vengeance. He's got a vendetta against Hydra."

"And your vendetta is against S.H.I.E.L.D., correct?" Whitehall seemed to answer his own question as he nodded his head. "Yes, Bakshi mentioned that Phil Coulson killed your mentor after he had received his second chance at life."

"Yes."

Skye tried not to let her dismay show on her face, for with that information, she doubted that Grant and Coulson would ever see eye-to-eye about anything - except maybe about her, but even then, she felt doubtful.

"I understand your loathing for S.H.I.E.L.D.," Whitehall murmured, a spark of something flickering in his eyes. It was more unsettling than his toothless smiles. "You were imprisoned by those blind fools. I know how that feels."

"Then we're on the same page," Grant replied. "We have a common enemy."

She tried not to grimace; she was pretty sure that she succeeded.

"Good. I was curious when both you and Garrett vanished during The Uprising. I didn't know if you were dead or captured. Now I know it was both." Whitehall quieted for several moments, eerie eyes assessing, focused solely on Grant; she felt relieved they weren't focused on her. "Garrett introduced you to Hydra. How did he do so?"

Grant's eyebrow quirked. "He pulled me out of juvie. Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?"

"Then why did you join Hydra, Grant Ward?" Whitehall gave a patronizing smile and Skye was absolutely certain that Grant wanted to shoot him. "How did Garrett convince you at a mere fifteen years of age?"

"John said Hydra knew how to survive - like us."

Skye barely refrained from rolling her eyes at such a claim, which totally sounded like something Garrett would say.

Whitehall's lips stretched into a cold smile. "While my methods of survival were more successful than Garrett's, his methods live on in you. You are a survivor, Grant Ward - we are kindred spirits, as men and Heads."

Her hands curled into fists and she stuffed them by her thighs so Whitehall wouldn't see the evidence of her disgust and fury.

"Hydra does understand survival. Every man and woman, in the process of devotion, realize it. Your mother was one of the few brilliant enough to embody it. I knew her." At Grant's lack of reaction, Whitehall nodded to himself, as if something had been confirmed. "You knew your mother was Hydra?"

"A scientist," Grant answered flatly. "I'm a legacy member."

"And what led you to murder a fellow legacy member of Hydra, your own brother?" Whitehall didn't look angry at all, only curious.

"A family squabble," he responded carelessly. "It was a long time coming, believe me."

Whitehall hummed; it was unnerving. "Malick is furious with your brother's murder, but I'm not. Yes, there were plans in place once your brother was to take control of the White House, and those plans were derailed when you murdered him, but now… I believe superior plans will ensure Hydra's supremacy. The loss of your brother is gaping, but I believe that your arrival, your return and acceptance of your position, more than negates everything lost. Malick is a fool."

A chill descended Skye's spine, and her eyes widened when Grant laughed; it sounded completely genuine and authentic, but she inherently knew it was as false as Whitehall's kindness.

"I know I'm the best not named The Soldier, but that's awfully generous. I hate politics. If I go into Washington, I'd probably kill the first person to piss me off."

"Another ingress has been opened. A better one. We shall discuss it more at length another time." Skye stiffened as Whitehall turned to look at her, those horrible eyes seeming to stare into her soul. "Your siren looks overwhelmed. Tired."

Grant wasn't affected as he pulled her to her feet as he stood up. "I have something to do anyway. Bakshi mentioned someone unhinged - Mr. Zabo. How closely will I be working with him?"

Skye avoided the urge to look at Grant in confusion. Who was Mr. Zabo? Was that… her father?

Whitehall's eyes gleamed. "Are you afraid?"

"The only thing I'm afraid of is jeopardizing our alliance if I put a bullet between Mr. Zabo's eyes if he gets too crazy."

"I see."

"How about I go speak with him? Tell him what's what. Introduce myself, if you will."

Skye didn't like how Whitehall smiled. "Bakshi will take you to Mr. Zabo if you wish. This is the inception of a grand partnership of two Heads that will achieve great things."

Grant only nodded her head and motioned for her to follow him out the door.

Again, Skye didn't like how Whitehall smiled at them as they left the room.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Bakshi was a welcome face when compared to that of his master's. While she had the feeling that Grant wanted to kill him, he allowed Bakshi to lead them to the room where Mr. Zabo was. When they arrived, the room was empty, and Grant had just said they would wait until Mr. Zabo returned, inspiring Bakshi's departure.

She whirled to face him, face anxious. "Is it him? Is he my…?"

Grant grabbed her hand and pulled her to the couch, bypassing scattered papers strewn about on a table. "I think so. You've met him already, so with one look at him, you'll know. If somehow, it isn't him, I'll actually go find him."

Her heart beat faster and her breathing became choppy, rushed. May's teachings about control were nowhere to be found and she was left flailing in desperation, panic.

"I've imagined this moment so many times," she whispered, sighing in relief when his arms slowly enveloped her, and for the first time since she had stepped foot onto the Hydra base, she felt safe. "Even in my dreams, I've seen it. Now that it's here… I don't know. Part of me wants to see him, but another part wants to be as far away from him as possible."

Grant looked down at her, eyes intent. "Say the word, and I'll get us immediately off the base and far away. No questions asked."

"No," she said, closing her eyes tightly, shaking her head. "Even if it's a small part of me, it will always haunt me not knowing the truth. It's already haunted me not knowing the truth. To turn away fro- from this chance, it'd be so much worse. Remember what you told me about choices? Well, I've made mine. I'm going to talk to him."

"I think you've made the right choice. But… I don't know if you're going into it with an open mind."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you've already made up your mind that your father is a monster, and no matter what he says or does, he'll always be one. I think your sense of… fiction has overwritten reality."

"What?"

Grant sighed. "You know about Robin Hood, right?"

"Of course. What does that have to do- "

"Did you know that there was an actual Robin Hood? But he wasn't a noble of Locksley; he was a thieving, barbaric Saxon chief who opposed the Normans and is only praised because of a legend."

Skye stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"That man was fictionalized into a different variation of what he might have actually been, but he was real. Just like your father's real and he could have been fictionalized. Now, maybe your father is a monster unworthy to be thought about, but don't make that judgment until you know everything and have given him a chance to explain. Isn't that what you did for me? You finally let me explain and talked to me, and you realized that I wasn't a monster. You need to do the same for your father."

She swallowed. "You know a lot about history."

"I had a lot of time to read about it in the woods."

"Well, I'm just grateful that you understand what it's like to have… a difficult family," she whispered, taking comfort from his embrace.

"More than you know."

"I do know, and that's why I'm grateful. I kind of feel like your brother and my father are similar, but I don't think my father will lie to me. I mean, at first, your brother was in no way honest like Coulson said. It was only after- "

Grant stiffened. "He said that? Coulson?"

"He said that."

"That's what he said?"

"That's what he said."

His face spasmed. "That dumb son of a bitch."

It was that exact moment when Skye felt certain that there would never be a reconciliation between Grant and Coulson - thus, between Grant and S.H.I.E.L.D.. Too much blood, physically and metaphorically, had been shed. There was too much animosity, too much sheer hatred. While she had held out desperate hope, it now seemed impossible. The gap was too large for any bridge.

The thought of Coulson made her pause. She hadn't really thought about him since before Dr. Zenfield, not including the talk in bed between her and Grant, but what would happen when she saw him again - and she was certain that she would? Would he be disappointed with her? With the fact that she chose to stop fighting her love for Grant? With the fact that she'd already slept with him - and was definitely, absolutely going to keep doing so because the man made her body sing?

Coulson had been the father figure in her life for over the past year, but now that she had found and was about to meet her true father, what did that mean? Where did that leave her? And what about Grant? What about the chaotic, deadly relationship between her father figure in Coulson and her… her what? Her lover? It didn't matter what Grant was, but what did matter is that she didn't want to… leave him. She didn't want to have to choose.

Grant's hand suddenly squeezed her own; his gorgeous eyes were locked onto her. "I hear someone coming. Are you ready?"

Skye felt her pulse quicken, dimly wondering how enhanced Grant's senses were since he was a Super-Soldier - an even better one than Captain America and The Winter Soldier - but it was overshadowed by the knowledge that her father's arrival was imminent.

The door opened and her father - it was definitely her father, no denying it - froze at the sight of them, his face slackening, body shuddering underneath his suit, a myriad of expressions crossing his face as the door automatically swung shut.

Grant slowly pulled her to her feet, and she followed, feeling nothing but numbness. She had wanted to see her father again, to know the truth, but what if the truths were like Dr. Zenfield's?

Her father's eyes were wide and filled with tears, lips parted in shock, voice a whisper. "Hi. You look so much like your mother," he choked out. "A spit- spitting image." The tears slowly spilled down his cheeks and he looked so, so human; she almost forgot about all the deaths that he was responsible for. "Last time, it was too dark to notice, but now… you look just like her. Even the way you're anxiously wringing your hands - and those hands, they're just like your mother's."

Skye suddenly realized that she was doing exactly that and forced herself to stop, but it did nothing to stop the information about her mother from overwhelming her, the fact that she would never know her mother or see for herself how much she looked like her. Her free hands began to slightly shake and with Grant's concerned gaze giving her strength, she was able to make herself observe her father, staring at his features, looking for any resemblance between them.

She found none.

"I've imagined this moment," her father said, eyes filling with manic energy.

Apparently, she wasn't the only one who imagined how moments would play out. Her father and Whitehall had, and she did believe them monsters, so what did it mean that she did the same things they did? Was she a monster, too?

"But always, we were alone." Those manic eyes glared at Grant, fury etched deep within them. "Whoever you are, leave. I want to be alone with my lost daughter."

Skye was incapable of speech, completely unsure of what to say to her father, but thankfully, Grant spoke, looking so calm and confident; he suddenly looked more arrogant than anyone she had ever seen.

"Mr. Zabo, is it?"

"Who are you?"

"Well, since you clearly don't give a damn about being diplomatic, I'll act the same. Understand?"

Her father's face rippled. "I understand that I don't like you."

Grant shrugged. "I don't care. You're not what I was expecting. I pictured someone… bigger. A man of your reputation… I guess appearances are deceiving."

"You're not making this a pleasant reunion, something I've looked forward to for a lifetime."

"Your daughter puts up with me, which more than offsets any opinion you could ever have."

Her father's eyes flashed and she glimpsed the lurking insanity brighten like lightning in those eyes that looked nothing like her own. "I can rip you apart."

"Blunt. I like it, but I don't like being threatened. Makes me not like you - and while I don't care if you like me, I really want to like you for Skye's sake."

"That is not her name!" her father abruptly roared, taking a step forward but in the blink of an eye, Grant had pulled out his pistol and had it aimed directly at her father's skull.

Skye was frozen in place, senses faltering as she tried to get control of herself, to control the situation - but she felt powerless.

"Careful," Grant warned. "This isn't how I want your reunion to go."

"Then put the gun down."

"You're giving me orders?" To her shock, a small smile graced his lips. "I respect it, but no. I'll be the one giving the orders."

"Why would I follow your orders?"

"Because I'm the one with the gun."

"That won't stop me from killing you."

Grant nodded. "Yes. I've heard about your… ability to take out entire S.H.I.E.L.D. teams."

"Then you know what I'll do to you if you don't put down the gun. I don't like guns."

"And as I've already said, I don't like being threatened."

Her father's teeth gleamed like sharpened fangs. "You may be in the prime of your life, but as already observed, appearances are deceiving."

"I know all about that," Grant said, slowly putting down his gun, placing it back in the holster. Immediately, her father bolted forward and Skye's stunned eyes watched as her father snarled like a beast, fist surging towards Grant's face, but Grant simply caught it, squeezing tightly.

"What?" her father gasped in pain and realization, a light entering his insane eyes. "You're one of them?"

"A Super-Soldier," Grant said, smirking. Skye was about to intervene, but then Grant abruptly released the fist and shoved her father back, who stumbled back, falling to the floor. "Now I see why you have such a reputation. You're strong, but I'm stronger. Don't attack me again."

"Then leave," her father ordered as he stood back to his feet, the threat issued and based on Grant's expression, received.

"So that's it? That's how you're going to treat the one who got Skye away from S.H.I.E.L.D. and brought her to you?" Grant smiled mockingly and she didn't understand why he was intentionally provoking her father's rage. "You're very rude."

Her father's teeth gnashed together, looking like a rabid dog for a brief moment. "I'm very impatient. I want to speak to my daughter. Alone."

"Not only rude but ungrateful."

"So be it," her father replied sharply, staring at her.

Skye swallowed and grabbed Grant's arm, meeting his questioning eyes. "It's okay. I'll… I'll be okay."

Grant nodded at her and then stared at her father as he walked to the door. "I guess there's a lot of lost time to make up for."

He exited the room and Skye was left alone with her father.

"I never wanted it to be like this," her father hissed out, running a hand through his hair as he began to pace in front of her; he looked like a wild animal. "I- I had plans. I wanted our reunion to be perfect. It was supposed to be, bu- but- but it's been ruined." Her father's angry gaze snapped to meet hers. "That arrogant man, who is he?"

Skye tried to gather her confidence and crossed her arms. "He brought me to you. He convinced me to talk to you; he gave me the strength I needed to be here. Isn't that enough?"

Her father's eyes gleamed. "When you look at him the way you do, no. Not when he pointed a gun at me. Not when he's stronger than I am. Not when he tried to protect you from your own father!" She took a sudden step back, scared at the rage shining in those eyes, and her father's eyes lost all evidence of rage; it was replaced by sheer panic, desperation. "I would never hurt you. You must know that."

"How would I know that?" she demanded, finding courage in her anger. "How would Grant know that? All we know are stories about how much of a monster you are! The trail of death is paved by you!"

"Who is he?"

"I love him."

Her father's eyes watered with tears. "I knew it. I've spent decades looking for you, doing everything to herald our reunion, but your Grant beat me to it. You're no longer my baby girl; you're his now. You're no longer mine. I've- I've lost you ag- again."

Skye closed her eyes, trying to follow that line of thinking; it was crazy, but she had been used to crazy because some of Grant's thinking was totally messed up, too.

"I don't belong to anyone," she finally said, spacing her words. "I made a choice. Grant's amazing at things that I'm not, but I'm good at things that he's not."

"But you would do anything for him, yes?"

"Yes."

"I know that experience," her father whispered, pain-filled eyes locking onto her own. "I wasn't always like this, you know? You think I'm a monster. Maybe I am one, but I wasn't always. I once owned a clinic; it's how I met your mother. Everyone liked me an- and I… I liked them back. Everyone was so happy when we were married, but our… joy didn't last long. Your mother was everything to me. So were you." All remnants of humanity vanished when the mind-warping rage returned, stealing her breath. "They stole you from me."

It was just like Grant had said in Vault D, and while his observation about Robin Hood rang in her ears, Skye needed more than that; she stared into her father's rage-seeped eyes with anger of her own. "And you what, lashed out in murderous hatred?"

"Yes!"

"And how do you think that makes me feel? Knowing that you've spread all of this death, murdered all of those good people in my name?" Tears filled her eyes and she did nothing to stop them; her sudden anguish was too strong to control. "Do- do you think that makes me feel good? That it's because of me that- "

"It was because of them!" her father screamed, arms swinging chaotically, eyes rabid; he looked primed, shot up like a nuclear rocket. "They stole you from me! Just like Jiaying!"

Skye's lips parted, that name floating in the air. "Ji- Jiaying? Is that…?"

"Your mother," her father choked out, both despair and loathing fighting for control as he shook and jerked his body around. "Oh, you don't even know her name. Your own mother. Yo- you don't even know your name. The- they have taken so much from us. You don't know where you're from, do you? You know nothing of- of your heritage. Your destiny."

She slowly sat down on the couch, eyes warily watching her father. "Wha- what don't I know?"

Her father froze and as he turned to her, he looked so hopeful, so joyful. "Everything. I'll teach you."

"Where… am I from?"

"You were born in China." While she had begun to expect that she was born someplace other than The United States, it was still a shock to hear. "I met your mother there, and I loved her like no one else until you came along. You were a gift, so precious. An- and you were so happy as a baby." All signs of the rage were gone and her father looked lost in memories, voice calm and yearnful, eyes wet. "You didn't know how not to smile." The tears slowly began to fall. "And your laugh, I- I can still hear it. So beautiful. So wonderful. So innocent."

Skye felt overwhelmed and she floundered for any semblance of control. "And… my name?"

"Daisy. Daisy Johnson," her father said, murmuring it like it was a prayer, something holy. "Your mother's favorite flowers were daisies."

That was her name? Daisy?

She blinked rapidly, feeling a fog descend over her; she felt paralyzed, for she couldn't move! It was like the Senator but even worse. Everything was a blizzard, a tempest of freezing particles smashing against her face and skin, depriving her of whatever strength she had.

"Wha- what destiny are talking about?" she whispered.

Her father's eyes filled with zealous glee. "It's a moment I've waited for, for a long time. Once you are awakened, you will be able to aid me in destroying everyone who- "

"Are you Vader-ing me?" she demanded, leaning back into the couch, trying to instinctively get away from her father. "No. You don't know me. That is not who I am. I don't want whatever crazy things you have planned for me."

"It's your destiny."

"You are Vader-ing me," she gasped out. "What do you know about my destiny? What destiny?"

"Your mother was special."

Skye swallowed. "You mean a gifted."

"Don't use that word!" her father roared, causing her to spring back, heart racing. Her father's face twisted with remorse. "Oh, Daisy, forgive me."

"That's not my name," she hissed out, wiping the tears from her eyes. "My name is Skye."

"Daisy is the name your mother and I gave you."

"And I hold no memory of you or her," she snapped. "For all I know, you're lying to me."

"I would never lie about your destiny. Never." Her father slowly approached her, and she did nothing to stop him, beginning to feel a hollowness in her mind. "You are like your mother: Special. She came from a long line of people with gifts, and now it lives on in you; you inherited it. It's locked away, but I know how to unlock it. It's your birthright, Daisy. You and your mother are so much more than a mere gifted. You are beautiful. Divine. Soon, you'll see."

Skye's face twisted with disgust. "And being part of Hydra with you is my destiny?"

Her father's face twisted, too, but it wasn't with disgust - it was with rage, something which she seemed to slowly become immune to. "No! Hydra is scum. They don't matter; they're nothing!"

"Yet you're working with them," she spat out. "After what they did to… to my mother. Whitehall murdered her!"

"Yo- you know?" her father breathed out. "You know what happened?"

Suddenly feeling unsure, Skye responded slowly, "She was a gif- … She was special, and Whitehall killed her in his experiments."

Her father looked so sad but so, so angry - it was an unholy combination. "He cut her up into pieces, stealing her organs, her blood, her heart, as well as her life for his own." The words were said so awful, so horrible that she flinched. She had stared into her mother's murderer's eyes! She had… she had been in the same room as that monster! "I couldn't save her," her father mumbled, wringing his hands in the same manner that she had at the beginning, voice shaky, far away. "You see, I- I… I stitched her back together, hoping that her gift would… heal her, but it didn't. Then you were stolen from me - and I ceased to be living. I experimented on myself, injecting serums and chemicals, for I had to be stronger if I wanted to find you, to save you, but I never could." Their eyes met one another's. "My heart has remained beating for vengeance. I have never forgotten what was done to your mother, to you, and to me. When I learned that you were working with the same people who stole you from me, I allied with the man who stole your mother's life. All so that it would lead to this moment. To your destiny."

"There you go again," she whispered. "What destiny? You're not making any sense."

"Soon, it will. This time, things will be different." Her father looked so desperate that it brought tears to her eyes. "Your mother may be gone, bu- but we can still be a family."

"How can you say that when you're working with Whitehall?"

Her father inhaled slowly. "I allied with Whitehall over our shared hatred for S.H.I.E.L.D. and Phil Coulson, for it was my best opportunity to result in our reunion. What Whitehall failed to realize is that all alliances united by hatred are doomed. He doesn't matter anymore; the alliance is over. He's served his purpose."

Skye crossed her arms over her stomach, speechless.

"One day, you'll understand," her father swore. "I had to make a choice, and while it threatened to tear me apart, I did it so that I could see you again. Hydra, S.H.I.E.L.D., Whitehall, Coulson, they're all the enemy. Your destiny will soon- "

"Stop it with the destiny stuff!" she snapped, hands shaking, and she gripped her thighs, desperately wishing that Grant had never left. "I don't want my mother's gift or anything. I don't want it."

Her father's face softened, a glimpse of humanity briefly appearing. "My precious Daisy, oftentimes, the greatest gifts are the ones we never ask for. I never asked to meet your mother, nor to have her steal my heart with a single smile. You were our unplanned miracle, but you were the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I understand that you're overwhelmed, confused, but there will be plenty of time for questions. It will be okay, I prom- "

"Jus- just stop," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly. "I can't."

Skye heard her father's footsteps approaching and registered the weight of his body next to her on the couch. "You can and you will, but none of it matters right now. What matters is us. Just sit here with me. Please. I know you can go find your Grant, and I won't stop you, but… I'd really like to just sit here with you. We don't have to talk anymore."

She stayed on the couch.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Grant wandered the base, but no matter what he did, he continued to worry about Skye, about what was happening between father and daughter. Skye's father was fascinating, and while he better understood how such a small man could have such a blood-soaked reputation, he was more aware than anyone that there were always things hidden, concealed beneath the surface. He had honestly been expecting a Goliath-like figure, but Mr. Zabo was unassuming. It actually made Grant respect him more; he used his modest figure to his advantage.

The unnatural strength provided some answers but not all of them. Was he also a quick healer? Was that how he was able to survive and butcher S.H.I.E.L.D. teams? Did he have something similar to Specialist training? Why did he have that strength? Was he an alien? Maybe an Asgardian or something? Or was he an inferior Super-Soldier?

It had been simple to provoke him, and he definitely understood why Bakshi feared him, called him unhinged. There was a lurking madness in Skye's father, but it was something that could be used against Coulson and S.H.I.E.L.D. if directed correctly. Together, they could unleash incredible damage - if he ever got his flames back, if he could get them back.

But did he even want that anymore? After everything Zenfield revealed, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson seemed almost… insignificant. Forgettable. When Skye had asked him after sex if he had plans, it hadn't even occurred to him to remember his sworn oath to avenge John by destroying S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson. Skye had made him forget, something that he wasn't mad about.

Deep down, did he still want to destroy S.H.I.E.L.D., and more importantly, Coulson?

"You do want it," John hissed out. "How else are you gonna avenge me?"

But what about Skye? They had reached a point where she completely trusted him; her love since Zenfield had been his anchor in the midst of all of the crashing seas that were those horrible truths. But if he went after S.H.I.E.L.D., who she still viewed as family, what would be the result?

She would never trust him again.

Would it be worth it?

Grant didn't know. All he knew was that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson had murdered John and imprisoned him for months, but Skye's belief in him had opened up possibilities that he had dared never to imagine.

"Stop being such a pussy," John barked out. "Stop being weak! Be a man! Avenge me. You couldn't save me as you promised, but you can damn well avenge me!"

He hissed through his teeth, ignoring John, focusing back on Skye. While her father had confirmed that he wouldn't ever let something happen to his daughter, he was still worried.

Skye had been a lot more nervous about the meeting than she had ever said aloud, but the way she had clutched at him, burying her face into his neck, legs wrapped around his own, after having sex notified him more than her words could anyway. While she had briefly drowned out the echoes of everything that Dr. Zenfield had revealed, he had done the same for her worries about meeting her father - it had been perfect.

"Look who it is," John groaned out. "Why don't you just kill him?"

As Bakshi approached, Grant really considered it, but once again, quelled the urge. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"Mr. Whitehall has requested your presence," Bakshi replied. "He wishes to speak about Dr. Zenfield."

Grant nodded slowly, knowing it would look suspicious if he refused. Plus, Skye probably wanted more time with her father. "That was quick. Lead the way."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Whitehall smiled from behind his desk as Grant entered, immediately on guard because there were eight highly-trained Agents in the room; he could tell just by looking at them that they were skilled, but he couldn't tell what their purpose for being in the room is. Ultimately, it didn't matter. No man would ever be a match for him; no eyes, no throat, no groin safe from a vicious assault, swift and agonizing.

"Check their positions, their weapons," John ordered. "How vigilant are they? If things go to hell, who's your first target?"

"Wanted me to meet some of your Agents?" he asked, stepping towards the couch, analyzing everything and everyone.

"I see you met Mr. Zabo." Whitehall stared at him, an eerie smile on his lips.

"I did." He sat down on the couch that he had sat in only an hour ago. "He's a very… unique man."

"Indeed… Where is your siren? Did you leave her with Mr. Zabo?"

"Yes," he answered calmly. "She's fascinated by his information about the Obelisk. She stayed with him to listen about it."

Whitehall's eyes gleamed. "I'm sure she is. Would you like to hear what they're saying?"

"You dumb motherfucker!" John immediately roared. "Get out of there!"

Grant realized how played he had just been as foreboding hissed in his ears; he had been a fool! He had assumed when he shouldn't have! Underestimated Whitehall and overestimated Skye's father's ability to look and destroy any bugs and cameras in that room. Been too concerned about Skye to properly check that room.

Never rely on others - only yourself!

He remained in his seat. "Since you're an eavesdropper, are you a peeping Tom, too?"

"I have witnessed Mr. Zabo's unnatural strength." Whitehall turned the computer screen towards him and he watched, wary, as the scene of him easily catching Skye's father's fist and declaring that he was a Super-Soldier played out. "Which is why this was so surprising. You spoke with Dr. Zenfield, didn't you?"

"The one on your right," John hissed out urgently. "He's the weak link. Go for him."

Grant didn't act yet, but he knew that he had to time it perfectly. "No. That was a bluff. I'm just deceptively strong. Mr. Zabo isn't as strong as you think he is."

"So many lies… Does that mean you lied about your hatred for S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Whitehall leaned forward, eyes cold. "What about your whore?"

Whitehall was a dead man.

"I hate S.H.I.E.L.D. more than almost anything. That you can believe."

Whitehall hummed. "It's too bad that I don't. Agents!"

All of the Agents pointed their guns at him and he tensed. Why had he been such a fool? He should have never sat down on the couch.

"You dumb son of a bitch!" John screamed. "I told you! You shouldn't have been thinkin' with your dick!"

Grant surged to the right, diving and then spinning out of the way. Moving as fast as he could - and he noticed that he was significantly faster than the other Agents - he jumped to his feet and took control of one of the Agents, crushing the hands holding the gun, taking the weapon as his own.

He immediately realized his mistake.

The gun was too light - without bullets. Based on how no one had shot him, all the other guns were bullet-less. It had been a pretense, a charade, a way to lure him into reacting with deadly instincts, fueled by his Super-Soldier abilities, and he had walked right into it.

Fuck.

"We're fucked," John observed softly, mournfully. "Whitehall's a lot smarter than we gave him credit for."

"Quite a demonstration, Grant Ward," Whitehall observed, staring at him. "You are exceptional, clearly a Super-Soldier despite your prior denial."

"And you're a dead man," he snarled, throwing the Agent in his grip across the room and swiftly pulling out his pistol, aimed directly for Whitehall's brain. "You may be immortal, but you're not invulnerable."

Whitehall raised his eyebrows, unsurprised and unafraid. "If you kill me, your whore will be killed. Look at the cameras. There's a team of Agents for her and her father, prepared to terminate. They will be alerted and ordered to kill them before you can rescue her. Try to leave to save her without harming me or any of my men, my response will be the same."

Grant looked and felt all control of the situation vanish when he saw the squad of Agents outside of the room where he had left Skye with her father.

"I told you so. You dumb motherfucker."

He threw the gun away in defeat. "What do you want?"

"To learn exactly what you know." Whitehall gestured for him to retake his seat. "I believe now is the best time to disclose everything."

Grant clenched his jaw and sat back down, preparing himself for another round of unholy truths.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The Soldier remained silent as Wanda and Pietro murmured on the couch. He sat at the kitchen table, motionless, waiting for the past to converge with the present.

Upon realizing that Natalia had transferred all of the intelligence files of both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra - one and the same - onto the internet, allowing the ignorant public to peruse them as they wished before most were recovered and stored into secure, private databases, he felt proud of the student, the lover he had trained. Of course, the realization that Natalia had defected from The Red Room and Russia to work for the very intelligence organization that she had always been taught to despise made him feel even prouder. The fact that she had, in a twisted way, been working for Hydra didn't matter. She had managed to slip away into a better life, something they had both dreamed of together. It was his failure to ensure that their dream became a reality.

He didn't know if it was his own pride or James'; two men inhabited one body and they fought for dominance in a symbiotic relationship. The Soldier won most of the time but always, James survived continued to object and demand to be heard. Yet, to destroy Hydra, as was the goal of both, James must remain subjugated in their shared psyche; only The Soldier, the paramount predator born of agony and rage could destroy Hydra, not James.

While James was a killer, The Soldier could act as the monster James could not.

The fact that Natalia had been near him for years, but concealed away by Pierce - the sadist! - enraged him. Yet, according to what he had learned, she killed Pierce, something for which he loved her all the more.

She is a distraction, The Soldier declared into their shared psyche. We do not need her; we need nothing. The twins were a bounty we did not anticipate, but one of which we will take advantage. The Widow's involvement is unnecessary. We exceed her greatest output by a wide margin. We are surgical where others are careless. In this, The Widow might become careless. Her emotional connection to us might ruin everything.

Shut up! James countered, the force behind his words ringing in their mind. Unlike us, she's been awake the entire time. She'll know more than we do. We need her help.

We are more efficient than she could ever be, The Soldier intoned. We are superior. No one is better.

Except, apparently, my children! James snapped, seizing control. Get away from me, Soldier!

James inhaled deeply, observing the world through his own eyes instead of The Soldier's, and surprisingly, Wanda had learned her lesson to never touch his mind; she was unaware of the switch.

Looking around Natalia's apartment, memories flashed in his mind. Out of everything that he remembered, Natalia was the lone good thing, the purest beacon that inspired his hope. His memories of Steve were different; the situations were different.

The memories of Bucky Barnes were of another life, a different man. James was forged in the fires of torture and pain before The Soldier took over. But James survived; he refused to be extinguished. He swore to survive - and survive he did. Always loitering in The Soldier's consciousness, enduring the agony of The Chair, forever dormant until Natalia awakened him in The Red Room.

She had been through the fires with him, and she had soothed his deepest scars, bringing him peace when he thought that there was none. She was his salvation, his refuge - and he knew that he had been hers. They had found each other despite Hydra and The Red Room dictating their entire lives.

James suddenly heard light footsteps approaching the apartment and looked at Wanda and Pietro. "Quiet. Sit on the couch where she can see you. Don't try anything."

Before either could respond, the door to the apartment opened, and based on the sudden pause before the door was calmly closed, James knew Natalia's instincts were as sharp as ever.

The sound of Natalia's footsteps, breathing, and heartbeat were inaudible to anyone but him, and he soundlessly stood from the chair, approaching the corner of the refrigerator, concealing himself in the shadows of darkness - a familiar, comfortable position.

Without warning, bolts of jagged lightning streaked down, burning, searing into James' head, numbing the mind of The Soldier. For as Natalia entered his vision, he almost gasped; he was mesmerized by a ghost, a lovely apparition from years ago - the only good thing in his life. While she clearly wore a blonde wig, the face was the same, so sensual and soft-featured, and he intimately knew her body underneath those clothes, under the weapons he knew were adorning her sides beneath the jacket; her full, swollen breasts pressed the fabric of the jacket, and it was him who had taught her how to manipulate the visual. By drawing attention to her large breasts, one was distracted to the weapons beneath, the imminent death about to be spread.

It was incredible. In Natalia was the strength of James and The Soldier, for he - they - had trained her, taught her how to be strong, to survive. Even the guarded, feline-like walk, the rigidity of her arms as she aimed her pistol at Wanda and Pietro, attesting to her great proficiency in the deadly arts because of him - them. All he could see was himself in her; everything she was, he - they - gave her. He was looking at a reflection of himself, the perfect woman. The only one who would ever understand and accept his besmirched legacy of death.

Natalia hadn't registered his presence, focused on Wanda and Pietro,

Age has made her careless, The Soldier observed. Why do you persist in demanding she be part of this?

"Who are you?" Natalia demanded to the twins. "How many others are there?"

James mentally growled. It's beyond you. It's a human element that you can't understand.

Human elements guarantee death, The Soldier intoned. They are for fools.

Wanda held her hands in front of her towards Natalia as she remained on the couch, signaling that she wasn't going to do anything; there were no signs of a red mist. "We're not here because of you."

Our vengeance will be done sooner or later, he snapped. I want peace. She is my peace.

There is no peace! The Soldier roared, rage flashing through their shared mind. There can be no peace at all. Not ever.

Shut up!

"Not here because of me?" Natalia asked and James ignored The Soldier, focusing on her. "How many more are there? Is the building surrounded? Are you Hydra? Should I expect a death squad?"

Pietro tensed. "We're not them."

"Why would I believe you?"

Wanda placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. "We're not Hydra; we've had enough of them. We hate them."

Natalia didn't lower the gun; if anything, her grip tightened. "You haven't answered my question. Who are you? Why are you here?"

"We know who you are- "

"Then I guess I don't need this." In a smooth movement, she ripped off the blonde wig and the flaming red hair was vivid, scorching his eyes, causing him to gasp.

Natalia, at the sound, whirled around but he was even faster, reacting on deadly instincts; he dashed forward in the blink of an eye and immediately caught the gun aimed at him, crushing it in his hand.

She didn't react further, staring up at him with wide green eyes, stunned.

"We're here because we found someone who hates Hydra more than anyone," Wanda said, coming near them. "Him. I saw it."

The Soldier was nowhere to be heard and James let go of the mangled gun in his grip, backing away slightly. "It's good to see you, Natalia."

"You found me," she murmured stiffly, dropping the mangled gun

"I've known where you were for months," he admitted. "It wasn't hard."

Natalia subtly repositioned herself, but James knew it was only so that she could observe the twins and him at the same time. "Who are they?"

"We have names," Pietro cut in, frowning.

"They were experimented on by Hydra," James said, holding Natalia's gaze. "They used the Asgardian Scepter."

Her brilliant eyes closed. "Of course. Hydra stole it."

"Yes. But it's now out of their reach."

Natalia's eyes reopened. "You took it?"

"And hid it. Only I know where it is."

Pietro crossed his arms. "I don't understand why- "

The Soldier's presence was sudden and consuming. "I will not explain it to you. Your sister understands well enough without touching my mind."

Natalia stared at Wanda, considering. "You can…?"

"Read your thoughts, yes," the girl answered. "I try not to, but… some are always there."

"I see," Natalia said, making no effort to conceal her displeasure, the agitation she felt.

James stared at her, yearning pounding at him. "You're more beautiful than I remember."

He noticed the subtle tightness of her posture. "When you have that serum, Father Time is most kind regarding beauty," she quipped flatly, but her eyes drifted over him, focusing on the communist star on his bionic arm for a moment. "You don't look bad yourself. The beard's new."

"I've stayed away from you, trying to find an excuse to talk to you, to see you. Now I have one. I need your help."

Natalia was unblinking. "What does The Winter Soldier need help with?"

James closed his eyes. "I have children."

Silence.

When he opened his lids, Natalia blinked at him; he couldn't decipher her expression. "Children? From… when before you were The Soldier?"

He frowned. "No. They're in my file; so are you." Memories of how the conception of his children came to be flashed in his mind; he felt nauseous, violated, for he remembered the woman who had borne his children. She was as much a bitch as he could imagine, but he allowed none of his inward dismay shown on his face. "You… don't remember?"

Natalia looked away from him and when he noticed that Wanda stared at her in sympathy, James glared, feeling The Soldier slowly return. "Leave. Go across the street to the cafe. Wait there."

Wanda didn't look surprised. "I thought you'd say that. May I say something very quickly?"

"Very quickly," he ordered.

"She's thinking about all the ways to escape."

"Stay out of my mind," Natalia said, the promise of agony shining in her brilliant green eyes. "Because you know what I'll do to you based on what I'm thinking right now."

Wanda swallowed. "I understand."

"Make sure you never misunderstand."

Pietro frowned and opened his mouth, but Wanda elbowed him, a request for silence, and they walked out of the apartment.

James was left alone with Natalia for the first time in decades.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he murmured.

Natalia smiled but it wasn't her true smile; he hated it. "Why should I trust you? In our last two encounters, you shot me. If I didn't know that you wouldn't feel it, I would repay the favor."

James could do nothing but stare at her, ashamed and sorrowful. "I'm sorry."

"The only reason I haven't demanded you leave is the fact that you did shoot me. You didn't kill me when you easily could have. It gave me hope."

The memories of having her in his crosshairs assaulted him, and he remembered roaring at The Soldier, demanding that he not harm Natalia. It had been an overwhelming struggle, a vie for dominance, but while James had lost, he had kept Natalia alive.

"The Soldier wanted to eliminate you," he whispered. "I tried to stop him, and maybe I did, but he still shot you. I'm sorry."

Natalia nodded, face minutely softening. "I hear James. The Soldier would never apologize."

"No, he wouldn't."

"I never pictured you taking in strays. It's surprising."

James accepted the change in the topic. "Hydra will come for them. They can't protect themselves. I'm teaching them control."

"Like you did me?"

"Yes."

"You're the best teacher they could ever have. They don't know how lucky they are that you saved them." Natalia stepped into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "The girl can… read minds, but what can the boy do?"

"Run fast. Once trained, he'll be faster than me."

Natalia's brow rose in interest. "Fast metabolism?"

"He eats as much as I do. But I'm not here about the twins."

"Yes. Your children. What about them?"

"What do you remember, Natalia?"

"Some things are missing," she said shortly. "What about you?"

"Everything. I remember all of it." His fists clenched, inward agony sparking, enlarging. "But even though I remember, there are some things that I don't understand. There's a difference."

"I know," she whispered and he took strength from it. "I remember things that I don't understand, too."

"I remember us." He approached her; she didn't step away. "I wanted to leave with you… I tried to… but they forced us apart, made me forget. Put me in that fucking chair."

Natalia's body was tight, eyes blazing with tension. "I remember."

"Do you understand it?" he asked softly, feeling the full depths of all the pain and rage and sadness his memories inspired. "They said it was because you 'corrupted' me, made me too human because I nearly destroyed them. I was so close, but… Yelena ruined everything. She betrayed us, doomed us." The knot in his chest became unbearable and he squeezed his fingers into fists. "I'm sorry, Natalia. I failed. I failed you. Failed us."

"Stop," she ordered quietly but there was a desperation in her green eyes. "You said children. What children? Did… did they breed us?"

James remembered his file. "They wanted to, but… they couldn't."

"Because I'm sterilized," she finished flatly.

"They used someone else. A Hydra scientist who… I remember her. She was like everyone else: Heartless."

Natalia's lips thinned. "Your children, are they like you? Super-Soldiers?"

"They have powers." James' fists clenched, both metal and flesh, and he backed away, pacing in front of her; it felt hauntingly familiar. "Based on what my file said and what I remember, my… children are genetic experiments. They're Super-Soldiers but… they also have powers."

Natalia laughed but there was nothing amusing in it. "Of course. Their depravity knows no bounds. I'm not surprised."

"I wish I was."

"Do you want to… see them? Is that it? You want to meet your children who would probably kill you?"

"No one can kill me. I am superior."

"I hear The Soldier."

James reasserted himself. "But he's right. They wouldn't be able to kill me before The Soldier takes over and kills them in turn. Maybe there's hope for them, for my children. Maybe I can get them out of Hydra if I find them."

Natalia blinked, something crossing her face. "I'm sorry. I never knew about your children. If I did, I would have…"

"Would have what?"

"I would have rescued them. Gotten them away from Hydra and The Red Room. But I didn't." He noticed that her hands twitched, a subtle shaking appearing before she controlled it. "I failed. All I do is fail. I tried to look for you after The Red Room was disbanded, but I failed. You had vanished. They made sure of it. I failed to know about Hydra. I failed to know about your children, and they were forced to be weapons, weren't they? Like us?"

"That's why I'm here."

"Then why come to me now? Why not Steve?" she demanded. "I know you remember him. You must realize that he's been going out of his mind looking for you. He'd be a better help than me."

"I'm not the man Steve knew." James shook his head, his mane of dark locks rippling with aggressive movement, memories assaulting him. The doubts and anger he felt. "He won't understand. He's not like me. He's not like us, Natalia."

"True, but I don't think you're giving him enough credit. I think he can learn to understand."

"I knew Steve for over twenty years. I know him."

"Do you?" she challenged, meeting his gaze. "You've changed, yes, but so has he. He's not the Steve Rogers you knew. You're both different, James. And you didn't see him when he realized what happened to you. I did."

James felt regret. "He blames himself?"

"Yes, he does. He blames himself for everything that happened to you, how things turned out." Natalia drew in a ragged breath, green eyes wounded and in pain. "I blame myself for how things turned out. You said you failed to… run away with me, but it was me who trusted Yelena and convinced you that it would all work out."

"I couldn't kill either of you," James whispered, and he was staring directly at the scars he knew were on her body beneath her clothes, the ones he had given her. "My mind was on fire, the compulsion to kill both of you so… It burned, Natalia, but I didn't do it even though I wanted to, needed to. Something stopped The Soldier - something human."

"You stopped The Soldier, James. Otherwise, Steve and I would be dead. You clawed at the predator and distracted him."

"Even on that Helicarrier, I could have killed him so many times," he murmured in a daze. "It would have been so easy. Effortless. But him in that damned uniform, it sparked something. An awareness. The Chair, for some reason, didn't do its job, and I had that… awareness because of that uniform. That bastard knew it, too; he did it on purpose. I know he did."

"He did," she agreed softly. "He was going to get you back or die trying, James. That's how he still feels. He's looking for you."

"I know. All of Hydra is looking for me, every intelligence agency in the world, and so many mercenaries, but among all of them, Steve is there." James barked out a laugh, but he wasn't amused. "That stubborn punk. Even when I… smashed his face in, crushing the bones with my fists, he just… he kept talking," he breathed out, raw emotions swelling inside, overwhelming him. Natalia stepped towards him, face soft, angelic-like; she was his reprieve. "He wouldn't fight back. The only time in his life he chooses not to fight back, and I… I made it look like Death raped him."

Natalia grabbed his shaking hand, voice soft. "But you pulled him out of that river. In the end, you saved his life. You didn't kill him when you easily could have. So, are you avoiding Steve because you fear he won't understand everything that's happened, or because you fear his reaction? I think it's both."

"I fear nothing."

"Oh, I hear The Soldier again."

James grit his teeth. "I don't want to disappoint him."

Natalia raised a brow. "But you were willing to come to me? What if I'm disappointed in you?"

"You're not because you understand. I don't know if Steve will."

"Then give him a chance to. I didn't think that he had what it took to deal with Hydra during Project Insight, but he surprised me. I think he can surprise you, too."

"Nothing surprises me."

She stared at him pointedly. "You're not who I'm talking to, Soldier."

James forced The Soldier out. Get away!

You are weakening, The Soldier informed. This weakness can kill us. Desist!

Don't you learn? Shut up! James retorted, feeling The Soldier slip away. I can handle this. I don't need you right now!

"Sorry," he said softly.

"I understand, and maybe Steve won't understand immediately," Natalia said evenly. "You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who would immediately, but I think if we explain it to him and answer his questions, he can understand."

James stared down at her, hope blossoming in his shriveled heart. "We?"

"We were always a duo and we were the deadliest duo in history. Steve won't stand a chance."

"Will you help me find my children?"

"Yes. What can you tell me about them?"

James recalled everything his file said. "There were four, but only two are still alive. Three sons and one daughter. The daughter was the eldest, and she was followed by two more births. The last birth was twin boys, and they're both dead. One drowned to death as a child and it sounded like he was similar to Steve before the serum: Frail."

"I'm sorry. What about your… other sons?"

"One is a Senator, and the other vanished fifteen years ago; the file said he was dead."

"And your daughter?"

"I don't know. All I know is she's alive, but I don't know where she is. I'm hoping her… brother will know."

"It will be harder to get a Senator, especially one who, most likely, will want to kill you. Who is he?"

"Christian Ward."

Natalia's eyes widened. "Ward? Are you sure?"

James frowned. "Yes. Do you know him?"

She sucked in a breath. "Of course. I should've seen it. I should've seen a lot of things. Senator Christian Ward was murdered several weeks ago by his brother, Grant."

"No. The file said- "

"The file was wrong about that, James. Grant Ward worked for Hydra while in S.H.I.E.L.D., and I saw him a few times. He looks like you - a lot like you, actually. It's why I avoided him. But he's good, and I heard whispers that he might be better than me. If he is your son, then he is better than me; knowing he comes from you makes him so much more dangerous than I ever thought he was."

He digested all of that, inward pain all-too-familiar. "Two of my children are still dead. One of my sons murdered his brother. Look what Hydra does. Look what they beget. I'm going to kill them all, and nothing will stop me."

Nothing will stop me, The Soldier corrected. I will destroy and then we will be free. It is all that matters.

"Maybe it's time I clean out the red in my ledger with a different red. The blood of the guilty instead of the innocent."

"Do you know where… Grant is?"

"Manhunts have been searching for him, but they've found nothing. As I said, he's good, James. Not like you, but he's more capable than just about anyone. Like father, like son."

He clenched his jaw. "Then he's back in Hydra, and… he's one of the Heads. That's what Von Strucker said."

"Wolfgang von Strucker? You killed him?"

"Yes. If I'm going to… get Grant, I think I'm going to need… help. There's a reason why I've been focusing on European and Asian Hydra bases and Agents."

"You'll need Steve," Natalia concluded. "Two Super-Soldiers, your strays, and I should be more than enough. Not to mention Wilson."

James forced away his nervousness about seeing Steve again. "Destroying Hydra and getting my children is all that matters. Hydra will burn." His words reminded him of something mentioned in his file. "Grant is… pyrokinetic."

Natalia raised her brows. "The Grant Ward I knew was never fire-proof."

"Christian's powers were a form of telepathy; he could control anyone by speaking. My file said that Christian made Grant forget about his powers. Most of who he was. I need to… fix it."

"Plans are fragile, James. You taught me that, but you are willing to potentially risk everything, go into the heart of Hydra it sounds like, for your son. Why? You don't know how Grant will react to you. He may attack you. He killed his brother. He may try to kill his father."

"I know," he whispered. "But it's a human element that The Soldier will never understand. Just like he doesn't understand you; he sees you as a target, a weakness, something to exploit."

"How charming," she said dryly. "I know The Soldier, James. I am well aware of what he thinks about me. But I want to know what you think. Explain the human element."

James clenched his jaw and despite himself, The Soldier roaring in his mind, he was honest. "If I help my son, maybe I can redeem myself that way, too. Everything I've done through the decades for Hydra, for The Red Room, it was all me. I can blame it on The Soldier, but The Soldier's part of me, which makes him me. Maybe I can regain the family I never knew I made. Even if Grant hates me, wants to kill me, it doesn't matter. I need to find him, confront him. You should understand."

Natalia's gaze softened. "I do, but I wanted - maybe needed - to hear you say it. And, if I'm not mistaken, helping Grant will be another way you can triumph over Hydra, the way they controlled your life. You were never to know about Grant or your other children, but if you find him, save him from whatever Hydra has planned for him, you gain victory. In a way, you'd negate everything that happened."

He stared at her. "You do understand. You're the only one who does."

"Charmer. I think I hear Bucky Barnes. I can count the number of times on my hand Steve ever talked about Bucky before Project Insight and still have fingers left, but it was always about how good Bucky was with women."

James nodded. "Maybe. But Bucky's been dead for seventy years; he's not coming back. I'm not him. To survive, Bucky had to die and James and later The Soldier took his place."

"I know, and I think Steve will eventually know that, too."

"Experience has taught me that foresight is foolish."

"But hope isn't. You're listening too much to The Soldier. What does The Soldier know about humanity except how to destroy, expose, infiltrate, and manipulate?"

"Maybe. I don't know anymore. Hope isn't how I broke free. It's not how I'm avenging everything done to me, to us."

"Give it time. It took me a long time for me to feel hope again, but feeling hope proves you're human. Not a robot or weapon. Hope is a necessary, fundamental trait to feeling human, to not be what Hydra and The Red Room made us."

James considered her. "Maybe once I destroy Hydra, I'll be able to have hope. It's been a long time since I've had hope. Decades."

"We're both old, James," Natalia murmured. "And if I feel this way, I can't imagine how you feel."

"What do you feel?"

"While our bodies may not age, our minds do; they grow wiser." Natalia slowly sat on her couch and James sat in the chair perpendicular to her position. "I mean, I still look the same, but I don't feel the same."

"Mentally."

"Yes. Visually, I'm still that young woman, the postadolescent woman who sees herself doing the things that I want to. I'm still young, but only on the outside. The motor controls are there and they always will be, just like the strength of will; I'm forever master of my body. But my mind… it's slowly started to reject the necessity to make immediate decisions - both intellectually and physically. In short, I don't care as much as I used to. Not like I did in The Red Room. Not when I was young."

"I think you just revealed that you couldn't kill me - if it's even possible."

Natalia's lips curled. "Don't count on it, James."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Fascinating," Whitehall commented after Grant finished. "You know much, but not everything. Your mother was brilliant and everything Hydra represents, she embodied beautifully," the voice was full of eerie admiration. Grant remained seated, forced to listen and interact, communicate, or Skye would be killed. "Of course, I was never part of your project. It would have been a great joy and honor to be part of it, but S.H.I.E.L.D. took that from me when they imprisoned me. By the time I was released and regained my life through… someone special, you were already a child, progressing as you were designed. Everything was going according to plan, but then you disappeared from the Juvenile Detention Center, in which you were to learn discipline and respect."

"You're welcome, son," John said. "Without me, you'd have been like your old man."

Grant nodded his head. "John got me out of juvie."

"Yes, and five years later, a new Grant Ward appeared under Garrett's endorsement," Whitehall said distastefully. "I should have seen it, we all should have, but we were outwitted by a mere soldier."

"You're not as smart as you think you are. John stole me right out from under your fucking noses."

"I saved you."

"Garrett stole you when he should have had no knowledge of who you were."

Grant leaned forward, for it was something he had been wondering. He might as well make the most of the situation. "Then how did he know who and… what I was?"

Whitehall's eerie eyes closed briefly, a spark of outrage. "I believe it was Pierce. Garrett and Pierce were close. While Fury was Garrett's S.O., Pierce was the one who saved him, bringing him to Hydra's attention. Because they were close, Garrett learned many things he never should have. Including who you were. Pierce could never keep his mouth shut; he loved to talk. It must be also how Garrett knew about the Super-Soldier repressor shots."

"No wonder he and John were close," he said idly, digesting everything that Whitehall just revealed.

"It makes sense," John commented. "I used to talk to Pierce quite a bit, remember? He put me into the Deathlok Program, and I made sure I was close to him. He's how I got to become a Head; he recommended me."

"Yes. After your return, everyone of importance in Hydra knew of you; you were the personal protege of one of our highest members, a man for whom Pierce had much regard and respect, but we never knew if you were our Grant Ward." A flash of bitterness crossed those usually impassive features and Grant was swept away by more truths. "You showed no signs of enhanced strength or healing, and while you bore the resemblance to The Soldier, it wasn't enough. All the blood work was negative. We believed that Garrett had stolen the identity of the missing Grant Ward and shaped a protege into it like a glove, possibly manipulating the flesh through surgery to make this man look like our Grant Ward."

Silence. All of the Agents were expressionless and he should have realized sooner that they were brainwashed under the Faustus Method.

"Now what?" he demanded. "You kill me?"

Whitehall's eyebrows rose. "Kill you? Absolutely not. You are the key to my plans, to Hydra's plans. You may also be the only one who can stop your father."

"You hear that?" John asked. "You're gonna be two-for-two in killing both your fathers."

"You have returned to Hydra, your birthplace. We are your creator, and now, you will do for what you were destined."

"Careful," he chided dangerously. "Destinies are rarely what you expect."

Whitehall smiled thinly. "I was thrilled when you agreed to come to me, but when you brought her, your whore, all of my deepest yearnings were answered. You are Hydra's greatest gift, Grant Ward, but I know of your love for that whore you believe to be a human."

Grant sat, considering. Skye wasn't human? She was an… alien?

It wasn't a grand revelation that shocked him to his core, but even though he had known that it was somehow a possibility based on her parents, he still felt surprised, but he still had a role to play - he would stop falling into traps!

"That explains how the fuck she got better after the GH-325," John suddenly said.

Grant snorted, trying to buy time to figure out what to do, how to get out of the situation. "I don't believe you."

"But the evidence is before you," Whitehall countered, eyes predatory. "Your S.H.I.E.L.D. whore isn't human. Her mother wasn't, either, and it was one of the reasons I killed her. I took everything from her mother; if you look at my cellular structure, it isn't human."

"I don't think Whitehall was ever really human in the first place," John pointed out. "Those eyes, the only ones similar that I've seen are flowers'. Maybe she ain't human, either. Wouldn't surprise me."

"You see, your whore is part of an invasive species that threatens the entire natural order, the new world in which you will help Hydra herald." An unholy light entered Whitehall's eerie eyes. "Once I discover what makes your whore tick, you will be the fire that consumes the invasive species."

"The hell I will," he said, chuckling, gesturing to the emotionless Agents. "The Faustus Method doesn't work on me like it does them. John made sure I would never be affected by it; he trained me. No… I'm going to kill you."

Whitehall sighed. "I thought you might say that. Agent Morton, do it."

Grant swiveled to his left and saw a circular device held in Agent Morton's hand.

"What the fuck is that?" John wondered. "It looks like a- "

He cried out in pain as an unholy screeching sound assaulted him. It was a sonic device, sounding like thunder and gunshots meeting together in an unholy clap in his ears, disorienting his senses. Grant's vision wavered as he fell out of the couch to his knees, senses overwhelmed.

Thankfully, it stopped but before he could do anything else as he was still gathering his bearings, Whitehall kneeled in front of him, abruptly injecting a needle into his neck. The liquid was expunged and he was too jarred to properly react.

"Your mother's repression serum will make you comply," Whitehall murmured, smiling, and while he could barely hear him, he understood. "Your whore will, too."

Grant blinked back his pain, the utter feeling of weakness that seemed to envelop him; he felt human, mortal.

"You motherfucking bastard," he snarled, glaring up at Whitehall. "I'm gonna rip out your spine."

"Whatever Oedipal fixations I have are not your concern."

"Why the fuck didn't you listen to me?" John demanded. "Look what happens when you don't listen, you dumb fuck! Now you have no advantage! You're weaker now than you've ever been!"

"I'm going to get free and- "

"We contained your father for seventy years, and while you were designed to surpass everything of which he is capable, you haven't reached your potential. Not yet." Whitehall's eerie eyes gleamed. "You are no Winter Soldier."

"I'm a Head," he tried, thinking quickly. Although, he noticed that his thoughts seemed slower somehow. "This is how you treat fellow Heads? Is this the relationship between the Heads? If so, sooner or later, I'll be taking your head."

"Like Mozart, who prospered under the guidance of his father, I will guide you into becoming Hydra's greatest Head."

"Who's gonna save you, son? Your girl ain't, and I'm too dead. Is this where you kick the bucket? Will you be joining me in Hell momentarily?"

He thought of Skye, of how he had failed to see the trap into which they had walked. While he had thought he was playing Whitehall, Whitehall had been playing him - and so easily!

Damn it!

"Maybe you did create me," he murmured, feeling whatever strength he had left in his body; it would be enough to get at Whitehall. "Maybe I'm everything you say, but you don't get to decide."

Grant lunged forward, hands extended like claws, diving into Whitehall, but before he could break Whitehall's neck, the butt of a gun smashed into the back of his skull.

His vision blackened, pain exploding through him - and he had forgotten how weak and slow it felt to be human instead of a Super-Soldier. The Agents began to viciously beat him, pummeling his human body until he shook with pain as blood was shed.

"Enough," Whitehall called out and Agents scooped Grant upward, and he was barely able to lift his head, but he glared at Whitehall.

"Go fuck yourself," he spat out, blood dripping past his lips. "Then, as John would say, go fuck your dead mother."

"And then his dead sister if he had one!" John cried out. "What's that shit called? Necrophilia, right?"

Whitehall smiled thinly. "Fire is both the most destructive and purifying force in the universe. Out of the ashes of the destruction you will herald, a purified world order will arise to lead the human race. You are part of the cycle, Grant Ward. It's a cosmic cycle of creation and destruction. Not even the Tesseract would have shaped the new world, but you will. You will blacken and burn this world's atrocities to ash, unearthing the habitat of the invasive species, and then bringing them to me. You see, fire is perfect. Essential. Only through fire, only through you, can we achieve our greatness as a species. You will purify us; you are the key. You will be a composer of death for the greater order."

"Speak English!" he spat, adrenaline pumping through him, but he was powerless to combat everyone in the room. "Or Mandarin or Russian or any language. Because I don't speak bullshit!"

"Atta boy!"

"I see Dr. Zenfield failed to mention that part," Whitehall mused. "Regardless, you will be fluent in my line of thinking, the concept of your destiny. This will be a partnership that will ensure Hydra's supremacy. You will comply, Grant Ward. While the Faustus Method won't work, there are… other methods. Your purpose as a Head has just begun. Your legacy will be greater than anyone's when all is finished and revealed; it will be for all-time."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"How can you say that?" Skye demanded, staring at her father. "I'm not like you. I'm not gonna go around and kill- "

"You don't want to avenge your mother?" her father's eyes sparked chaotically. "She wa- "

"I didn't know my mother! How can I avenge someone I never met?"

"Your mother loved you- "

"I'm sure she did, but that doesn't change anything. I didn't know her."

Her father's eyes filled with tears. "If only you did. She was so kind and warm; she made me feel welcome in a country that wasn't my own."

Skye swallowed. "I wish I remembered her."

"She'd be so proud of you," her father whispered, staring at her. "Look at you. A grown, beautiful woman ready to achieve your destiny."

And just like that, whatever peace made was shattered.

"Why won't you listen?" Skye demanded. "Don't you get it? I'm not doing it. This specialness you keep talking about, it's not me. I don't want it."

"Your Grant is a Super-Soldier, and you love him. If you accept that he's special, why can't you accept that you are?"

Skye stared back at him, trying to control her heartbeat. "No. You're not going to turn this around on me."

Her father's eyes widened, desperation blatant. "This is all about you, Daisy. Everything has led to this moment. You're more special than your Grant could ever be. Why won't you listen?"

"For all I know, you're lying," she hissed out. "You keep saying you wouldn't ever lie to me, but I don't trust you. Why should I even believe that? 'Cause I know I'm not special. Maybe above-average, but that's it. I'm no genius. I'm not amazing like Grant or- "

"You must be awakened!"

"Awaken what? A monster hiding deep inside?"

"Your gift," her father corrected, voice rising; his manic eyes portrayed his desperate confusion. "You're not alone. There are others like you- "

Suddenly, the door opened and her father whirled around, teeth barred like a rabid dog, and Skye paled as Whitehall and a legion of guards entered the room.

"You know of the creatures' habitat?" Whitehall asked, staring at her father with cold eyes, but Skye didn't care about that. She was petrified, staring at the bloodied and beaten Grant thrown to the floor.

Horror raged inside and she dove for Grant, cradling his head in her lap, ignoring the blood - his blood! - staining her clothes. "Grant! Wha- Grant!"

He blearily blinked his swollen eyelids open and his gorgeous eyes teemed with rage and sorrow. "I'm sorry," he whispered, blood collecting at his lips. "I was… tricked."

Immediately, Skye knew that she was trapped and that Grant wouldn't be able to get her out of Hydra. From the looks of it, Grant wasn't a Super-Soldier anymore. Did Whitehall have those Super-Soldier repressor shots? Was that what happened?

"Surround, Mr. Zabo," Whitehall ordered. "His ability to survive is impressive, but a fusillade of armor-piercing bullets at close range will kill him."

Her father's body shook, eyes bursting from their sockets with sheer hatred as the guards surrounded him, guns aimed for his skull. "If my daughter wasn't here- "

Whitehall interrupted lazily, "If your daughter wasn't here, we would still be playing our little game. We both had ulterior motives for our alliance. You thought I didn't remember, but I do. I know you. You could say I'm the reincarnation of your wife." The toothless smile elongated into something sinister. "I took all of her. I knew her intimately. I knew her body in ways you never did- "

Skye watched, horrified, as her father roared in fury and lunged forward, but collapsed to the floor when his body was riddled with bullets, the sounds exploding through the air. She stared at the blood leaking out of him, and his bright eyes met hers as he thrashed and cringed.

"I'm not going to kill you," Whitehall mused, standing over her father. "You have information I need, and I know it is such a cliché, but there are ways to force you to share your knowledge. We will make you talk. Your information about the Diviner is crucial. As well as the knowledge of the creatures' habitat. It will herald Grant Ward's- "

Grant groaned in her lap and he glared at Whitehall. "Like I said, not happening."

Whitehall turned to stare at Grant but then his gaze turned upon her, and Skye wished Grant hadn't spoken; those eyes, they were so terrible. "Yes, the whore. The moment I saw you, I knew."

"Knew what?" she snapped, mind blazing with sheer panic. There was no escape. There were at least twenty guards and both Grant and her father were too beaten to do anything.

"That the daughter has come to give me whatever I could not acquire from the mother because, just like your mother, you are special. The resemblance between you and her is beyond striking, almost as if your mother's genes were all dominant, superior." Whitehall stepped closer and Skye stiffened, mentally trying to calculate if she could grab one of the guards' guns and kill Whitehall - and she wouldn't have a problem killing him! - and pull a Rambo by taking out everyone, but this wasn't the movies, and she could do nothing but listen to Whitehall. "Your mother was immortal, and her gift allowed her to last a week under my inquiries; she possessed a fire that I see in you."

Skye remembered Dr. Zenfield's words about the immortal woman - her mother!

"I knew she had a daughter, and I looked for little Daisy for decades," Whitehall continued, gaze enveloping Skye, and Grant remained quiet, listening; she hoped that he was trying to summon his flames or something. Skye could barely breathe, only stare. "Now that Grant Ward has returned to Hydra, it is perfect. Two special people who I have spent much time and resources looking for appear together - in love. It's tragic. Not even Goethe could have written it better."

Grant shifted and slowly propped himself up on his elbows, and then drew himself to his knees. "I don't have my flames. Christian took them away. You're not getting anything out of me."

Whitehall frowned. "Perhaps making you watch as I dissect your whore will entice your flames to return."

Skye paled but her father howled from his position on the floor, bleeding. "You touch her, I'll tear you limb-less! Her gift is dormant still! It's not unlocked yet. You wouldn't find anything!"

"Then you will provide the answers to unlocking her gift." Whitehall waved to several of the guards. "I fear Mr. Zabo is too unhinged to undergo the Faustus Method, but my inquiries will suffice. Take him to my lab."

Her father thrashed, but he was too weak, body too desecrated from the bullets as the guards lifted him up, locking his arms and legs in place, viciously twisting the limbs in unnatural ways. "I'll die before I tell you anything!"

"We shall test that belief," Whitehall murmured. "Among many others."

Skye tried to say something to her father, but she was deprived of whatever words she wanted to say because she didn't know. Instead, her father stared at Grant and something seemed to pass between them; then, her horrified gaze met her father's as they hauled him out of the room.

"Daisy, I love you." Her father tried to smile but looked more like a grimace. "Don't worry about me. I'll be alright."

Before Skye could retort, he was gone - and she had no idea if that would be the last time she ever saw him.

"You're a monster," she spat out, glaring at Whitehall's form, ignoring the very real danger that could befall her if Whitehall wished it. "I hope you have a brain aneurysm."

Whitehall turned back to look at her. "A subjective illustration. You may be special, but you are still a child. I will discover your gift, what makes you tick, and then you will share the fate of your mother. I wonder if you're immortal, as well."

"I should have blown your head off when I had the chance," Grant growled out, gingerly standing to his feet; all of the guards' guns were aimed directly at him. "I'll have the chance again, and I won't let it pass by."

"As I have told you once already, time will tell," Whitehall murmured. "And there is much time to discover. Not everything is ready, but it will all align. You will be the fire that cleanses the world of the invasive species to which your whore belongs, and I will learn more about these creatures from your whore via my inquiries."

Grant weakly hauled Skye to her feet, face twisted with blood and rage. "You fucking- "

"Being immortal, I can be patient. However long it takes, I won't mind."

Skye swallowed and looking at Whitehall, feeling the tremors rippling through Grant as his human body struggled against the beaten he had been subjected to, she desperately hoped that Coulson and S.H.I.E.L.D. had been somehow tracking Grant because they needed help to escape.

They needed all of the help.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Well, that's all for this one, everyone! I hope that you enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought. It would really help me out.

**Grant and Skye arrive at the Hydra base and meet with Whitehall. They learn of Von Strucker's disappearance and how all signs point to The Winter Soldier.

**Skye finally meets her father, and it goes about as you'd expect. Her father's clearly crazy, which automatically makes her much less receptive to anything he'd have to say, which is why she rebels against receiving her gift.

**Grant gets played by Whitehall. I mean, Whitehall is at least a century old so he has tricks up his sleeve. In Canon, they made him so harmless, a joke of a villain. The only thing that he had going for him was that he murdered Skye's mother but then that was rescinded when she appears later on. Plus, walking into a Hydra base and just expecting everything to go fine was the wrong strategy. Grant's arrogant and his arrogance bit him in the ass. Being a Super-Soldier certainly fueled that arrogance, but then Whitehall delivers the Super-Soldier repressor shot, so Grant's back to being human. For now.

**The Soldier/James meets Natasha with the Maximoff twins for help. Yes, The Soldier's file detailed the existence of his children, so he wants to meet them, 'rescue' them from Hydra so they might be able to have a chance. It's also a selfish reason to help himself, a way he can potentially 'undo' some of what was done to him.

**Skye, Skye's father, and Grant are all captured by Whitehall because they were never going to get out of there after Grant was given that repressor shot.

I think that's everything. If you have questions, feel free to ask. It would really help me out if you guys left a review; it lets me know what's working and what isn't. I appreciate it!

Stay Safe
ButtonPusher