Upstate New York, USA

Spring 2015

Nina was so far beyond reeling she didn't have the words to even come close to describing the feelings cascading through her. On the outside, she supposed she looked like she was holding it together well enough, but inside she was on the verge of falling apart.

She had wanted answers...well, she'd certainly gotten them.

Her father's name was James.

And yet there were still things her mother had held back...Nina's stomach churned at the thought of what they might be. Considering what she had been told? It had to be because it was somehow worse. And for all that Nadine had definitely been holding back, she'd still told Nina a great deal.

Biting back a shuddering sob as it tried to make its way out of her quickly clenching chest, Nina rushed blindly through the Compound, searching for the only other source of comfort she could think of in that moment. As soon as she found it, tears of mingled relief and heartache sprang to her eyes.

The Twins.

Before they'd even had a chance to fully register that she'd appeared in the door of Pietro's room in the infirmary, she was crossing the room to crawl onto the bed next to them, curling against Pietro's side as the first wracking sobs burst out. She was so overwhelmed that she barely noticed the Sokovian boy's arms wrapping tightly around her or that Wanda had quickly circled the hospital bed to climb up behind Nina, wrapping her own arms around the shaking blonde to shelter her between the siblings.

It was a long time before her sobs quieted and she was able to think somewhat clearly again.

Not that she wanted to think just then. There was too much racing through her head, too many bewildering and painful thoughts and feelings crowding and pressing against her brain.

Oh God, what was she even supposed to think?! To feel?! How was she supposed to process any of this? Perhaps just part of it, one element? That she could've handled. But all of it? It had taken every ounce of self-control she had to keep the dense, heavy feeling deep in her chest contained, keeping her newfound powers tightly leashed lest she lose control completely; she didn't know what would happen if she let them out. That on top of everything her mom had said? What she'd been told was already nightmare enough without risking hurting her mom or anyone else because she couldn't contain her new powers. She couldn't bear that too.

But how could Nadine have kept this from her?!

Yet...a small logical part of her understood why her mom had kept it from her.

And another part of her suddenly wished she didn't know any of it.

Not the truth behind why she'd been taken—because experiments done on her mom gave Nina Enhanced traits, however diluted...

Not how Strucker had known about her...

Not how she'd been used as leverage by HYDRA against her mom for years, Nadine willing to do anything rather than risk Nina's safety...not that it had ultimately made any difference...

Not what her mom really was...

She was The Ghost; a master assassin, infamous and shrouded in mystery, capable of completing missions others wouldn't—couldn't—take to hunt and kill other assassins. Nina's breath hitched as that thought circled, echoing through her brain.

Her mom was a spy—no, that wasn't quite right. Nadine had been trained to be a master spy—just like Black Widow—and to be a master assassin, and it was as an assassin that she made her true living. Her mom killed people—other killers, part of her tried to rationalize...and the thought actually helped...until Nina started to feel ill that it did, that she was letting that sooth her horror at the revelation. What was wrong with her?

Was something wrong with her?

When Ultron had told her that Strucker was dead, regardless of her anxiety in the robot's presence and her own muddled, disoriented state, an odd, relieved sense of satisfaction had flooded through her. She'd been glad...thankful, even...to hear that he was dead. She'd then promptly felt sick, but she was fairly certain that had more to do with her body's reaction to the German Baron's experiments than any evidence of a conscience.

When her mom had revealed that the woman who had all but given her to Strucker was dead? When her mom had hinted that she herself had been the one to do it? A shudder of relief had fluttered through her gut then too.

And when Wanda had whispered to her and Pietro that she had torn Ultron Prime's central processor right out of his chest when she'd believed he'd killed her brother, her voice laced with grim vindication? Nina had only felt a sense of relief then too.

Did that make her a horrible person? To be happy—no, not quite happy; satisfied?—that the people responsible for hurting her and the people she cared about had been punished? Permanently? She honestly didn't know...and she wasn't sure she ever wanted to find out. She supposed it was only natural, though. She nestled closer to Pietro, something in her chest easing slightly as he simply held her close without a word.

She now found she understood far better how the Twins could feel the way they had toward Stark. A small, dark part of her suddenly wanted to make someone pay for what had been done to her...and for what had been done to her mom.

It sounded awful. She just knew there was a lot Nadine had held back about her childhood and the place where she'd grown up; it had lingered like a dull, wounded shadow behind her eyes. Her mom had been trying to hide it, but Nina had seen through her attempt anyway. She'd just known her mom had been trying to spare her from knowing just how awful that place—the Red House? Red Room?—had been, just as she'd known from the hollow, haunted undertone to her mom's almost clinical description of that part of her life. And in suspecting that her mom had held back the worst of it? It only made her sense about just how cruel that place had been deepen even more. Somehow, it seemed even worse for not knowing. Despite the overwhelming hurt and anger and resentment that had been building in her chest the longer her mom had spoken, the horror and heartache on her mom's behalf had quickly grown to nearly overshadow it.

But it was what Nadine had said about Nina's father that was arguably affecting her most. She'd wanted to know about him her whole life, after all. And it was far easier to let one of her mom's revelations drown out the others...at least for a little while. The heavy, dense sensation deep in her chest started to build again as her emotions did. She choked back a sob as her tears tried to start again.

She'd always had this idea in her head that whatever had happened between her parents had been a tragic, romantic story—hence why her mom didn't like to talk about it; because it hurt too much. Perhaps it had been a short-lived, forbidden love affair? Or, less pleasantly—her imagination had supplied as she'd grown—that he'd been forced to leave them...or had even died. As beautifully tragic as the idea of him having died was, she had never been able to quite accept that. She'd never been able to fight the feeling—or was it simply a deep-seated longing wish—that he'd still been out there, somewhere.

Long-held wishes aside, though, she knew that it was far more likely that the truth was less pleasant than she had hoped; well, she hadn't been wrong, there... As she'd grown as her imagination had begun to reluctantly consider more rational possibilities, she'd known that it was just as likely that her father had abandoned her and her mom, or even that her mom had left him, taking Nina with her. Or that the truth was even worse...

Another part of her had even long begun to wonder if he'd never known she existed, if that was why he'd never reappeared in their lives and her mom never mentioned him. It was a thought that never failed to make her heart ache, but realistically she'd had to admit it was possible—more than possible, apparently. She'd even found herself wondering on occasion if her mom had even known who her father was...

Well, she apparently hadn't known his name, so Nina had been partially right on that score...

Since she was a child she had hoped, despite knowing the odds were stacked against it, that one day her father would come back into their lives, having never wanted to leave. Having always wanted her. But it was a childhood fantasy and she'd known it for nearly as long as she'd had it; she'd been sheltered growing up, definitely, but she hadn't been quite that naïve. But it hadn't stopped her from letting it linger like a comforting beacon in the back of her mind.

Now? Naïve as she knew she was about some things, Nina was not stupid; she had read between the lines easily enough. Not only had Nadine said as much, but Nina had seen as plain as day that there had been nothing truly romantic between her parents. It was a revelation that hurt far more than she'd anticipated. Though she knew realistically that it didn't always happen, Nina had chosen to believe that, despite whatever had happened that kept her father from her life, her parents had at least cared about each other, hopefully even loved one another. That she'd been the product of something...special.

But her mom's explanation had made that particular hope seem painfully unlikely.

Her stomach twisted painfully enough that a whimper escaped her as a horrifying thought struck her; had her mom been...she couldn't even bear to finish the thought, the possibility suddenly making her feel sick as her mind turned the possibility over and over, examining it from every angle even as she tried desperately to push the thought away. After everything she and her mom had been through, she didn't think she could bear to add that to the list. She couldn't bear to think that her mom might have been hurt that way on top of everything else. But the thought faltered then, prompting a shudder of relief to ripple through her.

There had been no hate in her mom's voice, no revulsion or anger in it when Nina's father had entered the narrative of her life. Something hard and sharp that Nina hadn't realized had been forming in her gut eased as that realization raced through her mind. Surely if that had been what happened... Considering who her mom apparently was? What she was capable of?

Nadine had said she needed to find Nina's father, to tell him about her. That he didn't know about her because it had been too dangerous for him, for anyone, to know, even Nina. That Nadine owed him. Did women say that when they'd been attacked? Nina knew that such assaults wreaked psychological havoc on their victims, so she supposed it was possible. But considering the almost emotionless way her mom had spoken about her old groupmate—the one who had sold them out to Strucker—just as she had when she'd first mentioned her father? It was possible that Nadine's intentions for once she found James—James—were of a vengeful nature... Maybe she had read her mom wrong...that was also very possible.

But part of Nina rejected that thought almost violently. When speaking about her old groupmate, something had shifted in her mom; her voice had gone soft and cold, her face impassive and ruthless as her eyes had glinted fiercely. In that moment, she had looked and sounded undeniably lethal.

But she had very much not sounded like that when she'd been talking about Nina's father. Not in the slightest. There hadn't even been a fleeting glimpse of it. Especially not after Nina had asked to hear more about him.

She'd sounded...sad.

Nina might not know her mom as well as she'd always thought she had, but Nina knew her well enough to know that. She hadn't been holding back, hiding her feelings the way Nina knew she sometimes had—remnants from her intense spy training, apparently. Unless she was faking it....would she know how to do that? Surely. Was it wishful thinking to believe Nadine had been telling the truth? How could she ever hope to know for sure if her mom was being honest knowing what she knew now? Nina's gut twisted again. No, she thought, forcing the thoughts aside. She couldn't let herself think like that!

It was her mom...but her mom had also kept so much from her...all to protect her! Her head was beginning to spin. Her fingers tore into her hair, clutching at her skull as thought it could still her thoughts. Nearly panting with the effort, she managed to somewhat force them back, holding it all at bay enough to let one thought through at a time.

No. Nina had to believe her mom had been honest with her. Nina had to believe she knew Nadine, or what tenuous hold she had over herself—her sanity, it felt like—would unravel.

So she was fairly sure she knew Nadine well enough to just know that she had cared for her father in some small way, secrets or not. She hadn't been in love with him, as far as Nina could tell, but she had still cared on some level. There had been nothing but sorrow and remorse and an underlying plea for Nina to understand when she'd spoken of the man, of her need to find him...of how she owed him for both their lives.

How he'd spared her mom's life, and thus Nina's too.

She just couldn't see her mom caring that way for someone who'd attacked her.

No, while she knew now that her parents hadn't been in love, how there'd been no romantic tale of how Nina had come to be, she also knew deep in her gut that she wasn't the product of an attack. 'An Escape,' her mom had called it. Nina shuddered. The feeling she'd gotten that the place where her mother had been raised was far, far worse than Nadine had tried to let on, inadvertently or otherwise, washed over her again.

Oh God...why did her life have to be so complicated!

When she'd asked about her father growing up, she'd just wanted to know his name...that, and that he'd wanted her...and now she knew unequivocally that that wasn't true. How could it be when he had no idea she even existed? A wrenching sob threatened to tear through her chest again.

"Nina?" Wanda's soft, concerned voice finally managed to make its way through her chaotic thoughts. It was only then that she realized the brunette had been softly trying to get her attention for several moments. Lifting her head from where it had been buried against Pietro's chest, she met the other girl's worried blue-green eyes. "Are you okay?" Automatically an assurance that she was rose to her lips, but Nina couldn't say it, the words sticking painfully in her throat. Her eyes felt gritty and her head was beginning to feel like it was stuffed with wool from crying alone...not to mention the horribly disarrayed thoughts hurtling through her brain. And her whole body was beginning to ache, the emotional pain settled deep in her gut manifesting physically just as she was beginning to feel the strain on her body from struggling to hold her newfound powers in check, the dense haze beginning to flare and ebb. Slowly she shook her head, her eyes beginning to water again.

"No," she finally said miserably, her throat tight as she laid her head wearily back against Pietro's chest, her voice wavering wretchedly. "No, I'm not." Beneath her cheek she felt Pietro tense, but as he felt Wanda glance to him from behind her he was reluctantly relaxing again. Wanda's hand chafed reassuringly along her arm, the other girl making a soft, soothing humming sound as she leaned her own head against Nina's shoulder. Unconsciously Nina's arms tightened around Pietro as she nestled further against him.

"You will be, though," the older girl finally said, reaching out to clasp her brother's hand, her voice turning faintly haunted, like she wanted to believe it but couldn't quite manage it. "We all will be. It just might not be for a while." Neither Pietro nor Nina could say a word at the mournful, hopeful assertion. But it was finally Pietro who spoke, his fingers tracing idly over Nina's hand. Impulsively Nina threaded her fingers with his. The ache in her chest from everything her mom had told her eased just a little bit more.

"What did your mom want?" he asked tentatively, his voice still faintly hoarse from discomfort and exhaustion thanks to his injuries. She fought the urge to further burrow into his side. For one thing, she could feel him tensing as she pressed against his still healing wounds, swallowing his reaction because he knew she needed the comfort. She consciously loosened her grip, suddenly realizing he had to be in pain thanks to her hold on him. The mostly healed bullet graze on her own side was burning fiercely, so she could only imagine how he was feeling given that his injuries had been so much worse than hers. He couldn't quite hold in a faint sigh of relief, squeezing her fingers gently in silent thanks.

Behind her she felt Wanda shift, resting her chin on Nina's shoulder so she could peer down at the younger girl. It was then that Nina realized she hadn't answered Pietro's question.

What could she say? What did she want to say? She faltered for a long moment before inadvertently letting out a pained sigh.

"She told me the truth," she admitted softly. What else could she say? Sure, in the coming days she was probably going to end up telling them most, if not all of it, but right now she couldn't muster the strength. Besides, Wanda had probably already picked up a fair bit of it thanks to the way Nina's thoughts had been dwelling on her mom's tale; given how little control the brunette seemed to have over her powers at the moment? Even though she seemed almost perplexed in Nina's presence at times now? The Sokovian girl had already admitted there were times Nina's mind seemed like a blank space, now, especially when she was having a hard time subduing her new abilities.

But Nina couldn't say it would surprise her if Wanda had already picked up a fair bit from Nadine herself in the short time she'd known Nina's mom. The idea that Wanda might have known even some of what Nina had only just learned hurt, but considering how Wanda seemed to consider most of what she gleaned from other people's minds akin to secrets told in confidence? She could understand the older girl not saying anything...if she even knew anything. It still stung a bit to think about, though. She felt Wanda tense slightly behind her. Nina's eyes squeezed shut, suspecting Wanda had picked up on what she'd just been thinking. Guilt washed through her on top of everything else. Gently, Wanda squeezed her arm, silently letting her know that it was okay. It didn't really help. Pietro shifted minutely beneath her again, craning his neck slightly to glance down at her face.

"And that's a bad thing?" She felt Wanda glance to her brother, nearly tempted to grin at the exasperated look she imagined the other girl was giving him. "What?" Yup.

He shifted again, and Nina swore she felt him brush a soft kiss against her hair. Something soft and warm fluttered deep in her chest despite the crushing heartache determined to make itself at home. Wanda settled her cheek back against Nina's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Nina," she finally said softly, her sorrow and sympathy clear in her voice. Nina couldn't say anything in return, the hurt and the resentment and the bewilderment rushing through her again at the sentiment even as her tears began spilling over onto her cheeks again, running down to soak Pietro's hospital gown even more than she had already.

The Twins just held her, letting her grieve.

A/N: Thanks for Reading!

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