Upstate New York, USA

Late Spring 2015

It had been just over a week, nearly two, but Nadine was hopeful that things were beginning to improve. For most of that time, Nina had barely spoken more than a few words to Nadine. And, hard as it had been, Nadine had let her be. At first, Nina seemed to be actively avoiding her altogether. But as each day passed? She wasn't tensing quite so much when she spoke and yesterday, she hadn't pulled away when Nadine reached out for her. Small changes as they were, it was still a marked improvement, one that relieved Nadine to no end. It appeared to indicate that Nina was making some headway in processing not only what had happened to her and why, but everything else that Nadine had told her when she'd finally been released from the Avenger's infirmary. And dare Nadine even hope, but she might possibly even be beginning to understand.

At least, so Nadine hoped. Natasha seemed to think so, judging by the satisfied, assessing looks the redheaded Avenger kept shooting mother and daughter, at least. Not to mention the confident comments Natasha always had ready when Nadine gave into confessing her worry that Nina must hate her.

"How could she not? Everything she went through? Everything I kept from her?"

"She just needs time, Nadine," Natasha had soothed on one such occasion. "She's bright and she's compassionate. She'll come around. She has a lot to process." Nadine had lifted her head from her hands then, shooting her sister a baleful look—another rarity that had come out in her moment of candour.

"And when she realizes she can't forgive me? I ripped her life apart, Natalia," she'd snapped back, the bite tempered by dejections. Natasha had merely raised a skeptical brow before settling next to Nadine, looping an arm around her.

"You? You're not the only one to blame, Nadya," she'd countered gently, though her own tone had developed a sharp edge that caught Nadine's attention. "And what you did? You did it to protect her. She will forgive you, Nadine." Mercifully, Natasha hadn't tried to deflect the blame nor diminish Nadine's role in what happened. They both knew it would be a hollow gesture. She was just as much responsible—to blame, really—as Ultron or Strucker for Nina's pain. More so, even, since Nina was her daughter and they were her secrets.

"You know Nina better than anyone," Natasha had said with an air of certainty, "can you honestly see her holding this against you?" She'd had a point that even Nadine in her moment of despondency couldn't entirely dispute. She might have inherited Nadine's stubbornness, but Nina had never been good at holding grudges. And the reminder had done wonders to dispel Nadine's melancholy.

At least, until the next time her insecurity had reared its head. And the next. And Natasha had stood firm in her own resolve, never failing to do her best to lift Nadine's spirits when they fell low.

Similarly, not unlike Natasha, Nadine kept catching the Maximoff girl wearing relieved looks of her own when she thought neither Nina nor Nadine were paying attention to her.

That the Twins had been worried about Nina was unmistakable. They'd rarely left her side since Nina's talk with Nadine. Or rather, she rarely left theirs. The brother hadn't yet been released from the infirmary, but he was sure to be cleared by the doctors at the facility any day now that Dr. Cho had declared his injuries were effectively healed. He was just waiting on a final few checks and he would be declared good as new. As it was, both he and Nina had been given a clean bill of health far quicker than any average person would've with comparative injuries.

As Nadine knew from years of witnessing scraped knees, abrasions and the odd other injury that inevitably came with growing up as well as participation in her different martial arts clubs, one of the few hints of Nadine's Enhancement that Nina had inherited was her ability to heal faster than was strictly normal. Not by much, mind—Nadine still healed far faster than Nina was capable—but enough that by the time Dr. Cho had arrived at the Compound, still a little worse for wear herself, there was little the doctor's Cradle technology was needed for where Nina was concerned. Pietro, on the other hand, had been subjected to multiple rounds with the technology to heal his more intensive injuries; though his particular Enhancement resulted in an accelerated healing factor as well, the damage the Quinjet's bullets had done had been extensive, slowing his healing factor down from sheer overload.

It meant that the boy had been confined to his room in the infirmary for longer than the near week Nina had been kept to recover from the graze over her ribs and her exhaustion. It also meant that his sister and Nina could almost always be found there with him.

They were proving to be the support Nina needed while she was avoiding Nadine, either distracting or comforting her as she needed. And it was helping. Whether she wanted to or not, Nadine couldn't deny that. The Twin's company put Nina at ease. She was smiling again with them.

It was something Nadine felt simultaneously grateful for and resentful of. And wasn't that a pleasant feeling. But grateful or not, convinced or not that the Twins did genuinely have Nina's wellbeing at heart, Nadine still couldn't help but worry. But then, she'd already spent the last eighteen years worrying about her daughter; hazard of being a parent...and a highly trained super assassin who happened to have a daughter. So there was no stopping now, especially not considering everything that had happened.

It meant she kept a close but discreet eye on the three of them, shadowing the infirmary or wherever else Nina happened to end up within the facility. She was always careful to keep her distance, of course, knowing full well that Nina would not appreciate her hovering; she never had, especially once she'd reached her teens. They rarely knew she was there if she could help it. It was one bonus of being a highly-trained spy, that was for sure. But she'd come too close to losing Nina too many times over the last few weeks to deny the impulse. Because, though Nina was safe now, the lingering anxiety and fear from those few harrowing days still gnawed at Nadine. It meant her protective instincts were still on overdrive, making her almost irrationally nervous when she didn't know where her daughter was.

But she was working on it. The more Nina seemed to recover, both physically and emotionally, the easier Nadine was finding it to push past the constant need to make sure Nina was safe.

It also helped to realize that she wasn't the only one looking out for Nina...besides the Twins, of course.

For all that she could be brutally blunt and forthcoming, Natasha was undoubtedly a master at the subtle too; she just generally preferred to be upfront. But with Nina she put all her skills to good use, building on the bond they'd formed in the bowels of Ultron's base to provide Nina with another shoulder she could lean on despite Nina's current aversion to anything to do with her mom. At first it had been the odd, innocuous visit to the infirmary to 'check in' on Nadine, Nina and the Twins. Then, once Nina had been released and had taken to spending some time alone in the common area of the Avengers-only wing of the Compound, it was just a matter of 'happening' to be in the same room, Natasha working on something or other or even simply passing some of her own leisure time. And she never made it seem like she was checking up on Nina or keeping an eye on her, no matter that Natasha was undoubtedly doing that too—Nadine suspected that Natasha was almost as worried about Nina as she was.

But it wasn't the priority, and Nina seemed to be aware of that on some level. Furthermore, whether Nina realized it or not, as Natasha had confessed to Nadine, she was making herself available to her adopted niece. And, slowly but surely, Nina was beginning to respond to that. Soon enough she was starting to lean on the older woman, taking up the silent offer of company even if she wasn't up to talking to much just yet; the simple offer of comfort that came from the company of someone who genuinely cared. More than once, especially in the last day or so, Nadine had come across Nina sitting quietly not far away from Natasha, simply seeming to take comfort in her new Aunt's presence. And it seemed to be enough. Not for the first time, Nadine was more grateful than she could express for her sister.

And then there was Rogers.

Nadine still wasn't quite sure what to think about him.

After the conversation on the Helicarrier, once they'd made it to the Compound, Natasha had told Nadine everything she knew about Barnes and his relationship to Steve. Everything. By the time she had fallen silent, Nadine had heard everything Natasha knew about his close friendship with the Captain from their childhood onward, all the way through to his deeds during the War and what little they knew from his time as the Winter Soldier; on that last front, there wasn't much that Nadine didn't know already, but she appreciated it regardless.

It meant that she now had a far better understanding of why the Captain had reacted the way he had, and why he was still fighting the remnants of that reaction around her.

And she almost, almost, felt like she knew Barnes. Or at least, the man he had been.

She really hadn't been all that far off when she'd compared what she believed her reaction would have been had their situations been reversed, had she and Rogers been in each other's shoes and Natasha and Barnes reversed. Barnes was the brother that Steve had never had. They were best friends and more; Barnes had been all Steve had once his mother had passed away. Losing him in 1945 had hit the Captain hard and finding out what had been done to Barnes in the years since had devastated Steve. It didn't help that he also felt responsible for what had happened to his oldest friend, deserved or not. That was certainly a feeling Nadine could relate too; she'd felt something similar leaving Natasha behind in the Red Room. It meant she could now understand why he couldn't seem to stand being around her for too long.

So when she'd begun to notice the Captain similarly keeping a watchful eye on Nina? It hadn't taken long to figure out why. Nina was Barnes' daughter, and Barnes was Rogers' oldest friend. Given what she knew about the Captain and his noble streak? His loyalty to those he cared about? It was only natural that he'd take an interest in Nina's wellbeing. Especially since Barnes couldn't. He was careful to keep his distance where Natasha was reaching out—probably because Nadine had always been close by, she imagined—but to Nadine his motivations, his feelings even, were as clear as though he wore them like a jacket. He hadn't been trained to hide his emotions the way Nadine and Natasha had, after all.

But since he'd begun keeping an eye on Nina himself, it also meant that today wasn't the first time Nadine had found herself in his company. Mercifully, he'd finally stopped trying to apologise, something Nadine was grateful for. For all that he had the best intentions, it never failed to make her feel worse. It was something he always managed to pick up on no matter her attempts to keep it to herself, making him feel guilty, which ultimately made her feel worse still. She appreciated the thought—really, she did—but it didn't feel...right. Deserved. She hadn't done anything to earn it. Not so far as she was concerned, at least. Besides, he was always far too tense when he tried. And because of that, she couldn't fight the pervasive little feeling that he was only doing it because he felt he had to, not because he felt it truly owed. She just could not understand how he could mean it, given what she now knew about him and Barnes. She didn't think she could if it were her.

"I didn't expect her to look so much like him," he said unexpectedly, pulling Nadine from her thoughts. The comment was spoken so quietly Nadine nearly hadn't heard it. They'd already been standing in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes, neither quite sure how to break their unspoken impasse. The last few times they had met like this, it hadn't broken until one of them had retreated.

Instinctively she tensed, but she quickly forced the feeling away. Not before he noticed, though. A faint expression of what looked almost like apology crossed his face before his attention returned to Nina. She immediately dismissed it, deeming it more likely that she'd misinterpreted the look. "She even smiles like him," he added softy. He sounded almost...awed. Wistful. Nostalgic.

Nadine could only nod tightly. She wouldn't know; she'd never seen Barnes smile. He seemed to pick up on that too, sighing softly.

"Sorry. I know you— It's just...strange...having a piece of him right here," he explained. She nearly started, only just barely keeping the reaction to herself. He was actually apologizing? To her? Over this? Over making her feel bad about more evidence that she didn't actually know Barnes? Why did he keep doing that? It made no sense. It was jarring. If anything, she should be apologizing to him for the reminder that she had hurt his friend. But words stuck in her throat, so she forced the feeling aside, though she wasn't quite able to help the way she knew her face had already closed off. Force of habit. She had to say something, though, so she let out the first thing that came to her lips, surprising even herself with what came out. It was so...honest.

"That I can imagine," she said, her voice nearly as soft as his had been. "It was hard, sometimes, looking at her and seeing him...a reminder of him, always when I least expected it." A faint frown rose to his face, the expression one of mingled sympathy and lingering resentment. Resentment that was not aimed at her. That couldn't be right. Nadine's breath caught at the realization. She couldn't have read that right. If she had, it was even more startling and unsettling than the apology. How could he not still resent her? What she'd done? Malicious or not, it was unforgivable. At the very least, she'd thought that was something he had agreed with her on. Was it possible that he...didn't? Natasha insisted she hadn't been wholly in the wrong back then, not that Nadine believed her. But could Steve really, genuinely think the same? Nadine couldn't quite wrap her head around the idea. But she also knew her long ingrained instincts weren't wrong.

But he didn't say anything else. Not for a few moments, at least. Then he inhaled deeply, seeming to come to some sort of conclusion.

"She's a good kid, Ryker." He smiled then, glancing to her for a moment before looking back to Nina. "She helped me out in Sokovia, you know." Nadine couldn't help it, turning a questioning look to the Captain. His smile deepened, and he glanced to her again out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, I was pinned down by a couple sentries and she helped me out of a tight spot. She's got a mean swing with a length of rebar. And then," he hesitated, looking to her almost warily before the fond grin was back, "next thing I know, she's got a sentry on her six that had been going after civilians and she directed it right into my shield." Nadine could barely keep her stunned reaction to herself, staring at Steve, trying to wrap her head around what she was hearing. About the proud, even affectionate way he'd just filled in a few curious, nearly forgotten blanks for Nadine about that day. Before she could help it, pride was swelling in her chest, a smile tugging at her lips as she glanced to Nina herself.

She looked back to Steve, surveying him, the way he was looking at Nina, the soft smile on his face and the warmth in his eyes. Her breath hitched as realization struck her; he'd grown fond of Nina already for Nina, not just because of Barnes. He was quickly coming to care for Nina in the same, instinctual way Natasha was. Really, he already had. Just like Natasha he had come to see Nina as family in every way that mattered. And he'd barely even spoken to her! Noticing her scrutiny, Steve levelly met her eye, his grin fading ever so slightly as contemplation took over.

"She might not have the backgrounds the rest of us do, she might not be trained for this life but...she didn't hesitate to help where she could," he said. "She's smart, Ryker. And she's strong; she'll get through this.

"You both will."

Nadine started at his assertion, unable to even try keeping it to herself this time, unsure she'd heard what she had. Looking up to him, his sincere look was confirmation enough; the comment had been another attempt at a peace offering...of a sort. It wasn't quite the same as the apology she hadn't let him offer back on the Helicarrier or on any occasion he'd tried since. It was something different. Rather, it was an offer to try and look past what had happened on the Quinjet instead. She fought not to narrow her eyes warily at him as she studied him. It still seemed like it should feel too good to be true, like it was more than she deserved...but it also didn't. Did she dare accept it? A quivering feeling deep in her gut urged her too and, despite her head's certainty that there had to be an ulterior motive even if she couldn't see it, she wanted to take it. She was growing tired of being so suspicious all the time, especially of people she knew rationally were on her side. Of people she knew her sister trusted.

How better to start breaking herself of that habit than by accepting what Steve offered? After all, Natasha did trust him with her life. And he obviously cared about Nina. Shouldn't that mean Nadine could at least try?

"I know she will," she finally responded softly, unable to keep her pride and love for her daughter from her voice as she looked back to Nina and the Twins. "And I hope we both will." They lapsed into a tense silence again, at least, until Nadine couldn't hold her suspicions in any longer.

"You've been talking to Natasha about me, haven't you," she finally asked. Once, it would have been an accusation, outrage and hurt flooding through her that her sister would share her secrets like that. But she only felt an odd sense of relief when she'd seen the contrite confirmation on his face. She couldn't quite understand—or believe—why she didn't resent the idea that Natasha had gone behind her back to tell Steve more about her past. Maybe because he already knew the worst...what harm could it do to tell him the rest?

Unnecessarily he nodded; he didn't need to say anything else. The minute change in his expression as she'd asked had been enough. And she found she had a good idea what her sister had likely shared, especially considering all that Natasha had told her about Steve and Barnes. It only seemed fair, she supposed, that Natasha had told him more about her given all that she'd shared with Nadine about him.

He seemed to realize as much too. Again silence fell between them until he spoke again, though it was far more comfortable than it had been before. But what he said next threw her completely off guard.

"Are you going to stay?" Nadine's gaze snapped to his in shock, her features blatantly astonished. Until that moment, she hadn't even allowed herself to truly consider the possibility. Oh, she'd thought about it, but she hadn't felt that it was a real option. It was why she'd spent every moment not watching Nina starting to make plans about what to do next and where to go. She hadn't thought anyone would actually want her to stay besides Natasha. He merely considered her reaction, neither dropping her gaze nor giving her any indication of his stance on the idea. It made her feel somewhat uneasy...but also unaccountably optimistic; did it mean he...wouldn't object if she were to stay? She couldn't figure it out. She was too stunned.

"I don't know," she finally admitted, too unsettled to deflect. "I'm the kind of person who works better alone, Rogers." What she didn't admit was that she didn't want to be alone anymore. It was beside the point. "Working with other people isn't exactly part of my M.O.." His features turned thoughtful, his attention solely on her. He didn't contradict her. But neither did he agree. She didn't know how to react. But the weight of his considering gaze soon had her sighing, knowing that he was waiting for her to elaborate despite not saying a word. She looked back to Nina where she sat on Pietro's bed with the Twins, the three of them watching television. The three of them smiling at whatever show was playing. But she didn't quite see them as she answered.

"Someone like me?" she murmured, her tone once again carefully composed. "You spoke to Natasha, so you know; I don't belong anywhere. And I've known it since I was a child. I was trained, conditioned to work better alone. I'm not cut out to be a team player. I accepted it a long time ago."

"Have you?" She glanced up to the Captain at the question. His ocean-hued gaze was unreadable, though his brow was creased faintly in consideration. She suddenly felt unaccountably vulnerable under that gaze, and had to look away, instinctively ensuring her mask was still in place.

"I never really had much of a choice in that, I'm afraid," she said. He inhaled deeply, his features still contemplative as his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"I don't think any of us did," he agreed. She forcibly ignored the tremor of emotion that his words sparked as she looked up at him. It was a small, tentative feeling like, in that moment, she'd actually found someone other than her sister who understood. But then she mentally shook the fanciful notion aside.

"At least you have your Team," she said softly, her smile unwittingly sad. "You're not that alone." He smiled back just as sedately, a shadow seeming to pass over his features.

"Far more alone than you might think, Ryker." Her stomach clenched then, her eyes beginning to prickle traitorously at the blunt understanding in his voice. It was almost a reprimand. He stepped back then, pausing only long enough to glance back at her a final time, his expression earnest yet nearly weary.

"And here? Neither of us is alone in that."

With that, he left her alone with her thoughts.

A/N: Thanks for Reading!

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