NATASHA LOUNGED IN HER CHAIR AS SHE WAITED FOR FURY TO GET BACK TO HIS OFFICE. It wasn't uncommon for him to call her in, giving her an assignment solo or debriefing her separate from the others if there was something far too important to be entrusted to the whole team. For the latter, she was normally debriefed afterwards, Fury waiting for everyone to be on the same page before giving her the additional assignment. It had been some time since she'd gone solo, and she couldn't help but wonder what she would be given that she couldn't do with Clint.

The door opened, interrupting her thoughts, Fury stepping into the room with a cup of coffee in his hand and a tablet tucked under his arm. She raised her eyebrow, tracking his movements as he sat down across from her behind his desk, setting his things down before leaning back in his seat.

She quirked her lips, eyes darting to the coffee then back to the man. "None for me?"

He rolled his good eye, reaching out to pull the cup further out of her reach, pushing the tablet forward instead, motioning to it as he pulled his arm back. "You can get your own once we're done."

She stood up, her chair too far from the desk for her to lean, picking up the tablet and sitting back down, opening it up to the file that was waiting for her, images of a person strikingly similar to Clint filling the screen, personal information listed beside them.

Natasha very well knew that she hadn't outwardly reacted, but Fury snorted anyways, leaning forward to fold his hands atop his desk. She raised her eyes to look at him, head still bent to the tablet, and he shrugged.

"Matvey Stepanov," she read, intrigued by the name, starting to scan through the list of information.

"He goes by Terran Sweets," Fury explained, calling her attention, "He's worked for us a bit in the past. We paired him with Clint at one point, helps that they could pass as twins, though we can't figure why."

"Does it matter?" she asked, glancing back down at the list, pausing when she read the note beside his birthday, "Is he a mutant, why is there a note about his decelerated aging process?"

Fury shook his head. "You can keep reading or I can just explain it. I vote for you to read it first, 'cause I don't need you yelling at me while I'm explaining things."

She frowned. "I don't yell at you. I never yell."

He raised his hands, moving to lean back in his chair. "You're gonna yell about this one. Barton thinks so anyways."

"You told Barton before me?" she asked, looking back down at the tablet, "If he's worked with him before, why am I here, you could just send him."

"Just read the damn file," Fury cried, "We haven't even gotten to the real target, I thought you wanted to get your coffee."

Natasha didn't respond, instead continuing to read over the file, forcing herself not to pause despite the red flags and alarms going off in her mind as she read the notes about his skillset and disposition, then moving on to his background where, after reading multiple, drastically differing variations of his childhood, she reached the part of the file that, according to Fury, would get her to yell.

She didn't yell. But whatever she had done, it was enough to let Fury know that she was as unnerved as she felt. The fact that her perfected mask of indifference had shifted at all was enough indication that this wasn't at all what she expected; she'd never even considered the concept.

"There was only one Wolf Spider trainee and he failed," Natasha said, knowing full well that nothing she said was new information, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"There was only trainee that completed the entire program, though, yes, he was a failure. But there were more trainees than just him. It was just none of them survived to start training. None except him," he corrected.

Natasha opened her mouth to respond, but Fury continued, cutting her off, "They thought he'd died. He didn't complete the program and, considering they were already having trouble with the program already, they figured they could keep the murder under wraps and, once they succeeded, they could explain away the murder as a necessary process."

"Constantin tried to kill him?" she asked, holding Fury's gaze when he raised an eyebrow at her using the man's name.

"He didn't just try, Sweets was close to death when he was found. Lucky for him, Xavier had sent one of his little teams on a trip, and they brought him back just in time for someone to fix him up," he continued, motioning for her to swipe through the file.

When she did, she found herself faced with various medical reports and images, the man's face practically unrecognizable, even with all the blood cleaned from his face, and she had to wonder if there were any additional actions taken to return him to the state that could be found in the photos she first saw. 

The Wolf Spider Program had shut down years before she had been brought in, though she had heard about what happened, Niko Constantin being a cautionary tale, reminding the girls what would happen if they couldn't control themselves and do as they were told. She didn't know how long before her time the program had ended, and, due to the nature of the biological enhancements, estimating off the way Terran Sweets looked in the medical photos wasn't an option. All she could say was that, when he was rescued, he looked younger than how she expected him to look now.

"You said he wasn't the target," she said, focusing her attention back to Fury, "And you've already worked with him before."

"Yes, but you haven't," he explained, and she didn't react outwardly; though, if she had, she would have raised an eyebrow, "You're going to be working with him on this. And once we're done here we're going to bring this up to him, he'll need some time to think about it before he comes with us."

"How do you know he'll say yes?" she asked, "If he's worked with you before, but you still have to let him think it over, it doesn't seem like he'd be willing to help out again."

"He will. He doesn't have much of a choice," Fury said, and his nonchalance raised alarm bells in Natasha's mind, filing away this piece of information for later, "So. Can we continue?"

Natasha didn't respond, instead just turning her gaze back to the tablet, opening the other file that was set up on the device, Niko Constantin's face filling the screen, and it was clear that these weren't taken recently, but she committed them to memory nevertheless, scanning over the information given, as well as the various notes, nothing overly surprising.

When she swiped to the next page, she was met with grainier images that were more recent, though it was hard to completely confirm whether the man in the image was truly Constantin, especially since the man had obscured his face with sunglasses, a tool that she had used from time to time.

"From what we've gathered, Constantin had been sent to an unregistered gulag that still operated after the mass closing, and he'd been there since he failed the program. We don't know what he did in there all those years, but it's safe to say he made some friends, because there were a good number of inmates that weren't accounted for when we did a sweep of the place," Fury explained, motioning for Natasha to swipe through the file, pictures and notes on the other inmates filling the screen.

"How do you know that they were connected to him?" she asked, working to commit their faces to memory.

Fury waited until she had continued to swipe through the photos before speaking, just as she landed on the pictures that were almost completely red with the amount of blood covering every available surface. 

"They were the only bodies unaccounted for."

Her gaze darted up to him for a moment before she focused on the pictures, frowning as she took in the severity of the wounds, noticing that almost none of the bodies were fully intact, limbs strewn about, and while there were weapons left behind that were clearly used for the dismembering, there were also those whose limbs were torn by hand, those wounds standing out amongst those made by saws and the other crude tools crusted with dried blood.

She frowned when she caught sight of the inmates that were also dismembered, their bodies treated just as poorly as the guards. She could understand why the guards were given the treatment they were—she had heard the stories, and there was a reason the gulags were stopped as soon as they were able to be—but she couldn't understand the cruelty against the others in the same situation.

"How long ago was this?" she asked, tapping her fingers against the side of the tablet, moving back to the photos of the inmates that had been able to escape.

"About six months," he replied, moving to fiddle with items on his desk, "We've been monitoring the situation closely, but there was no trace of him until about a month ago when he showed up here in D.C. We wanted to wait to see what he was planning before we moved in."

"Well," Natasha said, not even considering the concept of questioning the ethics of that decision, "What is he planning?"

"We don't know," Fury admitted, finally looking at her, hand still on one of his trinkets, "But we think they're trying to build something. A weapon, we're not sure, but considering what he did back in the gulag, it can't be anything good. He's sent his people out to different places to gather supplies or do God knows what."

"So what do you want us to do?" she asked, swiping through to the end of the file, finding that there wasn't much else to learn.

"Figure out what he's doing and stop him," Fury said, shrugging, "We're going to do what we can to help, but you and Sweets are probably the only ones here who can really understand what's going on through his head, which is why we're calling you now."

"You might want to work on a better sales pitch when we go talk to him," she said, standing up to set the tablet on Fury's desk, "Because I don't think implying that Sweets is close enough to understand the inner workings of a man who tried to kill him is going to help your case. Especially since you're asking him to face him down in the first place."

"It'll be fine," Fury said evenly, watching as she moved to sit back down, "And whether or not you'll have to face him remains to be seen, we don't fully know what we're up against, but Sweets will be able to handle whatever happens."

"Are you sure you can trust him?" Natasha asked, stopping herself from standing back up to get the tablet back, wanting to look over his file again, "He's not one of us."

"As if you even trust everyone here," Fury snorted, but he answered her question, "He's been very reliable the other times he's worked with us, and he has a very strong moral code, double crossing isn't in his nature."

"Have you forgotten what he was turned into?" Natasha asked, nearly scoffing at the statement, "It might not have been in his nature before, but it definitely is now."

"He didn't finish the program like you did," Fury countered, speaking before Natasha could cut him off, "He's had a lot more time outside of things, and he's spent all that time working on himself. It's like he wanted to become the exact opposite of what he was supposed to be."

"That's not reassuring, that sounds like he's overcompensating," she said, crossing her arms, "He might be trying, but that doesn't mean he won't crack. It's dangerous to have someone like that."

"The man refuses to even hold a gun, he's harmless," Fury said, waving his hand dismissively.

"Then why are you asking him to help?" Natasha asked, torn between being skeptical of the truth behind the words and being shocked at the very concept, "He's a liability if he won't defend himself or fight back."

"Just because he refuses doesn't mean he can't be forced," Fury said, "If anything, we're riding on the hope that he will crack, at least when we need him to. But that's also why he's working with you."

"I will not be play babysitter to a man who can snap a neck with one hand," she seethed, "Especially if he won't even admit to himself that he can. Why are you putting so much faith in him, he sounds like the worst ally to work with."

"Because he's a lot more like you than he'd like, but he's never once turned on us," Fury said, motioning for her to stop speaking, "He's got a lot more control than you think, but we've gotten him to crack before. That's why we need to let him think it over, once he finished his last assignment he wasn't...great. But he got back on his feet and everything has been perfectly fine."

Natasha wanted to point out how terrible every aspect of his statement was, but she knew she couldn't stand a chance against the Director, especially when he already seemed incredibly set in his plan, so she just made a face, hoping that it communicated the level of disapproval she felt.

"Trust me," he said, though they both seemed to find the concept of Natasha fully trusting anyone to be comical, "He'll pull his weight. He's a valuable asset."

"Okay," Natasha relented, because there wasn't much she could do, and she was more than capable of adjusting to a weak link, "When do we go?"

Fury checked his watch, humming to himself. "Well, there's a new bakery that opened up that I want to check out, so you grab your coffee and I'll meet you by the van, we need time for the detour."

Natasha rolled her eyes, standing up to walk out the room, pausing to look back at Fury who was still seated at his desk. "We don't even know what Constantin is doing."

Fury nodded, not looking at her, his fingers steepled in front of his mouth. "Better safe than sorry. That's why I sent Clint after you. If it were you running around, would you trust us to just sit and wait?"

She didn't even blink. "Of course not."

Fury shrugged. "Then what're you waiting for? Go get your coffee."

Natasha sighed and walked out the room, avoiding eye contact with the other agents that passed her in the corridor, only acknowledging Clint who appeared at the end of the hall looking dazed, holding two large coffee cups in his hands.

She plucked the cup from his hand, watching as it took him another moment to realize that he was no longer holding it, blinking at her twice before recognition flooded his eyes. "Oh, hey!"

She smirked around the rim of the cup, raising her eyebrows. "Hey. How long has it been since you've slept?"

"Define slept," he said, taking a long sip from his own cup, making a face, "If you mean more than two hours, it's been two weeks. If you mean more than five hours, I'd say about a month. I think."

Natasha just monitored him from the corner of her eye, the two walking towards one of the various exits, other agents darting and maneuvering out of their way; fortunate, since Clint seemed to be in no position of not bumping into any obstacle he wasn't already fully prepared for.

"How was the debriefing?" he asked, after taking a sip that lasted more than ten seconds, "Fury didn't tell me anything, but he said to get one of the safe houses ready, so I'm guessing that means something."

She nodded, pausing before she replied, "This will be interesting one, I can say that much."

Clint moved to bump her shoulder, cursing when his coffee spilled over his hand, glaring at Natasha as she snickered behind her own cup, dodging out of the way when he tried to tip it back into her face.

"See you later, Barton, I have to go," she called, leaving Clint behind to try and clean up the mess while avoiding the people milling about him, tripping over his feet, cursing profusely.

Natasha slowed as she neared the rendezvous spot some time later, looking around to see if Fury managed to get there before she did. Rather than wait out in the open for him, she moved to sit near a group of new agents who were talking amongst themselves, keeping her eye out as she continued to drink her coffee.

As she waited, she couldn't help but run through all the outcomes that she could imagine, planning in advance as much as she could. Because there was only so much that she did know, she could truly only plan for their meeting later in the day, eyes narrowing at the thought, but she pushed away the rise of discomfort in favor of continuing to plan, so focused that she almost missed Fury reaching their meeting spot. Almost.

"Ready?" he called, watching as she threw away her cup, the two making their way to the van.

She didn't respond, instead just climbing into the passenger seat, doing a quick check around her seat before settling in, trying to avoid the lingering sense of dread that loomed in the back of her mind.

She didn't bother to reply to Fury's question, because, whether or not she was ready, it wasn't as if she had much of a choice.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 05.25.18 ; 02.03.21 )

What do we think of this chapter? Originally, I didn't have Natasha learning as much about Terran nor did I have her debriefing scene be this long, but I liked having Natasha learn a lot up front, because what she learned was purely factual, and she will already know things about him so her perception will get to adjust without an underlying sense of the unknown.

I also hope I wrote Nat okay, I still need to get used to her and her character, but I'm very excited to write her and her interactions with Terran, because I didn't expect her to be as suspicious and distrusting of him as she is, but that makes everything all the more exciting now that she is.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!