Barton Home, USA

Fall 2015

Honestly? Natasha was still a little surprised that Nadine had come along to the Bartons' with as little objection as she had.

She knew her sister was still adjusting to the idea that she was, for all intents and purposes, free from the life she'd had before Prague. Nadine was still getting used to the idea that she didn't need to look over her shoulder every second of the day anymore, or the idea that she was no longer beholden to anyone; that she was free to do as she pleased. That, deny it as she might, she wasn't even strictly obligated to Steve or the mission he'd settled on her to find Barnes. Not really. As much as he was relying on her to find Bucky, Natasha knew that, were Nadine to express a wish to move on, Steve wouldn't hold it against her. He'd be disappointed, sure, but now that he'd gotten to know her? Now that he'd learned more about her past? Natasha suspected he would understand if Nadine were to ever express the desire to leave that part of her life behind for good.

Not that Natasha could ever see that happening. She might consider leaving the Compound, but Nat didn't believe for a moment that Nadine would voluntarily give up on her search for Barnes if she did. Not considering how long she'd been looking.

The idea that Nadine would want to search for him on her own hadn't really been all that much of a surprise. It was more just how long she'd been working on finding him that Natasha hadn't expected. That Nadine had been already been looking for him? That she'd been searching almost from the moment she'd run? And just how much work she'd been putting into her search! The risks she had taken by actively chasing the Winter Soldier? Natasha had been all but transfixed by the spread Nadine had set up in her Workshop and the sheer amount of material she'd managed to scrounge up. It hadn't been just a casual project.

Not by a long shot.

But then, very little her sister did was casually done. She threw herself into everything she set herself to, be it finding Barnes or as the self-proclaimed training consultant she was serving as at the Compound.

No one was spared when Nadine was in charge. Not that the training in general was easy—Natasha pushed her charges just as hard, her exacting standards nearly pushing Wanda to snap at her new mentor over the pressure the week before—but Nadine had a gift for pushing those under her tutelage to just shy of their breaking point. Aches and pains and bruises were commonplace after one of her training sessions. Not even Natasha was spared, the younger sister spy coming out of the sessions with aches and pains of her own that she hadn't had in longer than she cared to admit. And she was an instructor herself!

But Nadine was getting results, and her pupils were, under the blonde assassin's high standards and punishing pace, thriving.

It seemed Madame B had indeed been onto something when she'd pegged Nadine as a threat to her position; Nadine would have been utterly formidable had she gone on to take over the Red Room programme as their former training mistress had feared.

And it wasn't just the Avengers recruits taking advantage of her knowledge anymore. Since she started taking over instructing their three young recruits in hand to hand and weapons training, more and more of the Compound's agents and general personnel had been trickling into the training area to watch, some of the former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents looking like they were mentally taking notes.

It had gotten to the point where, just a few days ago, Nadine had started pulling them into the lessons as well, having as little interest in an audience as two of her pupils did—not surprisingly, Pietro wasn't bothered by an enthralled and awed crowd. And naturally, she hadn't gone easy on her conscripts either. It was not uncommon at the moment for limps, sore muscles and bruises to be spotted all over the Compound. But interest in the sessions had not waned in the slightest. It had become worth the chance of being pulled onto the mats just to watch. Not that the physical punishment was anything but worth it itself.

That and there had been a rather impressive face-off between Nadine and Maria Hill as a demonstration that Natasha had caught the tail end of the other day. Her sister had come away on top, as Natasha expected, but Hill hadn't made it easy. A fact her sister had enjoyed, Natasha recalled happily, remembering the exhilarated flush on her sister's cheeks and the pleased warmth in her normally cool grey eyes. Fury, who had been the one to hold Natasha up that day, keeping her from the beginning of the unscheduled match, had merely looked to Natasha with a smug expression. One that Nat had answered with an exasperated but pleased smirk of her own.

And Nadine was enjoying herself. That was something else Natasha was certain of. Nadine was enjoying her role as a consulting instructor at the Compound. She was enjoying the chance to teach what she knew and to teach what she was good at. Just seeing Nadine as she praised Wanda when the Sokovian had finally caught onto a trick for changing hands in weapons training she'd been struggling with, or coaching Nina when the younger blonde's stance faltered because of how she kept landing on her back foot told Natasha as much. Loud and clear. She was certainly enjoying it far more than she had being a ballet instructor. And Natasha had gotten the impression that Nadine had become rather fond of that role as well.

But there was still a wariness to her sister that had Natasha concerned. Like the blonde assassin was waiting for something to go wrong. Waiting for the moment when it would all inevitably end.

The one thing Natasha was nervous about? Despite knowing better? Despite knowing how much Nadine had come to enjoy being at the Compound? She feared that, if Nina no longer had to be at the Compound, Nadine would leave despite how much she might actually want to stay. That Nina was the only thing really keeping Nadine here.

It was an irrational fear, of course. Natasha knew better. She got the feeling that Nadine felt at home in the Compound—whether Nadine had realized as much or not, yet—and that it was something the blonde assassin wasn't going to give up easily. Not if she was anything like Natasha in that regard. Besides, Nat knew Nina wasn't the only thing keeping her sister at the Compound. She knew Nadine stayed for her too, their relationship proving every bit as precious to both of them as it had been when they were children. More so, even. Easily. Nadine wasn't about to abandon her. Not again. Natasha was confident about that. It reassured her a great deal, really.

More than that, Natasha knew Nadine felt like she had a purpose here, one that transcended everything they had both been raised to believe themselves capable or even deserving of. Natasha had believed she'd found hers when she'd found S.H.I.E.L.D., only to truly find it, to truly believe it, when she'd embraced her place among the Avengers. Well, Nadine was finding that now. She'd had her first tastes when Nina had been born, her baby girl giving the blonde assassin a purpose beyond herself. But now that Nina was all but grown? Nadine was finding that she could have a purpose that was all her own. One that wasn't dependent on someone else and her need to protect and care for that someone.

Nadine was finally starting to realize that she could do good on her own merits, and not just for Nina's sake.

That she could have her own life.

It was a huge step.

Yet Natasha still couldn't quite help the small, pervasive fear that her sister could still leave, even after considering her involvement in helping their new members train or her use of the Compound's resources in facilitating her different searches.

It was a fear brought on by her own experience, really. Looking at Nadine now was like looking at a reflection of her past self. Natasha had been in the same shoes once, after all, fighting to unlearn years of conditioning and habits. To relearn how to rely on others. To learn how to actually trust.

To learn that she could actually belong somewhere if she wanted to.

Hell, she'd had to face those feelings all over again during the Ultron Fiasco, when Wanda's manipulations in Johannesburg had brought all her unresolved issues in the matter rushing back to the surface from where she'd long ago buried them away.

There had been several times in her early S.H.I.E.L.D. days where she'd considered moving on, disappearing. Times where she'd feared her place in the agency had been just another iteration of her time with the KGB. Times where the turn her life had taken had felt too good to be true. But each time she'd been convinced to stay, first by Clint and Fury, eventually by herself. It had just taken time. The Red Room had been ruthlessly efficient in training the notion that they had the ability to 'belong' somewhere out of them all.

It was a long road toward getting past that.

But Nadine really was making progress on that front. Having Nina, having been needed by her daughter for so many years had laid the foundation for what Nadine was attempting to learn...or rather, unlearn. Already she was opening up and beginning to trust even if she scoffed at Natasha's observations of it. She already trusted Natasha, and she'd demonstrated just hours ago that she'd grown to trust Laura and Clint far quicker than Natasha had expected. Certainly faster than the blonde assassin had expected if her barely contained surprise had been any indication.

And she was beginning to trust Steve, Natasha recalled happily, even if she didn't truly recognize as much yet; though, Natasha suspected that was beginning to change. Nadine spoke to him, openly. And more than once in recent days, despite Nadine's still visible reservations about doing so, Natasha had noticed her sister going to Steve directly with updates on her search for Barnes instead of allowing Natasha pass them along to the Captain. Even when she had nothing substantial to report. That alone was nearly astonishing to Natasha.

There were times when Natasha felt like Nadine barely felt comfortable sharing that she'd made little progress in her mission to find Barnes with her, the admission likely making her feel vulnerable. Like she had failed. And Nat was her sister, arguably the person Nadine trusted most.

Of course, the idea that having nothing new was a failure was a ridiculous thought—Nadine was far from giving up, after all, and it wasn't like she hadn't already made remarkable progress since Paris—but it was one Natasha knew she couldn't help. They'd long ago learned to see the lack of results as failure and failure as weakness, a mindset Natasha was still fighting against herself from time to time.

That Nadine was beginning to not only go to Steve first when it came to news on Barnes—she'd felt far too guilty those first weeks to so much as consider it—but to admit to him directly when she didn'thave anything new to report? That was a huge step. Especially when it came to Barnes.

Natasha had discerned quickly that the topic of Bucky Barnes was just as sensitive a topic for Nadine was it was to Steve. For good reason, of course, but it had still taken Natasha a bit off guard when she'd first realized just how much. Naturally, she'd expected it to be sensitive, even before she'd known about Nina. Just not as sensitive.

In retrospect, that had been an obvious miscalculation on her part. Why wouldn't finding him, helping him, be important to Nadine? Natasha had known even back then that her older sister felt guilty and responsible for what had happened. Nadine had maintained her good heart despite the training they had both endured, after all. Arguably more so than Natasha had. That wasn't even considering Steve's absent musings about whether the Treatments had acted as the serum he'd been given had and enhanced not just physical traits, but personality ones as well; good becomes great and bad becomes worse, or something.

And even though they had been conditioned to have far more flexible morals than the average person? What Nadine had been asked—pushed, even forced, really—to do had obviously sat wrong with her even all those years before, when their perceptions had still been horrifically skewed thanks to their environment and their upbringing. Of course Barnes was going to be personal for Nadine. Of course she was going to feel the need to find him.

And that wasn't even factoring for Nina.

Nina.

Natasha suppressed a heavy sigh, restraining the urge to drop her head to her hands or at the very least attempt to massage away the headache she knew she was likely to develop trying to figure out what to do about her niece.

With each passing day, it was becoming more and more clear to Natasha that Nina's heart wasn't wholly behind her decision to join Wanda and Pietro for training.

No, her powers were behind that decision.

Well, that and a desire to try and to prove, not just to Nadine, but to herself that she wasn't helpless, that Nina was more than capable of looking after herself.

It was something else that had become clear the longer she worked with Nina.

But her powers...

Natasha still had no idea how to handle that particular development. On one hand, now that Nina was definitely Enhanced beyond what she'd inherited from Nadine—powerfully so, if what little she'd seen and heard about her powers were any indication—she could see the benefit of Nina have at least some measure of training to go along with them. Even if she was still keeping them under wraps for the time being...something else Natasha was working on.

And from the point of view of an Avenger? Having powers like Nina's on the Team once she'd accepted and revealed them would be a huge asset. Even having just some of Nina's skills would be an asset. The girl had a talent for writing algorithms. Ones that put even Nadine's to shame at times. In putting those abilities to the test the other day? The clever little program Nina had written with the assistance of the Compound's U.I. for breaking an old HYDRA encryption code had worked thirteen percent faster than the one Natasha had written as a baseline. Natasha still couldn't escape the smug little grin Nadine had given her after that exercise. And all Nina'd had to say?

"I've always liked solving problems." Complete with a guileless shrug.

Not to mention she was a decent fighter, a quick thinker, observant with a good memory...there were a lot of pros to Nina being a part of their new Avenger program. She wasn't anywhere up to Nadine or Natasha's level, and barely matching some of the trained former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, but considering her age and lack of formal training? And she was improving daily. Overall, she had a great deal of potential. And together with Wanda, she was able to help keep Pietro in line; a task easier said than done, some days.

But Nina wasn't satisfied. Natasha could see it in the set of her mouth and the barely perceptible weary reluctance in the set of her shoulders every morning. Oh, she seemed to be enjoying herself well enough, daily additions to her list of bruises, sore muscles and mental fatigue after the long days they were put through aside. She put on a good face, that was for sure.

But at the same time, Natasha was certain the training wasn't quite sitting right with her niece. She hadn't fully committed herself to it the way the Twins or even Sam and Rhodey had. The young blonde might be well on her way to being Avenger-capable, but she didn't quite have the temperament for it.

Nadine had been right when she'd confided to Natasha that she didn't think her cheerful, compassionate daughter was entirely cut out to spend the rest of her life fighting. Capable as she might be, Nina wasn't a fighter at heart. Her weapons skills were up to par, as were her hand-to-hand skills, but every time she hit the mats to train, she pulled her punches. If she was against another person, Nina held back until she was pushed out of it. It was something Nadine had admitted that Nina had been doing since her days in extra-curricular martial arts. She hadn't entirely disabused Nina of the practice because of the minor measure of Enhancement Nina had inherited from Nadine—hitting with the power of an adult in a child's competition would've drawn too much attention, after all—but Natasha wasn't so sure habit was behind the tendency. Nina just genuinely didn't want to hit. And Natasha wasn't even sure it was a conscious effort either.

No, Nina thought she had to be there, Natasha had long since concluded. And all because she had powers.

Powers she had yet to share with anyone save the Twins and Natasha herself. And Natasha had been an accident.

Her powers were going to be the key. Natasha was sure of that too. If she could get Nina to open up about her powers? To tell Nadine? She very much suspected that Nina would finally realize that she didn't have to be like the Avengers. That she didn't have to be like them. Perhaps then the young blonde would be able to turn her mind to the things she actually wanted. Or at least, she'd be able to finally have the space to figure out what that was. Nadine had said Nina had been excited for university. Perhaps once she wasn't caught up on her new powers and what she thought she had to do with them, Nina could decide if she still wanted that.

It was hard to say.

"You're thinkin' awfully hard over here." Natasha looked up at Clint as he settled next to her on the couch, handing her a bottle of beer that matched his own. With a distracted smile she accepted it, raising it slightly in toast before taking a drink. Clint watched with an unsatisfied look before his face split into an amused grin.

"Good call on Cap, by the way. I swear, she almost blushed." Nat snorted at the blasé remark.

"Told you. It's your fault for doubting," she quipped back with mock offense.

"Never said I doubted," he said with a broad grin. Nat spared him a grin back, but it apparently wasn't quite convincing enough. Not for Clint. He seemed to catch on that her thoughts were still elsewhere.

"Okay, spill," he finally said, settling back into the cushions and propping his feet up on the ottoman, his attention fixed solely on her.

Natasha hesitated, biting at the inside of her lip before glancing up to Clint with a reluctant expression. She needed to confide in someone—someone other than Fury—and for obvious reasons Nadine was out. Glancing over to the kitchen, where Nadine, Nina, Laura and the rest had gathered to start on dinner—the happy noise easily ready to serve as a safeguard against eavesdropping—Natasha made her on-the-spot decision. She forced herself to relax back into the cushions herself.

"Nina has powers," she finally murmured. Clint's eyes snapped to hers, his gaze intent and demanding. Slowly Natasha nodded in confirmation before continuing. "I've seen them, Clint. It was her in Sokovia." He frowned, though comprehension began to glimmer in his eyes. "She's the one who saved you. Pietro...well, he was saved just as much as you were by, well, whatever it was she did."

"What are they," he asked just as softly after a moment, his features schooled but his gaze curious. Natasha opened her mouth to answer, only to pause to think over what she'd seen and what she'd been told.

"Some sort of psycho-kinetic field—maybe even psionic—I think. Fury called it an Inhibiting Field; I asked him to take some of the readings I got on her while Nadine was away off to one of his experts on Enhancements to try and figure it out. It's something that can block not only physical objects to some degree but psychic abilities as well; it may even function as some sort of block against Enhanced powers in general. She can keep Wanda's powers out and blocked Wanda from sensing Pietro that day. It's why Wanda had thought Pietro had been killed." Clint's frown deepened further.

"But both she and Pietro were shot," he countered. Natasha shrugged.

"Maybe she couldn't block every bullet? Or just slowed them down? She was still in pretty rough shape that day. I don't know. I don't think she can control it yet. And even though none of them said as much, it sounded like Sokovia was the first time it manifested.

"All I know is that the Twins are convinced that what happened in Sokovia against the Quinjet was all her," Natasha concluded. "Pietro's certain he didn't do anything except run in front of you. That she was the one who shielded you all." Clint let out a gusting breath, astonishment clear in the sound as he processed Natasha's explanation.

"I guess we should have gone with Nicholas instead of Pietro after all," he said thoughtfully after a moment. Natasha gaped at him before a twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away. He laughed as she smacked him on the arm for the flat joke.

It was then that Clint fixed her with a probing look.

"Does Nadine know?" He already knew the answer. He'd put it together thanks to her state as he'd walked up. He knew her too well, sometimes. Natasha sighed again, easily restraining the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. She could understand where Nina was coming from in her insistence on not telling Nadine yet. She really could. They weren't bad arguments. But that didn't mean she liked it, or that she thought it was the right call.

But Nina was just as stubborn as her mother.

"Nina doesn't want to tell her yet," she admitted, not bothering to hide her feelings on the matter from her best friend. Slowly Clint nodded, a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes. He got it without her needing to say anything more.

"She's afraid to tell Nadine." Natasha looked to him with surprise, her eyes widening at his observation. She hadn't expected him to make that leap right away. He grinned, thought the expression was far more sedate than it typically was. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out Nadine doesn't like that she's Enhanced, Nat. Mostly because of how it affected Nina, I think. She seems to be getting better about it the longer she's around you guys, but it's still there. It's no great stretch to think Nina is just as well aware of that fact and dreads Nadine's reaction to her being powered because of it." Natasha had to grant him that. She'd come to the same conclusion before Nina had even confessed as much. Natasha hesitated again before looking to the archer, her features serious.

"I promised her I wouldn't tell, Clint," she finally said. Clint sighed heavily.

"But you don't agree with her."

"No. But still...I can understand why. But at the same time I don't. She should tell her, but Nina won't budge on this. I don't even have to try to know. I've been working on the Twins, trying to get them on board with trying to convince her, but..." Clint visibly commiserated without saying a word. Natasha groaned in frustration, slumping down in her chair. "I'm so glad Cooper, Lila and Nate are too young for this kind of drama," she muttered. Clint barked out a laugh.

"It also helps that they're not Enhanced, or teenagers," he pointed out. "No special powers and no hormones." Natasha couldn't help but grin at his teasing, which was just what he'd intended. The comment having cheered her up, even if only slightly, she pressed on.

"So?" Clint cocked his head in question. Natasha made a face at the gesture that had him chuckling before continuing. "What do you think? Fury's already weighed in," she added dryly, taking another sip of her beer. Fury had certainly weighed in on the matter when he'd brought back the results on Nina's powers that Natasha had left with him; the same day Thor had left and Nadine had made her decision to stay, actually. Barton huffed out a chuckle.

"And what did our esteemed former boss have to say?" Natasha nearly rolled her eyes, scoffing lightly as she relaxed further, propping her own feet up next to Clint's.

"Yeah...well, you know Fury. Blunt truths and vague statements all rolled into one. Honestly? He wasn't very helpful." Clint shook his head with a wry grin as Natasha took another drink, raising his own bottle to his lips.

"He told you to leave Nina to figure it out on her own, didn't he." Natasha shrugged.

"Basically."

"The man is obviously not a parent..." Barton muttered. Natasha snorted in amusement. Maybe, maybe not. He might not be a parent—that they knew of—but the man knew people. His advice had been undoubtedly insightful, almost frighteningly so, as always. But this time it had basically been to let mother and daughter sort it out between them and to let the cards fall where they may. Natasha was not happy with it, but at the same time, she knew he was probably right on some level. It was Nina's call. She was effectively an adult, and how she handled telling everyone about her powers was her business.

But at the same time, she was still technically a minor—even if only for a few more months—and she was family. Did that mean it was Natasha's responsibility to tell Nadine? Was it worth betraying Nina's trust over Nadine's? Would Nadine understand if she kept Nina's secret? Since it was Nina they were talking about? Natasha honestly had no idea.

She hadn't been exaggerating when she'd told Nina her mom could be unpredictable when it came to her.

"If it were you," she asked her best friend softly. "If it were Cooper who had asked me to keep something like this to myself? To leave him to tell you in his own time?" Barton sighed.

"I would want you to warn me, I suppose. But Cooper's still a kid. Nina's not anymore, no matter how much she might feel that way to us, no matter how young she might still seem at times. No matter her age. Not really. Not after being put through more than most adults could ever dream of and pulling through the way she did." He sighed heavily. "There does come a time when kids need to be allowed to take charge of their own lives. Laura's already getting on me to accept that about ours, especially Cooper. Something as big as this? As much as I want to say tell Nadine, it's Nina's life. As much as I don't like to say it, I think Fury might be right."

"I was afraid you might say that," Natasha grumbled, more resigned than genuinely upset. "And there I hoped you were going to convince me that this was one of those rare occasions when Fury was wrong." Barton shrugged, grinning in sympathy.

"Doesn't mean you can't nudge her in the right direction, though." Natasha's gaze snapped intently to Clint, her brow furrowing in silent demand to explain.

"How do you mean?" Clint leaned back further in his seat, stretching and lacing his fingers behind his head.

"Well, she's aiming to become an Avenger, right?" Natasha nodded absently in agreement, urging him to continue. "Make telling a condition. Really, it probably should be anyway." Natasha caught on immediately.

"She can't have a secret like that if she wants to be on the team, anyway. It would put everyone at risk if she tried," she continued thoughtfully. "It is a legitimate concern. We all need to be aware of each other's capabilities—strengths, weaknesses, abilities—to work together, to trust each other. A secret like that could be dangerously counterproductive." Barton nodded, reaching for his drink.

"Exactly." He paused, turning thoughtful again as he sipped his beer. "And get the Maximoffs on board too." Natasha cocked a brow at his suggestion. "They know, right? She trusts them. If they're advising it too, it'll help steer Nina in the right direction." Natasha nodded, sinking into thought herself for a moment before grinning impishly at her friend.

"I knew I liked you." He smirked, lifting his bottle to her in mock toast.

"Well, you didn't keep me around for my looks, ruggedly handsome as they are." Smirking back, she raised her own beer to clink against his.

"Damn right," she agreed without missing a beat. He feigned a pained flinch.

"Ouch, Widow. That's cold. You're not supposed to agree that easily."

Their laughter was loud enough to reach through the happy chaos that had overtaken the Barton kitchen, causing several sets of eyes to turn their way. Including one suddenly reprimanding set of brown eyes.

And without anyone having to say a word, two sets of feet had dropped from the ottoman with a synchronized thud.

Laura just grinned, pleased.

A/N: Thanks for Reading!

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