𝗗𝗜𝗚𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘

Growing Pains

AEI: ao3 is down so i'm suffering greatly right now, but at least wattpad is available. anyway, today was one of those days where the sentences would just not flow the way i wanted them to, which is really fucking annoying because i've been looking forward to writing this chapter. trying to write around real, canon dialogue is rlly fucking hard!!

anyways, we progress. if this is in the wrong font, big apologies bc i'm having formatting issues...

Sometimes, when Isabell has the creeping sensation that something is going to go horribly wrong, she gets a rush of electric elation.

Not real happiness, of course, but the feeling of every nerve in her body coming alive, every one of her senses becoming clearer, and it's like being an assassin again. Perfectly in control because she has already foreseen the outcome.

But, sitting in a loud Madripoor bar, all control seems to have left her, and yet the jittery rush in her veins remains.

Isabell's instructions were very simple. She is to stay in the background, as anonymous as she always used to be, and step in if needed. Zemo was insistent, however, that she must be completely unnoticeable. The Faceless Children still pose a threat to those in darker communities, the name still powerful, but it works better when people are still unaware of who they are.

In this bar, Faceless Children could be anyone, anywhere, especially if they are no longer children. While only Isabell still exists, the people they are meeting don't know that.

She is a threat. The feeling is so good, so compelling after Isabell has spent years being weak, that she doesn't even mind taking orders from Zemo.

James, however, had a little more to say in the matter.

"You're not using her." He spent the entire car journey arguing, talking in hushed voices in hopes she wouldn't hear. "She's practically a baby, you can't just waltz in there and play her as part of your stupid little game."

"Miss Hansen is compliant." Zemo had replied, entirely calm. "Surely it is her decision?"

"Not while she's still a kid."

"Are you her guardian?"

"Sure, why not."

"Legally?"

James went silent.

It's not like he would've won the argument anyway.

Now, Isabell watches him from the opposite end of the bar, one leg tucked underneath her and fingers twisted tight around an untouched glass of water. His expression is stony, and he is playing his role well, but he's betrayed by how frequently he's looking at her.

Isabell shakes her head, very slowly and very carefully.

James turns to stare at the ground.

From the looks of it, Zemo is doing the talking, his smile thin and snake-like. Sam, meanwhile, has just been served the most bizarre drink Isabell has ever seen, and he's looking like he's trying not to vomit.

In some strange way, Isabell seems to be having the best time of this.

She watches the conversation progress. The situation seems to be growing tenser, more and more eyes fixing on James, and Zemo leans over to whisper something to him.

A very dead look settles over James' eyes.

Isabell's blood runs cold.

Before she even has the chance to think, he grabs the man closest to Zemo and twists his arm behind his back, before kicking his feet out from under him and forcing him to the floor.