-2013-
11 year old Lola stood in the kitchen, by the black wall mounted home phone, twisting the curly cord around her slender fingertips, her breathing ragged and panicked as she watched the news on the television in the living room. It played coverage of the tri-scallion collapsing, and a man with a metal arm battling her mom and Captain America on a bridge.
She called her mom.
And the phone continued to ring.
You have reached the voicemail box of - 201 345 678. -beeeep-
"Mama pók... minden rendben? hamarosan hazaérsz? mi történt S.H.I.E.L.D?" She says into the phone, panicking.
"I'm sure that your mom is ok hon. She'll contact you or your uncle Clint soon." Laura says as Lola hangs up the phone. She nods, and dejectedly shuffles back into the living room, continuing to watch the news.
Natasha's POV.
As I walk away from Fury's gravestone, and Sam and Steve, I head towards the black car parked just at the edge of the cemetery, on the patch of the road that is blocked by the shrubbery. I climb in the passengers seat, and turn to the man sitting in front of the wheel.
"You got a call. They left a voicemail." Fury says to me, and I nod, picking up the phone I got last month. I keep changing them out every so often, so that nobody can trace me.
I press play on the voicemail, and my daughters voice fills the dark car.
Mama pók... minden rendben? hamarosan hazaérsz? mi történt S.H.I.E.L.D?
(Mama spider, are you alright? Will you be home? What happened to S.H.I.E.L.D? )
"Lola sounds more mature." Nick says, and I nod.
"She's doing so much better now than she was a year ago." I say, and Nick nods.
"I'll only stop by the Barton and Romanoff home to see that for my own eyes, and then I'll be on my way." He says.
"Do you have any idea where your going to go?" I ask, and he turns to me.
"That's classified agent."
I smile lightly, and he starts the car, pulling away from the cemetery that he is buried in, and driving towards the woods at the edge of the city, where one qin-jet lies in wait for us.
————————-
-3 hours later-
Lola sits on the carpet in the living room, her smudgy sketch pad sitting on her lap, a assortment of pencils spread out around her. Her littlest cousin, three year old Lila, sits next to her, a piece of paper sitting on the floor in front of her, a pink crayon clutched in her tiny, pudgy fist.
"Whews Auntie Wat Lowa?" Little Lila says to the older girl, and Lola sighs, before setting her sketch pad to the side, and picking little Lila up, and setting her on her lap, and hugging her close.
"I don't know Lila."
Suddenly here is a familiar coded knock on the front door.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Wait
Wait
Wait
Tap.
Natasha was home.
"Auntie Wat!" Lila shrieked, stumbling off of Lolas lap and toddling in the direction of the door. Lola jumped up with wide eyes, and rushed over to the door, scooping Lila up and placing her on her hip as she passed the toddling girl. Lola flicked the door unlocked with a hand, the other wrapped firmly around Lilas waist.
There on the step stood her mom, her shoulder length red hair perfectly straightened, and a tired, but slightly happy expression on her face.
"Mom!" Lola said, and hugged the woman.
"Baba pók. Hiányoztál. hogyan halad a balett és a kerítés? Baby spider. I missed you. How is ballet and fencing going?"
Natasha says to her daughter, kissing her cheek and then taking Lila off of Lola's hip, and into her arms.
" A nagy mamája. hogy vagy? Azt hittem, Fury meghalt? hogyan áll hátra mögötted? Its great mama. how are you? i thought Fury died? how is he standing behind you then?"
Lola says, her words rushing out of her mouth. Natasha laughs, and then Fury says from the shadows behind her,
"I have no idea what in the world you are saying, or what language y'all are even speaking, but I heard my name. So I'm gonna make my entrance. How are you Lola?"
"Nicholas J. Fury. It's nice to see you again. I've been good." Lola says, extending a hand to the man as he steps inside, her voice thick with a accent that Fury can't seem to place.
"It's Fury to you kid. Whats that language you learned since last year?" He says, confused on how she managed to acquire a accent in only a year, while living on a farm in America.
"That's something you might want to take into account on your evaluation. Might want to look into it further as well, even though I already have." Natasha says, shutting the front door, before turning to her daughter.
"Where's Laura,Clint, and Cooper?" Natasha says in English this time.
"Aunt Laura and Uncle Clint went shopping in town. Cooper is upstairs in his bedroom." Lola responds, heading into the living room and sitting on the couch. Natasha and Fury follow the girl, taking seats of their own facing her, with Lila sitting on Natasha's lap.
"So where did the language come from kid?" Fury says, and Lola says,
"About two months after I came here, I recalled something about my past. The first thing in the three years of my life that I can remember."
"You remembered something?" Fury says, surprise evident on his face.
"Yes. I remembered that English was my second language. And that Hungarian was my first." The girl says, her hands nervously twitching.
"I re-evaluated your search on her. There's still no links. This information doesn't give us much to work with. Lola still doesn't exist." Natasha says, and Fury thoughtfully nods.
"What about her power?" Nick says to Natasha.
"She's so much stronger. Her powers are seemingly limitless in strength, and as she grows older I am positive that she will grow even more powerful. As of now I clock her strength compared to the Avengers at being in-between Stark and Banner."
"Good god." Fury says, looking at Lola.
"Are you guys hungry? Because I have to feed Cooper and Lila dinner, so I'm gonna go cook."
"Dinner would be great pók. Thanks. Nick?" Natasha says.
"Dinner would be great miss Romanoff." Fury says to Lola, and she nods, heading into the kitchen. She puts headphones on, and plays music through them while she prepares the food.
Fury watches as Lola levitates slightly in the center of the kitchen, flicking her fingers around, and she chops vegetables, stirs a pot of noodles, and cooks a steak, all at the same time, without even touching anything. The black tendrils fly all around the kitchen as Lola hums softly to herself.
"She's very comfortable here. Two years ago, the only time she was like this was when she was alone with Coulson. It's nice to see that she's adjusted." Fury says, and Natasha smiles and nods. Then Fury's eye catches the mess of art supplies on the carpet, and waggles a eyebrow at them, silently asking if it's alright if he looks.
"She won't mind." Natasha says, and Fury leans down and picks up the sketch pad. He flicks to the beginning, and then slowly analyzes the drawings.
"She's good." Nick mutters, flipping through the graphite smudged pages.
"Yes." Natasha says, pride for Lola in her voice.
"But this Avengers drawing. It's very detailed. A bit too detailed for someone who has only seen the footage of the Avengers on tv. Unless of course, you aren't letting her read your mind after every mission, are you?" He says, but his tone of voice makes it clear. He knows already. No reason to hide now.
"Yes. But I don't show her everything. Only the big things. She gets worried. I find it faster than explaining everything." Natasha mutters.
"You do realize that she has valuable secrets now, you must know that if she were ever compromised-"
"She won't be. She's as good a spy as me." Natasha says.
Fury sighs, and leans back against the chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his eye giving Natasha a skeptical look.
Just then, Lola enters the living room again, her black headphones around her neck, Lila floating in the air behind her, giggling as the black energy snakes around her tiny waist.
Lola floats to the foot of the staircase and calls up it.
"Coop! Dinner is almost ready, wash your hands and come downstairs!"
"Ooookkaayyyyyy" The 10 year old Cooper calls down from the second floor. Lola then floats over to the center of the living room and crosses her legs, hovering in the air. She waves a hand, and little Lila goes floating through the air, over to the kitchen sink, where another tendril flicks the sink on, and the energy washes and dries the little girl's hands for her, before floating her back over to Natasha's lap.
"I'd like to see how you show her your missions." Fury says, and Natasha nods.
"Lola, I'll let you transfer the memories of my last mission now." She says, and Lola nods.
The floating girl uncrosses her legs, but continues to float, now totally straight up and down in the air. Suddenly a tendril of black energy leaves her head instead of her hands, and snakes it's way over to Natasha's head, where it enters her ear. Now that the energy connects both their minds, Lola snaps snaps her fingers of her right hand.
The girl spreads out like a starfish in the air, and her black hair defies gravity, floating around her head. then her eyes and mouth open wide, and a bright white light shines out of them.
And then the girl drops to the floor, kneeling, one fist pressed against the ground.
She stands slowly, and then says,
"So your cover is blown Mama?"
"Yes. But your going to be alright." Natasha says, and Lola nods.
"And Mr. Rogers and Mr. Wilson, you are worried about them?" Lola states.
"A bit. But they will be fine. Now enough revealing my personal feelings! Where is this dinner you made?" Natasha says teasingly, and Lola flashes a wide grin.
"Dinner will be served right now!" She says jokingly, and then heads back into the kitchen to set the table.
"Do you think she's ready?" Natasha says.
"Not yet. She can't be a Avenger yet." Nick replies.
"But she's more than ready to fight with us." Natasha replies.
"But are the Avengers ready to fight with her?" Nick says, turning to her, a knowing look on his face.
"No. They wouldn't be ready for someone like her."
Natasha dejectedly replies, before standing and heading for the kitchen table.
About 5 minutes later, Laura and Clint arrive home, joining the rest of their family at the table. That night, after dinner, Fury left again. Nobody knew where he went, this time.