( avengers: infinity war )
★
WE WORK IN the dark to serve the light.
It was safe to say that Chloe had absolutely no clue as to where her previous team was located. After the events that took place in London, the woman had lost contact with her former team― merely guessing they dropped off the map and were taking a vacation in the Bahamas without her, the bastards.
Sure, she could find another base after the events approaching took place, and she could reintegrate herself into the work and forget about the last seventy-two hours in peace, but Chloe had only known the D.C. base ever since she was about fifteen. Spending roughly seven years in one spot with rare movement tended to make the heart grow expectant.
Never again would she have the same secret stash of sodas, never again would she have the same crappy futon in the corner of her office, never again would she be able to challenge her self-appointed rival, never again would she―
―She cut herself off from that train of thought and focused on her arm. The rusted metal that stayed her blade was a deep purple, surrounded by blue and red. Her fingers traced the mechanics that made up the weapon by habit, her brain switching from one hurdle to the next.
First, she needed to find a home. Maybe start a new life outside of the D.C. metropolitan area, maybe leave the states altogether. Second, Chloe needed to find a way to deal with the centuries worth of weapons sitting in a hump surrounded by natural elements and mental instability the Assassin didn't dare touch. A third was yet to be decided, but it was probably something along the lines of dealing with the curious and sympathetic glances she had been receiving ever since the Captain had announced they needed to go to Wakanda if they wanted to save the robot that the witch was dating.
How this had turned out to be Chloe's life was beyond comprehension.
However, by the time the twenty-one-year-old had felt the small nudging of another's brain in her own, the Assassin looked up at Wanda with a raised eyebrow. Looking sheepish, the slightly older woman sat across from Chloe with a mug of tea cupped in her hands.
"I apologize for being forward," Wanda muttered as Steve and Natasha passed by with a few boxes. "You just seem... troubled."
A small smile graced her face. "Understatement of the century."
The witch chuckled, letting the conversation drop into a comfortable, yet heavy silence― until another prod.
"Wanda, if you want to know what's going on in my mind, just ask."
A soft smile. "I think they wouldn't mind having you stay around until you could find your feet."
Chloe leaned back in her chair and stared at the floor. Her thoughts screeched to a halt as one final thought crossed her mind. Yes, they might be willing to have her stay, but what would happen if she did?
"I don't do well with people who I barely know for more than twenty-four hours," was the excuse she decided on.
Before the Maximoff could respond, Sam poked his head around the corner. "Frye, you ever have a conversation with Stark?"
A small pique of interest settled in her gut. "No, why?"
He stepped out from behind the corner with a large, metal briefcase with C. Frye scribbled on a label. Wilson set it before her and turned, leaving to help Rogers with... whatever. Chloe glanced curiously at the case and looked at Wanda expectantly.
She shrugged, taking a sip of her tea.
A roll of the eyes and a click of an unlocking case filled the silence, and a whirring of technology and smell of leather occupied it next.
Chloe jumped as the case sprung to life.
Three levels extended out, holograms jumping to life and a steady blue glow reaching the ceiling. The bottom level was an exact deep red replica of her suit that she had just lost hours ago. Everything was the same, from the strings that tightened the suit, and the transition from red to green at the bottom of the material. The first level held an assortment of knives, smoke pellets, darts, arrows, and wires― whether, for electricity or a more lethal use, she had yet to find out. The third was the one that caught the breath in her throat. A folded sword, bow, and quiver, and batons sat neatly under a letter with her initials C.F. written neatly on an expensive paper.
After a careful examination, she opened the paper.
Chloe―
You're a hard woman to find. If you've received this, then something went right or wrong after Germany. I just hope I'm the one that is able to give you this.
―T.S.
(P.S.― whoever created your original suit was either from the dark ages or hadn't seen the light of day in years.)
A chuckle escaped her as she set the paper down, raising the material up. The material was stretchy and flexible, yet still had the smell, feel, and appearance of leather. A pang of nostalgia went through her system before she steadied her racing heart.
"Well," Chloe spoke, making eye contact with awe-filled eyes, "guess you'll just have to make room for another on the ride to Wakanda."
★
The visit to Wakanda wasn't as dramatic as the first.
For starters, the woman wasn't being debriefed for protecting the prince of Wakanda, but then again, wasn't she about to be debriefed for protecting the world?
For the first few hours, Chloe let out steam on an anticipatory Natasha, who encouraged the small distraction. A few comments, a few jabs, and the Assassin was well on her way to blocking out the previous few days in favor of a clear mind and lighter heart.
The new tech given to her by Tony Stark― it was a surprise to everyone except Rhodey― was fluid and fast, all materials fitting to her like a glove. How the genius managed to get (or guess) her measurements, the Frye really didn't want to know. Not knowing was probably for the best in this scenario.
Chloe walked towards a piloting Sam in favor of seeing the reaction everyone would most definitely have upon entering the country for the first time, and the woman was most certainly not disappointed.
Steve walked up behind Sam. "Drop to 2600, heading 0-3-0."
"I hope you're right about this," Sam commented, doing as their leader said, "or we're gonna land a lot faster than you want to."
The Assassin smirked, leaning up against the entrance to the cockpit, as the team bypassed Wakanda's cloaking technology and entered the city. Flying over the water, directions to a landing pad appeared on her screen.
Following the directions, Sam soon landed on their designated spot, cutting off the engine and lowering the ramp.
Chloe stepped in front of Rhodey and Bruce, slinging a duffel bag of her weapons over one shoulder and keeping the case securely in her hands. Stepping out with Sam, the woman squinted at the sudden light and looked at the country before her, chuckling lightly at the conversation behind her.
"Should we bow?"
"Yeah, he's a king."
"Seems like I'm always thanking you for something," Cap smiled, shaking T'Challa's hand.
"What are you doing?"
"We don't do that here."
Chloe held back a snort, nodding to Okoye and sending T'Challa a two-fingered salute, as much as she could with the luggage she was carrying. The King seemed to accept it, sending a smile before falling into step with Steve and Natasha. Chloe did the same with Bruce and Rhodey.
"So how big of an assault should we expect?"
Bruce tried to wedge his way in between the Colonel and Chloe. "Sir, I think you should expect a pretty big assault."
"How we looking?" Natasha inquired.
"You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and―"
"―And a semi-stable hundred-year-old man."
The two old friends reunited, sharing a hug and a pat. "How you been, Buck?"
"Not bad, for the end of the world."
★
couldn't find a gif of madeleine alone, so enjoy that gif of aveline killing her lmao.
holy wow this took a while to crunch out, sorry for that.
been swamped with end-of-semester projects, assignments, and finals. as promised, the next update should come out around new years, but actually getting around to writing it will either be on the 26th or the 27th.
quick psa for y'all: if i haven't updated in a few weeks or months, i promise it's not because i'm abandoning this project or anything. contrary to popular belief, i do have a life outside of this website that demands attention from time to time. motivation is a tricky thing that comes in short waves and usually can't be forced.
so please recognize that this is a hobby, not a job. i'm not getting paid to write this.
for those of you who understand and are patient with me, thank you so much. you are the reason why i write these chapters and this story and continue to write.
happy holidays everyone!
peace,
aidan.