Author's Note: Hey everyone, it's me again. Rest assured that there is going to be a Widow's daughter Sequel, and for now, here is a sneak peak of what might happen in the next book. I hope you enjoy reading it, and there's more coming soon!
Holly's POV
I was woken up by my alarm beeping shrilly in my ear, and, groaning, I rolled over on my bed to turn it off. Yawning and stretching, I rubbed my sleep-encrusted eyes blearily, looking around. It was still pitch black, and the blinking green numbers on my alarm clock read 4:30.
I slumped off my bed, which was hard, like a slab of rock, covered by only one blanket, just how I liked it. Flicking the duvet up with my palms, I expertly made it prison-warden neat, tucking the blanket into the mattress. My room in the Avengers Tower was stark (gettit?) and bare, containing nothing apart from my bed, wardrobe, mirror and desk. The walls were white and it had a nice view out over the field, but it was quite small, and purposefully distanced from my sister's.
Kira and Evie's rooms were right next to one another, on the same level as me, but on the other end, near Natasha's room. When Tony had asked where I wanted my room to be, I'd purposefully asked for it to be away from everyone else's, and nobody had argued. As nice as they were, the Avengers didn't really trust me yet, and the only person who I really felt comfortable around was Kira, although she spent most of her time hanging out with Evie, Ben, and Peter.
The Salvatore Squad weren't here. They tended to come and go, and hardly spoke to me anymore. Although, I supposed I'd deserved that.
I did get lonely sometimes, watching the Avengers hang out like a big family. I'd never had a proper family before - and besides, love weakens people. I couldn't save to be weak, not right now, even though there were some days when I wished I could act like Natasha's daughter, like Kira did.
I hastily climbed out of my pyjamas and into a fresh pair of tracksuit pants and my black training hoodie. I combed my messy shoulder-length red hair back into a sleek ponytail and brushed my teeth. I didn't bother with makeup, like Evie and Kira wore, leaving my face looking gaunt and hollow, deep bags under my eyes.
I laced up my black sneakers, which I only used for their true purpose - to be sneaky. And so, making sure to be as quiet as possible, I treaded softly out of my room.
I made my way along Natasha's floor. I could see with a pang of homesickness that in Kira's room, she, Evie and Peter were laughing as they bounced on the bed. Peter flung a sour strap at Evie and Kira threw her head back, laughing that ugly-snort laugh she did. Rolling my eyes, I moved past, heading down the stairs to the training floor.
Then, after covering my hands in chalk, I started to train. I moved through my fitness routine like I always did, starting with 100 pushups and moving on to 200 sit ups. I swung myself from the beams and practiced my flexibility, going into the splits. I punched the punching bag so hard my fists began to bleed, and after I'd bound them, I continued until the sun rose. When the clock said 8:15, and I was sweaty and wobbly on my feet, I decided that, after checking the door that nobody was there, I started to go through my ballet routine, moving to the barre. I asked FRIDAY to play the Swan Lake soundtrack and danced my worries away, prancing around the training room like I was a little girl again. When I danced, I could forget that I was Holly Adams, Natasha Romanoff's disgraced third daughter, and become somebody else - somebody better. I forgot about my perfect sisters, about the Salvatores, about the horrors of the Battle of Galway.
I could forget about everything.
As I moved into the grand jete, I heard a noise behind me. Somebody was clearing their throat. I stopped dancing immediately, a scowl darkening my face as I looked towards the maker of the noise.
It was Kira. She was standing with her hip cocked against the doorframe, her long crimson locks tumbling over her shoulders, her lips quirked in a quizzical smile. She looked as effortlessly beautiful as always, dressed in black mission leather - every inch Natasha, and that made me glare even more.
"What?" I demanded, cracking my knuckles nervously. My palms were sweaty.
"I never knew you did ballet," my sister said, grinning mischievously.
I scowled. "I don't," I hissed, looking at my feet. "I was training."
"Your grand jete was beautiful," Kira told me. "Graceful. Elegant. You're really good at ballet."
I ignored her and started to unravel the bandages wrapping my fists. Blisters were coating my knuckles.
"I did ballet in the Red Room," Kira continued. "They made us do it until we couldn't take it anymore. It was really cruel, actually, but the upside is I can now dance relatively well. Nothing like you, though. Where did you learn? With Agnelsson?"
At the mention of my foster father's name I snapped my head up, glaring at my sister darkly. "What do you want, Kira?" I demanded angrily.
"We have a mission," she told me, holding out her hand. "Come on."
I slapped her hand away and exited the training room. We walked through the Tower in silence, me scowling at the ground and Kira striding quickly, a small skip in her step. She was so happy, all the time... I guess that came with being Black Widow's favourite daughter, which made me envy her even more. She had it so easy, here... this truly was her home, her family.
I didn't belong here.
When we got into the Briefing Room, the first thing that I noticed was that my seat was taken. Evie was sitting in it, her legs crossed up on the glass table, laughing with Natasha about something. All of the Avengers, including Steve and his used-to-be-evil friend Bucky Barnes, were gathered there. Bucky looked very uncomfortable surrounded by all the laughter and jokes of the Avengers family, standing by Steve's side awkwardly. Tony was giving Bucky the stink eye, which I only too well understood, because as soon as Kira and I entered the Briefing Room, there was silence.
Kira smiled and slid into her seat next between Evie and Natasha with ease. "Hey, guys," she said happily, and everyone greeted her. Natasha kissed her cheek and, if I listened veeeeery carefully, I just heard a fraction of my heart break.
I stood in the doorframe awkwardly, in my sweatpants and hoodie. Everyone else was wearing their mission uniforms, and this was clearly the first time that they'd seen me in casual clothing.
I didn't like that. It meant I was getting too comfortable here.
Peter gave me a little half-wave. "Hi, Holly!" he said brightly. He gestured for me to sit on the seat next to him, which was thankfully at the other end of the table, away from Natasha and my perfect sisters. Feeling everyone's eyes on me, I walked stiffly to him, sitting down rigidly.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and spun around, my hands drifting instinctively to my belt. It was just Steve, who had always been kind to me, and I relaxed a little.
"Relax, kid," he chided, smiling his easy-going oh-so-patriotic Captain America smile. "It's just us."
I fidgeted awkwardly, still very conscious of everyone looking at me. "Yeah, I know," I snapped. He took his hand off my shoulder. I caught Bucky staring at me and smiled a little. I could relate to used-to-be-evil people.
Bruce coughed at the head of the table. "We are gathered here because, this morning after breakfast, we discovered a message left, charged onto all of our computers in massive block print, as if it was photographed from something a child wrote."
"Is it a death threat?" Clint bobbed up and down on his seat excitedly.
Steve butted in. "No, but it is suspicious. And we are particularly concerned as it has a direct link to somebody at this table... Holly, in fact."
All eyes turned towards me. I reeled back, shocked. "Me?" I demanded. "Why me?"
"We don't know for sure but-"
"Give me the letter." I stood up quickly, making everyone jump. Kira gave me a suspicious stink-eye. I noticed Natasha eyeing me anxiously and blushed.
Steve handed me a piece of paper, and as soon as I read it, I almost fainted.
HIYA LITTLE BIRD-EATER, YOUR TIME HAS COME.
BORN OF THE SAPLING OF THE HOLLY TREE, YOU HAD NO MUM.
DISGRACED AND OUTCASTED, YOU'RE STILL ON THE RUN.
COME ON LITTLE BIRD-EATER, LET'S HAVE SOME FUN!
MEET ME AT THE PLACE YOUR CHILDHOOD IS MADE FROM,
PERHAPS THE SAME PLACE THAT WAS EXPLODED BY A BOMB!
PUT ON AN IRISH ACCENT AND DRINK SOME MEAD AND ALE,
IF NOT, YOU'LL BE FIGHTING TOOTH AND BLOOD AND NAIL.
HOLD MY HAND AND TRUST IN THE LIGHT,
OR YOU'LL BE FOREVER DOOMED TO WALK IN THE NIGHT.
I read it again, growing ever more fearful by the second, but not showing it. This was just a stupid letter... So what if it concerned me? It didn't seem particularly threatening - well, not really. It was just a bit creepy, that was all.
I could handle creepy.
I'd grown up with Doctor Kristoff Agnelsson, for Heaven's sake!
I let out a scoff and cocked my hip to one side. "This is so dumb," I told everyone, not looking Natasha in the eye. "Little Bird-Eater? Holly tree? Irish accent and mead? Ha!" I barked a laugh. "You guys have to be idiots to actually believe this garbage."
"It does get quite sinister at the end," said Wanda softly. "I think this should definitely be investigated."
Everyone else at the table murmured their agreement.
"What?" I spluttered. "This is nonsense! Why would you actually look into such a dumb thing? You won't find anything useful, if that's what you're going at."
Tony put a hand on my shoulder and I shrugged him off, scowling. "Holly. This is a legitimate threat - to you, and to us. Also, it has tons of clues to your, Kira's, and Evie's past, which is still shrouded in mystery, and I feel like you know what it might be about." He looked at me gently.
I recoiled away from him. "N-no!" I stammered. "It's not! It's just garbage!"
That was a lie. I knew exactly what was going on, but I didn't want to talk about it.
Not in front of her.
Clint met my eyes. "I know it might be hard for you to accept it, given your past and all, but-"
"My past? What do you mean, my past?" I spat, folding my arms across my chest.
"We mean Agnelsson, Holly," said Natasha softly.
Memories spun through my head, flashbacks to when I was a child. To when I was chained to tables, forced to have horrible experiments done on me... the cruel look on my foster father's face as he willed for the tests to be done, and not even flinching as I writhed in agony...
Natasha seemed to sense my distress, and her eyes widened. She reached for my hand but I drew it away, my eyes going blurry. "I - I'm fine!" I yelled, recoiling from everybody. I just wanted to be alone! "Just... stop, okay?"
Natasha blinked as though somebody had punched her in the stomach, and, after giving me a long hard stare, moved back into her chair. Kira and Evie both glared at me and I flinched, tugging on a strand of hair awkwardly.
Tony coughed to break the silence. "We're... erm... we're sending together a team to investigate this," he said. "The operatives that are going will be Natasha, Bucky, Steve, Bruce, Kira and Holly. They will be broken into teams of two. We've already decided the pairs, so don't try your luck."
Oh, joy.
Bruce nodded. "I will be with Kira."
Kira reached across and high-fived him. "Epic."
Please not Natasha. Please not Natasha. Please not Natasha.
Steve spoke next. "I'm with Bucky."
Bucky's lips twitched. I mentally screamed inside.
Natasha coughed and said, her voice husky. "And Holly is with me."
Shoot me.