Blind

Kennedy shifted slightly, her eyes warily watching the red-headed woman. Manipulating Steve was easy. Well, easy enough. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Steve believed that there was still some good in most people. She’d played off that.

Natasha was a completely different ball-park. She wasn’t going to be manipulated by tears and melt-downs. Kennedy was treading on very thin ice now. And that only sufficed to put her shot out nerves on edge.

“Agent Coulson is looking for you, Captain,” Natasha said finally, her calculating gaze never leaving Kennedy’s face.

Kennedy didn’t look at Steve as he stepped by her, his arm brushing hers in passing. His tall, muscular form moved in front of her, temporarily blocking her from Natasha’s stare. She didn’t mind that at all since it gave her a second or two to regain some composure. He was out the door then, disappearing down the hallway in search of whoever Natasha had said was looking for him.

And that left Kennedy and Natasha locked together in the small room.

Natasha stood just inside the doorway while Kennedy remained where she had been standing. There was, maybe, three or four feet separating them. Kennedy would have been much happier with five or even ten feet. As it was, she would have to settle with what she had for now.

“I’m just going off a hunch but you’re not part of the ‘get well soon’ committee, are you?” Kennedy said dryly though she continued to watch Natasha warily.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m not,” Natasha replied as she stepped out of the doorway.

“I just love my luck,” Kennedy muttered.

She shifted back a step, hands hanging loosely at her sides. Her eyes never left Natasha’s lithe form as the red-head slowly crept closer. With her broken ribs, Kennedy wouldn’t last long against her. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t attempt to fight if backed into a corner.

“He’s alive,” Kennedy said quickly, “Clint Barton? He’s alive.”

Kennedy didn’t know what possessed her to say that but it drew Natasha up short. The other woman blinked, her blue eyes narrowing for just the briefest moment in confusion. This was something Kennedy could work with.

“And why do you think that means anything to me?” Natasha asked, a hint of wariness in her own tone.

“He mentioned you,” she replied.

And that wasn’t entirely a lie. Kennedy vaguely remembered a conversation she’d had with Barton while he was cleaning bits of glass out of the cuts on her hands. That had happened before she’d passed out. But they’d talked about a few things. One of them had happened to be Natasha.

Of course, Barton hadn’t told her that Natasha worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. though. He’d just told Kennedy a few things about her. She would have had to have been blind and mentally handicapped to not notice that Barton cared about her. But she’d assumed that nothing came of it because of Barton’s line of work.

“And he works for S.H.I.E.LD.,” Kennedy added in. “He’s not a grunt worker either, too talented for that.”

“There’s a plethora of talented agents in S.H.I.E.L.D. We lose men everyday.”

“He’s the reason you had that look on your face on the Quinjet. I thought it was concern for Stark or Rogers. But you were looking dead at me and you wouldn’t be concerned about me. You’re concerned about Barton because you know he was in Germany.”

“If S.H.I.E.L.D. were concerned about Barton, we would have taken him in as well,” Natasha said but the wariness in her tone and eyes was more evident now.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is concerned about Barton,” Kennedy pointed out, “because he’s working for Loki. Loki’s just the bigger threat and he’ll lead you to Barton so they aren’t going knocking on every door. You’re concerned about Barton for your own reasons. Which is probably why you’re here, to see if I knew anything.”

Kennedy was going entirely off of speculation for this. And that meant this could go one of two ways. But if she could distract Natasha for just a few minutes, it could go well for Kennedy. She was banking on things going well.

“I hope we aren’t interrupting anything.”

Both Kennedy and Natasha’s attention was drawn to the door of the room. Freyja was standing just inside the doorway, dressed in something very un-Freyja-ish. Alongside her was a tall black man with an eye patch over his eye.

“Knocking before entering must not be in the S.H.I.E.L.D. handbook anymore,” Kennedy muttered as she folded her arms across her chest.

“Miss Cross, it’s nice to see that you’re up and moving about,” the black man said, ignoring her comment.

Kennedy didn’t comment as she shifted her weight to her left foot. Over the man’s shoulder, she could see several guards like the ones that had escorted she and Loki off the Quinjet. Freyja was standing with her arms folded and legs shoulder-width apart while her blue eyes bored into Natasha. If Kennedy wasn’t angry with Freyja, she’d be almost gleeful at the look Freyja was giving the red-headed woman.

Glancing back at the guards outside the door, Kennedy flicked her eyes up to the black man’s face. He was staring at her, completely ignoring the dog-eyeing between Freyja and Natasha.

“And you caught me as I was just about to take a lovely little cat nap,” Kennedy replied.

“I’m afraid your rest will have to wait. It’s time for you to answer a few questions,” he said, stepping out of the doorway as two guards stepped into the room.

“I don’t get dinner before you waterboard me?” she asked dryly while eyeballing the two guards. “I’m a little offended. And insulted. What kind of person do you think I am?”

The room was beginning to get extremely crowded what with Kennedy, Freyja, Natasha, Fury and the two guards in the room. And she didn’t like crowded. Tonguing the cut on her lip, Kennedy brushed her black hair back from her face before letting the two guards cuff her hands behind her back.

“Also, if it’s not too much of a hassle, I’d like to know your name,” Kennedy said, “just so I know who I may or may not be insulting within the next ten minutes.”

“Gentlemen, if you could please escort our guest to the detention level,” was his response.

Kennedy rolled her eyes before she was led past Natasha and towards the doorway. Her mismatched eyes glanced over at Freyja as she passed her adopted ‘sister’. Freyja glanced at her briefly before quickly looking away. Kennedy looked away and avoided the man’s gaze as she was led past him.

“It’s Nick Fury, Miss Cross,” he called as she was led down the hall.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Freyja left soon after Kennedy did, though she didn’t go in the same direction. Freyja returned to the bridge of the helicarrier, her blue eyes glancing around as she stepped onto the bridge. Coulson was walking and talking to Thor.

She waited on him, her arms folding across her chest as she rested her hip against the railing surrounding the upper level of the bridge. Mindlessly, she picked at the laces of the leather bracers strapped to her forearms. It had been a long time since she’d worn anything resembling armor.

Her gaze lowered to where the blade was still strapped to her hip. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment before pulling it free of it’s sheath. Slowly, Freyja ran her thumb along the blade and over the ornate decoration. It was made to look like a decorative dagger, not like an actual weapon.

The only thing that looked odd about it was the small hinge-like knob on the hilt. She pressed down the center of the knob before quickly adjusting her grip on the blade. A fan comprised entirely of Asgardian metal unfolded from the blade’s edge. She pressed her thumb against one of the sharp pieces of metal sticking off the edge until a red bubble of blood appeared on her thumb.

Bringing her thumb to her mouth, Freyja sucked the droplet off before pressing the knob again. The metal-bladed fan disappeared and Freyja slid the blade back into it’s sheath. Her thumb brushed over the inscription on the hilt before she pulled her hand away.

Loki had given it to her a long time ago. Long ago as in hundreds of years ago, if not a couple thousand years. She hadn’t bothered to keep track of the time that had passed.

Licking her lips, Freyja looked up to see Thor standing with both Coulson and Fury. Though she couldn’t see his face, the set of his shoulders alone told her he wasn’t happy. After a moment, Fury disappeared and Coulson headed back to where Freyja was standing.

Thor turned, his blue eyes almost immediately finding her gaze. Whatever Fury and Coulson had been talking to him about, it had to do with Loki. Thor was clearly torn by his allegiance to his brother and his duty to bring Loki to face justice. She knew how he felt.

“Miss Cross,” Coulson said as he reached the bridge.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, turning to look at him.

“A few…issues came up when we searched for information on your sister,” Coulson replied, gesturing for her to follow.

Freyja’s brow furrowed in confusion as she followed him. “What kind of issues?”

“Well,” he paused, “there doesn’t seem to be any information on her.”

“There has to be information on her,” she replied, still confused. “Birth certificate, high school graduation, taxes, dental records, hospital records, anything and everything else, and there’s nothing on her?”

“According to our searches, which our extremely thorough, your sister doesn’t even exist,” Coulson said.

Freyja followed him inside his office, still unbelieving that this was true. There was no way that information on Kennedy didn’t exist. There had to be a hospital record somewhere because she could clearly remember when Kennedy had her appendix removed. And now there was nothing?

“That doesn’t make sense,” Freyja frowned. “What about me?”

“Information on you exists. Every piece of information that should exist about you exists.”

“Could she have deleted files about herself?” Freyja asked.

“It’s possible. But it would take someone extremely talented with computers and hacking to do so.”

Freyja just shook her head, “I don’t know if Kennedy can hack computers. Is there anyone that you can think of that could have it done?”

“It’s quite possible that Loki had any information on her erased, in case she did come up on our radars. Among Agent Barton and Erik Selvig, he also took another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent at the facility in New Mexico. He probably has dozens of workers under his control now.”

“There’s not much that I can help you with, Coulson,” Freyja replied finally. “I can give you the basics but that’s about it.”

“We’ll be able to build off that, Miss Cross. Loki may have erased her files but he can’t erase the minds of everyone she’s come into contact with.”