"HOW DID YOU GET HEALED SO QUICKLY?"

Terran turned to find Milo staring at him with an incredulous expression, looking as if he had just been to Terran's funeral, only to find him up and about, which was generally out of proportion to what had actually happened.

"I could tell you, but I don't really want to," he said, because while he was a generally nice person, sometimes he had to be mean to be able to get people to leave him be.

It was a day after he had been admitted out, the S.H.I.E.L.D. medics staring in wonder when they saw him without any of his wraps, just the post-recovery scars that littered his skin and x-rays, letting him go, too shocked to speak, right into the arms of a sleep-deprived Clint and suspicious Natasha.

"I woke up to three people hovering over me, one being your platonic partner who demanded to know what happened, and it wasn't until they left that I realized I didn't need my bandages anymore," she said, motioning to her legs and arms which were free from any and all marks, and he tried not to smile at how, for someone her size, her legs were rather long.

"That's interesting," was all he had said on the matter, and they made their way home where he slept the rest of the day away, trying not to get too homesick now that he had gotten a taste of home again.

But it was a day later and they had been called in by Fury who was most likely going to yell at them for what had happened; whether it was because he was worried or because they lost key pieces of evidence, they weren't so sure.

Nevertheless, the two made their way to their debriefing room, Terran having wrangled her into a conversation about the people they had passed by on the way out of the complex, the couple having been in the midst of a very heated battle they had chosen to bring the public into, the woman looking close to stabbing him in the heart with her stiletto heel.

"I hope the security cameras didn't catch us, we could count as key witnesses," he said as he opened the door for her, letting her go in first; she could take the heat of Fury's anger, she knew it better than he did.

The two Russians stepped into the room to find Fury standing there, all the information laid out like a buffet, glaring down at it, and Terran wondered how long he had been standing there; he figured that, perhaps, the man had just posed in order to make them feel bad, but he seemed to agitated with the work in front of him to have actually done anything of the sort.

"You two look better than expected," he said, barely looking at them, and Terran clenched his jaw, knowing exactly what he was implying.

"Did we nearly die for nothing or is there something we got from the wreckage and the blankets?" Terran demanded, his tone devoid of any emotion, and Natasha looked up to frown at him, genuinely surprised.

Fury raised an eyebrow but said nothing, instead motioning towards all he had laid out. "Well, all we know is that someone had caught on and knew exactly when you were going to show, which meant that it wasn't set off by anything you did, so no reason to fault you for that."

Terran turned to Natasha, neither of them smiling, but sharing a look of general pride and accomplishment.

"They were smart, all that we could've used was burned up by the time we were able to calm the fire and clear out the people, though the blankets you caught were enough to get traces of DNA, but not enough for a match, especially since it was covered your blood," Fury continued, looking over to Natasha who set her jaw and tensed, clearly upset to having been the one to compromise the mission.

"That's no reason to-" Terran argued, but Fury held up a hand.

"I didn't say it was either of your faults. Romanoff, you did good," Fury said, but Natasha didn't seem appeased, simply placing a not-too-soft nudge at Terran's ankle; not enough to hurt, and she knew it, but enough to make a point.

"So do we think there's more of them?" Terran asked, and Fury motioned towards the board, shrugging.

"There might just be a few, or it could just be that the few that you didn't see on the first run had followed you back, we're still figuring that out..." he trailed off, sharing a look with Natasha, and Terran wondered just how many secrets S.H.I.E.L.D. truly had.

"But what we do know is that there's another location," Fury said, shaking his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, "And we can't risk letting them see you two again, because they're going to want to be careful, so I'm sending out Milo."

"We're using a lot of people for a mission that's supposed to be on the down low," Terran pointed out, startled by the heat of Fury's glare.

"Whatever you're implying, Sweets, it doesn't pertain to him, I've known his family longer than you've known your last name, I practically raised that boy and his brother," Fury said, his teeth clenched, and Terran raised his hands in a placating motion.

"Okay, geez, I wasn't trying to say anything, I like him, he's cool," he said, looking towards Natasha who was looking at something, turned in a way so he couldn't see, "I'm just curious about whether you've vetted everyone properly. Not because I doubt your abilities, but because we have to be wary."

Fury cracked his neck, sighing softly. "Future reference, Sweets, I don't give a shit if you question me as long as you have your reasons, and you have your reasons, so just cut to the chase, we don't have a lot of time. While I try to vet everything, you and Romanoff need to go check out a lead."

"Wait, I'm not vetting?" she asked, and her facade slipped for just a moment, enough to show Terran just how surprised she was at this turn of events.

"Romanoff, we need to keep this as quiet as possible, and as quiet as you are, you're high in rank and if word gets out to the ones we've let on this case that we're vetting again, if there is a mole, we could lose them," he said, and Terran was surprised by the tone he used.

It wasn't as if he was a boss, he was speaking like a person. Like a father or an uncle comforting a child to let them know that, whatever happened, it wasn't their fault, and it was sweet enough to be painful, especially considering the circumstances.

Natasha scoffed softly, shaking her head. "In case you forgot, Director, I'm not Rivendell, Schwartz, or Oberholt. I don't need to be coddled."

Fury shrugged, standing up straight from where he had been leaned forward against the table, raising his hands. "It doesn't hurt."

She scowled, looking up at the two men, her arms crossed over her chest. "So where are we going?"

º º º

"Yeah, I expected...I didn't know what I expected, but it wasn't this."

The two made their way into the elementary school which had been cleared out for the day, sectioned off by security tape, the two wearing sunglasses, Terran in Clint's suit that he only wore when they had to blend in, Natasha dressed in a pantsuit.

"Why would someone wanna attack a bunch of kids?" Terran asked, feeling sick at the thought of someone coming in and hurting his students, or any children for that matter.

"It wasn't the kids, it was a few of their teachers," she explained, the two making their way down the hallways, and Terran felt sick when he caught sight of the blood still splattered on the desks of the third grade classroom.

"One of the security guards had been hurt first, which gave the kids enough time to get out. None of them were hurt and none of them saw anything," Natasha said, and she didn't have to, but she knew that it would kill Terran inside if the facts were any different.

"But the teacher?" he asked hoarsely.

Natasha sighed, pulling out the tablet to read off the notes. "He wasn't always an elementary school teacher. He used to be a college professor, but budget cuts, so then he started working here.

"He was some kind of genius when it came to dissecting governments and the rises and falls of power, he was known to have come up with the secret for sustaining a utopia depending on the government in place.

"However, he didn't believe that utopia was truly achievable, neither did the initial creator of the word and concept itself, but I doubt that our people got that far in their research."

"Doesn't matter what he believed, just mattered what they could do for him," Terran said, feeling himself grow sick, taking deep breaths as he tried not to cry for reasons his brain could only know, "Is he dead?"

Natasha read over the notes, herself not affected, but knowing fully well that Terran would be. "Yes. You don't want to know the rest."

Terran shuddered, shaking his head. "They didn't use a weapon, did they? Let me just assume that bones were broken and bodily pieces were ripped?"

Natasha nodded. "Same with the tech guy, he was the one who got this one his job, he was laid off first, but he was also an expert in his field. Or, at least, his friend was, but that friend was taken into protective custody, but he wasn't so lucky."

"If he was a tech guy, I'm assuming they probably wanted to use him, not kill him," Terran said, the two stepping out of the room, and Natasha nodded, not moving down the hall, "Are we not going?"

"You need to prepare yourself, because the scene's a lot messier there," Natasha said, and he simply rolled his eyes and stalked down the hall.

"Sweets," Natasha called after him, jogging to keep up with him, which only caused him to run, for which she had to sprint, "Sweets!"

He followed the trail of tape over to the blocked off area with the closed door, taking a deep breath and opening it, just as Natasha cried out.

"Terran!"

He gagged at the sight, knees buckling at the smell of death and the sight of the Wolf Spider symbol sprayed on every available surface, red, indistinguishable from the blood that pooled in every crevice and splattered against every wall and desk and electronic appliance and blueprint. This seemed more like a personal workspace than a regular area for a simple IT worker, but fact of the matter was that things were clearly swiped, blood was clearly spilt, and a message was clearly sent.

"Terran," Natasha said, reaching out and tugging at his arm, but he remained in place, "Terran, look, it's clear that things were taken, that's it, we can go, we just needed to see if anything was stolen."

"Lives were stolen, Romanoff, forget the plans and the bucket of parts," he spat, and Natasha paused. He motioned towards the area in the corner under the farthest table which he could see from where he was bent over.

Letting her hand slip away as she walked, Natasha pulled out the buckets, frowning at the sight, making a sound in the back of her throat. "We're going to have to ask what was taken. But all I see are missing blueprints, the bucket, a lot of spray paint and blood."

Terran took a deep breath. He cleared his throat as he made his way around, eyes searching in the darker room for the one thing that he knew would be there; the one thing that wasn't stolen, but placed.

He ignored Natasha's look as he paused in front of the area that had once held the blueprints that were stolen, peering close to the dark wood that would've easily masked what had been placed there so deliberately despite the rage that had occurred just moments before.

He plucked the dead wolf spider from its place, its colors so fitting, blending in with its surroundings, just as he and all the other failed attempts had been taught; as well as the only recorded member of the program, the one who had dreamed for years to be able to murder their trainer, to place the wolf spider by his head once he was finished, who dreamed of the cold irony and symbolism, who lusted for all the power he had been given and possessed for all these years.

"Constantin."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 10.13.18 )

I expected a lot more bonding, but actually since it's the fifteenth chapter it means that something important had to have happened and it seemed that it did, because this spurs on the fact that Constantin is in fact back, and they have more idea of what they're in search for.

Wow. plot.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!