WHEN TERRAN WOKE UP, HE WAS IN WASHINGTON, D.C. He had briefly asked Fury why they weren't just going to the headquarters in New York, but the easy reply was, "Because that's not where we're going," and it was left at that. Terran knew when he was supposed to be quiet, but that didn't mean he had to like it; nor did he have to obey, at least not to the letter.

"-I think your hair is lovely, but I don't get the fixation on the color, people must bother you all the time about it," Terran rambled as they climbed out of the van and walked into Headquarters, the blond barely looking away from where he was chatting with Natasha who, now that they were standing side-by-side was multiple heads shorter than him and was clearly unhappy with having to tilt her head up so much.

It had taken some coaxing, as Natasha clearly wasn't one for idle chit chat, but after a few questions that elicited at least a breath of response from the composed woman, as well as a drawl from Fury demanding for her to satiate the blond because it was painful to hear him struggling, the two began a conversation, albeit one mainly led by Terran, though neither seemed to mind much.

"You won't believe all the 'does the curtain match the drapes' questions I get," she sighed, running a hand through her hair, which, after his questioning, she had revealed was growing out, as she needed to stop being predictable.

"Agent Romanoff," Fury interjected, not turning around from where he was leading them to a debriefing room, "I expected this from Sweets, not from you, now's the time to focus."

Natasha merely raised an eyebrow at the back of his head, knowing he could hear it in her tone. "I thought you wanted me to make him feel comfortable, sir."

Fury snorted then, but covered it up with a cough. "You know better."

"Lighten up, Fury," Terran said, causing Natasha to raise her eyebrows, the blond merely shrugging down at her, "Listen, while I love your company, is Clint here? Will he be here? Can I see him? Please?"

Natasha took a deep breath, allowing herself a smile at that, even a small laugh, and Terran gaped down at her, too shocked to smile, despite his body singing in triumph. "Sir, I'll be the first to point out that having him and Barton together is a recipe for disaster."

"A disaster that saved the world and landed us some sweet connections in Europe," Terran pointed out, "As pseudo-prince consort of Norway, I think I have some standing to demand that I see my not-twin brother."

Fury rolled his one eye at that, still refusing to turn to look at them, only turning when they made their way into the elevator. "You don't look anything alike."

"Maybe not now," Terran said, moving to stand in the middle, glancing down at Natasha who almost refused to raise her head up once more to look at him, "But when we were younger. Spitting image. Someone tried to pay us to make out."

"Did you?" Natasha asked, her tone flat, and he winked, giving her all the answer she needed.

They exited the elevator and made their way to a hallway with translucent walls and doors that Terran assumed were to keep things private, but refrain from making it seem like a prison. There were the interrogation rooms which were much darker and more intense, and he had been sure there were debriefing rooms with glass walls, but it seemed that their mission warranted translucent walls.

"This is off-book," Fury said, the moment the door closed behind them, Natasha taking a seat easily, Terran following her cautiously.

"So we can't discuss this with anyone, no extraction plan, nothing?" Terran interrupted, glancing between the Director and Natasha, "Should I remind everyone that I'm not an agent?"

"Barton will be the only other person who knows, and, if needed, you will have tech to alert him, maybe Rogers," Fury glanced over at Natasha at that, and she shook her head.

"Just keep Barton. What's the cover if Rogers and the others ask, because we can't really hide him," she asked, raising a finger to gesture to Terran's size, the man oblivious to her movements in favor of trying to make himself as small as possible in the chair.

"He and Barton are going on another mission together, there's already files on them, just don't talk about it in excess," Fury replied, giving Terran a pointed look, the blond nodding in understanding, hands folded in his lap.

"So what are we actually doing?" he asked, swiveling his chair slightly, feet still planted firmly in front of him, much to the chagrin of Natasha who had to sit on the edge of her seat to let most of her feet touch the ground.

Fury cleared his throat at that, pulling out a file and pushing it towards them. "That gets returned to me before you leave this room, understand?"

The two nodded solemnly up at him before turning to face the table, leaning over the file, goosebumps prickling on impulse as they read over all that Fury had on Niko Constantin, however little that he had, and that in itself made them all the more uncomfortable.

"We're still tracking him down, you don't go in until later," Fury explained, "What you're doing is helping with reconnaissance, but most of your work is done here."

"What, are we going back to Russia?" Terran asked, "Because I'm sorry, I-I can't agree to that, please-"

"No one's making you go anywhere," Fury interrupted, going so far as to place a hand on Terran's shoulder, "Take a breath, it's gonna be okay. Probably."

Terran struggled to do so, groaning as he pushed out his chair and bent himself in half, head between his knees, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth in slow counts, hands clasped together, nails digging into his skin.

The two watched on, both of their lips pressed into hard lines as they watched the largest of them struggle, knowing better than to try and further the process, simply being there and allowing him the time he needed, however long that may be; it wasn't an easy feat, but they had been instructed by the numerous counselors they had on staff on proper procedure.

Finally, Terran lifted his head and sighed. "If we're not going to Russia, how are we supposed to get anything done?"

Fury didn't answer him, instead choosing to say, "Nine months ago, word got around that Niko Constantin escaped the, for lack of a better word, from a gulag-"

"I thought the Gulag ended way back when," Terran interrupted, crossing his arms, "Is this some top secret prison kinda thing where it's not affiliated with the Gulag, but they've got the same principle of what they used to do, and we're just calling it a gulag instead of the Gulag prison camps, because we're ill-informed Americans?"

Natasha let out a short breath at that, but said nothing, though Terran did turn in his seat to share a smirk, Fury frowning down at the both of them.

"Sounds about right," he relented, continuing before Terran could gloat, "Point is, he's escaped. Word didn't get to us until now, because it wasn't until recently that we actually discovered the prison. But what happened there doesn't matter-"

"Doesn't matter or you won't tell us?" Terran interrupted, and Fury gave him a sharp look.

"Either way, I'm not telling you," he said, "Now listen. Point is, we have reason to believe he's in D.C. and we're trying to figure out what it is he's doing."

"Trying to become a productive member of society?" Terran offered.

"The reason they found out about the prison because everyone inside had been mutilated and left for dead," Natasha deadpanned, and Terran choked.

"Sweets," Fury said, watching as Terran jumped to his feet, bracing an arm on the translucent glass, resting his forehead against it, taking deep breaths again, "Sweets, nothing's going to happen to you-"

"You can't guarantee that, you never do that, don't lie to me!" Terran shouted, and Natasha rose to her feet, placing a hand on his arm.

"Hey," she said, forcing him to look at her, "Look, I'll admit, I'm scared too," he scoffed and she sighed, "I'm serious. I've heard of what Constantin can do, same as you. I've gone through worse, but he's had much more time to be angry, and whatever he's doing, we have to stop him."

"Do we even know what he's doing?" Terran demanded, "Or are we just assuming?"

"That I can't tell you yet," Fury said, "You're going to have to trust us. We have information, more than enough for a solid hunch, that was why we called you. But I can't tell you until recon comes back later tomorrow."

"Great," Terran coughed, moving to sit back down, sighing, "So you brought me in, told me that someone else survived the experiments-the one person I'm terrified of-told me that he's in the same city as me and tortured people, then expect me to be okay with knowing nothing of what he's doing, hoping that he won't find me. Great."

"I've worked off less," Natasha pointed out, and he shook his head.

"No you didn't, there was more, but you worked off a need-to-know basis. I know those kinds of missions, Clint's told me about them. If they trust you on those, I don't know why you need me," he said, turning to Fury at that instance, and the man rolled his singular eye.

"You knew him," he said simply, "Now, are you gonna keep asking questions, or can I bring you to Barton? God knows you're more irritating upset than happy."

Terran broke out into a grin at the prospect of seeing him, jumping to his feet, nearly sending his chair flying into the glass, nodding eagerly. "Can I see him now, where is he?"

Fury motioned to Natasha. "Can you take it from here?"

She nodded, standing up and making her way to the door. "Let's hope he doesn't get himself lost."

º º º

Terran nearly did get himself lost.

Now being able to appreciate the building for what it was, he often was caught up in gawking at the high ceilings and the polished floors, smiling at the agents who spared him a glance, scrambling after Natasha despite his long legs, asking her questions and greeting the people around him.

"You have a training room here?" he asked, after she explained that she was taking him there, since that was most likely where Clint was.

"We have multiple, an entire area. There are also rooms that some agents stay at, though that's not where you'll be staying. I talked it over with Fury, he said it would be better for you to establish yourself around than to hide you away," she explained, the two now walking side by side, Natasha refusing to act like she had to struggle to keep with his long strides.

"You have a safe house here?" he asked, then scoffed to himself, "Stupid question, you probably have, like, five in every state."

"You're staying with Clint and me," she said, just as they stepped into one of the training rooms to find the archer practicing idly, cutting off whatever reaction Terran could have had.

Terran ran over to where the archer was standing, seeing that he did, in fact, have his hearing aids in, though no doubt turned off or at least set incredibly low, but he didn't need to come up with any way to catch his attention, as his movements caught the other blond's eye, and Clint turned with a start, only to shout, dropping his bow and tossing his quiver along with it.

"Treeman!" Clint laughed, bounding over and throwing himself into Terran's hug, trying to wrap his legs around his waist, Terran laughing and carrying him easily.

"I missed you," Terran said, his teeth gritted together in a grin as he squeezed Clint tighter, the other blond laughing as he was set down. Terran pulled away, scrutinizing the other man for a moment.

"You got old," he sighed, reaching out to tap Clint's cheek with a sad smile.

"We can't all have our genetics altered to keep us young, Terran. If we did, your pretty face wouldn't be as special, huh?" Clint said, reaching out and patting his cheek before laughing, turning to find Natasha watching them from her perch by the door with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey, Tasha," Clint called, and Terran watched with wide eyes as Natasha gave him a big smile.

"Should I ask?" she quipped, glancing between the two, and Clint shrugged.

"It's a long story, but now that you're back, we can eat that Mac n' Cheese I bought and we can talk about it, I got the message that we're moving into the safe house again," he called, jogging up the stairs to come stand in front of her, and she nodded, going so far as to let him hug her, even for a brief moment.

Terran scoffed to himself. "And I thought we had something special."

"Hey, Bigfoot," Clint called, leaning against the railing with a smile that used to match his own, "You coming or what, you got your debriefing done, let's eat."

Terran grinned, racing up the stairs to the pair, following them out of the room and into the hallway, immediately striking up conversation with both, reveling at how more willing Natasha was to it, even if she didn't reply, at least she seemed more engaged.

"Sorry you're back in, Tree, I know you don't like this," Clint said, nudging him as they made their way towards the exit.

Terran shrugged, taking a deep breath as he looked around. "I mean...payoff's worth it, right?"

Natasha let out a soft breath at that. "Let's hope so."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 06.09.18 ; )

So for those who don't know, Niko Constantin's canon is that he was in a gulag after the Wolf Spider Program, and while it is now the modern day and gulags were during the Soviet Union (which is why I had to warp with Nat and Terran's ages)

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!