and i can try to save you with all that i got

but i guess you can't save someone who was already lost

SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES

2017

When the Sargent had told Stacy to take Jake with her for the stakeout, the woman at first had been joyful but she had then proceeded to form a scornful expression when realization crept in that they wouldn't really be able to get any work done.

Being married to Jake was wonderful— so good that most of the time she doubted if it was even happening to her. The Peralta man was a sweetheart... a very idiotic, handsome yet still funny sweetheart. But being married to Jake made it harder to concentrate on her job.

"Are you going to drink that?" A familiar voice brought Stacy back to real world. Rosa Diaz looked at the blonde expectedly, her eyes taped to the untouched cup of coffee kept in front of Stacy.

"I— Um— No," she finally answered, handing over the bitter-sweet taste of glorious paradise. She knew she wouldn't be able to enjoy it now that she was distracted by the thoughts that made her wonder different scenarios in her head over how spending six hours in a car with her husband would end.

"Whatcha' thinking about?" Rosa questioned, slightly interested.

Rosa Diaz, a certified badass really admired Stacy Kenner-Peralta... a badass in her own right.

Stacy sighed, "I have a lead for a case and guess who's with me as my partner?"

Rosa scrunched her face, "Scully?"

The blonde woman laughed, "Luckily no... It's Jake."

The Diaz woman stilled looked at her friend with a confused face, her eyes clearly asking the question 'why' before her mouth did.

"I love Jake... I really do but he has a knack of always keeping me out of danger. Like he will probably lock me up in the car if this stake-out goes out of hand!"

Rosa raised her eyebrow, "You do know how adorable that is, right?"

Stacy sighed again but this time there was a hint of a tiny smile on her face, "I do but I— I really hate him treating me like this fragile thing. I don't mind him eating my dinner but he got to stop taking my bullets."

"Oh, Stace," The raven-haired beauty laughed, "You can win against him in a fight and he just does it because he cares about you. Don't worry about it! For all you know, you both can end up having some much needed time between yourselves."

"You are right..." Stacy nodded.

"Of course I am," Rosa declared before looking at the girl, all-serious, "Just no funny business in the car."

"Rosa!"

Anastasia had woken up in a bed. It was not a comfortable bed, to say the least— very much unlike the other one she had at home which was soft and very much interchangeable with a trampoline.

She sat up and suddenly realization struck in that one of her hands was handcuffed to the metal beam of the bed. Looking around, Anastasia saw that she was in a room with no windows and with a lot of other girls, all in the same situation she was in. Some seemed to be older and some younger than she was.

Her eyes frantically searched for either for her sisters with no success.

The door Anastasia had only just now noticed banged open with a loud thud as a woman walked in.

Looking back, Anastasia would always remember she never seemed smile.

She looked them all over and told them her name was Madame B.

She told them there were twenty-nine of them.

She told them they were the most fitted of the other girls their age.

She told them that they were all to follow the rules.

She told them that if they didn't, they would have to pay the consequences.

She told them to never try to escape, because they won't be able to.

She told them that the red room was their home now.

"Did you know that before the eraser, bread was used to remove pencil marks?" Jake said as he snarfed his way down yet another hamburger.

"Jake we really need to pay atten—" Stacy stopped and looked at her husband incredulously. "Wait, really?

Jake nodded, "Yup and male bees die after having sex."

The blonde woman blinked, "Why do you know these random things all of a sudden."

The Peralta man shrugged, "I read them in a book."

The wife, who was, though very familiar with this man's strange quirks and all, couldn't— for the life of her, figure out the reason her husband was saying such things, "Okay... but why?"

"Just like that."

Stacy nodded, not knowing what else to make of it. She was soon just about to get into a much more serious conversation when  he sound of an  explosion from the nearby building shook the car and her thoughts. They were out here to catch a drug-deal they have been after from the past month and apparently, something was very wrong.

"Are you okay?" she asked Jake and when she turned, her husband looked just as baffled as her. In a hurry, she took her gun of the holster as Jake did the same. Perhaps it was her gut instinct or maybe her years of the 'Black Widow' training that Stacy just knew that whatever this was; it was much bigger than she thought.

"Yeah," Jake huffed, "Are you?"

"Yeah."

Stacy did the most logical thing that came into her mind; reaching out for the door so she could find the source of the explosion. Unfortunately, Jake had already locked the car and was looking at her with a vulnerable kind of expectancy.

"We don't have time for this Jake, " she gritted, "Open the door, right now."

It was not a secret that Jake was sometimes truly scared of his wife but this time, he stood his ground.

"No, it is dangerous out there, Stacy," the other detective answered, "Let me call the captain and get back up. It's dangerous out there if we go out alone.'

"I am not asking you to come with me," the woman answered, losing her grip on her patience, "Let me go; there are people that need our help."

Another explosion, near the streets.

"It is dangerous," Jake repeated.

"Look Jake, I am going to do it no matter what you say," she went forward to just brush her lips against his for a moment, "Come with me, or let me go."

That when Stacy heard the click of the car door indicating that it was no longer locked. 

"I would follow you to Tartarus, Mrs. Kenner-Peralta," he smiled slightly at her; the same smile he had on his face when he told her he was in love with her.

"Awe," Stacy made an awed expression, "You really need to stop reading Percy Jackson."

Jake and Stacy ran towards the sound of the explosion. Now, Stacy had watched a lot horror movies in her life— she should really know that running towards the strange noise would only end in something going terribly wrong.

When they reached the streets, people around them were shrieking with fear, screaming for their loved ones. Parents were reaching out to their crying children to pull them back out of the two burning stores that seemed destroyed by the two bombings. Stacy had no idea what was happening— none at all, until she finally saw eye-to-eye with the figure that came towards her.

The figure moved towards her and there was something in the way it walked that Stacy felt like she knew. The grace in her steps. The frightening way she didn't seem bothered by all the ruckus around her. As people moved away to give the person space to pass through without hurting them, Stacy recognized something she usually just saw when she looked into the mirror or watched the latest Avengers news.

It was the way Black Widows were taught to walk.

"Get out of here!" Stacy screamed at the crowd, "Go somewhere safe."

She could only hope Jake would also take the clue but nevertheless, the loyal husband stayed.

"Stacy, do you know who that is?" he rushed out his words as his hands guided confused people out of street.

The blonde woman turned to face Jake, "I love you, okay but right now I need you to trust me—"

"What are you talking about—"

"—Let me finish, Jake. I love you but you need to go get these people safe. I will be okay. Just trust me, please."

Perhaps it was the way she said please that really shook him off his 'over-protective husband' game. He nodded, "I— Okay. Just come back to me safe and sound."

The figure was still coming towards them.

"I promise I will."

"Also," He said, turning to face her one last time, "'Let me finish, Jake'— title of your sex tape."

By the time Stacy understood his poor attempt to lighten up the mood, he was gone with the civilians' right behind him.

The sirens rang in her ears as she raised her gun and shot it directly at the figure. An uncontrollable fear came upon her then— her past life caught up with her. Anastasia Kuznetsov was once again alive.

Before the bullets Stacy shot could do the job, the figure had protected themselves with their shield. The bullets didn't faze the figure as they kept making their way slowly towards her. As Stacy tried to hit the head of the figure with the back of her gun, the figure had thrown their shield at her which ended up getting stuck on the wall nearby.

"You really don't want to fight me."

She wrapped her legs around the person to bring them down but they seemed to have the same idea as they both ended up tumbling down the now empty street. This was clearly something related to the Black Widow Program— something the girl was once sure was destroyed for good. Now she didn't know what was real and what was not.

Stacy got up and managed to get herself ready to fight again but the figure, instead of striking, started to move towards her car after grabbing her shield back.

Stacy ran after them, barely managing to push them out of her way as soon as they opened the boot. The boot in which there now seemed to be a small grey briefcase. Pushing the shield into the person's chest— just the right amount of strength to send them tumbling back and falling, Stacy grabbed the contents of the briefcase without questioning what it was. She ran towards the door of her car when she noted that someone —other than this mysterious attacker— was watching her.

Her eyes met Jake's as they looked at her in bewilderment, awe and even a little bit hurt.

"Get in the car, Jake," she yelled as ran towards her, occasionally turning to look at the figure who was still on the ground. "Now."

There were pieces of broken glass from the bombed shops that stuck to her skin but the woman put all of her will power to just drive away.

Jake was near the car with her.

The figure knew who Jake was now.

She needed get Jake safe. 

Meanwhile, as these thoughts created a mess of the ex-assassins' brain, the fore-mentioned husband took in all of his wife's injuries. He thought he knew her the best but for all that he had seen just now, he didn't know Stacy at all.

"You need to tell me what's going on, Stace—"

She ignored him, rushing her car off until she finally found a spot that seemed safe enough. Jake seemed unharmed so far, not a scar on his face. Taking a deep breath, the woman took out the contents of the briefcase from under her shirt, a bunch of red glowing capsules. 

"Holy Shit— What is that?"

"I don't know," Stacy murmured.

The blonde woman stared at them in confusion but time seemed to have slowed down when she turned the contents to find a paper— a long strip of photos hanging from the side.

Not just any kind of photos.

They were photos of her and her sisters from that beautiful time in Ohio when the grass was green and the sky was still blue. These were photos of Anastasia, Natalia and Yelena in their childhood as they made funny faces to the camera.

"What is that Stacy? You need to explain everything to me right now because incase you haven't noticed— I AM FREAKING OUT!"

She knew exactly who had sent this.

She turned to her worried husband, a sorrowful expression on her face. "There are a lot of things I have been hiding from you— a lot about my past and now it's all catching up to me. But before I tell you what happened, what do you say about a trip to Budapest?"