THERE WAS NO TIME TO LOSE. From the moment the two woke up, they were on the move. It was a tense morning, Terran's entire body thrumming as he sped through his usual routine, putting on his clothes and sending a text to Janelle that everything would be okay, same to Nicky, before putting it away; he would just greet them again in person.

He went to the kitchen and ate breakfast with Natasha, neither of them speaking as they ate their eggs and bacon, Natasha standing up and making her way out the moment she finished.

He sighed, following her as they went to her room to suit up with some of her primary weapons, watching as she holstered everything wherever she could, and he only stood there, having nothing to take, but Natasha always felt safer with her personal weapons that she only took on special missions that needed the slight superstition she secretly harbored.

"There's no point in panicking," she said, catching sight of his shaking leg, and he didn't respond, only following her out when she was finished, taking only what he needed and nothing else.

The two rushed out of the apartment building and towards the van, Natasha quietly explaining to him that any and all traces of them exiting and entering the building were always erased as per S.H.I.E.L.D.'s tech crew, and he relaxed, wishing she had told him sooner.

The two hurried along to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, jumping out and tearing into the building, pushing past so many agents that a few started to panic, thinking there was trouble, but all it took was Natasha telling them to mind their own business to get everyone to calm down.

"You're making a scene," Milo said, stopping Terran cold in his tracks, and it was shocking how someone so average could be strong enough to shove him back so hard, especially at the pace Terran was sprinting.

A few moments later found Natasha skidding to a stop next to him, sighing softly, mostly out of exasperation rather than loss of wind. "I told you to just stay calm and keep a level head."

Terran huffed, hating at how average of a speed they were walking, especially since his legs were so long and so much wider in comparison to theirs. But he was able to keep himself in check, so focused that he could hardly pay any mind to the agents who passed him expecting his usual smiles and greetings, their own smiles faltering when they saw the stoic expression he bore, far too busy to pay them any mind.

Years later, he would still regret not looking over and greeting them that final time.

Eventually, the trio made it up to their usual debriefing room where Clint and Fury were waiting with a few people from Milo's team, and Terran was just able to give them the bare minimum of greeting before he fell into his seat, demanding they get to work.

"Take a breath, Sweets, that's an order," Fury commanded, genuinely taken aback by how fierce and serious Terran was being, how unlike himself he was acting.

Terran wanted to argue, but he knew it would be no use, so rather than pointing out that he wasn't one of Fury's minions, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, allowing himself the time until he was sure he was okay before opening his eyes.

When he did, his attention landed on Clint who was looking at him with concern, and Terran didn't like the frown he was sporting, so he tried to smile to get it to change, but that only seemed to make Clint frown all the more, which didn't make him feel any better.

"Where are we on chasing him down, do we have any place to start?" Fury asked, looking towards Milo's team at this point, and Milo himself turned around to address one of his own.

"Levitsky said that he was able to trace the first stop they should go to, we weren't there, you know how he is always working overtime," one of them said, and Milo smiled as he nodded, turning to address the others.

"Levitsky and I were in the same class together and he's incredibly dedicated and good at what he does," Milo explained, cracking his knuckles, "And he was the one to find the note for Terran, so he kinda takes it personally, wants to make sure that you catch this guy and all that."

Terran tried to smile. "Well, cool. So where should we go?"

While he couldn't hear it, there must have been something in his tone that caused Milo to flush, ducking his head and clearing his throat, clearly embarrassed. "Right. I'm sorry, you're usually so easy going, I sometimes forget we're working. You're heading to Maryland, specifics were sent to your phones and tablets, so just follow those. Terran, I have your baton."

He perked up at that, watching as Milo reached under the table and pulled out small, grey metallic case. Unlocking it, he turned it around to reveal a small, black cylindrical grip. He pulled it out and handed it to Terran, the blond taking it and feeling it out.

"It works the same as a baton. Go on, release it," Milo said, standing and crossing his arms to watch, "There's nothing special about it, we figured simplicity was the way to go with you."

Terran nodded, somehow knowing that he'd never need to use it, "Is there anything else that we need to know before we get going?"

Milo nodded, looking around before pointing towards one of his team members, watching as they reached into another briefcase and pulling out two epipens.

At least, that was what Terran thought at first, only to tense and freeze when she approached him with it, taking a step back at the sight, looking towards Natasha who tensed as well, grabbing onto Clint's shoulder, the man holding onto her hand.

"It's okay," the woman said, holding up her hands, "They're just trackers. They can also monitor your vitals, just so we know to step in if something happens to you. Not all of us will be there, but we will bring guns, so..."

Terran swallowed, glancing over to Natasha who was whispering to Fury. When she saw him looking, she nodded, letting him know that it was okay. He sighed, nodding towards the other woman who smiled, prepping him.

"Nicky could make something better," he mumbled idly to himself, remembering how much the boy loved to tinker with things; after all, he had built tech for the military after Terran suggested him to them.

"What was that?" the girl asked, glancing towards his face from where she was standing behind him, forcing him on his knees so she could actually reach him.

"Nothing," he said, glancing over Natasha who seemed pleased at the sight of him closer to the ground, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"One of us needs to be relaxed," she pointed out with that self-satisfied smile of hers and he could only make a face at her, wincing as the tracker was injected into the back of his neck.

"Schwartz does mine," Natasha said, stepping away from the other team member making his way towards her, and Milo gave a pursed lipped smile to his teammate before taking the items from his hands and prepping the back of her neck, moving swiftly, yet precisely.

"Is that all?" Terran asked, rising to his feet and groaning, kicking his legs out to try and loosen them up again.

"If we need to contact you, we know how," Fury said, "And you need to keep us informed about everything. Anything that seems the least bit off, this guy is messing with the universe, nothing is too coincidental."

Terran and Natasha nodded solemnly, looking over towards Clint and Milo who were already setting up their equipment in their room where it seemed like they were going to be camped out as backup until the entire mission was completed.

"Okay," Terran sighed, swinging his hands in front of him and clasping them together, "Let's go."

º º º

It wasn't long for them to reach Maryland, and once they did there was no stopping. It wasn't a fun car ride, however, filled with the empty crooning of music Terran didn't listen to and Natasha trying and failing to seem disinterested in the entire situation.

"You need to relax," Natasha said, reaching out towards him when they found themselves stuck in expected traffic, Terran nearly holding down the horn and climbing out of the car to walk, "Sweets, if you're too tense, you won't be able to do your job and people will suffer. Trust me."

He groaned, sighing as he leaned back in his seat, running a hand over his face. "I just want this done. I don't want to be doing this. I wanna be at the complex with my kids and Janelle and I wanna be with you, but I don't want us to have to be chasing down murderers, I just want...normal."

Natasha sighed as she unbuckled from her seat and swung into his lap, and he had a split second fear that she would kill him, only to relax when she kissed him instead, giving him a sad smile was she played with the side of his hair. "You know better than anyone that you can't have that. Not when you have as many secrets as you have."

He sighed, nodding, because he had been aware of it for years, but that didn't make it better. She continued to give him soft kisses and play with his hair, whispering softly to him, and he knew she was doing it all for his benefit. If it were up to her, she would just tell him to get over it in the kindest voice she could, hold his hand, maybe a hand on his thigh, and let him breathe it out. But that wasn't what he needed at the moment, so she couldn't do what was minimum to appease him, she had to make sure he was fully relaxed, and that meant appealing to his need for close contact.

He was so touchy.

But they made it to Maryland and they were on the move, racing into the abandoned warehouse that had Terran faltering for a split second to just stare at and ponder, because it was just too perfectly movie cliche, but it was the truth, and that just made it all the more sad.

When they made their way inside they found three dead men, three wolf spiders, and one note.

"Clear," Natasha called out, holstering her gun, Terran not even reaching towards his baton, just standing there. Just staring.

He sighed as he made his way over, stepping over the bodies, allowing himself to pause in front of all of them in respect, his gaze always flickering towards the peaceful spiders, finally ending up in front of the note that Natasha was standing in front of.

It wasn't meant for her and she knew he needed to open it first. He needed it.

"At least the traitor isn't a coward. Remember all the games we used to play? Try this one. 39.3322° N, 76.5842° W"

Terran shuddered, passing it over to Natasha who took a picture and sent it to the others back in D.C. When she looked back up at him, her eyebrows were furrowed in clear question and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"When we weren't training, we had these games. They were basically training but so much worse. Because when he trained us, at least he knew he couldn't kill us. With the games it really didn't matter, it was on our own time," he sighed, pressing his palms against his eyes.

"Sweets, we need to go," Natasha said, reaching out to tug on his arms, "We can't waste anymore time, we have to get to this lake."

Terran sighed, looking at the dead bodies, at the carnage, at the spiders. "They had families, you know? The people, not the spiders. You think people know they're missing? You think they gotta say goodbye?"

"Terran," Natasha whispered, reaching out to take his hand, "Terran, we need to go."

"Are people coming?" he asked, his voice so quiet and head bowed, "Are-Is someone gonna come and take them home? Alert their families, do we know who they are?"

"The other agents are going to do that. Terran, we need to go," she said, her voice just as soft, trying to appeal to him, and he sighed, nodding and allowing himself to be tugged away, crumpling the note in his hand.

"Whatever game he's playing, you can't let him win," Natasha said, the two climbing into the car.

Terran set his jaw and he headed back out into the road. "Don't worry. I won't."

º º º

The body was set up like a man asleep on the bench, so they nearly missed him. If Terran hadn't caught sight of the spider resting so delicately on the man's pulled over hood, he would have just assumed the man was homeless and resting.

When he turned him over, his face was ripped off. When they tried to adjust him, they found all his limbs had been ripped clean off and were simply readjusted in his clothes to make it seem as though he were still together and whole. It was so neatly done that it was almost as if he were a doll that was torn at his seems, not a human being mindlessly murdered for the entertainment of a man taunting someone whom he hadn't seen in decades.

"We need to find his face, that's where the next note is going to be," Terran said, and his voice was hollow, empty and lifeless the way he never wanted it to be.

Natasha could only follow Terran around the park as he searched for the man's face, and as much as she didn't want to acknowledge or admit it, she was scared. This wasn't like him at all, and she knew that he had to struggle to show emotion, but this wasn't at all what she was expecting.

"Terran," she called, and it took him a few moments before he seemed to register her words, turning to look at her, his eyes distant and cold, "Are you alright?"

For the longest moment, he didn't say anything. He just stared at her with the same blank expression and cold eyes, and she decided then and there that she never wanted him to look at her that way ever again, because that was the face of a man who feared nothing.

But then it melted away-or possibly over-to reveal the Terran that she knew, his eyes widening and head tilting as he looked on at her with concern. "Yeah, are you okay?"

She nodded, because the last thing she needed was to distract him because of feelings she knew well enough to leave alone. Of course, once he found out that she lied, he would insist that they have a long conversation on communication, but there was a job they had to do, and she would take them having the conversation over not living to have it at all.

So the two continued on their search for his face, separating to cover more ground, though keeping an eye on each other just the same. Terran was more aware, more human, after Natasha had broken him out of whatever trance he had placed himself in to try and survive the entire experience; whatever he had gone through, it was clear that this was hitting far too close to home, and it seemed Constantin knew that better than anyone.

Shaking out of her thoughts, Natasha continued to search, trying to think of where someone would want to hide a face. She had a feeling that Terran knew exactly where it was going to be, the same way that she knew where Clint hid his snacks no matter how new their latest safehouse was, but she wasn't going to stand idly by and let him search on his own.

It didn't take long for Terran to find his face, however, because while Natasha looked down low towards the ground, he looked high up towards the trees. There was always a running conversation the Wolf Spiders had that no one ever looked up when searching, and they always planned on quick escapes to be taken above ground rather than below.

"Good thing you didn't forget. But I bet you forgot how to dance. Better hurry, traitor. 38.764973° N, -77.506969° W"

Natasha came to stand next to him, standing on her tiptoes to read the note, trying not to look at the layer of skin that dangled from the tree branch in Terran's hand, the man holding it as if it were a hanging spiderweb rather than the face of a man.

"How does he do this unnoticed?" Natasha asked, looking around as she took a deep breath, "He's a lot more spread out than expected, do you think he knows how to teleport, like that one woman from your complex."

"He's not teleporting, he's just trailing us along," Terran said, his voice flat, and Natasha shuddered, her body reacting physically to the cold tone he was sporting, but it was clear that he was fighting against his inclination towards that tone.

"Where are we going?" he asked, trying to raise his voice in an effort to make her more comfortable, the same way he liked to make himself smaller so other women would be more comfortable, but considering his voice was so deep, it only sounded all the more wrong.

She checked her phone after sending the coordinates, habitually schooling her features as she handed it over to him, taking a silent breath as she felt her skin prickle, and while she didn't want to look at his face, she knew she had to; she cared about him, she wanted him to be okay.

Terran's expression cracked in a way that she wasn't expecting. In the time she had known him, she had never expected him to be like her, and she certainly never expected him to react the way she did. As much as she hated it, she was human, and she couldn't control everything about herself, and Terran seemed to have everything under control, yet there he was, his blank expression cracking to show a flurry of emotions within his brief slip of any and all control.

It was a shocking sight, seeing a man normally always smiling, now utterly numb, go through shock, fury, resignation, and sorrow in a milliseconds, yet Natasha had witnessed it, seeing him utterly devastated for one moment, only to have her phone pushed back into her hands, the man making his way back towards the dead body in the next.

"Terran," she called, keeping an eye on him as she moved to research their next destination, "Terran, we need to go, they'll take it from here."

"Hold on," he said, his words choked and twisted in his throat as he moved to crouch down next to the still body, "Just-just hold on."

Natasha sighed softly to herself as she watched Terran try to place the man's torn face back, and it didn't work in any respect, but he spent three minutes just trying to make it presentable, to bring the humanity back to the innocent person who had no reason to be dragged into a twisted game centered around Terran and a man he never wanted to see again.

"Who tells the families?" Terran asked, and it took Natasha a moment to realize he was whispering because he was going to cry.

He had told her it took much more than even the strongest man to get him to cry, but it seemed that he was reaching his breaking point, and if she were in his shoes, she would have to admit, she would be in a similar situation; she was stronger than most men, but she wasn't a machine, no matter how much she and the others wished she was, and Terran was the exact same.

"We have people for that," she said, because she didn't know; that was never something she had to consider.

But then Terran was raising his head to look at her from where it was bowed in reverence, and his eyes were shining and utterly broken, and she had to admit she should have considered it, because for all she worked to make sure no civilians were caught in crossfire, she never did check up on the families of the ones who did; it made some sense as to why an assassin was sent to kill them, press conferences didn't always cut it when it came to tragedies.

She really needed to start considering the civilians more than she already did when she went on missions, the last thing she wanted were more casualties.

"I want to go," he said, and his words were choked up and twisted, and she could only nod, reaching down to help him to his feet.

"We need to go," she said, because they had to focus, and if it were anyone else, it would've been harder to force them focus, their humanity too hysterical to keep them in check, but Terran was different; he had to force in the humanity, it was easy for him to pull back.

She wished they weren't as similar as they were, as slim as the similarities were; he deserved better than to be anything like her.

Pushing out her own thoughts, she held onto his hand and tugged him towards the car, glancing up at him every few moments to make sure that he was still somewhat okay, and it seemed that he was, though she couldn't be sure; he stared out in front of him with a blank expression until he saw her look up at him, breaking out of his trance to give her a tense smile.

The two climbed into the car, Terran settling into the front seat with a shaky breath, Natasha looking at him with thinly veiled concern, reaching out to touch his leg, startling back when his leg jerked, only to relax immediately after.

"Sorry," he mumbled, reaching out to touch her hand, only to stop, and she reached out to hold his hand, letting him move it to rest on her leg, anchoring himself.

"Thanks," he said, giving her a grateful smile, and she nodded, hating how disingenuous and pained it looked.

She tried to give him a more genuine smile, though it felt as tense and fake as his looked. "Let's keep going, we're nearly there."

º º º

The Academy of Russian Ballet wasn't anything special. A regular looking dance studio with light pink walls and slightly faded letters spelling out the name along the top, it was easily overlooked, yet radiated a feeling of importance and worth. It demanded respect from all those who looked upon its exterior, beckoning the bravest of souls to traverse its interior, to step inside and seek all the knowledge that resided within its walls.

Terran and Natasha climbed out, but didn't step forward right away, just staring at the building with growing dread, Natasha not bothering to conceal her premature horror, preparing herself for the monstrosities awaiting inside.

Terran himself was staring at the building, his arm resting on the top of the van, one leg bent and resting on the platform, the other on the uneven blacktop, readying to step off and start walking the moment they were ready, though he knew very well that no amount of preparation could ever fully prepare himself for what he was about to witness.

"Children," Natasha whispered, and Terran sighed softly, because he knew, he had known, but that didn't mean he wanted to hear it to begin with.

Taking a deep breath, the two made their way over towards the building, starting off slow before eventually breaking into a hurried job, Terran holding the door open for Natasha who was right at his heels, the woman walking right under his arm, the two rushing to find the room where the next note was.

"This is bad," Terran said, and it seemed that his emotional detachment had given way to intense feeling, and it made sense in some strange way, what with his need to protect himself, if he didn't push down his feelings, he could feel them and be done with them faster.

"They're all empty," Natasha said, walking towards the board right by the door, scanning over the schedule, "It's supposed to be filled today. We're right in the middle of a few levels of classes."

Terran's stomach plummeted, and he was sure he was going to be sick, stumbling backwards and nearly falling over, Natasha catching him and righting him again. He held onto her arm, unable to control his grip as he took a deep breath, bending over his knees and steadying himself.

"We need to go," she said, looking towards the room at the end of the hall, with a two-way mirror that looked into a supposedly empty room, "Terran, we need to go right now."

Glancing up, he nodded, righting himself slowly so he didn't wind up growing all the more unsteady, following after her as she started to run towards the room, pulling out her gun and searching for the door as she came to stand in front of the window.

Natasha was always good at concealing her emotions and reactions, but Terran could see the way she tensed, a full body shudder overtaking her as she stared into the room that clearly wasn't all that could be seen from the end of the hall at her height.

But because Terran was so long, he didn't need to get right to the glass to see the horrors inside.

There were thirty girls inside, all laid out in a circle, alternating between tall girls and short girls, and Terran noticed a moment later that there were four boys evenly spaced out between them, as if they were the points on a compass. In the center, Terran could see the tiny spider resting on top of the note.

"Terran, the words," Natasha said, motioning towards the side walls as she made her way towards the door, and he moved towards the glass, peering to the side, only to see the words written in blood.

"THEY COULDN'T HANDLE OUR GAME, TRAITOR. AT LEAST YOU DIDN'T LOSE THIS TIME."

It was no secret to the Wolf Spiders that the Red Room used ballet to break their trainees, and it only made sense that they were forced to continue the curriculum at their institution as well. Of course, it was short lived, but Terran still found himself standing in first position on the regular, as well as wincing whenever he had to see ballet on the TV or on stage.

He could still remember their lessons, and they weren't given them the whole time, but when they did have to, the boys liked to play a game in which they tried to get the others to injure themselves to the point of being unable to get back into position, thus resulting in them being punished.

It was cruel and unusual and Terran could still remember his desperate attempts at playing the game for survival, crying himself to sleep in his cot on the days that he lost, until tears were hard to procure and feelings were only theoretical, and by the time the entire program was finished, he wasn't crying at all.

He couldn't feel anything at all. It wasn't the same as his habitual lack of feeling residing in his chest, the kind that he had been taught that lived alongside the constant feeling and emotion that stemmed from his mind, but the numb feeling that resulted from an overwhelming feeling of emotions that, if fully felt, would have killed him.

His mind was the only reason he felt the emotions that he did, but he was eternally grateful for its ability to keep him from feeling anything when needed.

"Here," Natasha said, coming to stand next to him, holding the note out towards him, her back also turned towards the circle of children, "I checked to make sure none were still alive. But I didn't move them, I don't know what he did. I don't know where the blood came from, there didn't seem to be any on the ground around them."

Terran set his jaw, taking a deep breath, holding the note in his hand. "I don't want to hear what he did." He wanted to know more than anything else.

Natasha knew that as well, not saying anything as she looked up towards him, waiting for him to read the note, but she found that the two had to stand there for some time, Terran just staring at the white wall across from him.

Finally, "Terran, you need to read the note."

"Did you already read it?" he asked, his voice throaty and lower than usual.

She nodded silently, not trusting herself to speak, and he sighed softly, taking a deep breath, his shoulders raising, and he allowed himself to roll his shoulders, then roll his head, before lowering his head and raising his hand, the two meeting in the middle as he began to read.

"I'm bored of this game now, and this one tired me out. Time to end this. 38.920766° N, -76.971193° W"

"Are they coming?" Terran asked, glancing towards Natasha who had already texted the coordinates of their current location, and its status, and the coordinates to the next location to Milo's team.

"They're nearly here," she said, raising her eyebrows when she caught sight of the next location, "And it looks like this really is the end."

Terran took a deep breath before looking over his shoulder at the circle of children who didn't deserve to be attacked at a place where they had to do nothing but follow the rules and be passionate about what they were trained to do. Disciplined, they didn't need to fear for their lives, to be broken for no other reason than the amusement of a twisted man who had been in their shoes many years before.

"Then let's go."

º º º

"The abandoned warehouse seems a little too on the nose. I mean, we've already dealt with one once, but this place for the showdown just seems...wrong," Terran said, and under any other circumstance, this would have been standard for him, but with the way he was straining to make the conversation in the first place, it just felt wrong, more wrong than the entire situation itself.

"In a way, it feels perfect," she countered, because if this was going to be the last time they went in together, she was going to humor him, even if he wasn't fully invested in it.

Terran sighed, turning towards her, catching her eye, and he took a moment to let everything settle in. He had a family to get back to, and he wanted to be around her more, and he wasn't going to die here, no matter how hopeless the situation seemed.

"I just want you to know," he said softly, "That if something happens to me, you need to get out and I want you to just...tell them what happened. Get the entire complex together, I don't want them to think I abandoned them, I did this for them, and I didn't want to make their lives harder, but I guess this time I did."

"Tell them yourself," she said, reaching for the door handle, only for him to catch her wrist.

"Promise me," he said, and she didn't even flinch as he held onto her, holding his gaze, "Promise me, don't die for this, it's not even your fight. Promise."

She tilted her head, giving him an exasperated look. "You can't blame yourself for every problem that happens. You didn't ruin anyone's life in your complex, and you didn't ruin mine. Now let's go so you can get home and hug your family."

With that, she was climbing out of the car with all the power of a woman with an entire arsenal and a lifetime of training to keep her safe: unstoppable. Terran actually forgot himself for a moment, unable to do anything but stare at her, deciding then and there that he wasn't going to die until they went on an official date.

Then he remembered that they had a job to do and he rushed out of the van, locking it and checking to make sure that his police baton was still on him. For all that he didn't want to us it, he felt much safer knowing that it was there.

He took a deep breath, pausing in front of the clearly unlocked door, glancing towards Natasha who grabbed her nearest gun, readying it in front of her. The two took a breath and nodded, Terran surging forward and shoving open the door, holding it open for Natasha who rushed underneath his arm, immediately checking the room, only to stop in her tracks.

Terran stepped inside as well, scanning around, finding no one around them, the rest of the warehouse utterly empty, save for the man sitting with his back turned to them, a chair in the middle of the room.

He reached out to touch Natasha's arm, and she didn't move from where she was standing, her gun out in front of her, ready to shoot at any given moment. He turned his attention to her for a moment, his hand brushing over one of her many other guns, his eyebrows raising as he mulled over the decision for a moment.

The man on the chair was far too focused on himself to listen too intently to the goings on of the people behind him, but he couldn't help but smirk at the knowledge that he had strung along a man he was sure to be dead; it should have stayed that way.

Terran and Natasha looked up at the sound of him rising, Natasha immediately readying herself, her hand steady as she pointed the barrel towards the man's chest, Terran standing sharply next to her, his stance sturdy and tall.

The man smiled a yellow, gnarled smile, eyes filled with a glee that no human should ever have to experience, giving them with an infuriatingly flippant look, as if their presence was that of old friends. In Terran's case, that could be applicable, if the term 'friend' was used as loosely as possible.

The last time Terran had seen him, he was young. He looked young as well, and considering how old Terran truly was, it was clear that while the serum they were given gave them a slowed aging rate it had worn off for him. Terran was still capable of having his old abilities given by the serum, but whatever happened to the older man, it hadn't been kind. He looked decades older than he was supposed to be, but Terran didn't doubt he was any less powerful than he had been when they first met.

"She can leave," Constantin said, pointing towards Natasha before waving towards the door.

Neither of them spoke, too tense, too afraid, but Natasha did adjust her grip on her gun, holding it even tighter than she already had been, and Terran could see her trembling ever so finely, hardly a tremble at all, but it was enough for him to notice, which meant that Constantin saw it as well.

"Go," he said, and he was still smiling, but it wasn't kind-it never had been-and he turned his attention back to Terran, "We just want to chat. Catch up, it's been a while."

Terran stared at him for the longest time, his jaw tensing as the man just smiled at him. Finally, he reached out and tapped Natasha's arm, the woman not moving for a few moments before lowering her arms, eyes never leaving Constantin as she made her way out the door, leaving Terran painfully alone.

Constantin took a step forward and Terran immediately pulled out his police baton, expanding it, and Constantin immediately burst into laughter, the sound reverberating throughout the empty building, shaking Terran to the very core.

"A stick?" the man barked, grinning madly at him, "Did you really forget everything, Matvey? You don't even use your own name anymore."

"You don't know anything," Terran spat, and he was grateful for his even tone, but he was shaking all over.

"It's been years," the man continued conversationally, and Terran found himself fixated on the salt and pepper of the man's hair, taking in just how much older he looked, "And here I thought you were dead. I remember when I was first made aware of you, you were following me. I couldn't believe it, because the rest of us had died. But you lived. And you abandoned yourself."

"I didn't abandon myself, I found myself, what were you doing?" Terran demanded, and he was shaking harder than anything, but he was still holding onto the baton, and he couldn't see a gun on Constantin, so he kept the shield retracted.

"What was I doing," the man chuckled to himself, and Terran was overcome with a feeling of dread, "What was I doing, he says, what was I-I was dying!" he roared, and Terran jumped, startled harder than ever before, his bones turning to dust as the man continued to scream.

"I lived decades in a labor camp, my body killing itself," he spat, and Terran shuddered, "I suffered for decades alone, no one knew I existed, no one knew, and all this time, I believed I was the only one left. You turned your back on me."

"We were never a team, you tried to kill me!" Terran cried, and this was why he didn't want to take the mission, because so many memories were brought back to the surface and he remembered the knife being pressed against his neck and his bones being broken over and over and over again.

"I made you strong!" Constantin cried, and in that moment he looked like a child, terrified and pained, and Terran knew why.

He knew that he had suffered, he knew that their trainer had been hardest on Constantin, the oldest, he knew that the Winter Soldier was a kind of devil no one ever wanted to cross, and he knew that it destroyed him, he knew.

But that didn't excuse the fact that he had shoved a gun into Terran's hand and forced him to train outside of class, to kill anything that they could get their hands on, including the prisoners that were held for classes only, the rabbits in the snow just outside the gates, and one of the dying students that were meant to be disposed of.

Yes, he had made Terran strong by Wolf Spider standards. He had taught him how to survive, taught him how to kill in ways that the Winter Soldier hadn't even taught to teach them, which was not at all an easy feat. But that wasn't the strength he wanted, strength he never wanted.

Constantin had been broken, so he decided to break Terran as well.

"Why me?" he breathed, because he needed to know. He needed to ask what he was doing, but before he did, he needed to know why he was singled out; the terrified, broken child within him needed to know.

Constantin shrugged, training him with an uncaring smile. "We were roommates."

Terran didn't know what he would have felt if he was able to feel more easily. Maybe he wouldn't have felt at all. But he didn't feel anything now, because no matter what he believed, he would never truly get closure. Not until this man was dead.

"What did you think you were going to do?" he demanded, because there was nothing else to ask, nothing else that mattered anymore, "What were you thinking? That you were going to gather up enough communists to overthrow the world's powerhouses?"

Constantin just laughed, shaking his head as he started to walk around his chair, and Terran hated how terrified it made him, how unsure he was of whether or not he was going to make it out of this alive.

"The world needs to change," Constantin said, "We have forgotten the way things should be, we're humans yet we have forgotten the human condition."

As strange as it was to say, Terran groaned. Because in that moment, he remembered all the sermons that Constantin would give with the other trainees in their room, standing on his bed and proclaiming about the importance of remembering humanity, not for them to be merciful, but to uphold the natural order, of how the elite need to rise to bring about complete and utter harmony, of how they all needed to remember that a select few were meant to keep the world in line.

When he was young, he had listened, unsure of what to think, only knowing that he had better remember all he said. Now, he could only roll his eyes, because some things never changed, and as powerful as Constantin was, he, too, was only a man.

"You're not a god," Terran called, stepping towards him, his entire body unprotected, "Whatever you're trying, not only does it not work, but even if it did, you're not the one whose meant to fix the world."

He shouldn't have stepped forward. His movement had broken some kind of barrier, and before he could even blink, Constantin was on him, moving faster than expected for a man who looked his age, finding himself held down, arms at his sides and throat pinned by an arm, and what infuriated him the most was that Constantin didn't even bother to secure his arms, because he knew that Terran was too scared to fight back.

"No one is mandated to fix the world. It is up to those who know that it needs saving," Constantin whispered, his breath hot against Terran's face, "That's the problem with humanity. We have grown too arrogant. I don't believe that I'm a god, that is the mindset of the rest of them. But you and I, and the rest of us, we know the truth. We are only human."

Constantin pressed harder on Terran's throat, cutting off his circulation and letting him only grasp for breath, the edges blurring and going dark as he struggled to stay conscious, his heart beating out of his chest, body panicking and nearly shutting down, if not for the lessons that he had been given during his time with the Wolf Spiders, given both by the Winter Soldier and Constantin himself.

"I thought you were aware," Constantin hummed, "But you abandoned the truth in favor of a pitiful life. A building to yourself, a family. A family, you. You with a family, while I was left alone. Your precious children, you know them all by name, yet they know nothing about you. Life is fleeting, and yet you chose to grow attached, as if I had taught you nothing."

"You did teach me nothing," Terran was just barely able to muster, his voice strained as Constantin growled, pressing down even harder.

"But I did," he whispered, his face so close that Terran could spit if he weren't so afraid, "I taught you everything you know. I made you. And you abandoned me, abandoned all that we stood for. Abandoned everything for people who will forget you, who will never even be remembered. No one will remember them, and no one will ever remember you. All because you remembered me."

Constantin smiled as wide as he could, eyes filled with the kind of manic glee that no person should ever have to see, before reaching out to stroke Terran's hair like a caring father, disgusting as it was to say, lips melting into a sympathetic, mocking smile as he started to press down all the way.

"To suffer and die, that is the human condition."

A loud bang and a gasp filled the empty warehouse, reverberating into teeth and bone and tooth and nail and the very fabric of the building itself, incredibly loud, yet utterly silent.

Terran smirked as he stared up at the shocked face of Niko Constantin, shifting so the man was on the ground, gasping for air as his throat filled with blood, choking him. He bent down low, staring him right in the eye, satisfaction rising in his chest.

He held up the gun he had taken from Natasha before the man had turned around to look at them, shaking it lightly. "I have to admit, you're not entirely wrong. It might not be the human condition, but it looks like it's yours. Thanks for teaching me how to load a gun while pinned down, by the way. Turns out you did teach me something."

As Terran watched the man die, Natasha stood outside, trying to decipher the slurred babbling coming from her receiver, Milo struggling to speak, drugged and hazy. She could hear someone else shouting in the background, as well as the sound of his body hitting the table and a chair before he fell onto the ground, his hand sliding against the wood as he tried to stay upright.

"The mole was Levitsky," he panted, struggling to stay conscious, "I found all his messages and everything, there's a weapon that's set to be fired today, I don't know what it's for, though, but it's him. He was on the team from the very beginning, he has access to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files and records and devices, he knew where your safe house is, when you would be going over to theirs, he could listen to anyone's phone calls, he knew everything, he found the first letter."

"Schwartz, is Fury on his way?" Natasha demanded, filing the information away for once Terran made it out, "What happened."

"I don't know, and he gave me water," Milo slurred, and he sounded worse and worse by the second.

"He's on his way now," Natasha said, sending a text to the director knowing that he always checked immediately, but it was still nerve wracking, what with Milo going completely silent now.

Natasha bit her lip as she tried to make sense of everything that Milo had told her, trying to figure out just how many agents were working with Levitsky, though, if anything, Milo had those answers already.

The door opened, and Natasha whirled around, holding up her gun, her heart pounding. She had heard the shot go off inside, but nothing else, and she had answered Milo's call before she decided to go inside.

But then there was Terran, shaken but smiling, looking like he had finally been able to relax for the first time in his life, and there she had been, thinking she had seen him relaxed before. He looked like he was expecting her to sigh and smile and hug him, but his smile dropped as soon as he saw her frown stay as she put her gun away.

"What happened, he's dead," he asked, motioning towards the building, and he said it as if it were nothing when, in reality, it was everything.

Or so he thought.

"Milo discovered the mole," she explained, checking to see if anyone could give her any more information regarding not on Milo's news and general condition, "He said that Levistky had been on us since day one, and that there's a weapon set to be fired today, that he had access to everything. He could have intercepted our calls that we didn't make in the designated areas, that's probably how it was so easy for them to find exactly what time we were going to their safe house since we never wrote it anywhere."

Terran mumbled to himself as he tried to make sense of it all, and it was strange considering what happened next. One moment, he was trying to come to terms that Constantin had been on him since day one. The next, he was trying to explain as quickly as possible what it truly meant that Constantin had been on him since day one.

"He was stalling," Terran explained, trying to keep himself from swatting Natasha's arm the way he did with Janelle, "He told me, he said that-that no one was going to remember me, because I remembered him, he was just getting us to chase him around while they finished up that weapon the guy from the bar told me from the very beginning, they already had it ready. They were already finished, they weren't just getting started."

"What, are you saying that they've actually done it? We were sure those weren't getting off the ground, there haven't been any reports for anything that would seem like tests, the closest was that incident at that house," she said, and she looked more than concerned, which didn't do anything to help him calm down.

Terran repeated her words back to himself as he tried to find the answer for himself, going through everything that she had said, as well as everything that Constantin had told him. The man had said that, in addition to no one remembering Terran, no one would remember the rest of the complex. Natasha had also said that they had been able to listen in to phone calls that were made in non-designated areas, which Terran had done only once while in S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.

"I need to get home."

º º º

Time seemed to slow as Terran and Natasha raced to Brooklyn. The near five hour drive seemed to take an entire day, yet they never once found themselves stopping due to traffic or even to get gas, which was questionable, yet hardly anything they had to think about.

Along the way, they were made aware of Milo's stable condition in the hospital, the man being woken up in order to be questioned, explaining that, before he lost consciousness entirely, Levitsky had walked into the room thinking he had passed out before he had called Natasha, talking on the phone to someone who was explaining that they were only given a short head start, that the weapon needed hours and hours to be fully ready to be used, especially since it was their first time.

That gave Terran hope, but he had been taught that without follow through, hope was meaningless, and the fall was impossible to recover from.

"No one's picking up," Terran said, feeling his stomach plummet as he went straight to voicemail, "I don't know what's going on."

Natasha checked her phone, trying to see if Milo had any answers. "That call you had made to the complex, they were able to route to it, they sent a S.H.I.E.LD. issued notice that they turn off all their devices, they think you told them to."

Terran cursed, moving even faster than he already had, and it was a wonder that they hadn't been pulled over yet, but at the moment, he couldn't even be bothered to think about it, because he couldn't even check to make sure that they were still okay.

"Call Nicky," he said, tossing the phone over to Natasha, "He was routed in through the complex and it's impossible to track his phone or where he lives, he'll pick up."

She didn't argue or try to point out how he shouldn't be bossing her around, simply dialing the number and putting it on speakerphone, holding it up towards him, the two listening to the constant ringing, and Terran was about to call it quits right then and there, but then Nicky picked up at the very last second.

"Terran, hey!" he called, and he sounded overjoyed, but not because he was calling, "What's going on?"

"Nicky, thank God, are you okay, baby?" he called, and he hoped the panic wasn't showing in his voice, because the last thing he wanted to do was scare him.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what he did. "Are you okay?" the young man asked, the sound of rustling in the background, "What's going on, do you need help? 'Cause Rhett and I are eating out in the city right now, but I can get there real quick, I'll take a cab or something, are you home?"

Terran could hear his smile disappearing, and he hadn't even been able to see the smile. He never got to see that smile. "No, there's nothing wrong, baby, just wanted to check in. Go back to what you're doing, what are you doing?"

"They're having this game night thing, but because someone rented out the whole place for later, they pushed it back earlier, so we jumped in to see if we can win," he explained, the smile coming back, and Terran would have given anything to see it, "Is that all, Terran, I kinda wanna get back to something."

"Yeah, baby, talk to you later, have fun, stay safe," he called, swallowing thickly as he called just before Nicky hung up, "Love you."

Nicky's response was the hurried response of a young man who had something better to do, but still cared more than anything. "Love you too."

Then the line dropped, and Terran didn't know how to feel. For years, he wanted Nicky to talk that way to him, to have something more important to do than to have another check in conversation with Terran, but in that moment, all he wanted to do was to hear his voice and keep him there, just until he could find him and hold him close, to make sure that he no one would ever get to him so long as he was around.

"We're nearly there," was all Natasha said, because even she could see that he wasn't ready to talk about that phone call.

But by the end of it, the phone call was the least of Terran's concerns.

By the time they made it to Brooklyn, Terran was about to pass out from his level of panic, Natasha now at the wheel as the man struggled to catch his breath, his chair pushed back as far as it could go so he could put his head between his knees and breathe.

"We're here," she said, and the two jumped out of the car and ran towards the vicinity of the complex.

If Terran was asked later on, he would call it a bad dream. That was the only way to explain it, because it felt like a dream. He and Natasha racing towards the complex, the building that no one else could truly see except for him. The home that he had spent years building and solidifying, bringing in those that needed a home, giving them what he so desperately needed. A place that had more of his soul than his own body had.

It was like there was a ripple that went through the entire block. He could see a wave making its way through the sky, colliding with the building, and he could feel the change, his entire body hit with something he couldn't see nor explain, knocking him flat on his back, Natasha stumbling next to him.

But the moment was gone as quickly as it came and the moment it left Terran was on his feet and sprinting to the building, the facade still up, feigning normalcy and calm, but he could feel something wrong, something missing.

Then he stepped through the facade, and his entire world came crumbling down. Or, more accurately, wasn't there at all. Instead of the various rooms and levels, the stairs and the people calling down to greet him, the sight that gave him hope every single day, all that he found was an empty plot of land. Absolutely nothing.

He heard a scream ring out then, and it wasn't until his head was on the ground that he realized the scream had come from him, and for all that he could hardly feel anything, he couldn't stop feeling now, and the pain was excruciating.

It pierced his heart and tore it to shreds, the ache seeping through his veins, pounding in his head, branching out to the tips of his fingers and toes, his entire body aching, tears freely flowing as his body was wracked with sobs and shudders, practically convulsing as he tried to accept the fact that everyone in his life was gone. Every single one.

Janelle was gone. Late at night, he dreamt that he'd lose everyone, everything, but he'd always have Janelle. He promised he'd come home sometime, she made him promise, but all that time, he expected he'd have a home to get back to. He'd have Janelle. Now he had no one.

Except. "Text Nicky," he coughed, struggling to speak as he choked and began to wheeze, "Ask if he and Rhett are okay, I don't-"

Natasha shushed him, already pulling out his phone, only to stop when she caught sight of a notification on his phone. "He's on his way, he said that someone had called him and was on the phone before it cut out."

Terran's breathing quickened as he nodded, struggling to remember how to breathe, and Natasha bent down to talk to him, her eyes betraying her neutral expression as she moved to brush back his hair.

"What are you going to tell him?" she asked, glancing back towards the facade of the building facing the street, "What are you going to do?"

Terran shrugged, stammering. "I-I don't know, we're-we're gonna have to find a new place to live? Their complex is heavily guarded, but who knows how long that'll stay up, we can stay there for now, but then we'll have to run again, so they're gonna have to figure out how they're going to finish their schooling, but Nicky's got that prospect at Oscorp soon-"

Just like that, everything came crashing down. Because for years, all Terran wanted was for Nicky to live a normal life, to finally have some semblance of normalcy, to stop letting his life revolve around Terran. He just wanted to keep everyone safe, but there he was now, planning on uprooting Nicky's life as if it was his to destroy. As if he had any right to hurt him anymore than he already had, because for all Terran gave him a home and showed him love, he had forced him to shoulder more weight than he deserved.

"Terran," Natasha said, shaking his shoulder, "Terran, what are you thinking?"

He shook his head. "I can't-I can't let him see me."

"What?" she demanded, chasing after him as he stumbled to his feet, rushing out from the facade and across the street, hiding behind one of the buildings, "What are you talking about?"

"If he sees me, he's going to want to stick with me, he's like that, he wants to keep everyone safe, he'll uproot his entire life, I won't even have to ask, and I can't let him do that, he-he's just starting to smile. I can't do that to him," he explained, trying to make himself as small as possible, his head pounding, "I can't."

"Then we should go," Natasha said, after a few moments of silence, acknowledging that keeping Nicky and Rhett in the dark was the best course of action, because the last thing they needed were people going after them to get to Terran.

"No, I want to see them," Terran said, looking towards the building that he had once called home, "Just one last time."

Natasha sighed, looking towards the facade, knowing that he wouldn't be able to see Nicky once he stepped inside. "Then let's get closer."

The two made their way back over, positioning themselves towards the back of the building, hidden more along the others bracketing it, hidden from view or detection, but still able to see inside the empty lot.

They waited for what seemed like hours, but what truly couldn't have been more than a handful of minutes, Terran seated while Natasha stood, the man rocking back and forth slightly as he continued to try and find his breath, choking back tears.

Then the footsteps. The moment they appeared, the two were craning to look, knowing that they were covered, hearing two pairs of feet slamming against the concrete before seeing the two young men bursting through the facade, passing straight through the door.

The look on Nicky's face was enough to break him. The look of pure horror and fear. The fear a child wore when they were lost, the fear of being completely and utterly alone, and Terran had promised, he had promised that he would never have to be alone again.

"Terran!" Nicky called, and the blond sobbed, shoving his fist into his mouth to keep silent, his entire body shaking as the young man continued to call out, "Janelle! Terran!"

"Nicky," Rhett whispered, grabbing onto the younger man as he fell to his knees, his breathing ragged, "Nicky, they're not here."

Then Nicky started crying, and Terran couldn't take it. Couldn't take how Rhett struggled to keep him upright, trying to help him breathe through the worst panic attack of his life. Couldn't take how much he wanted to run to him and hold him and keep him safe.

He had gone through this all for the people he loved, but all he did was ruin their lives.

"Terran, we need to go," Natasha whispered, "Either you go to them or we leave, but you have to move now."

Terran sobbed, shaking his head, because he didn't want to go. He didn't want to leave, he wanted to stay there forever, to wait for everything to be okay, but that wasn't how this worked, this wasn't how it was going to play out, and he hated it.

He opened his eyes, looking towards the last two pieces of his life, wiping away the tears to look at them clearly. Despite everything, he tried to see them better. They would move on, they would. They had left behind so much, they could leave him and the complex behind, they were already starting to.

Rhett would take his place at Brooklyn Elementary, and Nicky would take the position at Oscorp. He would be free from Terran and the complex, he could make friends, he wouldn't have to worry. He'd be successful and he would smile. He would smile because he didn't have to worry, and that was all Terran wanted for him.

So he left. Sobbing and shaking and hating himself, he left. His heart ripped to shreds and body craving to just be killed on the spot, because that would hurt less than how he felt now. He made his way around the building, the sound of Nicky screaming his name fresh in his mind.

He never did finish his joke.

He turned back around towards the building as they hit the sidewalk, wanting to change his mind and rush back in, to tell him that Nicky was his favorite thing in the world, that he was there, he didn't leave him, that everything would be okay.

But if he did, he would be lying, because if he went to Nicky, nothing would be okay.

So he followed Natasha to the van, reaching out to hold her hand, because that was all he could do. Try to find some semblance of comfort on the worst day of his life, shaking as he climbed into the passenger seat, too shaken to even think of driving.

"This is what he needs," he whispered to himself as they prepared to head back to D.C., "It doesn't matter what I want, he needs this. He does."

What separates people from animals is the human condition. The choice to separate one from their own happiness in favor of supporting another without any personal gain. The want for more than what is livable, the want for something better. To wish for happiness for oneself and others, even if it means more pain than anything in the world. That is the human condition.

Terran settled into the car as Natasha drove them back to Washington, staring out towards the setting sun, trying to come to terms with what had just happened, unsure of what would happen next.

He turned to look towards her, taking a deep breath as she looked back at him, giving him a sad smile, the first genuine smile she had ever given him. "We're going to fix this. We're going to find them and you'll get to go home. I promise."

Terran licked his lips, nodding to himself as he fought back tears, his entire body wracked with a kind of pain he had never felt before. An overwhelming sadness and, yet, overwhelming hope. A hope that things would get better, would be better, and a hope that he had made the right decision. A hope that they would be okay. Because, in the end, many years later, they would all be okay.

Everything would be okay.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 01.20.19 )

10,785 words. I've never written a chapter that came close to this length. Yet here we are. For those who haven't read Almost Happy, you definitely should as you'll see another side to this entire story told from the "future" in relation to this. For those who have...here's how it all began.

I'll say more in the afterword, but thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!