★·.·★ h͎a͎n͎n͎a͎h͎ ★·.·★

SHIELD HEADQUARTERS Washington, DC

The hum of the command center filled the air as dozen analysts worked at their consoles. A red alert suddenly flashed across the monitor: UNAUTHORIZED ENERGY SIGNATURE DETECTED - LOCATION: UNKNOWN FACILITY, SIBERIA.

Clint Barton sets down his coffee mug with a sigh, as he frowns as he looks up at the flashing screen. The energy readings were erratic, unstable ─ and the location... had unfamiliar coordinates. "Nat, you seeing this?" He called from across the room, as Natasha Romanoff loomed up from her console as her brows were knitted together.

"Yeah. That's... weird, looks like someone overloaded an entire control grid. Energy spiked off the charts," the redhead says to the Archer.

"Red Room, tech?" Clint asks as he leaned closer to the monitor to try to get a good look at it.

"Could be," she says quietly to the Archer. "But the Red Room was dismantled years ago. At least... that's what happened, when me and you took it down and killed Dreykov."

They exchanged a knowing look, as a voice soon cracked over the comm, as it was the pirate, Nick Fury. "Barton and Romanoff ─ you're both being assigned to investigate the anomaly in Siberia. Immediate departure."

Clint groaned under his breath, as he wanted to finish his coffee before he went of saving or getting people, and to think about it... it's not even ten a.m. yet. "Let's go," he mutters underneath his breath.

Something about this rescue mission felt different ─ almost off. The readings, the location, the sudden radio silence from the Russian branch ─ it all screamed help.

But what he didn't know was that, miles away, the person SHIELD had flagged as 'potential hostile' was his daughter, running through the snow barefoot, bloodied, freezing, and determined to survive.

SIBERIA, RUSSIA

Alyssa's lungs burned as she crawled out of the river, as her soaked clothes freezing instantly against her skin. Her fingers trembled violently, but she forced herself up stumbling towards a faint light in the distance ─ an old outpost or storage shed.

Her legs had given out halfway, but she crawled the rest of the way, collapsing inside. It was dark, dusty and half-collapsed ─ but sheltered. She had ripped off the upper layer of her soaked Red Room clothes, and wrapped herself in a tarp that she had found and used that as a blanket.

Her mind raced, adrenaline fading into exhaustion. Every muscle screamed in protest, but she didn't dare to sleep. Not yet. She had no idea that just above her, SHIELD's quinjet was cutting through the snowstorm ─ Clint and Natasha strapped in, scanning thermal images on their tablets. "Picking up movement, about two clicks west," Natasha says to Clint who was standing beside her getting his arrows ready. "Small and humanoid. Probably not one of theirs ─ the others are all heading east."

Clint leaned over to look at the redhead. "So, we've got a stray."

Nat nodded her head at what he said. "Looks like it. Could be survivor. Could be bait."

Clint's instincts told him to be cautious, but something in his chest twisted ─ a strange pull that he couldn't explain. He'd followed countless signals, tracked countless targets, in between saving the world from Gods, robots, and everything in between... but this one felt personal. Too personal.

The quinjet touched down soft in that snow, as a minute later, Clint stepped out with his bow and arrows in hand. The Archer looked at his tablet and saw a faint figure inside a small structure. When he stepped through the doorway, he froze. There she was ─ a young woman, no older than twenty, trembling in the dark, as her eyes were wide as she looked up at him. Her face was dirty, bruised but familiar in a way that made his heart skip a beat. He raised his eyebrows at her, as he spoke. "Don't move," he orders as his tone was sharp and controlled. "Who are you? Are you alone?"

Alyssa blinked at the weapon pointed at her, as confusion flashed across her face. That voice. That stance. It felt... familiar. "Я... не враг." she whispers in Russian, shivering because of the cold.

Clint hesitated; her accent was soft, Russian-tinted but broken ─ like she wasn't born there. Her eyes locked with his, and something clicked in the back of his mind.

Those eyes.

He lowered the bow slightly, uncertainty flickering in his chest. "Who are you?" He asked again, but this time his tone was slightly quieter this time.

Alyssa swallowed hard, as her voice was shaking. "Alyssa... Mae Barton."

That name had hit him like a bullet. For a moment, he didn't move ─ didn't even breathe. The cold air, burned in his lungs as the words sunk in. "...What did you just say?" He whispers to her.

Alyssa's lip trembled at him, as she spoke again. "You're... my father."

Clint's bow fell from his hand and sunk into the snow. For the first time in fifteen years, the world stopped around him. He took a hesitant step toward her, with disbelief and hope warring in his chest. "Alyssa?" He says nearly a whisper as he's been waiting for this moment since she had disappeared and not kidnapped all those years ago. And it was finally happening.

Tears welling up in her eyes as she spoke to him. "Hi, daddy,"

For a moment, Clint didn't move. He just stared at her, his breath fogging in the cold air. The name echoed in his mind ─ Alyssa Mae Barton. It couldn't be. It was impossible.

So, is finding out that Gods existed in the universe, but that doesn't count.

She looked older, colder, hardened by something dark ─ but her eyes, those blue-gray eyes that used to light up whenever she made a perfect shot with her toy bow when she was five years old ─ they were now unmistakable now.

It was her. "Alyssa?" He whispered again, stepping closer, as his voice was breaking.

Alyssa flinched at the sound of her name, uncertain, almost afraid to believe it too. Her lips trembled. "You... you remember me?"

Clint's heart clenched at what she said. He wanted to say everything ─ that he never topped remembering, that every mission, every sleepless night, every time he saw a blonde girl in a crowd, he hoped it was her. But all that came out was a strangled, "Of course I do."

He dropped to his knees in front of her, reaching out with trembling hands, as Alyssa's eyes filled with teras, she wanted to reach back, to throw her arms around him like she used to ─ but years of conditioning and fear held her back, as her hands shook. "I-I don't know if I'm supposed to."

"You don't have to be scared," Clint says softly with his voice thick with emotion. "Not anymore."

Her breath hitched, and for the first time in fifteen years, Alyssa Mae Bartn let her guard down. She lunged forward, collapsing into his arms with a sob that had shaken her body. Clint caught her instantly, wrapping his arms around her like he was afraid she'd disappear again. He buried his face into her hair, as his chest was tight with relief and heart beak all at once. "I've got you," he murmurs over and over, rocking her gently in the freezing snow around them. "You're okay, baby. I've got you. You're home."

Alyssa clung to him, the years of pain and isolation spilling out of her in uncontrollable sobs. "They said you'd forget me," she says as she choked on a sob. "They said no one was looking. They said that you didn't want me anymore─"

Clint's heart broke clean in two. He pulled back just enough to look in her eyes. "Hey, listen to me." He says to her before he continues. "I never stopped looking. Not for a second. Do you understand? I would've burned the world down for you, babygirl."

Her lips quivered, as tears froze on her cheeks. "I thought... I thought you were just a dream."

Clint brushed a strain of her hair out of her face, as his thumb was tracing on her cheek. "You're real. You're here. You're here now."

Natasha's voice broke through the silence from the doorway of the small shed. "Clint?" The redhead asks as Clint turned as he was still holding Alyssa close. Natasha stood frozen, her eyes wide with disbelief. "No, way," she whispers to Clint, as she stepped forward, scanning the girl's face. "That's─"

Clint nodded his head, as his voice was raw with emotion. "It's her, Nat. It's my little girl."

Natasha crouched down beside the father and daughter, as her normally guarded expression softening. "Hey, kiddo," she says gently to Alyssa. "You gave us quite the scare, especially your dad."

Alyssa blinked at her; her breath caught in her throat. "You're... the Black Widow." She whispers with awe and confusion in her voice.

Natasha gave her a small smile. "Yeah."

Alyssa gave a weak, tearful laugh – the first sound of joy she's made in tears. Clint smiled through his own tears, tightening his arms around her.

But beneath the relied, Natasha's sharp eyes caught something else – faint bruising along Alyssa's neck, track marks from needles, and the faint glow of residual energy along her hands.

She exchanged a look with Clint. Whatever they did to Alyssa in that facility... it wasn't over. "We need to get her to medical." Natasha says quietly. "Now."

Clint nodded his head as he slipped an arm around Alyssa's knees and lifted her effortlessly like he would when she fell asleep on the couch. She didn't fight it – she just rested her head against his shoulder as he eyes fluttering close.

As they boarded the Quinjet, Clint brushed his hand through her hair and whispered. "You're safe now, sweetheart. I promise. Nobody's ever taking you from me again."

And the first time since she was five years old, Alyssa Barton finally believed him.

A low him echoed through the Quinjet, steady and rhythmic – the kind of sound that could lull someone to sleep if it didn't make them feel like they were floating between worlds.

Alyssa stirred, blinking against the harsh light above her. The ceiling wasn't the cold metal of the Red Room facility, and the sheets beneath her were soft – too soft. She tensed immediately, her muscles snapping into instinct. This isn't right. They moved me. They–

Her hands shot up, reaching for restraints that weren't there. Her breath came fast and panicked.

"Hey, hey, easy." Came a voice – calm, familiar and unbearably gentle.

Clint.

Alyssa froze, chest heaving as her eyes darted to the source. He was sitting beside the med cot, still in his mission gear, bow leaning against the wall.  He looks exhausted – dark circles under his eyes, stubble shadowing his jaw – but when he meets her gaze, his expression softens.

"It's okay." He says quietly, raising his hands slightly to show he wasn't a threat. "You're safe, Lyssa."

Her throat tightened. That nickname — Lyssa — it tugged at something buried deep; she hadn't let herself remember in years. 

"You...you really are here." She whispers as her voice trembles. 

Clint gave her a faint, almost disbelieving smile. "Yeah, kiddo. I'm really here."

She looks around still wary. The room was small, clean, humming with tech. She recognized the faint SHIELD insignia on the monitor beside her — the same symbol she'd seen in the Red Room files, the one they said belonged to the enemy.

Her eyes narrowed. "This is SHIELD."

"It is." He says carefully to her. "But we're not like the people who took you. I promise you that." 

Alyssa's fingers curled into the blanket. "They said SHIELD would come for me. That if I tried to escape, you'd lock me away too."

Clint's jaw clenched. "They lied to you, Ally. About a lot of things." He says as he leans forward slightly as his voice lowered. "You're not a prisoner here. You're home. We're gonna help you, okay?"

Her lips parted, but she didn't know what to say. The word home didn't feel real — not yet. It had been a weapon; a memory used against her to break her spirit. She glances down at her hands — faint traces of that strange blue light still lingered beneath her skin. Her pulse spiked a little. "They did something to me." She says in a whisper, almost afraid to admit it. "I don't even know who I am anymore."

Clint reaches out slowly, his hand hovering above hers. "You're my daughter." He says firmly but softly. "That's who you are. That all that matters to me."

Her eyes filled again, but she quickly turned her head away, ashamed. "You shouldn't touch me. I don't know if it's safe. I—"

But before she could finish, the door slid open. Natasha stepped in, her usual stoic expression softened into something protective. "Hey, kid." She says to Alyssa. "Mind if I come in?" Alyssa hesitated, but Clint gave her a nod, so she did too. Natasha crossed the room slowly, setting down a tray — tea, a few crackers, and something that looked suspiciously like soup. "You need to eat. You've been out for nearly twenty hours."

"Twenty—" Alyssa says as she blinked. "I thought..." She says as she shook her head. "Time doesn't feel real anymore."

Natasha's gaze flickered briefly to Clint, then back at Alyssa. "That's normal." She says softly to the girl. "It's gonna take some time to come back from what they did to you. But you're not alone anymore. You've got people now — people who actually care."

Alyssa swallowed hard, as her chest tightening. "Why would you care? You don't even know me."

Natasha smiled faintly at her. "I know a Red Room survivor when I see one."

Alyssa's eyes widened slightly. She's heard whispers — the Widow who broke free, who turned on them. The others called her a traitor, a myth.

"You were one of them." Alyssa whispers.

"Yeah." Natasha says simply. "And I got out. Just like you did."

For the first time, Alyssa's posture relaxed — just for a fraction. Clint then reached over, setting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to talk about any of it yet. Just rest, okay? We'll take care of the rest."

Alyssa nodded her head, her eyes heavy again. The hum of the Quinjet faded into the background, it was replaced by the faint rhythm of her heartbeat — steady, safe, human.

As she drifted off to sleep, she heard Clint's voice one last time, quiet and full of something she hadn't heard in years: hope.

"Welcome home, Lyssa."

───※ ·❆· ※──

The world came back to Alyssa slowly this time. No alarms. No shouting in Russian. No pain. Just the faint murmur of voices outside the med bay door and the steady rhythm of her heart monitor. She sat up gingerly, her muscles aching but no longer screaming. Someone had left a folded set of SHIELD sweatpants and hoodie at the end of the bed — dark gray with a white insignia on the sleeve. Beside it, a small note written in clear, looping handwriting thought you might want something that doesn't feel like a hospital gown — nat

Alyssa couldn't help but faintly smile, as it felt strange — the small kindness of it. Almost too gentle for someone who once lived in constant survival mode. She then quickly changed, slipping into the sweatpants and hoodie. The fabric was soft, comfortable — and grounding. When she caught her reflection in the mirror across the room, she hesitated.

The girl staring back didn't look like a Barton. Not really. There were scars along her arms, dark circles beneath her eyes, and an unfamiliar hardness in her expression. But there was something else, too — something new. Strength.

Curiosity tugged at her, and before she could second-guess it, she stepped out of the med bay. The SHIELD training floor was massive — clean, sterile, alive with the hum of machinery and distant sparring sounds. Agents trained in pairs, voices echoing across the polished floor. Alyssa stayed close to the wall, observing quietly, her instincts still sharp from years of caution. Then her gaze caught on one figure in particular — a guy about her age, maybe a little older, training alone in the far corner.

He was quick — tooo quick to be a rookie. Each strike was controlled, precise, the movements of someone who had learned from experience, not just instruction. His dark hair fell from his eyes as he shifted into a new stance, landing a final hit on the target dummy with a solid crack.

The sound startled her — and before she could stop herself, Alyssa reacted. Her hands flared with that faint, glowing blue energy again. The nearest lights flickered, as the console beside her sparked. "Whoa — hey, easy!" The guy shouts, spinning around as the target dunny shortened out behind him. "You trying to fry the whole floor?"

Alyssa froze, as her eyes went wide. "I — I didn't mean to—"

He raised his hands in mock surrender, his tone was easy. "It's fine. Happens to the best of us. Especially when 'the best of us' can apparently short out a power grid with one bad mood swing." He says, as Alyssa gave him a blinking look, unsure if he was teasing or being serious.

"Who are you?" She asks him, as he gave her a crooked grin.

"Barnes. Grant Barnes." He says to her as he held out his hand. "My Dad's Bucky, the guy with the metal arm."

Her brows shot up when he said that, as she's heard numerous stories about the Winter Soldier for years, but she always thought that they were myths that people made up to scare others. But to find out that he's an actual being and not made up make her nervous about the man that she never actually met. "You mean, the Bucky Barnes? The Winter Soldier?" She asks like it was a question, as Grant shook his head a little at what he said.

"He likes to be called 'former'." Grant says as he grabs a towel and wipes his hands. "He's... around sometimes, more so in the library reading The Hobbit to Alpine."

"Who's... Alpine?"

"She's well technically my cat. He sometimes catnaps her but not in a bad way, just because she's the only one who willingly wants attention from him." Grant says as Alyssa lets out a small laugh at what he said as he leans against the wall beside her as his voice softened. "Clint thought you were dead. For a long time. It's gonna take him time to realize that you're really here, and him not thinking he's hallucinating it."

She nodded her head quietly at what he said. "Yeah, I guess it'll take me a minute too," she says to him as a comfortable silence settled between them — the kind of quiet that didn't need filling.

Then Grant grinned at herm. "You ever trained with a bow before? Or do you just do the 'lightning heads thing'?" He asked her as her lips quirked at what he said.

"Once or twice, when I was younger." Alyssa says, to him, as Grant grabbed a spare bow from the rack and handed it to her.

"Let's, see if you still got it, Barton." He says to her as she hesitated — but the moment her fingers wrapped around the grip something clicked. Familiar. Steady. Safe. Alyssa drew an arrow, and exhaled and let it fly. It hit the center target dead on, as Grant lets out a low whistle. "Okay, wow. Guess that answers that."

Alyssa smiles — small but genuine. For the first time since escaping, she didn't feel like a weapon or an experiment. She felt like herself. And from the observation deck above, stood Clint watching silently — pride and heartbreak mingling behind his eyes — as his daughter reclaimed a piece of she had once been.

Hours passed. The training floor emptied, leaving only the faint hum of lights overhead. Alyssa and Grant stayed behind — their quiet laughter echoing through the otherwise empty facility.

Grant leaned against the wall, watching as Alyssa adjusted her stance for another shot. "You know," he said, "you make it look like you've never stopped."

Alyssa drew the string back, her eyes narrowing on the target. "Maybe I didn't. Maybe I just didn't know I was still fighting."

She released the arrow — another bullseye. "Okay, that's just showing off now," Grant said with a grin.

Alyssa smirked. "Maybe a little."

Before he could answer, the lights above them flickered once, then twice — and the entire room plunged into darkness.

"Uh... that's not me this time," Alyssa said quickly.

Grant turned toward the control panel. "Then who—" The lights flared back on. But now the targets had been replaced by life-sized holograms of Clint, Natasha, and Director Fury — each of them dramatically scowling and tapping their feet. Grant groaned. "Oh, come on."

A deep, amused voice floated down from the upper level. "Really, Barnes, Barton... you make it too easy."

Alyssa looked up just as a familiar green shimmer rippled through the air, revealing Loki lounging on the edge of the railing like he owned the place — one leg crossed, his black and green coat sweeping dramatically behind him.

"God of Mischief," Grant muttered. "More like God of Interruptions."

Loki smirked. "Careful, young mortal. I could make you relive your most embarrassing childhood memory on repeat for a week."

Grant folded his arms. "You already did that last month."

Alyssa blinked. "Wait, you two know each other?"

Grant rubbed the back of his neck. "Let's just say he's... around. A lot. SHIELD keeps him on retainer for 'cosmic consultation.' Which basically means he pranks people until Fury threatens to revoke his coffee privileges."

Loki gave a wounded sigh. "You mortals have no appreciation for art." His emerald eyes flicked toward Alyssa. "And you, little Barton. You've caused quite the stir."

Alyssa frowned. "You know who I am?"

"Oh, please." Loki leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand. "Half the facility won't stop whispering about the girl who survived the Red Room and walked out wielding energy older than the Tesseract itself. You're practically a legend already."

"That's... not what I want to be known for," Alyssa muttered.

Loki's expression softened — only slightly. "Then become something else. You, of all people, should know that we are not defined by what others made us."

Grant raised a brow. "That's surprisingly wise coming from you."

Loki smirked again. "Don't sound so shocked, Barnes. Redemption looks good on me."

Then, with a flick of his fingers, the holograms of Clint, Natasha, and Fury vanished — replaced by floating blue orbs that spun lazily around Alyssa before forming into a glowing bow of light.

Alyssa reached out, hesitant, and the weapon solidified in her hands — sleek, luminous, and humming faintly with the same energy she'd unleashed before.

"What is this?" she whispered.

"Something I made," Loki said simply. "A focus. To help you control what burns inside you before it consumes you."

Grant whistled low. "Okay, I'll admit — that's actually cool."

Loki grinned, clearly proud of himself. "Of course it is. I made it."

Alyssa stared at the glowing bow, mesmerized by how natural it felt in her hands. Like it had been waiting for her. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Don't thank me yet, Barton," Loki replied, standing. "Control is a dangerous thing. Once you have it... others will come for it."

With that cryptic warning, he snapped his fingers — and vanished in a flash of green light.

Alyssa and Grant stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty spot he'd been.

Grant finally sighed. "You get used to that."

Alyssa smiled faintly, still holding the bow. "Yeah. Somehow I don't think I'll ever get used to any of this."

───※ ·❆· ※──

Through the glass, Clint and Natasha watched Alyssa and Grant training together again — the faint glow of her new bow illuminating the dim floor.

"She's good," Natasha said quietly. "Too good for someone who hasn't picked up a bow in fifteen years."

Clint's voice was rough when he answered. "She's got muscle memory. I taught her when she was three." He swallowed hard. "Guess she never forgot."

Natasha glanced at him. "You okay?"

He gave a small, humorless laugh at what she said. "I spent fifteen years looking for her. I thought I'd know exactly what to say when I found her again." His eyes softened. "But every time I see her, I see that little girl with pigtails who used to beg me to let her help string arrows. And now she's... this."

Natasha rested a hand on his shoulder. "She's alive. That's what matters. You'll find your way back to her."

Clint nodded slowly, watching Alyssa laugh as Grant fumbled a shot. "Yeah," he murmured. "I just hope she still wants me there when she does."

───※ ·❆· ※──

hannah speaks!

hope you like this chapter!

see you in the next chapter!

It has been fifteen years.

Fifteen years since Alyssa Barton has seen the sun.

It has been fifteen years since everything happened, since she has been happy. But if one good thing happened, she has an Aunt. Well, not directly related but they say they are. Her name is Yelena. Yelena Belova. Like Alyssa, Yelena was taken away from her family when she was a child, along with her sister. In Ohio.

Yelena has told her numerous times that Alyssa could practically quote it. Every. Single. Time. Yelena has taken the girl under her wing, of being there for her especially when she needs it. Now they are both undergoing harsh training and Alyssa would trip a couple times, and she would get lashed every time. She has also stopped crying when she gets abused and or punished. Crying means you're weak.

"Vos'mi sebya v ruki, chert vos'mi, bespoleznyy soplyak." Was the voice of Dimitri as the man had lashed the girl as she tripped. She stopped crying when she got abused and or punished as she was used to it by now. (Translation: get a grip, you goddamn useless brat).

All she did was look at the man towering over her and nods her head slowly understanding the language like the back of her hand. "Yes sir, I will." Alyssa says in Russian.

Alyssa has tears welling up in her eyes, as she felt the pain from the whip that pierced her back. Yelena hurriedly carried her to a safe area which was down the hall and to the right. She gently put Alyssa in her lap, as she rubbed her back, as she carefully moved Alyssa's shirt to see the wound. "When is the bad going to go away?" Alyssa asks Yelena as even the blonde doesn't know the answer.

"I don't know, Lissy." Yelena says in English as she continued to hold Alyssa in her arms. Yelena has been protective of the little girl since she's laid her eyes on her. She treats the girl like a little sister. She knows that she has another sister. Natasha. But she's not here, as she's gone. Natasha promised that she'd come back for her but she never did.

She doesn't hate Natasha for not coming back but it still hurts thinking about it. Yelena knew that Alyssa was on the brink of her last teenage years. But she was still that little girl that she will always remember.

"Barton come." A voice says, as it was one of the males as he had found the hiding spot of Yelena and Alyssa. What caught Alyssa off guard was the tone, as it wasn't angry, or mad, it sounded too causal. Alyssa got up and obeyed. But before anything could happen, Alyssa fell to the floor unconscious.

Four hours later

Alyssa woke up from being unconscious. She looked around her surrounding as they screamed 'stranger, danger', but she didn't do anything about it. She waited until they landed as it was obvious that they were on a jet or a plane. As those are the only two things that can fly into the air and fit ten people. So, it definitely wasn't a helicopter.

It was a dark colored jet, or something, but she couldn't tell what it was exactly. She looked at one of the people on here, as he was definitely a male. He had scars all over his face and his hair was slicked b ack fancy as he was wearing a suit.

She saw that one of the other men had a menacing smile on his face as it clicked in her head that something was going to happen. Then she felt a sharp stabbing pain in her neck, as the male caught her before she fell.

She doesn't remember anything after that point, well, until she wakes up and she's connected to machines that will wipe her.

When she did wake up, she dazily looked around, all she saw was that she was in some form of room. She looked down and saw that she had multiple chords and whatnot connected to a machine. She was confused, as this wasn't the red room.

"Where am I? What's happening?" She asks, extremely confused as she looks around as the man that she barely remembers form earlier. The man she barely remembers from earlier turned to face her. His expression was cold and unreadable. He didn't move, didn't speak ─ just stared. Alyssa's heart hammered in her chest. She wanted to run, but the chords dug into her skin, pinning her down. Panic bubbled up in her.

"Don't be afraid... yet." The man says, as his voice was low, and deliberate, and strangely calm. Alyssa's brows furrowed. His words did nothing to ease her fear ─ it only made her more scared.

"Why am I here? What do you want from me?" She asks, trying to sound braver than she truly felt.

The man tilted his head slightly. "You've been... prepared for this. You're... important."

Alyssa's mind raced. Important? Important how? The Red Room? Yelena? Natasha? None of this made sense. Her fingers flexed against the restraints as she tried to move, which only caused the machine to keep softly. Which was anything but comforting at the moment.

"Important... for who?" She asked again.

The man sighs, stepping closer, as she flinches. "You are special, Barton. Very special. They... all want you. And now... so do I."

A cold shiver ran down her spine, something about the way he said 'special' made her blood run cold. She tried to pull her arm free, but it was no use. "You're... not... gonna let me go, are you?" She asks as her voice was barely above a whisper.

"That depends," he says leaning closer, as his piercing blue eyes locking with hers. "Will you obey?"

Alyssa's stomach twisted at what he said. Obey? She didn't even know who he was. Who are they? The thought of Yelena came to mind ─ her protective older sister figure. She wished Yelena was here. Wished Natasha was here. But they weren't, and she was alone.

"I... will not." She says quietly, with a hint of defiance in her voice.

The man's expression didn't change, but Alyssa felt the air in the room grow heavier. "We'll see about that." He says before turning and walking towards a console filled with buttons and screens.

Alyssa's eyes followed him, scanning the monitors, as it had images flashing across the screens ─ her.

Training.

Memories.

Every moment of the past few years, her heart raced at seeing them. "You've been... observed." He says without looking at her. "Every move, every failure... every moment of strength. They taught you well... but you will learn... faster now."

Alyssa's chest tightened, as she wanted to scream. She wanted to fight. But the fear held her down as he pressed a few buttons, and the machine hummed louder. A surge of energy cursed through her arms, making her flinch.

Pain?

Sensation?

She couldn't tell.

"You will remember." He says softly, almost like a whisper. "Everything you were trained for... and then... you will serve."

Alyssa's mind raced, panic and anger twisting together. She knew one thing for certain: she wasn't going to let anyone control him.

Not him.

Not the Red Room.

Not anyone.

She had to survive.

She had to escape.

She had to find Yelena.

But right now... she had no idea how.

.....

Alyssa gritted her teeth, as the machine hummed louder, a low vibration crawled up her arms and into her chest. Her mind screamed at her to fight it, to break free, but the cords dug into her skin. She clenched her fists, summoning every ounce of the Red Room training, she endured.

Breathe.

Focus.

They can't break you if you don't let them.

Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the cold sterile walls, the screens, the shadowed figure standing at the console. She noticed the tiniest crack in his posture ─ the almost imperceptible hesitation when he pressed the next button. Alyssa seized on it.

Drawing in a deep breath, she willed herself to push back against the sensation from the machine. At first, it was like swimming against a storm. Her muscles screamed, her vision blurred, but slowly ─ just barely ─ she felt the cords loosen.

The man turned sharply, with his blue eyes narrowing on her. "Interesting." He mutters, almost to himself. "You... resist... well."

Alyssa's lips curled up into a defiant smile despite the fear clawing at her chest. "I told you; I don't obey." She says as her voice was stronger now, more firmer.

He tilted his head, again, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Not yet, Barton. But you will... or it will hurt more."

Pain surged through her again, as the machine pulsed, stronger this time. Alyssa gritted her teeth and focused harder, channeling everything Yelena had drilled into her over the years: balance, control and patience.

Slowly, her vision, sharpened. She could feel herself tuning out the machine, the cords, and the pain itself.

And then ─ something unexpected happened, a spark of energy, a faint glow, flickered in her hands. The monitors flickered in response, the machine shuddering slightly. Alyssa's breath caught, she didn't fully understand it, but she could feel power, pulsing in her veins, a strength she hadn't realized she had.

The man's expression hardened, at the sight. "Ah... so there's more of you than I thought." He says as his voice carried a mixture of curiosity and caution now. He moved closer, studying her as she tried to mask her fear with determination.

Alyssa's heart raced, she didn't know exactly what she was capable of yet, but one thing was clear: she would not be another pawn in someone else's game.

She would survive.

She would escape.

One day, she would see Yelena again.

Her mind raced with possibilities, scanning the room for weakness, and anything she could use. The machine hummed again, but this time, it felt like she was holding the edge, not it controlling her.

"You... you can fight." The man says softly, almost impressed at her. "Perhaps you are... useful, after all."

In that moment, she made a silent vow. No matter what they tried to do to her, she would find a way to turn this against them. Every lesson Yelena taught her, every moment of pain in the Red Room, every drop of resilience she had built over fifteen long years ─ it all came down to this.

She was ready.

And for the first time in years, Alyssa felt a flicker of hope.

.....

The hum of the machine filled the air, violating deep in her chest. Her heartbeat pounded in rhythm with it ─ boom, hum, boom hum ─ until she couldn't tell which was her pulse and which was the machine's.

But she wasn't afraid anymore.

The flicker in her hands glowed brighter, brighter, tendrils of light spiraling from her fingertips. It wasn't like fire, not exactly ─ it was something else.

Energy.

Raw, focused, and dangerous.

She didn't know how she was doing it, but her instincts told her keep pushing.

The man took a cautious step back, watching her closely. "Stop. Whatever you're doing, stop now."

Alyssa smirked through gritted teeth. "You said I should learn faster." She spat tightening her fists.

The lights, above them flickered violently. The machines beeped erratically, alarms blaring in sharp bursts. Alyssa's body ached as if it was tearing itself apart, but she refused to stop. Not when freedom was too close, she could taste it.

A metallic snap echoed through the room ─ one of the restraints on her arm gave way, sparking as it broke loose. The man cursed in Russian, reaching for the console switch, but Alyssa lunged forward, ripping another cord out of her arm. The sudden rush of adrenaline drowned out the pain.

"Get security in here!" The man shouts into his earpiece, but the intercom sputtered and died ─ another side effect of Alyssa's energy surge. She staggered to her feet, her balance wavering from the sedative still coursing through her veins. Her vision swam, but her instincts carried her forward. Every movement, every breath echoed as Yelena's voice came to mind: if you can't fight them, outsmart them. Use what they give you.

Her bare feet hit the cold metal floor as she stumbled towards the door, as she pressed her hand to the keypad ─ and to her surprise, the panel shorted out instantly with a burst of blue light. The door then hissed open.

"How─" the man says startled, but Alyssa turned towards him, with her eyes glowing faintly with the same blue light.

"I said I'm not yours to control anymore."

With a single step backward, she slammed her fist into the control panel beside her, sending a violent jolt of energy through it. The entire lab dimmed ─ lights dying, machines shutting off, alarms silenced. The hum of her chest faded, replaced by the sound of her own breath.

For a moment, silence filled the air. Then ─ distant shouts, the sound of boots pounding down the corridor. She darted down the hall, as adrenaline driving her forwards. The sterile walls blurred past her as she ran. Every nerve screamed in protest, but she didn't stop. She didn't even know where she was going ─ only that she had to get out.

Turning a corner, she nearly collided with a glow window. On the other side, was a room full of monitors showing multiple camera feeds ─ her training Era, the Red Room corridors, even Yelena's face was on one of the screens.

The guards' shouts grew closer, as she turned away from the screen, with fire burning in her chest. If Yelena was out there, she'd find her. No matter what it took.

The door at the end of the hall burst open ─ three guards rushed in with their rifles raised directly at her. "Freeze!" One of them barked at her.

Alyssa raised her hands slightly, her expression unreadable. Then for the first time, since she was taken, she smirked ─ sharp and daring, a true Barton smile. "Make me."

Light then exploded from her palms, a burst of energy flooding the corridor. The guards flew backward as the power surged outward throwing sparks and glass in every direction. Alyssa stumbled back, panting, but when the dust settled, she was still standing.

Her hands trembled, but she grinned through the exhaustion. Clint Barton's daughter, she thought, never misses.

She turned towards the exit sign flickering red at the end of the hall. It wasn't over ─ not yet ─ but for the first time in fifteen years, she wasn't a prisoner.

She was a survivor.

And soon, she'd be going home.

.....

The world around Alyssa blurred as she ran, sirens wailed behind her, red lights flashing like blood across the metal walls. Every step sent pain through her legs, but she refused to stop. Not when freedom was right there.

She reached a steel door marked with faded Cyrillic letters ─ exit. She slammed her hand against the keypad again, and that same pulse of blue light sparked through her skin. The panel shorted, and the door hissed open.

Cold night air, hit her face for the first time in years. She hasn't been outside in fifteen years. Since she was taken.

Alyssa gasped, stumbling into the open. The world outside was endless black and gray ─ the compound hidden deep within the Russian wilderness. Because was where General Dreykov had stationed it, as it never stays in the same place. Snow swirled around her, biting her skin, but it didn't matter.

She was out.

She was free.

At least... she thought she was.

A spotlight blazed to life. Helicopter blades roared overhead, kicking up snow and debris. Alyssa threw her arm up to shield her eyes. Soldiers poured out of the shadows, shouting orders in Russian.

She was trapped.

Her breath came fast and uneven, as she backed away, towards the edge of a cliff that overlooked a frozen river. The wind tore at her hair. She had two choices: go back or jump.

And Alyssa Barton was done going back.

Taking one last breath, she ran and leaped from the cliff. The icy air ripped through her as she fell, river, below rubbing closer and closer until ─ SPLASH.

Pain exploded through her body as she hit the freezing water.

Darkness, then swallowed her.

Summary: Alyssa Barton is the oldest child between Clint & Laura Barton, she gets taken by the Red Room, when she was four years old, and she never saw her father and family until a decade ish later. But when she did see them again, she wasn't the innocent four-year-old, no she was an assassin.

A/N: i write this book, back in 2022 or shortly after Hawkeye came out, but this is an AU (alternate universe), but i will occasionally mention an event that has happened, but it won't be based on what happened.

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PROLOGUE!

Alyssa Barton's life wasn't always that extraordinary, well, it was until when she was four years old. She got abducted in broad daylight which was stupid if you ask her. But before that, there is the official beginning of Alyssa Mae Barton's life.

Alyssa grew up happy, and loving and loved being around her father. Her life was filled with love and happiness, well... until this.

"Ally stay by the fence, and don't go further." Clint says as he has baby Lila in his arms. As Laura gave birth to their other daughter four months ago. Alyssa was only one of the Barton children to have blonde hair much like Clint's.

"Got it!" Alyssa says as she is doing cartwheels while practicing her bow and arrow skills. Her two-year-old brother is inside as Clint walked away from Alyssa for not even five minutes, and when he walked back out to see if she had listened to him.

She was gone.

He quickly put Lila down for a nap, as he was on babysitting duty, as Laura was at the grocery store, getting food for dinner tonight.

Clint assumed that she went out back, as she sometimes changes her mind a lot. So, he went out back and there was no sign of her. He instantly grew concerned more as he kept looking and there was no sign of his daughter. "Ally!" Clint calls out hoping that his daughter will stop playing her games as it's scaring him. When she didn't respond back, he called again. "Ally! Alyssa!" He calls as he looks at all of the trees, as she also loves sitting in trees.

He felt like an idiot for looking for his daughter. "Come on, Alyssa Mae, it's not funny!" Clint shouts as he walks back inside and now Lila is being fussy, because one her daddy left, and then because she was hungry, as she had woken up from her nap. Clint made her some milk as Laura taught him how, and she happily took it. In the meantime, he was thinking of what in the fuck to say about Alyssa missing. He knew that Laura wasn't going to take the news well. At all. He can't blame her.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" The little boy asked his father as Clint was trying not to cry about his daughter being missing. "Where's Lissie?" He asks, as that's when Clint snapped out of his thoughts as he looked down at his oldest son.

"She's gone. She is missing." Clint says not wanting to lie to a child. Let alone his. He knew that Lila was too young to even remotely understand what happened to her older sister. The look on Cooper's face made Clint's heart break at the mere sight. He was confused, worried, and scared of his younger sister.

"What you mean she's gone, Daddy?" Cooper asks, as Clint bounces Lila on his knee, as she was a giggling mess despite the situation at hand, as Clint took a deep breath to calm him down from crying himself.

"She was outside, and I came inside to go to the bathroom and change your sister's diaper, when I went back outside, she was gone." Clint says as Cooper gave his father his tiger, as it calms the little boy down when he is about to cry.

Clint sadly took the tiger as the tiger, as the little boy ran off to grab another toy, this time it was Alyssa's lamb. That she had gotten when she was born from Clint. Alyssa would always carry her lamb everywhere. She loved her lamb so much with all of her heart. Clint almost cried when Cooper gave him the lamb.

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Clint hears Laura's car coming up the driveway as he is preparing himself for the worst as she won't take the news well, as that's her child. Well, their child. He took a deep breath, as he told Cooper to go into his playroom, as he put Lila down for another nap. Hoping that she doesn't wake up this time. "Honey, I'm home!" Was the happy voice of Laura as Clint wiped his tears off his face before Laura notices that he was crying.

"Hi, we missed you," Clint says not wanting to wake up the baby and raise any concerns to Cooper who is in his playroom. He faked a smile on his face as he didn't want to give away anything yet. He wants to keep Laura happy for a little longer.

"Where's Lyssa?" Laura asks as Clint felt his entire body freeze upon hearing that question. He almost didn't want to answer the question, but he knew that he had to.

After Clint told her, what happened, she cried into his chest, as he rubbed her bac, as he feels the same way she does.

It was that day that the Barton household was never going to be the same without their ray of sunshine.

Once Lila was old enough, Clint and Laura told her what happened to her older sister. Cooper finally understood why his father would not always try to lose his temper. Their family was struggling amidst everything as the police said there was nothing suspicious of his daughter's whereabouts.

But Clint and Laura never gave up, thinking that hopefully she'll come back home.