The piece of gum
“Tasha wait,” Maria called out to the woman who was already at the door, “Natasha. Please.”
But it was too late, the woman was gone and Maria had a traumatized child on her hands. A child who was now sitting with her hands in her lap and her head hung, tears falling onto the sheet below her.
“We’re not the Red Room,” the Commander tried to explain, “we aren’t going to do anything the Red Room did. You’re safe here, Elizaveta.”
The child continued to keep her head down, Maria was way out of her league and regretted ever making fun of Phil for the parenting books.
“You’re safe… um… Bezopasno ,” she wracked her brain for words in Russian, “net plokho. Net … Red Room?”
The brunette looked at her watch, Phil would be back in five hours, the child wasn’t supposed to be awake for another eight. She held off on pressing the call button, it was 6am and the doctors would be back through in the next hour to do morning rounds. She could keep everything under control until then.
“Breakfast?” Maria looked at the child who continued to stay shockingly still, “I bet we could get someone to bring us french toast.”
She pulled out her phone, narrating everything she did so that the child knew that she wasn’t a threat. Or at least that’s what she told herself as she tried to remember the Russian word for chocolate milk.
“Let’s see, there's not a ton of options for delivery on a Wednesday morning,” she sent off a quick text to Natasha to let her know she was there for her, “and I’m partial to french toast, but that doesn't mean that you have to have it.”
The child glanced up to watch Maria as she walked over to the chair where her tablet was still sitting. She picked it up and opened up the cafeteria menu that had pictures of the items.
“Can I sit with you?” she crouched down until she was eye-level with the child, “Just so I can show you the items and you can pick out what you want to… yest '? Is it yest' ? Eat?”
She mimed eating, catching the eye of the child who shook her head ever so slightly.
“No that’s not how you say eat, or no you don't want me sitting with you?” the commander kicked herself for not knowing more words.
Elizaveta shook her head again.
“Okay, how about I pull the chair over here and we look at the options together?” she waited for any acceptance of the new plan.
Slowly the child raised her head, showing her face that still had a fine layer of grime on it, creating perfect track lines from where tears had fallen. She looked at Maria and then at the tablet then back to Maria.
“No, bed,” her voice was quiet, her accent thick.
“Got it, no bed. Bed is all yours, your space,” Maria wanted the child to know that no one would come into her space without being allowed.
She couldn’t bring herself to imagine the horror that the child had gone through on beds, or with an invasion of her own space. The chair was close but she still scooted it closer until the armrest hit the rail of the bed.
“Now again, I’m partial to french toast, but there are other options,” she looked at the child who was staring at the screen, her feeding tube laying slack on her face, “Let’s see we have a breakfast sandwich… buterbrod ?”
She was pretty sure she got the word wrong and that the child did in fact speak English even if it was broken, but still she continued to try.
“Or let’s see,” the brunette scrolled further down, “um pancakes, are you a pancake fan? Or oatmeal.”
The green-eyed child simply stared back, not making any indication of what she wanted to eat. The commander understood the frustration that Phil had felt the day before when he was trying to force a sandwich on the girl.
“Alright well, how about I get a few things and we go from there?” again the child did nothing.
The woman pulled out her phone and dialed the extension for the cafeteria. In the end, she ordered oatmeal, french toast, and a few sides. The two stared at each other awkwardly until there was a knock at the door which sent the child reeling back in fear until she almost fell out of the bed.
“You’re okay, it's just the food” Maria got up and swiped her card to unlock the door, the food was on a tray on the floor and still had steam coming off of it, “I mean, it’s not iHOP but still it smells pretty good right?”
She walked back over to the table in the room, pretending not to notice that the girl was still huddled in the corner of the bed. She was tiny but looked even smaller in the bed that was sized for adults.
“So this is french toast,” the commander unsheathed a tray with four perfect pieces, “you can put syrup on it. Phil might think that’s too much sugar though.”
The girl eyed the food suspiciously.
“And then these are the potatoes I was telling you about. Hashbrowns are what they’re called.”
The older woman paused and realized that she was not only having a conversation with a five-year-old, but she was also having a conversation with a five-year-old who may not actually understand what she was saying. Still, she carried on, not knowing what else to do.
“I also got some fruit, that seems healthy. And then this last one is oatmeal, I think you could throw some of those blueberries in it, that might be good.”
The last item was the only thing the child was paying attention to. It seemed that she was a fan of oatmeal, or at least it was the least intimidating.
“How about I leave this right here,” she placed the bowl and spoon on the rolling desk that fit over the top of the hospital bed, “and you try it out.”
Like the day before, the girl moved like a repelling magnet when the rolling desk crept closer to her spot on the bed. The Deputy Director inched it closer until the food was at arm's length before returning back to her food on the table in front of her.
“And if you want any of this, I’ll bring it over to you,” she cut a piece of french toast and popped it in her mouth.
The woman had finished most of her food by the time the child reached up and placed a spoon full of oatmeal in her mouth. Maria kept her head focused on the tablet in front of her, she had been looking over mission reports when she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. She continued to finish her meal and type up a mission strategy for an operation that was going to take place in the next month.
The child was careful to not let the spoon hit the bowl, remaining mostly silent as she took a few more bites. By the time the doctors had knocked on the door, half of the bowl had been finished. Maria took it as a win.
“Good morning Commander- oh hi Elizaveta!” The male doctor once again spoke too loudly and paid for it by having a rolling desk come flying at his thighs.
He groaned as it made contact, causing the female doctor to laugh, “We weren’t expecting you to be awake so early. Well, we were after the blood test but…” she trailed and moved her hand in the air.
“You have the results?” the deputy director pulled up the notes section on her tablet once again.
“We do, and we can go more in-depth with Agent Coulson, but we wanted to start her on medication and felt like we should tell you what’s going on,” the male doctor stood back upright and kept his distance.
The girl's eyes closed tightly at the mention of medication and she was now crammed under Maria’s legs under the desk. This wouldn't have been a huge problem if she wasn't connected to an IV, feeding tube, and monitor leads. All of the items tried to go through the portal with her but were stuck in the opening that was still only large enough for the child.
“Hey,” the brunette leaned down to see the child who was now stuck, the cables and portal above her trying to pull her back through, “you have to go back on the bed. You’re caught.”
The child tried to kick at the commander, making contact a few times before her scared eyes landed on the portal. She looked almost as scared as she did the day they found her in the office.
“You gotta, ouch, no don’t kick,” Maria swung her legs out to give the child more room, “can you give us a minute?” she looked at the doctors who nodded and exited the room.
She put her hand under the desk and tried to guide the child back through. The girl flinched violently and in an attempt to escape, fell back through the portal. It wasn’t how she wanted it to happen but at least there wasn’t a tangle of cords and medical equipment under the table any longer.
“Okay so you got scared because of the medicine yeah?” she looked at the child who had once again pulled the sheets tight until only her eyes were visible, “I can see why that would be scary. But we don’t actually know what they are for.”
“No sleep,” her voice was stronger than Maria had heard it previously, still tiny, but fierce.
“Okay got it, no sleeping meds or meds that make you sleep. That seems like a responsible request,” she made eye contact and nodded with the doctors who were still watching from behind the sliding door.
“So like I was saying to you and Elizaveta, we got the results back. Her metabolism is burning through everything in her system, including sedatives and everything else we have given her. Because of that, we want to start her on a metabolism stabilizer and an antiepileptic,” the male doctor was explaining as he walked into the room.
“Normally, antiepileptics are used to treat seizures but we're going to try and use them for the prevention of weight loss,” the female doctor explained as Maria typed it all out.
“I thought that’s what the feeding tube was for?” she watched as the male doctor got closer, medication in hand.
“Well it is, but her blood tests came back showing that her metabolism levels are about three times what they should be. She’s burning through food before she has time to ingest it, most likely because of her party trick,” he explained as he approached the bed.
“We’re going to continue tube feeding until she reaches a better weight, but these will help her keep the weight on,” the female doctor explained, “speaking of, we need to add more formula by the looks of it. Great job with eating though little lady!”
The girl eyed the male physician who had gotten within arm's length of the bed. She waited until he leaned in closely to fix her feeding tube that still hung on her face before she reached out and scratched at him. A long red line now present on his chin, just below his ear.
“Ah,” he pulled back, “she’s like a little…”
“Bear,” Maria confirmed with a nod.
“Yeah, like a little bear,” he rubbed at the scratch marks.
“You have to let her know what you’re doing, you can't just reach over her like that,” the deputy director explained before looking at the female doctor, “will this medication make her drowsy, sleepy?”
The little girl's eyes locked on the female who was still by the door.
“With the dosage, we’re giving her? It would be doubtful. But if that’s a concern we can try it out and then reevaluate,” she shook a new bottle of feeding tube formula.
“No sleep,” Maria looked at the girl who nodded ever so slightly.
“Okay, I’m going to add it to your formula in this bag up here,” the male doctor narrated his movements, “and I’m going to put another piece of tape over your tube so it doesn't fall.”
Elizaveta shook her head and looked at the woman next to her.
“The tape will help so it doesn't fall like this,” Maria tried to explain, “tape will keep the tube ostanovka. ”
The curly-haired child narrowed her eyes and watched as the man pulled a roll of medical tape from his white coat and tore off a piece. He tucked the tube back around her ear and placed the tape on her cheek.
“See, all done,” he held his hands out in front of him, “now Dr. Carter is just going to add some more formula and we'll be out of your hair.”
The female doctor walked over and added more to the bag, keeping a distance and narrating everything she did. The child watched her but seemed to find comfort in knowing that she was being told what was happening.
“Okay, you should be set for the next few hours, little one,” Dr. Carter smiled and waved to the girl who just blinked.
“Agent Coulson will be back around 11 if you want to come and give him a more in-depth account of what’s going on,” the Commander looked at her watch, a little less than four hours and she would be back to her regular job.
“We’ll be back at 11 then. Thank you, deputy director,” the woman smiled and exited the room.
Maria looked at the child who touched the tube on her face gently before putting her hands back in her lap when she made eye contact with the brunette.
“It’s for food, it’s so you can eat without eating,” she tried to explain.
The girl eyed the half-eaten bowl of oatmeal on the desk that was close to the door now.
“I know but it’s so that you don't have to keep eating, it’s like double eating,” she informed, “you still have to eat both ways.”
They continued to stare at each other, unsure of what exactly was making it through the language barrier. But there were no tears, no blood, and half a bowl of oatmeal had been eaten. It was a step in the right direction.
She watched as the child slid further down into the bed, her eyes heavy with sleep even as she tried to fight it off. Between the remaining sedative in her system, and the teleportation that had gone haywire, the child was once again tired to the point of exhaustion. Maria watched as her eyes opened less frequently, and her breathing evened out.
Her phone buzzed and she instinctively pulled it out, expecting it to be Fury or Phil, checking in. Instead, it was a text from Natasha.
Nat: Sorry about that, lot to process but I’m better now. Still in the med bay?
Maria: no worries, glad you’re okay. Yes until 11.
Nat: I’ll swing by when you’re done.
And the commander found herself with a small smile on her face.
“It’s a turkey sandwich,” Maria bit into her own, “I know that it’s not the best but come on, you should at least try it.”
The girl continued to stare at the food in front of her, just as she had for the last fifteen minutes.
The two of them had been in a stalemate ever since the child woke up to the knocking on the door when lunch had come around. Turkey sandwiches and chips were placed neatly on two plates, one of which remained untouched.
“What about chips then?” Maria popped one in her mouth and nodded for the girl to do the same. She did not. “What about this.”
She stood up and walked over to the rolling table that she had moved back into its original space to the displeasure of Elizaveta. Her hand’s unwrapped the sandwich and deconstructed it quickly.
“Now it’s just meat and bread and cheese, that's not so bad huh?”
Little hands hesitated before they found their way onto the tabletop and pulled a single slice of bread into her lap. She took a small bite before looking at the woman next to her who smiled and nodded.
“See, bread is good no matter where you’re from-” the commander paused.
The conversation from the day before suddenly hit her, Natasha had explained that growing up she didn't eat sandwiches, she ate stew and bread. She looked down at the child who had eaten half of the top slice of bread before stopping as soon as she noticed Maria staring.
“Cafeteria, this is Beth,” the woman answered the phone.
Maria sighed in relief, Beth was one of the good ones who had been on the carrier for years. If anyone was going to try and make a special request happen, it was her.
“Hi, Beth, this is Deputy Director Hill, I was wondering if I could put in a special request for stew,” she waited for the woman to respond.
“Stew, hmm I don’t see why that would be a problem but let me double-check with the staff,” she placed the phone down for a moment and the brunette waited until she heard the noise of it being picked back up, “is there a specific type of stew you had in mind?”
“Beef? Is that an option?” she tried to think of what the most common stew would be for the child, “cabbage?” that one felt right.
“Beef is something we can do, we should have a pot in the next few hours,” the woman’s voice was warm and comforting.
“You’re the best, thanks Beth,” she hung up the phone and looked at the child in front of her.
“Okay, so now we at least have dinner figured out,” she sat back in the chair and looked at her tablet. Phil was scheduled to touch down any minute, “Juice?”
The child gave a small nod as she continued to eat her slice of bread. Maria stabbed a box of apple juice and reached over to place it on the rolling desk.
“Is apple juice your favorite? Or is it just what we have been giving you?” The commander looked at the child who brought the straw to her lips and sucked down the liquid.
Elizaveta made no effort to show any acknowledgment and continued to eat her slice of bread. Her bottom teeth were missing and it showed as she continuously bit down on the carb, leaving an extra piece right in the center. She had just started to reach for the second piece as the sound of the swipe access sounded and the door slid open.
Both Phil and Melinda looked nervous as they stepped into the room, both carrying a few bags.
“Hi Elizaveta,” the handler smiled softly as he walked towards the bed.
“We were just finishing up eating slices of bread,” Maria spoke up as the couple placed the bags by the table she was sitting at.
“Bread huh? That sounds great,” Phil gave a thumbs up.
The girl watched them both carefully, spending more time on the woman who still had yet to speak.
“Oh yeah, between that and the juice it’s a real party,” the deputy director finished her own sandwich and motioned to May, “this is one of my friends Melinda.”
“Room?” The girl's voice was guarded and took both Phil and May by surprise.
“Nope, no one here is from the Red Room, we don't work with them,” Maria kept her voice light even as she discussed something serious.
“Muffin,” the girl spoke up again.
All of the adults shared glances, Phil was the first to ask, “you want us to get you a muffin? We can do that.”
The girl gave a small shake of her head and looked at Maria, “room, muffin.”
The brunette wracked her brain to try and figure out what the child meant. They hadn’t had muffins, she hadn’t had one since-
“Natasha isn’t from the Red Room, well.. no she is,” she looked at the other two adults, “she grew up and trained as a widow but she works here now. I promise you, she is the last person to be connected to them. I know it was scary when she talked to you this morning, but she’s not part of the Red Room.”
The girl eyed her cautiously before reaching for the piece of bread again and taking a small bite. Maria looked over at her friends who looked confused as they stared between each other and the child. She felt her phone buzz and looked down, it was Fury.
“Hi, sir,” she walked towards the door and listened to him ask for information, “yep, be there soon.”
The girl looked scared as the Commander stayed by the door.
“I have to run, but I’ll come by tonight. Let me know if you guys need anything but I also documented most of it on the shared drive,” she tried not to feel her heartbreak as Elizaveta stared at her, big green eyes that looked so sad, “I’ll be back little bear, I promise.”
“Thank you again, Ria,” Phil looked almost as nervous as the child.
“No problem, good luck.”
The door unlocked and slid open, revealing a redhead that had positioned herself just out of sight.
“Fury needs me,” she looked down to the woman on her right, “walk and talk?”
“Can do.”
“Scale of 1 to 10 how are you feeling right now, ten being the first time you had coffee, one being that one time Barton hit you in the face with the bow staff?” The brunette tried to make the Russian feel a little better as they continued to walk.
“Like a 4 maybe,” her voice was low as she spoke, “god, I forgot about the bow staff incident, I thought I was going to murder him.”
“I thought you were too, anything I can do to help?” They were approaching the bridge now.
“Angry sex, my bunk 10pm?” the redhead purred out the request and watched as Maria swiped her card to open up the door.
“I’ll be there,” the Commander kept walking without turning around, she knew if she had, the Russian would have made fun of her for the blush on her face.
She made her way over to the control panel that Fury was standing behind and glanced over his shoulder. They were on course from the Eastern seaboard back to Europe, a more neutral location while they searched for Loki.
“So I’ll take it Stark is on board, sir?” the brunette concluded.
“In a physical sense, no. He will be in the next 30 minutes. In a metaphorical sense, yes. He decided the initiative works with his schedule,” the Director sighed, “If I ever turn into a diva like that, I trust you to tell me, Hill.”
She looked at the man next to her as he flipped his coat to the side and put his hands on his hips, “well then, sir, I think there's something I have to tell you.”
“Save it, I’m not a diva,” the one-eyed man now stared her in the face, “I need you down here as the Director while I keep the cats from killing each other.”
“Yes, sir,” she knew she now had 30 minutes to get everything done that would need to be completed in the next few days. The bridge would become her bunk, cafeteria, and church.
“The current plans are already in your inbox for your eyes only, clear?” he began walking back to his office.
“Crystal,” the second in command, opened her tablet and confirmed that she had the coordinates and projected plans for the next few days.
She returned to her office and opened up the drawers of her desk to make sure she had everything she needed. Her bottom drawer had a pillow and blanket, her second drawer had granola bars and enough ground coffee to kill a man, and her top drawer had all of her pens and packs of gum. She was ready to be here for the long run.
The gum in her mouth suddenly felt tough and void of all minty flavor, she spit it out and opened the top drawer again. Her hands opened the pack of gum and pulled out a piece, tearing it in half and placing one half in her mouth.
She had a bad habit of clenching her jaw under stress, something that her grandmother had noticed first, followed by her dentist when the clenching started to cause damage to her teeth. Her Abuela would take a piece of gum and tear it in half, giving half to Maria and half for herself. Even though her grandmother had been dead for years, she still found herself only eating half a piece at a time.
“Can I have the other half?” The voice came from inside the vent.
Without looking she threw the other piece up towards the vent cover that opened just in time. A hand emerged to snag it before it fell back down.
“I have a door, Barton,” she placed the pack back in the top drawer and slid it closed.
“But then I’d run the risk of,” he dropped onto the floor, “running into Fury and him asking me why I’m not in the conference room with the others, waiting for the billionaire.”
“And you think I won't ask you that?” the Commander asked.
“No, you’re too stressed,” he chewed the gum and showed it between his teeth, “you’re already on your second piece.”
She sighed and started brewing a fresh pot of coffee, “I’m not stressed, I’m acting director for the next few days. Directors don’t get stressed, Barton.”
“Everyone gets stressed, ask our fine Russian friend,” he breathed out.
And there it was, the real reason the archer was in her office this afternoon.
“Worried about her?” Maria stopped what she was doing and gave the man on her couch, her full attention.
“Are you not?” The blonde questioned back.
“As a friend, I am. Should I be concerned as the Deputy Director?” She wanted to know just how worried the man was, and if Natasha should be pulled from missions until her head was back on straight.
“Not yet, but… I don't know Ria,” he tilted his head back, “If the Red Room is still around, she's going to take it down with or without our help. I don’t think she’s slept since the portal opened up.”
That would explain why Natasha walked into the hospital room that morning just after 5am looking as if she had already been awake for hours.
“Keep me updated, if I need to intervene I will.”
“No, because then she’s going to be mad that I told on her,” the man looked startled.
“I’ll just tell her a ‘source’ told me, don't worry. Now go on to your hero party,” she tilted her head up and nodded at the vent opening.
“Ugh, this is gonna suck,” he groaned and stood up.
“Embrace the suck,” the brunette echoed their shared military slogan.
She then watched as he pulled himself first onto a nearby filing cabinet, his boots stepping ever so slightly on the papers in a bin on top.
“CLINTON!” Maria scolded him as she saw the corner of a paper get creased.
“Sorry Commander!” he called back as he slid the vent cover back into place.
The room was filled with the sounds of brewing coffee and the warm aroma that came with it, serenity in the moments before the chaos. Maria compiled all items in her to-do list into a single spreadsheet categorized by importance level. By the time the coffee was done brewing and her shift as Director was about to start, she had finished two items.
The first was the easiest, if not the one that made her public enemy number one. She highlighted all requests for time off in the next two weeks and denied everyone. They were too close to finding the tesseract to lose any of the agents because of a “family gathering” or “travel plans”. It was a sure-fire way to cause everyone who had submitted a request (all 73 agents) to hate her behind her back for at least the next few days.
This was highlighted as she exited her office, coffee in hand, and was met with more tight-lipped faces than normal. It was a hard job, a job that caused her to not be liked by a number of agents, but someone had to do it. She normally got to play “mean cop/slightly meaner cop”, with Fury, but in his absence, she had to play both roles.
“Ma’am coordinates are set,” an agent called up to her as she stood at the helm of the carrier.
“Estimated arrival?”
“Six hours at current speed,” he answered her, staring until she nodded in approval.
She looked over the flight plan and the current weather patterns that they would be coming across. There would be turbulence around 1am but not enough to call in any extra precautions which were at least one good sign. The computer that she used in the center of the room warmed up slowly and she sipped at her coffee as she waited for it.
“Ma’am,” a slightly started agent called out, “we have an unknown aircraft approaching at Mach 8.”
“Acknowledged, do not engage,” she squinted at the tarmac outside, waiting for the suit to make an appearance.
A matter of seconds later, the distinctive gold and red armor glistened off the sunlight in a spectacular fashion.
“Showoff,” she muttered as the man landed in the classic ‘hero’ pose.
The room suddenly got louder as agents murmured to each other about Iron Man's appearance. She could already hear the gossip mill would have a field day about why Tony was on the carrier. It went on for another moment until the Commander glanced around the room, effectively quieting everyone. Power had its perks.