It was supposed to be a clean op.

The Thunderbolts were sent in to intercept a rogue arms trade happening in an abandoned shipyard outside Bucharest. Cold air. Fog. Cargo crates stacked like a maze. Yelena was already thirty feet up on the scaffolding. Ava ghosted ahead in flickers, eyes scanning shadows.

Bob stayed back in the surveillance van, chewing on a protein bar and muttering affirmations into the mic.

“I’m not technically ‘combat support,’” he reminded himself. “But I am emotionally supportive, and that counts.”

And for a while, it went smoothly. Until you showed up. They didn’t realize it was you at first.

A figure in black, fluid, fast, and deadly, dropped from a shipping container and dismantled the first group of traffickers before the Thunderbolts could even engage.

Ava blinked in her scope. “Uh. Did one of you… already take out Crate Team Bravo?”

Yelena hissed into comms. “No. Who is that?”

Then you moved again. Clean strikes. Blinding efficiency. Within sixty seconds, four more targets down. Silent. Controlled.

John broke from cover and shouted, “Who the hell are you?!”

You didn’t respond. You threw a smoke bomb instead. Big mistake. It was instinct. No one had time to think. Bucky lunged first, misjudging your approach. You deflected, barely. The clash of metal-on-blade rang out in the night air.

Ava phased behind you and tried to catch you off-guard, and got flipped onto the gravel for her trouble. She groaned and called you something under her breath that probably wasn’t a compliment.

Bucky was the first to notice something felt… off.

“Wait,” he muttered, dodging a roundhouse. “You’re not aiming to kill.”

“No,” you said, voice modulated, strained through your mask. “Neither are you.”

Yelena halted, breathing hard, daggers in hand. A long pause. Everyone frozen.

From the van, Bob’s voice came through comms, voice shaky.

“Uh… okay, so— I just checked the facial recognition scans, and guys? That’s the vigilante from the news.”

A moment of silence.

“Oh,” Yelena said brightly. “Oops.”

John dusted off his sleeve and muttered, “Well, someone could’ve led with that.”

“You tried to tackle them before they could even talk,” Ava deadpanned.

Bob poked his head out of the van door and waved nervously. “Hi! Big fan! Sorry we tried to collectively mug you!”

You didn’t lower your stance just yet. “Why are you here?”

“Government contract. Same target. Didn’t know someone else was playing hero tonight,” Bucky said.

“I’m not a hero,” you said flatly.

Yelena shrugged. “Same. That’s why you’d fit right in.”

You tilted your head.

“What?”

Yelena gestured broadly to the strange, ragtag group around her.

“We’re the Thunderbolts. Not exactly the Avengers. Not exactly… sane. But we do good things. With morally questionable methods. And way too much paperwork.”

“You also have Bob,” Bob added helpfully. “I bring snacks.”

You eyed Bucky, who shrugged like he was just as surprised they were asking.

“You’re efficient,” he said. “You don’t kill unless you have to. You think before you act. That’s rare.”

Ava crossed her arms, still catching her breath. “And if you’re already taking down this many operations on your own… imagine what you could do with backup.”

You were quiet for a long moment.

“What would I get out of it?” you asked.

“People who’ve got your back. And a chance to change the rules, not just play outside them,” Yelena said hesitantly.

Bob cleared his throat. “Also dental. I think.”

You stared at them, these broken, chaotic almost-heroes, all bracing themselves like you might say no. Then you looked down at the unconscious traffickers behind you, contemplating.