Valentina was waiting at SHIELD Medical when Sammy was escorted in and treated for a flesh wound. Her reflexes were good. A bullet had put a furrow in her upper arm. It bled, but it wasn't serious. Eight stitches, and she'd have a thin scar to show for her first mission with SHIELD. It said something that she was proud of her stitches, even with Mom shaking her head over it.
Mom got a private briefing, and Sammy asked her to call and check on the younger daughter. She figured the inquiry would sound better coming from the contessa than from plain Sam Fury. Not many people refused to take a call from Lady SHIELD.
Sammy was dropped off by a SHIELD car at the Avengers mansion and despite the painkillers, she practically bounced into the house with Agent Calderon's "Good job" still ringing in her ears.
The interviews seemed to go on forever, even with having little to say when asked about Anya's last movements as Sammy remembered them. She liked Anya, but she hadn't kept tabs on the girl.
She spoke of the museum disaster. The birthday ball. The snatches of conversation in between rushing around attending to daily life. The Saturday training sessions. Wracked her brain for every scrap of information.
Then went over it all again.
And then again.
When she was finally released with a reminder not to leave the mansion, or not alone if she had the need, Sammy made her way slowly to her room. By the door was a stack of folded packing boxes. A reminder that life was trying to go on. The stack seemed like a rebuke for even considering the possibility of being happy while her best friend and his mother were in utter hell right now.
She left the stack and went into her room, shutting the door quietly behind her. Kicking off her shoes, she curled up in the easy chair in the corner and let her mind go blank.