INT. S.H.I.E.L.D. FIELD OFFICE – NIGHT
The dim glow of computer monitors reflects off Natasha Romanoff's face as she types furiously, multiple surveillance feeds flickering across the screens. A high-level S.H.I.E.L.D. database flashes RESTRICTED ACCESS – CLEARANCE ALPHA REQUIRED.
Natasha leans back, frustration evident.
A fellow agent and her best friend, Clint Barton, steps in. "No luck on the last lead."
Natasha doesn't look up. "I'll find her. Come on, there's got to be something you missed."
She opens a secure communication line. Maria Hill appears on screen, brows furrowed.
Maria folded her arms and gave Natasha a sharp look. "You're pushing the limits of your clearance, Romanoff. What's going on?"
Natasha's voice was steady but edged with urgency. "I need every facial recognition hit from the last year—black hair, green eyes, mid-teens. Prioritize anyone with combat skills or ties to overseas agencies."
Maria raised an eyebrow. "That's... oddly specific."
Natasha's expression hardened. "Just run it."
Maria hesitated, then began typing. Lines of data scrolled until one file popped up with a yellow tag reading: PROBABLE MATCH – CLASSIFIED.
She clicked it open. Grainy footage from a D.C. alley filled the screen—one of several nearly identical clips from different cities and dates over the last two years. Each showed Elena, suited up, taking down people with frightening precision before melting into the shadows. In this instance, a shadowy figure handed her an envelope—Valentina.
Maria glanced back at Natasha. "Whoever she is, she's protected. The file's been locked by another agency. No name, no history—just a codename: Shadowstrike."
Natasha's jaw tightened. "That's not an alias. That's my daughter."
The feed froze on Elena's face mid-motion, fierce and unflinching. Natasha stared at it for a long moment before starting to pull every possible trace.
She murmured to herself, "I'm going to find you... before they do."
Fury meets her gaze with steady resolve. "We'll track her down, Natasha. You have my word."
INT. BACKSTAGE OF THE PTA MEETING
Finn looks uneasy. "Wait, we have to wear mascara?"
Ken answers matter-of-factly. "Sandy says it makes our eyes pop."
Finn sighs. "Okay."
Puck grins. "There's a lot of moms out there, right?"
Will tries to keep them focused. "Don't worry about it, guys. Just get in the zone. This is going to be fun. You'll remember this night for the rest of your lives."
Finn hesitates. "Mr. Schue..."
Will smiles knowingly. "I know, you're nervous."
Finn shakes his head. "No, I just... thanks. For believing in me."
Sandy bursts in, flustered. "He's here! Josh Groban is here! Front row, big brown eyes, cute as a buttermilk biscuit. I barfed."
Will's eyes widen. "Wait—he actually showed up? I can't believe it."
Sandy points dramatically. "Gentlemen, forget every dull moment of your lives. This is the most important thing you will ever do. Places!"
The Acafellas perform "I Wanna Sex You Up" to roaring applause.
INT. BACKSTAGE
Sandy corners Figgins. "I'd love to get into the recording studio, maybe play Wembley or Red Rocks..."
Josh Groban approaches with his bodyguard. "Hey, guys, I'm Josh Groban. Which one of you is Sandy?"
Sandy beams. "Mr. Groban, we're so honored—"
Josh cuts him off. "I came here to tell you... stop emailing me. This is a restraining order. Stop sending nude photos, stop calling me. I don't want any more edible gift baskets or locks of hair. And no more sonnets."
His bodyguard Flex shakes his head. "That stuff got crazy, dude."
Josh softens slightly. "By the way—great show. Explosive."
Will manages a sheepish "Thanks."
EXT. PARKING LOT OUTSIDE THE PTA MEETING
Terri approaches Will. "I'm sorry. I could have been more supportive. You guys were actually pretty good. And you were good. Really good."
Will's smile is small. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she confirms, leaning in to kiss him.
Mr. Schuester interrupts with a chuckle. "Don't bother. She's already pregnant."
INT. BACKSTAGE
Josh Groban addresses Mrs. Schuester. "You might be wondering why I'd come over here and talk to you. Throngs of teenagers don't do it for me. I love a blowsy alcoholic."
Mrs. Schuester belches. "You'll have to forgive me. I'm a little drunk, and I'm not making good choices right now."
EXT. PARKING LOT OUTSIDE THE PTA MEETING
Terri mutters to Will, "Maybe she slipped and hit her head again."
Mr. Schuester approaches Will warmly. "You guys kicked some serious tail up there tonight. Sorry about the Josh Groban thing."
Will shrugs. "It's all right. How are the other guys?"
Mr. Schuester chuckles. "Ryerson cried himself to sleep in Figgins' arms, Ken's raiding the nacho bar. What about you?"
Will exhales. "I'm good. This was a dream come true, but... I'm a teacher. And a good one. That's enough."
His father nods. "I saw how your students look at you. You inspire people—you inspired me. I'm going to law school. Night classes for now, but I registered yesterday. You made me realize it's never too late to grow a pair and go after your dream."
Will grins. "That's amazing, Dad. That's so amazing."
INT. KURT'S LOCKER
Mercedes walks up, looking apologetic. "Hey, Kurt. I'm sorry about what I did to your car. I'll pay to have it fixed."
Kurt shakes his head. "It's okay. My dad took my baby away after he found my tiara collection in my hope chest."
Mercedes offers a small smile. "I also hope things work out between you and Rachel. You'd have really cute, loud babies."
Kurt hesitates, then admits, "Mercedes, I lied. I don't like Rachel. I'm gay."
Mercedes frowns. "Why didn't you just tell me?"
"I've never told anyone before," Kurt says quietly.
"You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are," Mercedes encourages. "Tell people—especially the kids in glee. The whole point is expressing what's inside you."
Kurt sighs. "I can't. I'm just not that confident yet."
Elena, leaning casually against the lockers nearby, chimes in. "As a gay woman, I can tell you—you're definitely not into the ladies. But you've got a whole club of people who'll have your back when you're ready."
INT. SUE'S OFFICE
Sue folds her arms. "So the glee club got rid of Dakota Stanley, Mr. Schuester is back, and they're working on a new number—more confident than ever."
She turns to the girls. "That's what we call a total disaster. Smell your armpits—that's the scent of failure. You've lost your tanning privileges for the rest of the semester."
Santana gasps dramatically. "Oh no!"
Quinn steps forward. "Ms. Sylvester, thanks for teaching me something important. When you believe in yourself, you don't have to drag others down."
Elena moves closer to Santana and rests a hand on her arm. "Don't worry. You can use my tanning bed." Santana immediately pulls Elena into an over-the-top hug, sobbing against her shoulder. Elena, sweet and innocent, stands frozen with wide eyes, utterly confused about why she's suddenly become a human tissue.
INT. CHOIR ROOM
Will calls out instructions. "Step, ball change and head. Low and up. Low and high! What do you guys think?"
Rachel smiles. "It was really good, Mr. Schuester."
"Thank you," Will replies. "Okay, from the top!"
As the group resets, Elena quietly slips out, heading straight to the bathroom. She grips the sink, fighting off a wave of nausea—something that's been happening more often lately. Outside the bathroom, the Unholy Trinity exchange subtle glances, a flicker of suspicion in their eyes. They seem to be putting pieces together about Elena's condition, while Elena herself remains oblivious to what might be happening to her body.