𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏 ✘ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅

{2³} {JET PACK BLUES}

∆ {2³} {JET PACK BLUES} ∆

NATASHA AND VENUS had been sitting across from each other for quite a while now. Yet, not a single word had been exchanged between the two. Clint had said he was going to find Fury, and had suggested rather forcefully that it was time for them to have their chat.

Instead of being in the holding cell once again, as Venus had expected, they now sat in Natasha's room, which was a few corridors away from Venus' own. She had a small island in her kitchen area, with a few raised bar seats around it, which was the pair of them were perched. Venus found her attention drawn to the cracked grey leather she sat on, with holes on the seams and a few scratches here and there. She wasn't particularly interested in seats, she just wanted to avoid this, and clearly, so did Natasha. Though, her focus was on the patterned grip of her gun that lay on the worktop with its safety on, tracing her fingertips idly along the scratched lines as the stuffy silence continued. Venus had decided a few minutes in that she wasn't going to be the one to start this conversation. She'd never been one for long, emotional talks, and even when she allowed Natasha to help her in the Red Room, she'd only spoken the absolute bare minimum. More words had increased the likelihood of being heard, of being caught. Venus would do almost anything to avoid that room.

Natasha didn't want to be the first to say anything. After all, it would largely be about their childhood; something that Natasha had spent the last three years trying to forget. Venus being here had forced her to start to remember, but she knew that they were both secretly hoping that they could forget together. Leave their past life as it was; behind them. Then, maybe, they would both have a decent chance of moving forwards. But first, this needed to be sorted.

"I gave that to you." Venus' words were barely above a whisper, her golden eyes now fixed on the weapon on the countertop rather than the stool she sat on. Natasha was surprised that she'd said anything at all. When she registered what the woman had actually said, it snagged her thoughts from her surprise as her face pulled into a slight frown. She didn't remember that. She just remembered always having a preference for the weapon, which she'd assumed was because of the way it handled or because she'd been using it for so long. Now that she knew Venus had given it to her, she wondered if she'd kept it because she subconsciously recognised it and wanted something to hold onto her childhood friend with. If you could call their relationship friendship. They'd ended up stealing glances at each other that were a little too long, their comforting of each others' nightmares was just too effective, and those hours they'd spent in the back room with the record player and their melody singing through the still air had been slightly too magical.

"Maybe that's why I kept it so long," Natasha replied, her voice louder than Venus', but not by much as the woman's golden eyes slowly met her own. At least Venus wasn't as emotionless, as blank, as she had been so much lately. It made Natasha slightly uncomfortable how good at it she'd become. It was if she literally flipped a switch. She supposed that might change now. If anything, she hoped that it would. She missed the quiet moments that they would have, the quiet humming coming from them as the pair of them continued their favourite melody after an hour or two of peace and occasionally, dancing to the tune.

That had normally been Natasha. Venus hadn't ever been anywhere near as good as the redhead at the mandatory ballet they had to take place in. In fact, she'd barely passed many tests, and she guessed that they had looked past it because they were exactly what they wanted their 'graduates' to be. The thought made Natasha shift in her seat, moving her fingers from the gun to the ends of her hair, which she twirled around her finger as she continued to think.

She hadn't been like this when Natasha had left. She hadn't been so.. emotionless, so detached, so professional. So perfect for what the Red Room wanted all of them to be. Natasha had only left because she knew that Venus could look after herself, and she also knew that the woman wasn't completely under their control, whatever the Red Room wanted to think. She had been, initially. She had been when she was fresh out of the conditioning room, but over time, Natasha had seen the rebellious spark in her golden irises begin to grow. It wasn't ever as big as it had been, but it had still been there, no matter what went wrong, if they got caught acting remotely friendly to each other.