To Go Unseen (A Natasha Romanoff Story)

55 [hotel room]

The next day, Natasha was released from the hospital and Steve and Clint got on a plane to leave and James was quiet. Natasha kept looking at him, kept thinking about her conversation with Clint and she didn’t want to see James fade. She didn’t want to watch herself push him away anymore, but she didn’t know how to open up. She remembered telling Clint ‘no questions’ and seeing the darkness fall inside his eyes when he asked if that was the answer to his question anyway.

What went wrong?

No questions.

Natasha felt sick fear in the pit of her stomach as the implications of this realization washed over her.

No one likes being a mystery. That’s who the Black Widow was, she was a ghost and she was an empty face to put masks over and she was the kind of woman who everyone knew about, but no one really knew. Natasha didn’t like it. She didn’t like being alone, but she couldn’t just stop being the Black Widow. She would never do that. It was the only identity she knew.

“I was thinking we could rent another car,” James said to her once he got her back to the hotel. She didn’t need a lot of help-after all, she’d only suffered a broken nose and splintered wrist in addition to the bruises. She could walk, but James had his hands on her and was leading her anyway. He was excessively gentle with one arm around her waist, his fingertips barely grazing her as though he were afraid if he really touched her, she’d collapse or disappear. “Go somewhere else, keep moving until we come up with another plan.”

“Sure,” Natasha replied, and would have reached around him to put her arm on him as well, but he was on her right side with her splintered wrist, so instead, he reached up and took her hand gently with his free one. “You know, you don’t have so gentle. I’m not fragile.” She remembered a small set of porcelain ballerina figurines she kept at home, and how James had almost dropped one once. The look on his face as he’d thrust it back into her hands, so apologetic, so ashamed. “I’m not made out of porcelain.” She looked up into James’ face and he seemed to be considering something to say next and she added, “I’m not going anywhere.” His eyes shifted and met hers, and then he looked away again, back at the ground, and his fingers around hers tightened almost imperceptibly.

“I know,” he said, but he was a bad liar, as usual, and his voice caught. She didn’t know what to say, and so she just looked ahead and said nothing.

Later that evening, a heavy silence and a thick tension had settled over them both and Natasha didn’t know what had happened. She kept looking at James and thinking that she was going to have to try to be open with him, tell him everything she’d never told anyone before, and it scared her.

“Where do you want to go?” James asked her, pulling her from her thoughts and she looked over at him from where she was seated on the hotel bed. I want to go home, she thought. I want to sleep in my own bed again. I want this whole nightmare to be over.

“I don’t care,” she said.

“Steve suggested Alaska earlier,” James started to say and Natasha cut him off, making a face.

“Oh, not Alaska,” she said.

“I thought you said you didn’t care,” James replied.

“I don’t care!” She cried in return, probably sounding like she cared very much. “But just, not Alaska.”

“Alright, fine,” He said. “Why?”

“Does it matter?” She asked, feeling more and more irritable the more he tried to be friendly and accomodating. How dare he be so kind and perfect?

“I guess not,” James said, shrinking back a little. “Just, I dunno, making conversation. Didn’t mean to step on Black Widow trademark secrets.” Oh, now he was going to be sassy??

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Natasha said.

“I didn’t mean anything,” James said. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

“Yeah, it did,” Natasha replied angrily and they lapsed into silence. James turned back around in his chair and stared at the desk. She heard him let out a small breath.

“What about, uh, California?” He said after a while.

“Quit asking me, just pick already,” Natasha snapped and she regretted it as soon as she saw his shoulders slump, but she’d been regretting this entire conversation the minute it started. She wished she could stop making biting remarks and sounding mean, but the fear inside her jumped up her throat and clawed as soon as it saw an opportunity. She was just afraid, she thought.

I just know… I know I’m going to have to give up portions of myself. Stop being the mysterious Black Widow and start being just Natasha and I’m not sure I know who that is.

“Okay, I got us plane tickets for tomorrow,” James said and he twisted the chair around and looked at her. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Natasha said, but James was still looking at her.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked.

“No,” she said.

“You don’t seem very happy,” he said.

“Why would I be happy,” she replied and he shrugged.

“I guess you have a point,” he admitted. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No,” Natasha said, and the rest of the evening was spent in terse quiet, the TV on and muted and Natasha staring up at the ceiling. And when James turned out the lights and and joined her in bed, she watched him curl up next to her and doze off and she studied the angles of his face.