The 100 Girls/Marvel Girls Oneshots

Gone

NATASHA ROMANOFF X READER

YOUR POV:

It was over. Everyone gone. Dusted. Vanished. Whatever word used to describe it didn't take away the pain. What had felt like a lifetime had only been a year. And I was coping.  Was I lying? I don't know. But it was an improvement from the early days. The days where the punching bag became my best friend, while my real best friend was off doing whatever she could to distract herself, which seemed to include not uttering a goddamn word to me. I mean it's not like I didn't know this would happen. It always does. Any problem, anytime something goes wrong, she just forgets about us. And I get it, "she's coping" but I honestly don't think she is. Maybe it's why it took me so long to cope.

Nat and I... we had history you know? Like every great friendship has. Was I sent to kill her but ended up being recruited by her? Absolutely. Before you get on my ass about the whole assassin thing, I was brainwashed, so it cancels out. BIDMAS- I'm a firm believer that BIDMAS, BODMAS, PEMDAS, whatever you call it, can be applied to absolutely every single situation, so here's proof of that. Anyways, I moved up on the ranks- being a trained spy and all-and eventually got recruited to become an Avenger. Natasha and I were as close as two ex-spies could be I suppose. I had 'evolved' in a way, I was comfortable with my feelings. Natasha, however, was not as comfortable. She had a hard time dealing with things, and most of the time we'd sort it out together. I was the only person she'd break her walls down for, and I don't know... a part of me felt special that she did that. And I guess that's how our friendship began to mean a little more than that to me. 

God knows I didn't mean for it to, but it just fucking happened. When she smiled at me it's like there were no longer any problems in the world anymore. And obviously, that scared me to shit. But I didn't run from it- mostly because there wasn't anything to run from. Natasha was never interested in me that way and it was fine. 

And here I am now, a year after the Blip, standing outside the Compound like a lost fan. At 10 pm. I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it here, this was my home, not the shitty apartment I had right now. The chilly winter breeze created goosebumps on my skin as I rang the doorbell impatiently. 'Thank god, she's not here,'  I thought to myself, breathing a sigh of relief. I fumbled around in my bag, hoping to whatever gods that no one changed the locks. Luckily for me, the door swung right open. Why am I here? Oh because I need to do laundry. Simple. Why was I doing laundry at 10 pm? I live alone, what else do you want me to do? The once constantly bustling building had become a ghost of its former self. I passed the kitchen on the way to the laundry, testing out a theory of mine. I open the fridge slowly, hoping I'm not right. Shit. There's just about nothing in the fridge, half a dozen eggs, orange juice and some leftovers that look to be Thai food. I couldn't help but feel responsible for this... I was one of the only people she had left. I should've tried harder... But I did. I tried so hard, so maybe this isn't on me. I don't know. I just don't need that weight on my shoulders right now.

I begin loading my clothes into the washing machine before hearing the door creak open. Perks of being an ex-spy I guess- I hear just about everything. Was my time in the Red Room traumatic? Extremely. Do I occasionally appreciate how it saves my life? Yes. I grabbed the knives I had in my pockets and held them tightly in my hands. Who the fuck breaks into the Avengers Compound? And who the fuck coordinates their break-in to be on the day that I need to do my goddamn laundry? I moved slowly, hearing their footsteps become louder. I readied myself to attack, moving forwards to tackle the trespasser to the floor. I swung their waist onto the floor, pinning them down with one hand, using the other to hold the knife against their throat. Only as a ray of sun blazed through the window, I realised who was on the floor beneath me.

"Jesus Christ."

"Y/N??"

//////

"You should've known better to sneak up on an ex-Red Room Spy," I chide, trying lamely to make our conversation seem normal.