Never Alone Again |N.R|

Why can't you leave me alone?

Natasha was shouting after me, wanting me to wait before I escaped into my room, but I didn't want to talk. And I definitely didn't want her seeing me like this. She was worried enough already and I didn't want her keeping an even closer eye on me than she already did. But before I could reach the door to my room she caught up to me, stopping directly in my path and forcing me to stay where I was.

"Rue, are you okay? I know you're a little shocked by what Director Fury said." I kept my eyes down, hiding beneath my hood still.

"I'm fine, don't worry"

"Well if that's the case, can you please look up at me? Take the hood down?" I wished I could just disappear. There was no way she was going to let me walk away without knowing I was okay, but I didn't look okay.

"Honestly Natasha, I'm fine." She still stood there expectantly, disregarding my lie and waiting for me to reveal my face. So I slowly pulled the hood off of my head, grateful now that I'd neatened my hair so that it didn't look so messy. I raised my chin slightly, still maintaining a low gaze.

"Look at me." She wasn't giving up, so in defeat I raised my eyes to meet hers and I could instantly see the pity on her face. It was only there for a split second but I'd caught it, and I hated it. It was now replaced with a stoic smirk, as if she was trying to convince me that I didn't look that bad but her mind was fraught with worry.

"Come on lets get a plaster on that cut, it needs to be kept covered for a while." Natasha led me down the corridor to her room and pushed the door open, inviting me inside. She motioned for me to sit on the bed whilst she went and grabbed the first aid kit but I just stood in the doorway awkwardly. I felt like I was imposing.

"Rue please, you don't need to worry. Come and sit here and I'll quickly put a plaster over the stitches." I sheepishly made my way over to the bed, questioning myself for a couple of seconds before sitting down beside her. She had one leg dangling over the edge and another tucked up in front of her so that she could face me. With light fingers she opened a plaster and carefully placed it over the wound on my forehead. It felt nice to have someone care for me, but it still didn't feel right. Relying on others made me feel weak, vulnerable.

"You look tired Rue. I thought I'd heard you crying last night as I passed your room." I looked into her eyes, so desperately wanting to tell her how terrified I was but no words came out. However, she must've seen the desperation in my eyes as she continued on.

"I have nightmares too, lots of us here do. You don't need to hide that from me, you can talk to me about it and I promise it'll stay between us." I didn't know whether to trust Natasha or not, so instead of replying with silence I decided to tell her part of the truth.

"I had a bit of a nightmare, but it wasn't bad." My lie was so evident, not only did my voice shake but the glassy look of my eyes and the dark bags beneath them told the truth. The nightmare I had shook me awake, and the thought of falling asleep again was equally as terrifying as the images my mind had created. Except what made it scarier than any previous nightmares was the fact it felt real, like I'd actually been in the position of pointing a gun at someone's head before.

"I'm glad you feel like you can tell me. Remember, if you have another one don't be afraid to come to my room. Wake me if you have to. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Okay, and thank you." I gave Natasha a nod as I rose to my feet, ready to head back to my room and hide myself away.

"Of course Rue. Now go and get some rest." If only it was that easy.

(-)

I had stayed in my room for the rest of the day, not even leaving for dinner. But no one had come to disturb me, Natasha probably told them to leave me be. I liked her, felt safe with her.
The sun had set an hour ago or so, and other than the city lights, I was in darkness. My body ached for sleep but my mind was so desperate to avoid it. I couldn't bare the thought of another bad dream, let alone one as vivid as the last.