Marvel One-Shots

Almost

Natasha Romanoff and Female Reader

The Red Room had moulded you both into killer assassins, bilingual spies and murderous villains. Two young and tortured women gripped by the vicious hands of those who take advantage of the vulnerable. Before the facility, both of you were too weak to fight back or to make any other decision- it was The Red Room... or death.

Being young girls at the time, you didn't truly understand the extent of the organisation you were getting yourselves into. You were violently sucked into the vacuum of the operation when you were children- afraid, helpless and unknowing of the dangers of society.

When the director approached you both, you were quick to say no and tried to persuade Nat in making the same decision. But to no avail, she was recruited (honestly, she didn't have much of a say in the commitment) and began to pack her stuff to move away from you.

Your childish heart broke as you saw her shove all her clothing into one small suitcase, her skinny arms struggling to zip the bag up. Tears gathered in the seam of your eyes as she prepared to leave and once she finally managed to shut the bag, the drops spilt over and washed over your cheeks.

"Please don't leave me Nattie." You begged as you looked up at her from your position on her mattress. The Cinderella costume bunching around your thighs as you moved closer to the edge of the bed- anything to be closer to your best friend.

"I have to go, y/n. I want to. But I promise I will come back to you one day. When I've made a lot of money and I live in a big house." She vowed, her mature nature peeking through the barrier of her youthful voice. The conversation of your future lives was a regular conversation between the two of you, trying to manifest the possibility of, one day, being able to escape this deprived area.

"Aren't you scared, Nattie? Of leaving Stalingrad?" You questioned, wanting to convince her to stay but not having it in your tender heart to take her dreams away. Sometimes, the thought of leaving your hometown was daunting, and you thought it better to stay with your parents- in the comfort and warmth of their small apartment.

But Nat? She had wanted to leave since the day she landed in the godforsaken village. It was as if it was ingrained in her DNA to fight back and put up a front (a quality of hers in which you admired and wish you could steal). She protected you and loved you. Being her one and only friend meant that her whole attention was yours, and you savoured it and were careful to never abuse it.

Now it had shifted, from you to The Red Room. You felt fury bubbling in the pit of your stomach at the institution for robbing you of the one person you could connect with- she used to be your person, and now she was theirs.

When the sound of a carn horn blasted through the desolate street outside, Nat glanced through the window and grimaced. They were here to take her away and these were the last few minutes you had with her.

Deciding to use actions instead of words to convey your message, you stood to your full height and smothered Nattie in your arms with a tight grip on her shoulders. With an equally forceful squeeze, she wrapped you up in her embrace and held you for a moment.

"I'll come with you, Nattie. I don't want you to go on your own."

If it wasn't for you hopping on that bus with her, and ignoring the distressed calls of your parents as they witnessed you drive off, you might have lost her. But instead, you had her safely tucked under your arm- almost.

-----

Blood.

A sight you never liked to see. Especially when Nattie was involved.