I use Yandex Translate instead of Google Translate. Sorry, if I get anything wrong.
Fun fact: I wrote this chapter the week I had the concussion. (The very bad headache) This is one of the longest chapters.
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Am I in your head Half as often as you're on my mind?
. . .
Budapest July 5, 2016
Everything is screaming at her to stop.
Her muscles clench as she pushes forward. It hurts to breathe. To walk. She doesn't have to look at her back and shoulders to know they are bruised. She struggles against the memories threatening to break through the barricade in her mind.
Yelena.
Mason told her the box had come from Budapest, and that's where she's going. Yelena had sent her the vials for a reason. Or otherwise, why would she send them to her?
Natasha shakes her head, subtly glancing around the train station. She takes note of all the faces around her, as her paranoia gets the best of her, swearing she can feel eyes watching her. She quickly moves throughout the crowd, hoping to get out of sight before she draws too much attention.
The redhead boards quietly, with her head down, while she hands her ticket to the agent. She tries not to focus on her stiff body and her steps drag the ground, as she makes her way to an empty roll. She releases a breath, struggling against the pull in her stomach.
Normally she would have dismissed the pain, focusing on the upcoming mission. Pain has always been a part of her life. She had to learn to push it away, physical or mental because if she didn't, she never would've had a chance to survive the hellhole she was born into. The red room is not a place for emotions.
Never has been. Never will be.
Natasha lets out a slow breath, hoping to take her mind off the dark thoughts running wild, but nothing she tries works. She only spirals further, her thoughts consumed by the depths of her mind. She feels a wave of anxiety wash over her, her breathing quickening.
Thoughts of Yelena pile together. Would she even want to see her? They haven't seen each other since Dimitri and Madame used them against each other.
They were caught sneaking food or supplies, she can't remember clearly, to each other. Normally, in that type of situation, the girls would have to fight to the death. There was no question to everyone else who would have won.
