The Prisoner | Natasha x OC

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"Do you ever wonder how different your life would've been if that one thing never happened?"
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A few different POVs in this one x

23 July, 2016

Natasha's footsteps faltered slightly, God this room was cold. Her eyes adjusted to the dark and she managed to make out the shape under the covers.

But a slight-- and to most, unnoticeable-- movement had her freezing and shouting out. "It's me, it's me!"

Natara sat up then, turning over. She switched on a light next to her bed, slightly worried. "What the hell?" Her hand moved out from under the covers, revealing the dagger that would've been thrown in Natasha's direction had she not called out. The blonde placed the weapon down.

Natasha's eyes jumped along Tara's face and even down her neck. She took note of the sweat and dark eyebags. She'd bring it up later. "We've got a lead on Rumlow. We leave now, it's gonna a take a while."

"Where?"

Oh, but Natara was looking forward to kicking Rumlow's ass. She'd never met the insufferable bastard but she'd tried to find him after seeing the team was interested. She'd come up empty every time.

It was the first time such a thing had happened and she intended to make sure it was the last.

"Lagos."

Africa. Natara hadn't been there since she'd gotten out of Wakanda those years ago. Whatever face she'd been pulling, Nat picked up on it.

"We'll lay low."

The blonde's eyebrows drew together before she realized what Nat meant. "Oh...yeah."

Her mind being on multiple other things, the redhead didn't think anything of Tara's reply, simply shooting her a quick smile. "Team meets in less than ten, move your ass."

Natara muttered curses after her and her snarky comment, even continuing to do so once the door was closed and Nat was long gone.

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"Either keep them on or take them off. But stop fiddling." Natara spared another glance. "And stop tapping too."

"Sorry," Wanda apologized, letting go of her rings and squeezing her hands into fists before putting them on her lap. A few seconds of silence stretched out between the two, the rest of the jet filled with occasional whispers and beeping.

"Talk to me."

Wanda looked to her left, taking a few seconds to admire the assassin's side profile. She'd never noticed the few freckles that dusted Natara's cheeks and the light beauty spot on the right underside of her jaw. "I'm nervous." The Sokovian let out a breath, facing the front.

"Of?"

"It's my first mission."

Now it was Natara's turn to gaze at the woman beside her. "You were on Sokovia were you not?" Her eyes traced the witch's face, taking notice of her downward gaze. "Hey," She whispered, "look at me."

Wanda's head tilted up, eyes meeting the bottle green ones that stared intensely into her own, unwavering.

"You'll be fine. I'll be right there with you, okay?"