I promise a part 2 of 'I wish it was me too' soon! I've been busy, sorry ! Love you guys (:
What can you really do when you have pushed everyone away? Natasha didn't know.
Head in her knees, back against the boiler room wall. Fuck this, she was the Black Widow! So, why did she feel so much like an anxious little girl? She was crying, that's not like her. Hot warm tears stained her cheeks, dripping onto her shirt. she was rocking back and forth allowing the motion to soothe her. To allow her heart rate to settle down. Deep breaths. In and out. Just like that, in and out.
A fraction of light seeped into the small room, bouncing off of the copper pipes and onto the the locks of the red head. She sucked in a breath, she knew exactly who it was, she couldn't be caught like this, she'd never forgive herself.
"I'm sorry." came a quiet strained voice, Maria Hill was not used to apologies. The words "Yes Sir" drilled into her and the perfect posture and salute was what she was used to, but apologising? Absolutely not. No one had taught her that, not her father and not the marines. Of course, she'd scream that she was sorry when her father's boot collided with her stomach but she realised by the time she was nine years old that apologies mean nothing.
Natasha didn't reply and her position on the floor made her feel incredibly vulnerable, as if there were spiders crawling along her skin and biting into her flesh. This was not how it was supposed to go, but what could she do now? She shouldn't be receiving sympathy that she certainly does not deserve, after all, she caused this. Hell, she wanted this. To feel. To feel quite literally anything. Walking through the hallways of the Hellicarrier with absolutely no friends and feeling absolutely empty and numb to the core was driving her crazy. And Maria Hill changing this emotion every now and then was killing her. She needed stability. She needed to be angry, to be rageful. But she has no one to take that out on. Well, no one that deserved the wrath of Natasha Romanoff.
She could lie to herself, maybe Maria Hill was just the wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time but Natasha knew deep down she'd be lying. She purposefully looked for Agent Hill knowing she was going to start a fight. She craved it. Natasha wasn't too sure why, was it jealously, insecurity, resentment? No, it was something much worse: Adoration. Love?
Romanoff had never felt that before, not for anymore. Her mission objective was to survive by any means necessary. Friends were not needed, they only slowed her down, but Maria disrupted Natasha's mantra and Natasha was angry. It was all Hill's fault.
FOUR HOURS PREVIOUSLY, HOVERING OVER THE ATLANTIC OCEAN
1900 HOURS,
THE GYM, HELLICARRIER.
The sound of a fist meeting a punching bag reverberated across the almost empty gym. Hit after hit after hit, Natasha was relentless. Hell fire was raining down on her, a silent war happening in her mind. Rage filled her up to the brim, threatening to over spill. Resentment was seeping out of her pores, every hit she took she grew angrier. This wasn't enough, she needed to fight the root cause. To pull it out from beneath her and destroy it, shatter it, to hurt it until she wont hurt anymore.
Natasha didn't bother to change or hit the showers, her tunnel vision dragged her feet unknowingly across the Hellicarrier until she was faced with the door of Maria's living quarters. She didn't bother to knock, choosing to push the door open with the anger and energy she'd been building up all day. Ever since the mission.
"Fuck you." the Russian spat.
"Nice to see you too, Romanoff." Maria stated calmly, face blank sat on her desk chair overlooking some emails.
