Little Dark Age

Chapter 6

Catarina thought she was safe, and in hindsight she is. In everyone else's case, she is as well. The girl was safe enough to be around without wanting to grab her knife and ram it through the closet person's neck. That didn't mean she didn't want to at certain points.

One would think living with the Avengers is a dream come true. They are superheroes, rich, they live in a massive building which probably has the godliest of views from the tower. Catarina liked to stand and look out as the cold air gently brushed her, causing goosebumps across her arms. That would last until she was being 'demanded' By Natasha, who was very much awkward around.

Sure maybe their last interaction was heartfelt, filled with loads of clucking and sobs. Didn't mean it would have stayed. At that moment Catarina was craving the warmth of a parent she had never grown up in. Allowing them both the be at a burst of emotions.

But Catraina...

But Catarina detested it. Detested being loved, being plucked from her routine. She hated the sudden change from a lumpy mattress in a damp cell or a similar bed just in a dorm full of girls to such a massive room with a bed so comfortable it was hard to sleep on. In the eight-year-old's mind, it was all a joke, as if she was waiting for it to all be taken away; good things for her don't last long. They made sure of that.

Even so, the Avengers were nice enough. They didn't force her awake, hit her or even make her train. One should think she would be grateful she was free...but she's honestly not. A part of her, a small sickness that grew in her wanted to be back. Vigorously training, the aching of her body or the mindless pit of hunger that rests in her stomach. But it was a routine that had stuck with her for all her life, it was going to be hard not to want.

Catarina would glare at anyone who even dared to talk to her and push away the freshly made foods that were put in front of her when she was told it was dinner time. Side-eying the dish before pushing it away even though her already frail body protested at it. Before taking an apple and walking off, leaving them in silence.

The night was worst though, always having one watch her as she got under the heavy duvets. Waiting for her to fall asleep. But she didn't, nothing good would happen if she did. Macabre nightmares of her childhood, some blue-eyed man with a metal arm, the cell, getting dolled up for the mission. Catarina very desperately wanted to escape, there was no point sleeping she was going to relive it all over and over again.

When the lights were out, whispers died down as the Avengers settled in for the night. Catarina slipped from the warm bliss that the duvet created, fishing around her pillow until her fingers touched the cold metal of a pair of stolen cuffs. She walked over to the radiator before attaching one loop around the brass pipes and the other around her ankles.

Though the whole idea didn't create the most comfortable sleeping position, it did provide the eight-year-old with a sort of comfort. How she asked herself as she lay there one night on the solid wooden floor that chilled her body. Screwing her eyes shut as she willed herself to fall into the inkiness that sleep procedures, fooling herself to think that the dreams wouldn't come.

They did, they always did.

So she has taken not to sleep, no matter how many times they comment about the dark rings under her dull emerald eyes. Catarina couldn't find it in her to care about such things. Lay awake under the darkness of night, nimble fingers tracing the mired spiderweb of scars that covered her body. Trailing off like a forgotten path-way or carrying on for lengths down her. Fast healing couldn't cure scares, it only made them.