Red Daughter

Eleven

Luckily Bruce managed to restart Natasha's heart before he got to work on her gunshot wounds. Elodie watched the monitors that Natasha was hooked up to, the beeping starting to get slower and slower again. Bruce rushed over to her, "I need your blood."

"What?"

"She's bleeding out, I need your blood." He didn't wait for a reply but instead grabbed her arm and dragged her to a chair, "sit and hold out your arm."

Elodie was used to taking orders so she did so without question. When she pulled her sleeve up the white scars that crisscrossed her arm stood out under the harsh lights. Bruce paused momentarily when he saw them but then he quickly hooked a needle into her and she watched her blood flow into Natasha. They watched as the beeping got stronger and Bruce started to work on Natasha again. Elodie focused on the rise and fall of Natasha's chest and fought the feelings that were rising up in her. Feelings that surprised her.

Just because Natasha was her...

Elodie shook her head trying to clear it. This was no different from when she had given blood in the Red Room. After a few minutes Bruce unhooked her and she went to get some juice. In the kitchen she found Steve who was making a sandwich. When he saw her he looked worried, "are you ok?"

"Need juice, Bruce took blood." Apparently he took more than she realized because her vision turned spotted.

Steve rushed to her side and helped her to a chair and then brought her some juice. He stood watching her as she sipped it slowly. "Can I ask you something?" He finally said. Elodie tensed slightly as she looked at him, but nodded. "Why are you here?"

"I had nowhere else to go."

"You could have stayed in the Red Room."

She gave him a sad smile, "yeah I could have. I could have stayed and been constantly told that I'm not as good as Natasha. I could have stayed and been sent to kill people who probably didn't deserve it. I could have stayed and been mentally and physically abused. What a way to spend a life."

Steve looked slightly uncomfortable but he still continued, "how'd you get out? Nat and Yelena had to fake their death to get out. How is it that you don't have a scratch on you?"

Elodie sighed and stood up, "who says I don't? Maybe I'm just an expert at hiding my pain."

                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha woke up a few days later to find Elodie sleeping on the floor in a pile of blankets. She tried to move, groaning softly as she did, and Bruce showed up at her side. "Careful," he said softly, "you'll rip your stitches."

"How bad?"

"You have a bullet wound on your right leg and shoulder. It was pretty bad, you were technically dead when the team brought you back here. You lost a lot of blood but luckily for you Elodie has the same blood type."

Nat looked down at the sleeping girl, "how long has she been down there?"

"Two days, she refused to leave," he sighed heavily. "There's something I think you should know. About her."

The Widow looked back at Bruce, "is she ok?"

He ran a hand through his hair in a worried way, "I'm not sure. She has... marks on her arm."

"Marks?"

"Cuts. Nat they look self inflicted."

Natasha leaned her head back and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. After several breaths she looked back at Bruce, "so what do we do? How do we help her?"