Little Widow | marvel

Part 4 - Team Meeting

Natasha's POV:
"She's dangerous, Natasha," Steve says.
"She's only 19. She's just a kid" I respond.
"Yeah, a kid who's killed the population of a small American town," he responds.
"Well, so had I when I was her age. It wasn't her choice," I respond with frustration in my voice.
"That doesn't change the fact that she still did it."
"So what? We're going to keep her locked away for the rest of her life over crimes she was forced to commit?"

The room goes silent.
"Look, Barton was sent to kill me, but he made a different call. I got my life back. Katya deserves that same chance."
Clint looks at me and gives me a half smile, but Steve doesn't respond.

"She was forced to kill. It's no different than Bucky," I raise my voice at Steve, trying to prove my point.
"Don't you DARE bring Bucky into this," Rogers yells at me.
"It's okay, Steve," Bucky responds calmly. "Natasha is right."
Steve looks at me like he wants to kill me.

"Is she being cooperative?" Tony asks me and Wanda, trying to ease the tension in the room.
I sigh and look down, which gives away my answer.
"I was in her mind. She's hurt," Wanda says. "And I don't mean the cut in her leg. She needs help. Help that we can provide. Help that this team gave me when I needed it most."
"We're all she has," Yelena says. "Nat and I, we know what she's been through. We can't keep her locked up, and we can't exactly let her roam the streets. But she deserves a chance."

"There's a lot to be considered here," Tony says. "We don't have to make any concrete decisions right now. That said, this team has given a lot of people second chances. Katya deserves that too." He pauses to think.
"How about a probationary period? We can observe her in the cell for the next few days, and if that goes well, we can move her into the compound on house arrest, and then go from there."
Captain reluctantly nods in agreement. The rest of the team is on board.

Katya's POV:
I bet they're talking about me in their little meeting. Natasha said I wouldn't be going back to the Red Room, so I bet they're going to kill me. And I don't blame them. I've killed so many people, anyone would see me as a threat to society. And let's be honest, I deserve it. I don't deserve to have a life after I've taken so many. Or maybe I'll just be left to rot in this little cell for the rest of my life. Left alone with my thoughts until they completely consume me and I become a skeleton of the girl I used to be. Ha. Girl. I'm not a girl, I'm a monstrous assassin. I wonder what would be worse; rotting away in this prison or death. At least in death I can find peace.

It must be night because suddenly the lights in my cell dim to where there's just enough light to see my surroundings. I guess that means I should go to sleep. I mean, it's not like I have anything better to do here. And I'm actually pretty exhausted.

I lay down on the mattress and close my eyes. I slowly drift off into an unrestful sleep. My dreams are filled with the sounds of the people I've killed, the blood on my hands.

When I wake up, I feel disoriented. I'm not sure how long I was asleep or what time it is, but the lights in my cell are still dimmed. I'm still exhausted yet restless. But in this tiny cage I have nothing to do, no way to blow off steam. I'm trapped.

I start thinking about Natasha again. I can't place her or the feeling, but something seems off. She seems familiar, but I don't know why. Maybe I've had a run in with her before on one of my missions? I remember almost every single one of my victims, but maybe she was just there? Maybe I'm thinking of someone else. I don't know. A lot of my younger years are a blur, as if my body has tried to protect my mind from the pain. Of course, I remember the big things, but sometimes I can't seem to put my memories into a logical story from before I was 10 years old. This is bugging me, making me even more stir crazy in this tiny little cell.

I push the thoughts out of my mind and start counting my breaths in my head. Every time a thought creeps back into my mind, I start over and count louder to drown them out and stop myself from thinking. My thoughts become so noisy that I have to start actually counting out loud. At first, it starts as a whisper, but it grows to a conversational volume. It's not working as well as I want it to. I can barely make it to 10 without a thought creeping into my mind. I start lightly banging the back of my head against the wall every time a new thought pops up. Soon, I'm banging my head every 3 seconds. But then slowly, there are more seconds in between each bang. I've finally gotten my mind to quiet down, at least a bit.