I'm Sorry | Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 10: I love you

An: Jenna would be the type to listen to the new Chase Atlantic song 200 times.

Guys i know i said 20k words but its almost 30k and was written over the course of a week so if it makes no sense blame my horrible raging adhd

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Inferno sat on the kitchen counter, the cool surface grounding her as she absentmindedly flipped a small knife between her fingers. The rhythmic motion was comforting, almost meditative, but her thoughts were anything but calm. It had been three hours since she last saw Natasha, and the creeping worry gnawed at her. Natasha was capable, but the situation was chaotic. There was no telling what could happen.

Elena lay on the couch, her injured leg propped up and a blanket pulled over her. The Widow had finally drifted off to sleep after a fitful few hours of pain and whispered curses in Russian. Watching her now, Inferno felt a pang of something she rarely allowed herself—sympathy. Despite the animosity and tension, she couldn't shake the feeling that Elena was more a victim than a villain in all of this.

The knife spun faster between her fingers, a blur of silver catching the dim light of the kitchen. The quiet of the small, run-down house was almost suffocating, pressing in on her as she waited. Inferno hated waiting, but she needed her team. They were supposed to arrive by now, and their absence only deepened her unease.

A soft knock on the door shattered the silence, jolting Elena awake. She sat up quickly, her eyes wide and alert, though groggy from the painkillers Inferno had found in a dusty bathroom cabinet. Elena's gaze locked onto Inferno, who had already leapt off the counter, the knife held in a defensive grip.

Inferno motioned for Elena to stay quiet as she approached the door. Every sense was on high alert, her heart pounding in her chest. Inferno carefully placed her hand on the door handle, the knife poised and ready.

With a swift movement, she yanked the door open, the knife held out in front of her. Relief washed over her as she saw familiar faces staring back at her.

"Easy there" a voice drawled, calm and amused. It belonged to one of her solider: Jace, a towering figure with a perpetual smirk and sharp eyes that missed nothing. "You planning on slicing up your own team?"

Inferno exhaled, lowering the knife slightly but not letting her guard down completely. She stepped aside to let them in, keeping a wary eye on the street behind them.

Jace entered first, followed by two other solider. Leo was already pulling out his medical kit, his eyes assessing Elena's condition from across the room. "That the patient?" he asked, his tone all business.

Inferno nodded, glancing back at Elena, who was watching them with a mix of confusion and suspicion. "Her leg's broken, and she's banged up pretty bad. Get her patched up."

Leo approached Elena carefully, his hands raised in a non-threatening manner. "I'm just here to help" he said softly, kneeling down to examine her leg.

Elena's gaze locked onto Leo as he knelt beside her, his hands moving with the practiced precision of someone who had done this countless times. The confusion in her eyes was evident, a mix of wariness and disbelief. She wasn't used to this—people helping her without an ulterior motive.

"Why?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion. Her eyes searched Leo's face for any hint of a hidden agenda, any sign that this was just another trap.

Leo looked up at her, his expression calm and almost... indifferent. He paused in his work for a moment, meeting her gaze with a shrug. "Boss asked us to" he said simply, as if that explained everything.

Elena blinked, her frown deepening. "That's it? Just because she told you to?"

Leo gave a small, nonchalant nod, his hands already back to assessing the damage to her leg. "That's it. She says patch you up, we patch you up. No questions asked."