𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐬 [ romanogers² ]

nine. lost trust

GOOD NEWS: CHRIS EVANS FINALLY HAS AN IG ACCOUNT WAAAHH!!

BAD NEWS: This chapter is more angst-y and heartbreaking than the recent chapters. I'm so sorry but it needs to be done :(

Please be prepared. Prepare some tissues (lol)

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( nine. lost trust )

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Natasha barely had any sleep that night, and it was probably for a good reason too. 

She was supposed to leave before daylight came so she'd have lesser chances to be seen (though, it wouldn't matter because she was going to end up back in the compound either way), the last thing she wanted was to have another bad record added to her name again.

Unfortunately, by the time she woke up, it was too late for any proper departure. The sound of rotors outside alarmed her, even with her head spinning, she knew well enough that this wasn't going to end up well. If they find her here along with Steve— Steve. They needed to get out of here fast.

It was the middle of the night so she could barely see anything but the light from the dusty window. Panic coursed through her veins when she could make out a searchlight heading their way, just barely missing them. Oh God. 

She turned to the man beside her, still sleeping soundly despite all the noise outside. And you'd think with his enhanced senses he'd be the first to hear all this. "Steve!" She grabbed his arm and shook it like crazy. "Steve!"

His eyes snapped open in an instant. He groaned, nearly sat up, when Natasha pulled his head down and rolled them over to the side. That set off another warning as more lights flooded the room. 

Steve was smart enough to figure out what was happening. He was already wide awake beside her, breathing heavily out of fear. He could hear it now. Soldiers. Police. Guns. Trucks. Probably two. Three. Five. They were seriously outnumbered. "Goddammit."

"How they hell did they find us so fast?"

"I don't know!" He snarled, "Someone must've tipped us off."

"We have to get out of here."

"You think?" Steve returned sarcastically.

Natasha ignored him. "Where's Bucky and Sam?"

"Probably in the other room," Steve said, sneaking a look behind them, "I'll find them."

"But—"

He stopped her, already knew what she was going to say. "No. You stay here. Do you have your guns?"

Natasha patted her pockets and realized in horror that it wasn't there. Her eyes fleeted over the room, doing her best to spot it even when she could barely see a thing. After a second or two, the light fell briefly over one that glistened.

"Got it."

"Okay, get your guns and stay low. I'll find them. Don't move and don't make a sound." Steve warned.

"What am I, a child?" Natasha snapped.

Either Steve didn't hear her or simply chose to ignore her and proceeded to search the other room.

Natasha had no choice but to follow his orders. She bent low, hiding behind the debris, and scurried across the way to the guns, taking one in her pocket and gripping the other. Beads of sweat dropped down her forehead while she gasped for breath. What was wrong with her? She had been through worse. She was really anxious and she was really terrified than ever.