The Nightingale

Chapter Three

When Natasha woke, her eyes immediately clenched tightly in response to the pain that she felt pounding throughout her body, radiating prominently from the back of her skull. She groaned, hand reflexively moved towards her head as her senses tuned into the environment around her, and she realized that it felt as if the world was gently rocking her back and forth, like the cradles Natasha loved to sway side to side as she comforted her younger siblings.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, expecting to see the familiar walls of her home, assuming the sensation was caused just by the pain in her head. She looked first for her younger siblings sleeping in the beds beside her, but when she looked down to her left she realized she was alone. More distressing was the realization that she was not in her own bed and she didn't recognize her surroundings. The room she was in was paneled entirely in dark wood, illuminated brightly by large windows at the back, showing a clear blue sky. The bed she was in was much larger than her own, covered by a heavy, deep red quilt that she was lying on top of, nothing like her bed at home, with the patched quilt that she had helped her mother sew when her youngest brother was born.

Natasha sat up, trying to think back to the night, to understand where she was and how she had gotten here. The last thing she remembered clearly was sitting high in her favorite tree, attempting to perfect the shadow in yet another sketch her father's face, which she had drawn dozens of times before but still found it hard to complete to her likely. The memory made her realize that she had no knowledge of where her sketchbook and bag were until she looked around frantically, searching for the pieces of the last memory that she had, finding them sitting at the foot of the bed. Relief washing over her, she reached forward for her belongings.

"Oh good, you're awake." The voice startled Natasha as she was leaning forward and she jumped in surprise, inhaling a sharp gas that made her head pulse angrily and her chest twinge in pain as the room seemed to start to spin in front of her eyes. Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, reaching out to the wall to her right for grounding, Natasha waited for the spinning to stop before she opened her eyes again, focusing on the source of the noise. Behind an oversized, ornate desk cluttered with papers and bottles sat a small boy, no older than ten, grinning as he bit into an apple. "You've been out for a day 'n a half now. Captain will want to know." He made a movement to get up, but as his words sank in, a thousand questions raced through Natasha's mind as she wondered where she was, and why this boy was telling her that she'd been asleep for nearly two days.

"Wait," she called after him, and the boy frozen halfway through his scamper to the door of the room they were in. "What's your name?" The boy grinned again as he took another bite of the apple, dimples poking at his round, freckled cheeks.

"Jack Smithe, at your services." The boy bowed slightly, beaming happily up at her. Natasha couldn't help but smile down at him, a fleeting thought running through her mind that he reminded her of her youngest brother.

"Jack," Natasha said softly, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed only to be even more confused when she saw that she wasn't wearing her own clothes, but garments similar to hers except they were many sizes too large. Her own clothes were instead draped over a chair in front of the desk, and Natasha couldn't remember what would have caused her to have needed to change clothes. "You said I've been asleep for almost two days?"

"Just about, yeah. You did wake up a few times, really fitful you were, but Captains says you weren't fully awake. You remember?"

"No," Natasha shook her head slowly, looking around the room again. "Where are we?" The boy looked at her incredulously, as if he was surprised that she didn't know.