Trapped in her own Web

Nightmares

Upstate Ohio
Present Day ~ 11:25pm

A slight wind blew through the sparse trees surrounding the beaten track. The breeze did nothing to ruffle the motionless figure gazing down from the abandoned bridge.

A few red tresses had escaped her cap and flew round her head. She was laying flat to the ground with only the muzzle of her gun pointing through a gap in the concrete structure. Time ticked by on her watch and every now and then she would shift her weight to stop her limbs from falling asleep.

It was nearly two hours later when the fist truck arrived. It rumbled to a halt just beneath the overpass and the assassin could make out voices as the truck doors slammed shut. A man pulled out a pistol as he came into view and did a quick, sloppy scout for anyone lurking nearby.

He then returned to the truck and remained there until an inconspicuous silver car rolled on up. Another man got out of the car and was greeted by the man with a pistol. A third guy followed the man and opened the trunk of the car. Whatever was in there seemed to satisfy him as he nodded and brought up a brief case.

The assassin peered through the scope and lined up her targets.
"This is agent Romanoff, targets acquired permission to proceed, over."
"Permisson granted" Coulson's voice echoed over the comm. "oh, and Natasha, make it clean. The clean up crew weren't particularly happy with you last time."

Natasha rolled her eyes before refocusing on the men below her. The three of them had stopped talking, two of which had guns pulled on each other whilst the third was waving frantically in her direction.

She popped her shoulders as she set her sights on him then bam. Reload. Bam. Reload. Bam.

Three bodies hit the floor along with a brief case full of cash. The lid popped open and the cash started drifting away.

Natasha rolled her limbs and cracked her knuckles before packing the rifle up and climbing down the bridge. She stepped over her targets and checked the trunk. Inside was a cache of military weapons. She inspected a sleek revolver before tucking it in her suit, she then shut the lid and radioed Coulson to come pick her up.

The SHIELD jet landed and she greeted her handler and gave her mission report before settling in the back for the flight to New York.

After what felt like no time at all, she woke up as the jet descended by the new avengers facility.

The sky was still dark as she swiped her pass over the scanner. The door unlocked and she stepped into the cool foyer. She told FRIDAY not to wake any of the others up as she silently made her way to her room.

She didn't even bother to undress as she sank into her bed and fell into a blissful sleep.

Well, blissful until the nightmares crept in.

The darkness pressed against her as the faces of those that had fallen beneath her stared impassively ahead.

The crowd of ghostly victims parted as an unknown force walked between them. It halted just outside the small circle of light and extended a pale white hand. One crooked finger beckoned something forwards and there were the sounds of struggle as several heavy things were dragged across the dusty floor.

Cap was bound and gagged. His eye was swollen shut and numerous bruises left black marks all over him. He was so good and pure but now Natasha could see the depth of his silent pain.

With a snap of the pale fingers, a silver knife buried itself in the captains back and although Natasha could feel her eyes widen and her mouth open, no sound came out.

He gave one last pleading look before slumping over, dead. Someone did cry out though. It was Tony. He was sporting a fat lip and bleeding from several places.

He was bound just like Steve, but someone had smashed in his arc reactor. Every breath he took was heavy and laboured. His dark eyes locked on hers and betrayal flashed across his features.

"Why didn't you help us?" His voice was so full of pain that Natasha looked away. "You could of saved us, all of us but you didn't and now we're all going to die." He spat at the ground by her feet before a sickening crunch indicated that his skull had been bashed in.

He lay next to the Captain with his eyes open, looking at something that wasn't there.

Natasha woke herself up screaming. That in itself was unusual, she was normally far more reserved. However most of her nightmares weren't that graphic.

She waited for a heartbeat to see if anyone had noticed before slumping back into her pillows.

Her alarm clock read 5:00 am and she realised there was no point in attempting more sleep. Instead she rose and dressed in simple track kit. As she was leaving she yanked her black ballet slippers off their hook and clicked her door shut.

She had been meaning to go to the gym, but instead found herself outside the dance studio. The door opened soundlessly and Natasha glided onto the smooth wooden floor.

Mirrors made up two walls whilst a clear window made another. The studio was situated at one of the higher points of the training facility and had an amazing view of the training ground for troops.

Still feeling the horror from her dream, Natasha slipped on her ballet flats and started warming up using the wooden bar. She closed her eyes and focused solely on the rhythm of her movement and the tension in her muscles.

At some point she had moved away from the bar and started a series of steps in one of the first recitals she had learned. A gentle melody all too easily recognisable flowed through the walls, courtesy of FRIDAY and Natasha let herself be swept up in the music.

As the music dipped, so did she. When the music lifted in a graceful arc, she followed up with an elegant en pointe. And when the music reached a crescendo she felt her muscles strain as she held the tension in her core and pirouetted in such a manner that to the normal eye it would almost seem as if she was flying. The music died slowly as she finished her routine in fifth position.

The morning sun was just peaking through the windows and Natasha felt a moment of peace. She slipped off her shoes before exiting quietly.

She was just making her way towards her room when she ran into none other than the American Dream boy himself.

The image of the captain bloody and bruised rose in her mind before she squashed it down. "Morning Romanoff."
"Captain."
"I take it the mission went well."
"Everything went accordingly."
"Great, I expect a full report after breakfast. Which reminds me, when you see Fury remind him that you are an avenger and as such are part of my team." He gave her a teasing smile which she returned.
"Of course cap."

He continued down the corridor whilst she ducked into her bathroom for a long hot shower.