We'll Fight Together (Romanogers / Steve X Natasha)

Parting Ways

"This is the Warehouse?" Steve asked from behind the thick, dying foliage that they were all hiding behind.

Clea fiddled with Natasha's green vest. To accommodate the plan, the two women had switched their clothing and, as a result, Natasha's pants and vest were a bit too long for Clea's shorter figure. "Yes," she replied, various pebbles and stones rattling on the ground around her as she laid her blue eyes on the monstrous building. "It's smaller than I imagined it."

"That's good news for us," Sam deducted, his red goggles shielding his narrowed eyes from the others. "Ready to get this show on the road, Natasha?"

Natasha had been kneeling on the ground beside Clea, her green eyes practically burning holes through the horrendous structure. She toyed with her blonde hair a little too much, taking the time to push it back and out of her face. It wasn't bothersome, just different. Natasha's hair had been red for so long... she wasn't used to seeing the silvery wisps out of the corner of her eyes just yet.

Popping the midnight-black collar on Clea's vest, which was a smidge too small for her, she said, "As ready as I'll ever be." Then, reaching inside the vest pocket, she pulled out a small, silver device and a netted cloth. She attached the device to the back of her neck, and covered her face with the small veil, fitting it like a glove. Finally, jamming her thumb at the silver contraption, her entire face suddenly morphed until she resembled nothing more than Clea's 3D reflection. She looked at the teen, who's eyes had widened with amusement, and then at Steve. "Do we look the same?" Thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D. technology, her voice (aided by a Russian accent) even matched Clea's.

"Like twins." Steve was having trouble finding his voice now. As much as he trusted her, he could only imagine how horribly this could go. Despite Clea pointing out HYDRA's little "evacuation," he knew that he, Natasha, Clea, and Sam were still completely and utterly outnumbered.

As a large truck erupted from the gates below, Natasha uprighted herself. "Wish me luck. As soon as I'm in, wait a half hour before following my lead. Until then, I'll try to reach Ward as quickly as I can."

As she stood, Steve spoke up. "Natasha?" She looked down at him, "Clea's" blue eyes brimming with inquiry. Funny enough, he actually had no idea what he was going to say. Natasha had already made the distance between them loud and clear, and there was no doubt in his mind that he had gotten too close for her comfort. So, instead of bounding over and pulling her into a hug as he would've liked, he simply said, "Good luck." And with that, Natasha smiled, crackled her knuckles, and quickly made her away towards the now-closing gates. Steve watched with bated breath as "Clea's" narrow figure ducked behind the thick, steel-plated entrance. It slammed behind her with a high-pitched, booming BEEEEP, similar to the sound of a semi-truck in reverse.

Admittedly, his throat began to close as a dark cloud attempted to claw its way out of him. Watching her give herself up to HYDRA was like Ultron taking her captive all over again– all the while he did nothing about it because there were "more pressing matters at hand." Yeah, right. After her and Banner's little fondue moment all those years ago, he had used the event to distance himself from her. And, as a result, Ultron locked her in a cell. Add that to the list of things he lost sleep over.

"What's the plan?" Sam's voice infiltrated the soldier's self-inflicted guilt trip. He was going to respond but Clea stepped up to the plate before Steve could even open his mouth.

Complimenting the air, her accented voice was flat and chilling. As she clenched her fists, a large, leafy alder tree behind them rumbled, its trunk cracking and splitting up the middle. "First, we wait. Then, we fix what HYDRA took from me."