5

8.9K 293 67
                                    

"I don't quite understand what happened back there. I'm not about to go and ask Nat-- she didn't look too happy when she saw the woman. Alexandra. And Natasha. The Black Widow's real name is Natasha. Natasha something. Most definitely not Rushman, but it'll take a little more effort to find out her last name. Maybe I'll recognize it. It's strange, really, how important her name suddenly is to me.

"I'm not sure if I should be too eager to trust her, either. I saw the hesitation in her actions and eyes when Alexandra told her she could come back. It would be tempting for anyone, but it was tempting for her, and that's a problem.

"She's been sleeping a lot, doing nothing else. We haven't exchanged a single word, and I don't think she really recognizes what situation she's in. She'll be okay, though.

"We both will be."

➹➹➹

8. Hungary: Budapest, Thursday, August 13, 3:43

➹➹➹

"The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the waterspout," he sings tauntingly, smiling devilishly at her. "Down came the rain and washed the spider out!"

"Stop!" she screams, thrashing in her bonds. "You promised me! You promised me freedom!"

"The very first lesson you learned from me is I am not a man of my word!"

Tears spring to her eyes, and that only fuels her anger. The fact that he can take her and provoke her while she can't fight back. The fact that he's using another helpless person over her, and making her watch their death.

And so she does watch. Her own father died in her hands. The Red Room... She still has trouble sorting out what really happened and what the Red Room has forced into her existence. Brazil... the hospital clip of the fire she created-- to kill one man, her own father. To prove herself better, more bold, than Yelena Belova.

As sick innocents died; children, adults, elders-- not to mention the doctors and interns, visitors... everyone. Her father. As the events unfolded before her eyes when she was there, she woke up. She heard the screams. It was her worst nightmare.

'What is true? What is fake? God help me, I was tricked into being a monster.'

And now she watches it on film. Someone taped this. The Red Room has it. 'They're doing it, again. The brainwashing,' she thinks. In hours, or less, she won't remember once more. She'll be their puppet. An expendable pawn. Again. There is no escape, is there?

There is, though. There is death. And there is waking up.

Wake up.

Wake up.

"Nat! Wake up!" Clint whispers furiously. She gasps as she shoots up, knocking the agent off the balls of his feet. Her eyes adjust quickly, and her cold sweat causes her to shiver. The memory of her past still haunts her.

Regaining his balance, Clint points to a red dot from a scope moving back and forth over the grass and leaves, twisting and moving from the shapes and missing the two of them completely. The light comes too close for comfort, however.

"Someone is targeting us. We have got to get going. Either we take the person out or we sneak away. There's no saying how many people are with them, but I think they're alone."

She stares back at the whites of his eyes, just making out his silhouette. Then she nods, gritting her teeth at the memory fresh in her mind.

This person isn't innocent. I mean, they're trying to kill us, she reminds herself. It's not... as... bad.

The Story of a Bird and Spider || ClintashaWhere stories live. Discover now