Spiderson Oneshots

Dancing on the Moon and Walking with the Stars--The Barton children and Natasha

Warnings: Description of death and torture

Natasha's P.O.V.

"Dancing on the Moon and Walking with the Stars"
I stare at the stars, connecting the patterns and reading the words, remembering how they were the only things there for me. For the longest time, I could talk to no one without putting myself on the line. So I had turned to the stars. To Ursa Major, I asked for comfort and warm hugs. To Ursa Minor, I asked for laughter. To Orion, I asked for protection. I told them my story and gave them stories of their own.

To look up to the stars was to remember standing on those late nights during a mission--through the trees and on balconies. Asking the person above for forgiveness along with the messages the stars carried.

There were days that I longed for the old days. The days where I had reveled in the freedom after all those years in the Red Room. The days where the only thing on my mind was the mission at hand. I had been trapped in my own mind but somehow that was what I wanted back.

I was not a religious person. But I did believe that there was someone up there. I believed it because I wanted it to be that I hadn't gone through everything just because. I believed there was some plan and that I wasn't just taking hits. I had been through it because I could handle it and I was part of some greater plan. That was my hope anyway. And there was many a day where I didn't have any hope.

The constellations would not judge me for what I had to get off my chest. They did not judge for what they had to bear witness to. I could not say that for anyone I knew--not even Clint. There were horrors in my life that even he wouldn't listen to impassively.

I close my eyes, letting the thoughts wash over me. It is only here that I can be at peace. On my phone I press play, and the gentle flute music swirls to greet my ears. I'd downloaded an entire album from a Native American artist online, and I found myself listening to it whenever I needed something to listen to.

I lean back against the roof, the incline feeling like a chair. I'm staying at Clint's house to babysit as he and Laura go out for a vacation. The window is open just a foot to my left so I can hear if they need anything.

I climbed out here about an hour ago. I hadn't been able to sleep because of nightmares. I wasn't going to disturb the kids with my restlessness, so I came out here. The walls had felt like they were closing in to trap me, reminding me of one of the many forms of punishment in the academy.

My eyelids are growing heavy, and I know it's time to go back inside. I say a final goodbye to the moon and make a final wish to the stars--the same as always. There's only a single thing I wish for now--safety. Against myself and enemies. Against nightmares and memories. And for the people in my family. Always them before me. I climb back inside and pull the window shut, my phone tucked safely in my pocket. I lock it despite knowing that no one knows we are here.

I rest my phone on the nightstand and pull up the covers. I snuggle beneath them, shutting my eyes. It isn't long before sleep takes me.

---~---~---

My heart is beating rapidly, and I hear the blood flowing in my ears. My body is exhausted, but when she yanks me up by the arm with her claw-like fingers, I promise I won't fall again. Three girls dance in front of me, clinging to the bar like a lifeline. It's only the four of us left.

My feet are bleeding from dancing for too long. A minute break every two hours is only for days they are feeling kind, and today is not one of those days. We haven't stopped, and my stomach is aching with hunger. I'd only had breakfast that morning--a tiny scoop of what they called oatmeal even though it looked more like vomit.

The girl in front falls again--her third time. I know that she hasn't been sleeping. She's kept me awake with her faint screams. She's a year younger than me, but I can't find it in me to pity her. My thoughts are toxic with words saying she's weak.

Madame B claps her hands, and I just barely sag on the bar. She doesn't speak to us much, but we've learned the language of her claps. And she's just told us that it's training time.

We're paraded through the academy in a line. The fallen girl is put in the back, and I can hear her gasping for breath. We're changed and put at attention. Madame B points at me and the other girl. We get into position, and I want badly to go easy on her. But that would be the end for me.

She falls after only a few blows. I hiss at her to get up, and she does. She falls again. She gets back up. But she is no match for me, and my arms are around her neck soon. I shut my eyes, begging myself to not look at our instructor but despite everything, I don't want to die. So I look over, and Madame nods. The girl is at my mercy, and she is gone within a second. Her body sags against mine, and I'm so tired. Yet I stand up straight and step away, letting the motionless body fall with a thump. I go back to attention, and I see the look on her face. Fear. I've become the exact monster I was so terrified of.

As we're pushed away to our chambers, I see the look on her face. Eyes wide in fear and terror written on her face. I did that.

Her face is flashing in front of me again and again and again. I feel the bones snapping under my hand. The face is in everything, and I can't look away. Everywhere. I'm blinking and blinking, trying to push it away because it wasn't my first kill. But the fear is pulsing because it could have been me.