Natasha

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Natasha paced around the room, her hands behind her back. Her chest hurt, and breathing became a harder task.

Sister.

Only one word.

That was all the note said. Natasha gripped it so tight in her hands that it crumpled and even tore a little.

She started to hyperventilate. Suddenly, she felt a whisper tickle her ear.

Natasha.

She whirled around to see little Yelena sitting on her bed, with daisies in her hair. Her blonde curls were braided, and she was smiling. Her green eyes were soft, foreign to the tortures of the Red Room. She was in her ballet dress, and she held two shoes in front of her.

Help me wear my shoes, sestra. I want to go dance.

Natasha blinked fast, and her little sister was gone. "No, no, Yelena," she whispered. Her ribs ached, and she could barely swallow with her heart thundering deafening thumps all the way up to her throat. She fell to the floor but barely felt it. She frantically clutched the bed sheet where Yelena had sat. "Yelena."

The sharp sound of knives being sharpened.

Natasha panted. She shook her head and the sound was gone. Just echoes of what this house used to be.

Familiar, angry murmurs.

A Russian lullaby hummed in Natasha's ears. That was one of Yelena's favorite songs that Natasha used to sing her to sleep with. "Yelena?" she breathed.

The lullaby ended abruptly.

Natasha could hear nothing but her gasps and her heart. Her chest seemed to cave in and her lungs folded in on themselves. Her vision started to blur and spin, then cleared again.

Yelena, older, sitting beside her, furiously scribbling in a notebook, her lips drawn back in a thin line in concentration.

"Yelena, come here!" Natasha reached out to touch her sister's arm, but with a blink, Yelena had disappeared, as though she was never there.

She is not here anymore, Natasha.

I'm losing it.

Natasha closed her eyes and tried to relax, but all she could see was Yelena's wide, scared eyes, drowning in her own blood.

The door opened in a hesitant way, and Natasha startled.

Her hands felt stuck.

I'm hand-cuffed! her mind screeched. She started to struggle, but couldn't do anything as the figure came closer.

Warm fingers grabbed her hands and pulled them away from each other.

Natasha squeezed her eyes shut and opened them. The handcuffs started to warp, then flickered into nothing.

Just an illusion. Just an illusion.

Natasha pulled her hands away from the hands holding it with a sharp jerk. She tried to make sense of the man's face. "S-Sam?" she croaked.

"Yeah, it's me. Are you okay?"

Natasha forced air through her nostrils, causing a loud wheezing noise to come out from her throat. A shudder rippled through her body violently, and goosebumps rose from her skin. "H-Have you seen Yelena a-anywhere?"

"No, Natasha. I haven't," Sam said gently. He touched her shoulder, and she felt herself relax. Though his touch was nowhere near Steve's, it still felt nice.

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