" we are not who we used to be "
.
.
.
in which romanoff decides that enough is enough, and she risks everything to bring back the one she did all this for
BOOK THREE | Natasha Romanoff |
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
missouri america
AFTER natasha
THE HOT water was less soothing than I thought it would be. My hands were still shaking after the trip that I had, and my memory of getting to the safe house was still messy.
I didn't know what the witch did to me, to the team, but it had an affect. I still felt sick with dizziness, I felt clouded over. I hated the feeling.
When the shower water ran cool I turned it off, familiar with how the shower worked after the amount of times I had stayed here.
I was quick to get dressed. I knew that the team was most likely going to start picking up the pieces and get back to work. Ultron was still out there. There was still a fight to be fought.
Closing the door behind me, I was surprised to see Stacy had taken residency in the room. She had been just as quiet on the jet as everyone else was. Only a few whispers were passed between her and Steve.
She stood by the window, looking out into the fields of the farm.
"Hey." I said quietly. "I would have gotten out earlier. There isn't much hot water left." When Stacy didn't answer I slowly started to towel dry my hair.
Finally she turned around and it was as if she noticed my presence for the first time. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise and she nodded. "Hey."
"You okay?" I asked.
"No." She replied. She sat at the corner of the bed. "That bitch messed with my head. Badly."
I slowly sat down opposite of her. "When you were... you were calling out for your mom. What did you see?"
Stacy glanced at her hands as she played with her finger nails. "I saw her lobotomy. Or what it must have been like. It was warped. Twisted. It was like my worst nightmare brought to life." She shuddered and crossed her arms.
I fell quiet, thinking about what she had said. I couldn't imagine what that must have been like. I knew how close she was with her mother, or well, had been, and how terrible the lobotomy was.
"What did you see?" Stacy asked.
"I saw," I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Where I was kept. Where I was raised. The Red Room, in Russia. Memories I've since blocked off. I saw... I saw her."
"Who's her?" Stacy asked. Voice quiet, full of curiosity.
There was a million answers to that question, but none of them would be good enough. Who's her? Everything. Everything was the only word that I could come up with. It was the only thing that made sense. It was the only fit.
