Rogue Shadow

Chapter 24 - Never Alone

Chapter 24 – Never Alone

05:07 Wednesday, 25th October 2017

Nat sat up with a jolt, the blankets that had been covering her body fell to her lap. Hazel eyes systematically scanned the room, leaving no corner unchecked. Only after finding the room void of any other lifeforms, did Nat breathed out, slouching against the wall behind her. The last thing she remembered was Wilson's gentle words. He must have put her to bed. Nat felt her face heat up. Oh gods. She'd been carried to bed like a two-year-old.

Before that, he had been talking to her about something, only Nat couldn't recall his words, just that his voice was deep and soothing; she'd completely zoned out. Nat was sure she'd missed most of what he had said, bar one thing: he told her was that she wasn't weak. You are not broken. Did he really mean what he said?

As the fog hanging over her brain melted away, earlier parts of the night came into her mind. The anger, the terror, the yelling. How could that be the same man? How could he be so kind and gentle, but seconds later instil more fear into her than she ever remembered feeling? Nat had been reminded of the hell she'd escaped, times where punishments of torture or starvation or endless training would have followed such a look that he gave her.

It was a life she didn't even remember, but when her blood ran cold and her heart gave out, the memory of feeling absolute terror and desperation downed out everything else. The things they had done to her for disobeying orders... Nat shook her head, roughly rubbing her hands over her eyes. She needed to stop thinking about it.

But with nothing left to think about, her thoughts inevitably found their way back to Slade Wilson. Nat couldn't help but doubt him... what if the person she saw a glimpse of last night was who he truly was? He could be faking everything just to get her to lower her guard. What if he was like them? What if he was them?

Her entire body had frozen when Wilson shouted at her. Only a single thought able to penetrate her mind.

Run.

The voice that never left her alone. Always there, sometimes whispering to her, other times it would seem to yell. It wasn't always the same voice either. But it always told her the same thing.

Run.

And it never ever stopped.

Run away and never look back.

But no matter how loud it had bellowed in her mind, Nat couldn't move. It was as if she had gazed into the eyes of Medusa herself. Nat had been petrified; frozen solid at the thought of what would happen next. What if, after all this time, everything was just part of some master plan to get her back?

The thought of going back there scared Nat more than she cared to admit. It was a place she had almost no memory of and still, Nat knew it would lead to her destruction. No one could survive a place like that. At least, no one would make it out alive with their sanity and free will intact. That place broke people. Tore them down from the inside out, leaving them empty and hollow.

It wasn't fair! Why did everything have to burn down around her? Why couldn't fate just leave her alone? What if Slade Wilson, the man who rescued her, saved her life, took her in, cared for her, trained her, protected her; what if he manipulating her? What if it was all a lie?

Even worse than that? It was working.

Nat had almost begun to believe... or maybe hope, that everything was going to be okay – almost. But then he showed his true colours, Nat recognised the look in his eye, she had seen it before. When Wilson got angry, his entire being radiated power; he was terrifying. And even though Nat knew, she knew it had been her fault, he had instilled the fear of the gods into her.

Or at least he did... but only for a second. There was something about last night that Nat couldn't wrap her mind around. It didn't make sense. He was about to strike her – Nat was sure of it, but then he just stopped.

The man hadn't let go of her, but his hold was no longer threatening. His actions perplexed Nat. He didn't make sense. His head had dropped, and had Nat stood paralysed, watching on in confused trepidation as the silhouette of the man's chest slow rose and fell into calm, steady breaths. When he was kneeling on the ground, the giant of a man was only just shorter than her. And when he looked at her again, it was as if the harsh glint in his eye had never existed, leaving not even a trace of anger lingering on his face. He looked tired and maybe even apologetic, if Nat had read his expressions correctly, although Nat couldn't for the life of her understand why he'd be remorseful. Why had he apologised to her? It was her fault, yet he was the one to tell her that he was sorry.

Wilson had reined in his anger; Nat had never witnessed an adult involved in her life try and hold their frustrations back for her sake, let alone succeed. And Wilson had pulled himself back. There was no denying it. No other way to put it. Wilson then waited until his anger dissipated before he spoke to her again. And he had been so unimaginably gentle with her after that. Even when he was stern, he wasn't scary. Nat wasn't afraid of what he would do, instead, she felt ashamed of herself that she had pushed the man to his limits. How could he still be so amazingly caring towards her? No one had ever tried to help Nat the way Wilson did. How long had it been since someone had cared enough about Nat to do any of that for her?

Nat pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin there, casting her mind back to their last conversation. While replaying what she could remember of it over in her head, Nat heard herself muttering in Russian. She hadn't even realised she had spoken at the time. Why did she always revert to Russian? Perhaps her mind remembered it to be her first language even when she didn't.

How the man treated her was enough to shock Nat to her core. Why was his mere presence alone enough to ground her back to reality? Did he know how much it affected her when he simply held her like that? Wilson had stopped Nat from falling into a full-blown panic attack just by holding her. She wondered if he knew what he was doing. Was it a part of his plan, or did he just know what to do? How did he always know what to do? When he came back and was in full control of himself and his emotions, Nat had suddenly felt undeniably safe. There was no hiding the fact that Wilson, the Soldier, the Shadow, made her feel safe. She couldn't help but relax in his hold. Nat was tired and safe with a warm, comforting hand holding her up, grounding her mind to reality. She wasn't in danger. There was something so reassuring about his presence. Powerful and strong: he would protect her.

Nat never thought she would find herself hoping that another being's actions were real. If it wasn't real... Nat shook the dreaded thought away, she wouldn't be able to handle that level of betrayal. Nat felt like she could finally breathe again. It felt as if she had been holding her breath underwater for so long now, slowly drowning under the weight of the world.

No more fighting just to stay alive. This man had found her, and he made it crystal clear that he wasn't going to let her drown. She had been moments away from giving in – she was sick of fighting and losing but never free to die – it would be so much easier to give up, but then a hand had appeared, just under the surface. Like an angle sent from heaven, it reached out to her, yet Nat, so used to fighting on her own, stated at it, hesitant and doubtful.

What did she do?

What if he let her go?

What if it was all a lie? A trick?

But it never wavered, never faltered. An outstretched hand waiting to pull her from the fire. And finally, finally, when she felt like she couldn't go on even a second longer, Nat had reached back, to hell with the consequences. The hand wrapped around her wrist and Nat clung to it like a lifeline. It was the only thing keeping her from falling apart; he was the only one left to pull her out of the darkness. All she could do was hold on and hope that he could save her before it was too late.

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