Chapter 5
She slowly approaches the girl on the floor, bending in one fluid motion to be on her level. She smiles softly. Hana knows that this is a game. Natalia will be soft and sweet until she assesses Hana’s disposition, then she will strike if necessary.
“I go by Natasha now.” Hana blinks in surprise but doesn’t comment. Her eyes scan the room, looking for clues as to the location of this place.
“We’re in New York City, in the Avengers Tower.” New York City, hmm… and ‘the Avengers Tower?’ She had no idea where that was in the city, or the significance of the place, but Natalia– Natasha now– seemed to think it was secure location, to be talking freely like this.
“Safe?” Hana asks quietly, closing her eyes in exhaustion.
“Safe,” Natasha repeats. “This isn’t the Red Room.” Hana’s eyes snapped open again, and she pushes herself half off the floor.
“Then where…” She trailed off, and didn’t seem to want to continue her sentence, and imagine what new horror she slipped into running away from the last one.
“You got away. You’re free now.” Hana snorted at that. She would never be free. There would always be another group, another organization in the shadows that would snatch her away. She would never have a normal life. She rested her head back on the plush carpet, not removing her eyes from the girl in front of her. Something told her that this girl was important, very important.
They had met on Hana’s first day of the Red Room, and the day in general was fuzzy, but she remembered meeting Natalia well. Her face was compassionless, but her eyes were soft. She knew what was going on. She knew that Hana did not love ballet; she knew that Hana did not train to be accepted to the academy. But after that first day, Natalia never spoke to her again. Hana noticed, however, that Natalia was always close: watching her training with expressionless eyes. Until one day, she didn’t come back from her mission. Missions would only be for a maximum of three months; it would be unwise to let the regime deteriorate from their minds far from the Red Room. When Hana asked they kept her in a control room for an entire week until the question faded into the back of her mind.
“What about them?” She asks Natasha, tilting her head to indicate the two men she knew were behind her, watching. Natasha’s eyes flicker up to look at them, and her lips curl upward in a small but genuine smile.
“They can be trusted,” She says simply, and doesn’t elaborate any further. They inch closer, and Natasha shakes her head minutely. They stop.
She outstretches a hand to Hana, pulling her off the floor. Once on her feet, Hana declines any more help. Natasha eyes her carefully as they make their way over to the sofa, but Hana doesn’t falter. Despite her exhaustion, despite her wound, she is not willing to shut down. She is too scared, Natasha thinks. But no, “scared,” isn’t the right word. Hana is a soldier weary from war; she has seen too much, experienced too much, to rest just yet. Everyone present in Natasha’s apartment knew this feeling too well.
She slumps into the couch, but it is a false relaxation. She is still ready to strike at any moment. Her eyes do not stray from the two men in front of them. The blond man looked confused and sad, though she didn’t know why. He should be angry. She hurt him, and tried to escape. The other man’s expression was much more familiar. He kept his face slack, but he watched her with hard eyes. Yes, that’s better.
Hana doesn’t break eye contact until Natasha gets up off the couch and leaves the room. She returns with bottled water and a protein bar. Hana takes them, inspecting the packaging carefully. It’s just a habit; Hana knows that Natasha was too smart to leave an obvious mistake. She sips slowly, carefully. She knows better than to stuff herself after not eating for a while. This makes the blonde’s eyebrows crease again. She ignores this and peels open the protein bar, tearing it into chunks and chewing carefully.
Between one bite and the next, she was asleep.