JEALOUSLY
WITH THE HOT SUN BLAZING DOWN ON HER BACK, NATASHA SIGHED IN ANNOYANCE. Wiping the sweat off of her brow, the redhead made her way to her destination – someone with information on Jacob Flake. She knew her informant was flighty, paranoid about every little thing… which is why she didn’t tell him she was coming, simply deciding to sneak her way around the security cameras and guards. Holding her weapon close to her, the redhead quickly hid behind a vending machine, holding her breath as the guard walked closer to where she was.
Suddenly, an idea popped up in her head. Pocketing her gun, Natasha prepared herself for what she was about to do. Without any indication that she was here, she quickly wrapped her hands around his neck and snapped it, pulling the guard’s body closer to where she was. Wasting no time, she quietly and quickly rid him of his clothes, throwing them on as well as his helmet. Hiding the guard, she made her way out of the scene. She knew if Clint was here, he would’ve scolded her for what she just did, but Clint wasn’t here, was he?
Following the directions she was given, she finds herself in no time in front of the informants' office. Knocking, she waited for the man to answer. “H-Hello?” His voice stuttered, an awkward nasal sound to it. She could see his eyes peep through the peephole, which if she looked close enough, she would see they were red – as if he had been crying, or doing drugs. Natasha figured the latter, with his history. “O-Oh! Come in, come in!” The man exclaimed, unlocking the many locks on the door. Soon enough, the metal door swung open and the man rushed her in, quickly locking the doors once more.
“Thank God, you guys got my call! My microwave broke, and I need a new one,” The man rambled, turning around and getting distracted with things around his messy office. Natasha resisted the urge to gag as she watched bugs climb up the crummy walls. Taking his distraction for granted, the redhead took off the helmet, gently setting it on the ground. Thankfully, that seemed to grab the man’s attention. Flipping around, his eyes widened in shock, an almost comical look to the scene. He stuttered, stumbling for his handgun on the table, “I-I’ll s-shoot!”
Raising an eyebrow, Natasha snorted in amusement, “It’s empty,” She informed the man. Using his panic to her advantage, she quickly took the gun out of his grasp, pocketing it. Holding up her hands in surrender, Natasha calmly spoke, “I’m not here to fight. You have some information I need.”
“...What? You’re not here to kill me?”
“Well, I’d certainly like to punch you, considering all of the pervy pictures you have of women on your computer, but no– I’m not here to kill you.” She explained, her eyes locked on the pathetic man. “You used to work with Jacob Flake, yes? I’ve been told that you’ve been keeping contact with him, allowing him to use some of your safe houses.”
He wrang his hands together nervously, his eyes constantly flickering down to the weapons on her. “Uh, yes… I’ve been helping him. Why do y-you ask?” He asked, rocking back and forth on his feet. Moving forward slightly, Natasha pulled out her phone and pulled up a picture, ignoring the man’s flinch. “Recognize them?” She questioned, showing the man the blurry picture of the supposed Widows. “Your friend was a double agent for us at Shield. The people he used to work with would sometimes collaborate with the Red Room, and they want his research – his discoveries for their sick organizations. We need to get this man into protective custody, but in order to do that, we need your help. I need you to contact him, to find out where he is.”
“I…” The man trailed off, his forehead crinkling. “What do I… What do I get out of it?”
Keeping her face neutral, the girl responded, “A favor from Shield. So, what do you say, Doctor?”
He was quiet for a moment, before sighing in defeat. Walking over to his laptop, the man flipped it open, opening up his email. She watched as he wrote, the clicking of the keys almost calming. Within a few minutes, the email was finished and sent. Closing the laptop, the man turned around and lean up against his desk. “Well, I guess this–” However, before he could continue, a bullet flew through the window, hitting him dead center in his forehead. “Shit!” She cursed, whipping out her gun. Scanning the windows, she swore she saw a flash of metal. However, that became the least of her worries.
Rolling out of the way of a bullet, Natasha ducked behind the man’s desk. Carefully reaching up, she grasped his computer, pulling it down with her. Realizing time was not on her side today, the girl simply held the laptop tightly, army crawling to the locked door, ducking behind objects once and while. Letting her wand fall into her hand, she quickly unlocked the door, busting out of the room.
She was lucky, too. Someone had thrown a bomb in there, destroying everything in there. Falling back from the blast, Natasha groaned in pain, her side killing her. However, she knew her side didn’t matter at the moment – she had to get out of there. Flicking her wand, she disappeared from the scene.
With Natasha gone, Daphne and Hermione had taken it upon themselves to keep the fight club going. “I’m just saying, we should call it something other than ‘fight club,’ Hermione!” Daphne commented, flicking her wand up — vines and obstacles forming before her. The dark-skinned girl huffed, her lion’s mane of a nest bouncing with her. “Daphne, it’s Natasha’s club, not ours. While I agree it’s rather… bland that we don’t have an official name, that’s not our decision.” She explained, her lips pursed in displeasure.
Rolling her ice-blue eyes, Daphne took a moment to look down at the crowd beneath. “Ready, Granger?” The blonde asked. Nodding in response, Daphne cleared her throat and brought her wand up to her throat. “Hello, everybody! As this is our first practice without Natasha, I still believe we should live up to her expectations. When I call your name, come to the red line and wait for further instructions.”
As she called out names, Hermione tilted her head to the side as she studied the group. She felt as if something was wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. However, she pushed her paranoia away and straightened out her figure. Bringing her gaze back over to the group of people Daphne called, she blinked in confusion. “Ron… are you.. are you eating right now?” She called out, her face clouded in confusion.
“I missed my second dinner — don’t judge me for simply indulging my body when it wants food!” The ginger huffed, shoving a pastry in his mouth. Sharing a look with Daphne, the two girls rolled their eyes but allowed the redhead to do his thing.
Clearing her throat once more, Daphne continued, “Now, pretend you’re in the active line of fire! We’ll give you a minute to decide who does what! Starting… now.” The group stared at her, their faces dumbfounded, “staring now!” However, that seemed to snap them out of their dazes, huddling in to each other.
“God, sometimes I wonder how many times their mother must’ve dropped them on the head as a baby for them to be this slow,” Daphne muttered, causing a laugh from Hermione. While the two girls were distracted, they didn’t seem to notice the group arguing before Carrie, a 6th year, broke free from the group and started running into the ‘line of fire’ “Shit!” Daphne cursed, muttering a jinx underneath her breath.
Ducking behind some cover, Carrie huffed in annoyance. Bracing herself, she quickly perked up and looked around. However, that was enough time for Hermione to send a spell her way. Daphne stifled her giggle, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Carrie, you’re dead — walk it off, or continue playing dead; I don’t care.”
Ron let out a battle cry, wand in one hand, snack in the other. Hermione flicked her wand, sending Ron’s snack flying across the room. He cried out, dropping down to his knees as he tried to scrape it up with his hands. “Just…” He shook his head, a look of agony on his face, “Just kill me. Please, I can’t live without my snacks.”
Sharing a look, the two girls shrugged. Waving her wand, Daphne called out, “You’re dead, Ron! Please take your crying to the other side of the room.” Nodding, the ginger dragged himself out of the line of fire.
Surprisingly, Goyle was still going, dodging most of the spells near him. However, his fatal flaw was loyalty. Helping his friend Draco, only to be betrayed and used as a human shield. Wincing, Hermione silently pitied the large teen as Daphne called out his death. Draco laughed, his face flushed with adrenaline.
He made it to the end of the maze, only to be hit in the chest with a water balloon. He spluttered, freezing up like a cat in water. “W-What the hell!” He yelled, stripping himself of his soaking robe, and throwing it to the floor. “When did this get here?!”
Daphne shrugged nonchalantly, leaning up against the banister, “They were always there, Malfoy. If you had paid attention, you might’ve seen them.” She twirled her wand between her fingers. The blonde’s eye twitched, and his nose flared. “I swear to Merlin, I will rip that wand out of your bloody hand, Greengrass.”
“I’d like to see you try, ferret—,”
“—Excuse me!”
“Little Ferret boy!—,”
A loud bang interrupted their arguing. Snapping their heads over to the nose, Daphne sucked in a breath of shock. “Fuck.” She cursed, locking eyes with Dolores Fucking Umbridge.
“Children…” She took her sweet time, her kitten heels clicking across the tile, “What… is this?”
Sharing a look with Hermione, the two girls knew that they were screwed.
Huddled up in her safe house, Natasha opened up the computer, taking a moment to hack her way into the thing. Once in, Natasha clicked the email tab, looking for the response. “Jesus, who needs this much junk mail?” She muttered under her breath, scrolling down until she found what she wanted.
Dan, I’m so glad you reached out! Of course, I’d like to have you over. I mean, it’s not like my opinion should really matter, right? It is your safe house… haha… anyways, I’m at the one in Yazd. The passcode was recently changed, so the code is now #0974. Uh, can’t wait to see you, pal!
- Jacob Flake.
Good lord, she could practically feel the awkwardness oozing out of the screen. Updating her superiors, Natasha snuck a glance out of the window. The mission was taking longer than thought, and with that, she huddled herself up in blankets, pre-placing weapons in case of an attack.
Closing her green eyes, the redhead felt her body sink into the mattress, molding itself to her curves. Her mind slowly fluttered off to sleep, her fingers gripping the edge of her blanket.
Unaware, a man with a metal arm was standing outside her safe house, a phone in his fleshy hand. “Препятствие к цели. Разрешите вывезти?” He asked, his voice gruff from years of non-use. His superior hummed, a smirk heard in his voice.
“В разрешении отказано, Солдат. Эта девушка еще пригодится нам.” Flipping his phone shut, the dirty man tilted his head to the side.
Where the hell was this Deja Vu coming from?
In his opinion, Tom was being perfectly reasonable. It’s not like he was asking for much! All he wanted was to go outside to the gardens, to feel the sun on his skin and the grass on his toes. To feel the breeze flutter through his curly hair, and to finally rid himself of this numb feeling. Of course, in the depths of his dark mind, it wouldn’t do anything.
He would never feel like himself as long as he wasn’t with Natasha.
Rubbing a hand over his scruffy face, a beard growing in from months of neglect. No matter how many letters he got, nothing would bring him out of the daze – constantly feeling like he was walking on thin ice, awaiting the moment it would shatter out from beneath him. Satisfied, he was not… A deep hunger within him, but nothing satisfying it.
In some ways, Tom felt abandoned by Natasha – an old toy that was outshined by the new, shinier ones. A thing of nostalgia, something for the girl to reminisce about with a cup of tea, and the fire strong. Of course, he knew it was ridiculous, that he was being stupid and paranoid; the loneliness getting to his head. But, was it really ridiculous when it was true?
The girl constantly talked about her new friends, her sister and Clint, of Sirius and Remus. Sure, some of the letters were just for him, to ask him how he was and if he had any plan of getting out. Still, pettiness and jealously was in his nature and were something he couldn’t change. Still, as he stared out of his bedroom window, his heart dropped at the realization he had just come to. Good Lord, was he… jealous of her? All of these feelings, all of these thoughts, and just now – he was jealous of the life she had.
God, he felt wrong – gross! What was wrong with him? He had been with this girl since she was a baby; he was practically a mentor to her! He had seen her childhood, of all the horrors she had endured; why was he jealous?
This must be his punishment, for the sins he’s committed. To have been so close to her, to feel her feelings and thoughts, to have nothing of her but a memory – to be with her at all times, living out through her, experiencing the same things and feelings as her. Sometimes, he felt as if he was a worshipper – his fondness for Natasha turning to obsession. He wanted to devour her, to be one with her once more. Maybe his desires were his punishment as well? To be someone independently, but also have the urge to crawl into Natasha’s skin. God, he really was as people said he was; mad, insane, evil… however…
Certainly, when he was younger and of the original soul, he edged more to what people would call ‘evil,’ but now…
Was there anything such as good or evil? Or did it simply depend on who was telling the story? To be the own protagonist of your own story. However, that didn’t seem to be the deal for him. He was the antagonist of his own story, destroying himself and the things he loved around him.
He knew he had his flaws – everyone did. His, however, was… Whenever a door closed, another would open for him; forever debating on whether or not to move forward or 0keep regretfully looking towards the past.
His eyes fluttered, his eyebrows creasing in confusion as he stared at the sun setting. How long had he been standing there? Jesus, his mind really was his worst enemy. Still, he went to move his body only to wince. “What in the world?” He muttered, his hand grazing over his stomach. However, that seems to agitate the pain even more. Stumbling back, he tried to keep in his groans of pain.
Soon, his shirt was soaking up the liquid pouring from his body. What was going on? Was he dying? Was death finally coming to claim him? He pulled himself towards the door, his body pooling behind him as he reached a hand up for the door knob. Was this his smartest idea? No. However, he knew that the wards would be activated when he opened his door and someone would come for him.
He couldn’t die, not without making sure Natasha was safe – even if that meant destroying the original soul, which in turn, would destroy him. His head fell to the ground, his eyesight blurring before him. If he focused good enough, he swore he could see the flash of red hair.
Closing his eyes, he let the darkness consume his vision.
Pulling up her map on her phone, Natasha confirmed that she was in the right location. Pocketing her phone, the girl made her way up to the safe house, her senses on high alert. Since yesterday, she felt as if someone was watching her – keeping an eye on every movement. Still, she pushed that thought away and made her way up the door, sending a glance towards the security cam.
She had shield agents hack the building, shutting down the traps and exits for the man to escape. Typing in the password, she waited for the door to beep. Soon enough, the door unlocked, letting the girl in. Stepping in, she raised her hands up in surrender as Jacob pointed a gun at her, the safety off. “Jacob Flake?” She questioned.
“Don’t. Move.” He gritted out, his grip tight on the shotgun. Cautious of the gun, Natasha obeyed the man’s rules. “Turn around.” Closing her eyes in annoyance, the redhead turned around, her hands on her head. She could hear the clanking of handcuffs, the cool metal soon touching her skin and locking her in. Of course, she knew she could get out of these in a second, but she decided to humor the man. “Who the hell are you? Why are you here?!
Keeping her face calm, the girl answered the man calmly, “Agent Natasha Romanoff. I’m a Shield Agent. I’ve been sent here to escort you out of here, and to bring you into protective custody.”
He scoffed, his eyes trailing over her figure, “And the best they can send is a child? How old are you? 14? 15?” He sneered. However, his eyes betrayed his real feelings. Raising an eyebrow, Natasha lifted her hands, to show that they were free from the handcuffs. “W-What?--”
“That Shield Agent is you’re talking to is one of the highest-ranking Agents, Mr. Flake. I was a Widow before I joined Shield, which is why they sent me. Now, I’m gonna ask you to put that gun away.” She explained, keeping eye contact with the man. He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. Anticipating what he was about to do, the girl quickly swept his legs out from underneath him, her ears ringing from the shot the gun released. Picking up the shotgun, she quickly emptied it out, her eyes trailing over to the handgun on his desk, which the man was trying to crawl towards, “Don’t even think of grabbing that handgun, Mr. Flake. I have several firearms on me, and I’ve been given orders to bring you in – willingly or not. I will not hesitate to put a bullet in your leg.”
That seemed to stop the man, and he froze, looking up at her with tears in his eyes. “Why?” He gritted out. Raising an eyebrow, she resisted the urge to snap at him, to tell him that she already told him. “You have information, and we want it – before it gets in the wrong hands. Now, are you gonna come the easy way, or the hard way?” A fake smile formed on her face, all teeth, and no warmth.
He gulped but nodded in agreement. Pulling himself up, he raced around the safehouse, grabbing things of value to him. Keeping an eye on him, Natasha allowed herself to zone out slightly, tapping her foot rhythmically. Who was watching her, thought the girl. She kept getting mixed feelings like the person was a threat but also wasn’t at the same time. God, she would kill to have Clint here right now, to distract her from these thoughts. Soon enough, the man was finished packing and nodded toward her, allowing the girl to lead the way.
She raised her eyebrow at the deceive in his left hand, which he fumbled around with nervously. She was about to ask what it was when he clicked a button, the building exploding up behind them. “Okay…” She muttered under her breath, opening the driver’s seat for herself and buckling herself in.
“A-Are…” The man trailed off nervously, gripping his bag in his arms like it was his lifeline, “Are you old enough to drive?”
She was unable to help herself – she let out a small snort. “Mr. Flake, I carry firearm arms on me and you’re worried whether or not I know how to drive? You’re funny.” And with that, she turned the key in the engine, the car starting up with a satisfying purr.
Man, she had a feeling this was gonna be a long day.
With only a few more hours to go until they got to their destination, Natasha felt as if it was too easy – that something was bound to go wrong. With the radio playing quietly in the background, Natasha tapped her fingers along the staring wheel, her lips pursed in boredom.
“So, uh…” Jacob trailed off, awkwardness rolling off of him in waves, “How far are we?”
Clicking the bottom of her tongue, Natasha flicked her eyes up the rear-view mirror, seeing a flash of something out of the corner of her eye. That’s odd, her mind supplied, No one should be around here for miles. On high alert, but making sure to keep a calm front, Natasha answered, “We’re by Odessa, Mr. Flake. We should make it there around,” Glancing towards the clock, Natasha quickly calculated the estimation time in her head, “5 pm.”
Nodding in acknowledgment, which seemed to satisfy the man for a bit, turning his gaze out the window. Using that to her advantage, Natasha tried to scope out any threats as best as she could in the car, fingers itching towards her wand, which was hidden underneath her suit. However, even when her eyes caught sight of the threat, it was too late. Guns went off, shooting out the tires. “WHAT’S GOING ON?” Jacob shouted, holding on to his seatbelt for the life of him.
“Mr. Flake, just stay calm!” She exclaimed, trying to gain control of the car, which was rolling towards a cliff. “Shit!” Trying to protect herself as best as she could, she squeezed her eyes shut, protecting her face from the shattering glass. The man beside her was screaming loudly, his voice getting higher and higher. Personally, Natasha felt like her ears were going to shatter due to how loud his screams were, but she wasn’t gonna say that.
Eventually, the car came to a crash – her seatbelt restricting her movement. Coughing, Natasha winced as she noticed a shard of glass stuck in her thigh. Still, she ignored her pain and turned her head towards Jacob, who looked a second away from having a panic attack. She knew that car was gonna blow any second now, and without wasting a second, she unbuckled herself and dragged herself out of the smoking car, limping over to Jacob’s side. “Mr. Flake,” She coughed, the smoke starting to get to her, “Come on, let me help you.”
Pulling the man out of the seat, she noticed he was in worse shape than her. A large cut was on the side of his head, most likely from a rock, and his left arm was broken. He moaned, holding onto her tightly. “Come on, come on…” She whispered, dragging him away from the crash as quickly as she could. She could feel her magic healing the smaller injuries on her, but knew she would need medical help soon. “Mr. Flake, I need to call for help.”
In her mind, she tried to remember the number for help, but her mind kept blanking – the blood loss getting to her. Groaning, Natasha pulled the man down to the ground with her, her body covering him. However, that seemed to be a mistake. Within a moment, a bullet was flying through her abdomen, and into Jacob’s. Letting out a choked scream, Natasha’s eyes widened in shock as she finally got a full look at who her stalker was.
“S-Soldier?” She choked out, being pushed away from Jacob. She watched as the man tried to crawl away from the deadly assassin, who had a hardened look on his face. Even with her vision getting blurry, she could see recognition flash through his eyes. However, that didn’t seem to matter as he shot the man through the head. With the last amount of strength, Natasha dragged herself towards her gun, which had fallen out of its’ holster. Still, it was for nothing as he kicked it away.
He stared down at her, his eyes trailing to her bright, red hair.
“Красный.”
And with that last word, he turned around, walking away from the scene, seemingly talking to someone on the phone. Trying to stop the blood loss, Natasha placed pressure on the wound. However, she knew it was no use – it went straight through her. With a shaking hand, she pressed the call button on her earpiece and uttered one, single word.
“Help…”
With the sun lowering, so did her eyes as well.
However, her nap didn’t seem to last long as she was shaken awake, meeting dark, brown eyes. “M’am?” The man questioned, his voice gruff even though his face was young, “M’am, I’m Frank Castle – we’ve been sent to help you. I need you to stay awake, okay?”
Nodding sluggishly, Natasha laid her head on his warm shoulder, trying her hardest to stay awake. “I need a stretcher!” She heard the man shout, holding her up. God, she was so tired. But, she knew she had to stay awake.
For her friends, for Sirius and Remus, for Clint and Yelena, and… for Tom.
And with this newfound determination flowing through her veins, Natasha allowed herself to be pushed away from the scene, only one thought flowing through her head.
Stay Alive.