Chapter 1
You rose from the bed, head swaying a little as you clung to the nearest wall of your bedroom, your knuckles turning white at the impact. Safe to say the last few days have been pretty rough. Trudging along the walls, your hand landed on the handle of your wardrobe. You threw the door open and pulled out your black leather stealth suit, your stomach rising with nausea from the smell of gunpowder. You loved going on missions, loved the adventures, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. However, today was different.
You contemplated taking part in this one as you tugged the suit over your hips and onto your torso, wanting nothing more than to stay at home. You didn’t feel ready. In fact, you weren’t. Your knives went missing about a week ago when you returned from your last mission. Where were they? The hazy state of your mind fueled you with newfound anger. How could you be so reckless? Natasha would have killed you, had she known. Shit. Natasha.
Your breath hitched in your throat, panic wracking your features. She was already waiting for you in the landing zone for what must have felt like an eternity. You promised her to be quick when she left the room to start the Quinjet, yet here you were, half-naked and without your weapon.
You scurried around the room, pulling the rest of the suit on, and zipping it up before putting on your combat boots. Stopping by the front door, you looked in the mirror to pull your hair back. Your under-eyes were dark and heavy with the lack of sleep, skin dull and dry. You reached for the heavy doorknob, letting out an exasperated sigh as you stepped out of the living room and into the cool, air-conditioned hallway of the Tower. Tony had it upgraded along with F.R.I.D.A.Y. after the whole fiasco with Ultron. You missed J.A.R.V.I.S.’s humor but you were glad to have Vision on your team.
Shuffling across the corridor, you made your way into the elevator, pressing the button that would lead you to the top of the Tower to meet your girlfriend and the rest of your teammates.
Unruly wisps of hair flew around, tickling your face as you got off the elevator to board the jet. Reaching for Steve, you gripped his palm and hoisted yourself aboard, closing the jet’s entrance.
Your eyes flickered, searching around the interior for your girlfriend. She was sitting in one of the backseats, waiting patiently. Setting out your foot, you decided to join her only to be met with resistance as you staggered, your head spinning again. The lack of sleep was now really getting to you.
You hoped no one noticed your worn-out state, the thought of burdening the team, especially during a mission made you sick. You didn’t want everyone to worry about you and coddle you. If you were honest with yourself, you did have a special someone in mind. You didn’t want Natasha to worry.
You approached her carefully, holding your breath as you sank down onto the backseat as if expecting her to chastise you.
“Here you are!” She beamed, relief overtaking your senses at her reaction. You gave her a faint smile in response as you shifted in your seat to find a more comfortable position.
The jet took off at once, slowly gaining speed and pushing you deeper into the backrest as it flew through the air. You remembered hating this feeling vividly when you first joined the Avengers and you felt rather thankful, motion sickness no longer spoiling your quests.
Suddenly, you heard someone call your name, the action pulling you out of the moment and making you lose your train of thought. You couldn’t quite make out where the voice came from or who it came from, really, brain fog tarnishing your ability to concentrate.
“Y/N,” the voice repeated, “can you come here, please? We still need to discuss strategies.”
You forced yourself to focus long enough to figure out who it belonged to. It was Clint, asking you to go over your plan for the mission. Truth be told, you didn’t have one. You spent the last few days leading up to the job in bed, unable to think about anything other than your misery.
You turned around to face the archer as you stood up, marching over to the other side of the aircraft where he rested, arrows spread over his lap as he readied himself for the mission.
Determined to keep up your façade, you crouched down next to him, prepared to lie your way out of this one and wing it as you went. In all fairness, you were only vaguely familiar with the task at hand. Luckily thinking on your feet was one of your strong suits and undoubtedly what saved you from a complete catastrophe as you strategized on the spot.
When Tony landed the jet, finally interrupting your little meeting as a result, you kicked yourself mentally for being so irresponsible. Guilt crept up on you, swallowing you whole as Clint patted your back, thanking you for the great teamwork.
Taken aback, you straightened your posture as you watched the rest exit the ship one by one. You felt a slight nudge at your bicep. Turning around, you locked eyes with Natasha, the redhead prompting you to follow the group eagerly.
You took a few hasty steps towards the stairs, breathing in raggedly as you made your way out of the jet. Your knees buckled lightly upon making contact with the solid ground, your girlfriend following suit and accompanying you on the battlefield. The door behind you shut with a loud thud, causing you to startle. You were clearly exhausted, and you didn’t understand what brought you here in the first place. You should have just stayed in bed like you originally wanted to.
Dragging your feet across the field, you assumed your respective place as you waited for the enemy to arrive. The Avengers had decided to take this one down covertly, using the element of surprise to their advantage, which turned out to be a wise choice, you thought as the blares of guns and artillery shook up the battlefront.
“Sam.” Wanda’s voice resonated in the distance, making you come out of the initial shock effectively. The witch cocked her head before she headed off in the rival’s direction as the Falcon awaited her order, ready to attack.
“Wanda, just like we practiced,” Steve confirmed reassuringly as he reached the pair.
You watched your teammates tackle the group of foes expertly. Tony flew across the sky, wrecking their efforts with his Repulsor while Bucky swung around, delivering excruciating punches and jabs, courtesy of his bionic arm.
Driven by their progress, you neared one of the bad guys, so keen to swoop in and lend a helping hand, despite your lack of a plan or any forethought for that matter.
“Y/N, don’t.” Natasha’s stern voice sounded over your earpiece mere seconds before you got a chance to blow your cover, prepared to pounce on the target. You knew it was a stupid move, one that would guarantee to get you hurt, maybe even killed, but you just couldn’t find it in you to care.
You exhaled sharply, confidence fueling your fight as you circled the boulder serving as your hideout, sneaking up on your opponent. But before you could take down the nemesis, your pursuit came to a crashing halt. A sharp electric zap followed by a cutting sensation. Your body gave out under the strain of the agonizing jolts, collapsing on the front.
Tears pooled in her eyes, her vision getting blurry as she watched you struggle, your frame seizing on the ground violently.
You never thought Natasha would stoop so low as to use the weapon against you, feeling quite betrayed as the last of the shock waves died down, leaving you limp in the dirt.
“Prosti, malenkaya. (I’m sorry, little one.)” Somewhere in the back of your mind, you recognized her voice as she neared your form. You could barely make out her words, the high-pitched ringing caused by the hit echoed in your ears, intensifying the pain coursing through you, and crushing your insides as she begged between broken sobs.
“I had to protect you.”