Chapter 8
2013, 24 March
It's been a while since Natasha's re programming, since her second defect.
Natasha's rebuilt herself, her life, her family.
With her help and Yelena's, combined with the efforts of S.H.I.E.L.D., Red Room has been taken down. Or, almost. Natasha killed Madame. She was easier to take down than expected, once all the other Widows were taken down, or had fleed.
Natasha decided to let them go. Maybe they had a chance of redemption, but if they got on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar, they would be ready.
HYDRA had run off, that damn slippery organisation. Maria was leading another team, of the trustworthy people, to weed out HYDRA agents.
Natasha is focusing on Red Room. Wipe out some red in her ledger.
Her hair is fading back to its blood red again. Red, like her dripping ledger. It was gushing, overflowing, suffocating.
It felt like blood. Got everywhere, she hates having to scrape out blood from under her nails and clothes and hair and body when she was caught in the crossfires or in a carnage.
It was in her nature, the Black Widow, fated. She was meant to live this life of tragedy and death and mist of blood and fury and adrenaline.
But Maria's like the water that washes it away, ocean blue eyes bringing her back. Rooting her into the present, as Natasha.
She unwinds after hard missions by taking long baths. Soaking in luxurious salts and bath bombs. Lights scented candles for her pleasure. Lights candles for those she lost, for those she killed but did not deserve death.
But when Maria comes back home, when Yelena and Galina come back, they watch movies. Act like every other stupid, loving American family Natasha had watched and observed on missions back when she was Natalia and during the biweekly movie screening or criticising the Americans sessions.
Her flame burns steady. She goes on missions with Clint, Strike Team Delta back together.
She winks at Maria, or rather Commander Hill, when she passes by her at work.
She alternates with Maria to drop the girls off at S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy.
Natasha wonders when her life had gotten so oddly domestic.
She wonders if James is okay. Perhaps, she's heard that S.H.I.E.L.D. was keeping him in a coma for him to recover from the slow prodding and poking at his brain, unravelling decades of secrets and scrambling.
She hasn't seen Steve in a while, she'll have to visit him soon. And Tony, that self-destructing dumbass who somehow managed to worm his way into Natasha's life.
"Tasha, oh my god, it's a dog!" Clint squeals, actually squeals, into her comm as she is brought back to the present.
"Clint, I will buy you a dog for your birthday if you shut up," Natasha hisses.
"Oh my god, you'd better. Laura said no dogs, but I've been bribing her. Lila and Cooper also agree, they want a dog too. We've been sending her dog videos and pasting pictures of dogs in the house."
"No wonder the last time she called me she said the place was a dog shrine."
"It's amazing. Dogs are the best."
"No, cats are."
"Shut up you bisexual sapphic stereotypical woman."
"Cats are the best, Liho is the best."
Clint faux gasps.
Natasha scans the area again.
"Betrayal. This hurts more than the time you knocked me out."
"You'll have to be more specific. I knock you out once every two months."
"Every time then, also, any activity on your side?"
"Negative, this mission sucks, its one degree below hell, and I've been at Stark Towers during winter."
"Goddamn Egypt in the summer, literally crazy. This is so much better compared to that."
"We've got eyes on the target. Barton, you're up."