BLACKHILL ONESHOTS

can't sleep

Natasha couldn't sleep. She had only been at S.H.I.E.L.D. for a month or so after defecting from the Red Room, though she wouldn't be able to tell you that without looking at dates since the days blurred together. Two of those weeks were spent in a cell to be sure that she could be trusted and that she wasn't still aligned with the KGB. She spent hours in interrogation rooms selling out her former tormentors, willing to give out every single shred of information she had on Dreykov and Hydra to see them being brought down and pay for their horrendous actions. 

During that trial period of temporary imprisonment, none other than Agent Hill was assigned to watch over her, to be sure that there was no spy work going on. Maria noticed that she didn't talk much. She would only speak if she were spoken to first or commanded to do something. She also noticed that she always had dark circles around her eyes and had never seen her sleep. Natasha seemed upset, but she never shed a tear, no, not in front of these people who were judging her constantly, these people who knew everything about her. She would never let them see her break. 

Once Director Fury trusted Natasha enough to give her the green light, she was assigned a room of her own. She had never had the luxury of privacy, of having her own room and bathroom, and not being stalked by creepy guards. She was free for the first time in her life, though she wouldn't take advantage of this opportunity. She'd be up early, workout, shower and get ready, then sit in her room and await orders, staring at the wall and keeping to herself. If there was a task that day she would do it, and do it well, and return back to her room to shower and lay down in bed to try and go to sleep. Most nights were spent staring at the ceiling holding back tears or sobbing into her pillow. On the occasion she were to fall asleep, she would be haunted by the faces of the women and children she had murdered, reminded of her gushing red ledger, waking up in a cold sweat. This routine was one she held for entire life in the Red Room, it was drilled into her

Tonight was different though. Natasha couldn't sleep, but instead of resorting to her usual pattern, she left her room and snuck into the gym. She knew nobody in their right mind would ever be in there at 3:00 in the morning, so she felt safe enough to try and tire herself to sleep. She cracked the door open slightly and crept in, careful not to make too much noise and get in trouble, even though she wouldn't be in trouble, she was just trained to think that. There were no windows into the gym and it was noise proof, so she turned on the lights and wasn't worried about being too loud. 

Natasha was drawn to the punching bag, per usual. She'd usually wrap her hands, but tonight she wasn't concerned. She wanted to feel pain, to punish herself and wear herself down like she felt she deserved. She began hitting the punching bag, one fist after the other, doing combos with all of her strength behind each and every punch. Her brain kept telling her to stop after a while, but her body kept going. Blood gathered on her knuckles and spread on her hands and the bag, splattered like a crime scene, like every mission she murdered innocent people. This fueled Natasha's fire. Tears streamed down her face, not that she noticed.  Hit after hit, she pounded on the bag, her emotions getting the best of her. 

Maria couldn't sleep either. Every time she closed her eyes she was met with the horrors that occurred during her time as a Marine, the loss of her battle buddies. She got up and threw her hair back, grabbing a bottle of water on her way out. Maria was going to the one place she felt she always succeeded in, her own little escape, the H.Q.'s gym. She wasn't as careful as Natasha had been, she practically owned this place with her ranking being as high as it was, even if some didn't respect her for it. As Maria began to open the door, she saw light creep through the crack and heard feminine grunts and the sounds of the sand filled bags being punched. Nobody was ever here at this time of night. Maria would know, she came in here often to release some anger and energy. She had thought for a moment that maybe she should give this person some space, but she needed to wear herself out and get to sleep, and curiousity got the best of her.

She opened the door slowly and stepped inside. Maria was sure she would have startled the agent occupying the room, but they continued as if she weren't there. She immediately recognized woman, she had watched her for two weeks straight and observed her for the rest of the time she had been at S.H.I.E.L.D.. Natasha Romanoff. Fury wouldn't tell Maria everything about the assassin and her file, but she knew how deadly she was. She knew that this woman in front of her was Russian and that she was a widow trained in the Red Room. The fact that Natasha hadn't turned her head or acknowledged that someone was now staring at her signified that something was wrong. Natasha Romanoff was not okay. 

Maria called out to her, "Romanoff?". Before she wanted to get any closer, she had to be sure that the ex KGB spy knew of her presence. Natasha didn't respond and kept on punching, blood now dripping onto the floor from her beaten and swollen hands. Maria took a step closer and tried again in a louder voice. "Romanoff?" No response again. The Russian hit the bag harder and harder, a sob escaping her. Maria inched towards her once more. "Natasha?" Natasha was in her own world, imprisoned by her mind, only reminded of the blood that was spilled because of Dreykov, because of herself and the monster that she was. The scene had become more intense than when she had originally walked in. Maria was now only a couple of feet away from Natasha. 

Everything within her told her to just leave, that this was none of her business and that everyone has problems of their own that they just need the space to figure out. But, each time Maria attempted to step away, her heart screamed at her to help this woman she didn't even know. She had this feeling that made her not able to leave the red head alone. Maria knew she had to try to fix this. Remembering the one other thing she knew about the new agent she spoke softly, "Natalia." This clicked something within her and snapped her out of rage. 

Natasha stopped and stared down at her hands before leaning against the bloodied punching bag. Maria watched her in that position for a few moments, and Natasha sunk down, collapsing to the floor and sitting with her elbows on her knees and her hands covering her face. She didn't want Agent Hill to see how broken she was, how weak she'd become. Natasha tried to wipe the tears away so she could get up and leave, but they kept coming. Maria moved to sit next to her. The sudden movement made Natasha flinch, thinking she was going to be punished for feeling remorse and being vulnerable. She began to apologize profusely. This worried Maria even more. She sat down beside the Russian and placed her hand gently on her shoulder. "Natasha, it's okay. You have nothing to be sorry for." They sat in silence for a while, time wasn't a concern. Maria didn't dare to move her hand and Natasha stayed still unsure of what to do with herself.

Natasha was the first to speak. Her words mumbled through hitched breaths, "What happens now?" She wasn't crying anymore, her eyes were swollen red, burning and dry. 

"What do you mean?", Maria whispered, visibly confused by the meaning of the question.

"You've seen how pathetic I really am, that I'm vulnerable and weak, you'll never see me the same way." This made Maria's heart sink.

"Nat that doesn't matter to me. Being vulnerable doesn't make you weak, it makes you human." Natasha slightly smiled at the nickname, she'd never had a real one before. Maria reached out and grabbed her now crimson hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Natasha didn't usually like being touched or embraced, it always just reminded her of the disgusting missions she was forced to go on, but this was different and she accepted it gratefully. 

"Thank you.", Natasha barely got out, her voice breaking. 

Maria didn't know the Russian spy very well, only the bad things, but she felt drawn to this woman as if they were fitting puzzle pieces. Comforting her felt right. Finally something other than being an agent felt right in her life. Maria from then on out knew she would do anything to make Natasha feel okay, feel like something other than the monster that they created her to be, the monster that she felt she was. 

"We should get to bed before the rest of the agents wake up. Do you want me to walk you to your room?" Natasha nodded. Maria stood up and then helped Nat up. The two headed to the red head's room. 

When they arrived to the door, Natasha had begun to twist the handle and enter, but turned around. "I don't want to be alone." Maria nodded in understanding and followed Natasha into her bed and helped her get under the covers. Maria laid down outside of the covers on the opposite side of the bed, not wanting to cross any boundaries. With the company Natasha desperately needed, she closed her eyes and eased herself to sleep for the first time in her life that she could remember. Maria did the same. Drifting off, she felt a hand slide onto hers, holding it softly. She held Nat's hand back and smiled.