Black Widow: An Origin Story

Conflict and Ugly Revelations

A/N: HEADS UP!! There's a bit of language in this chapter.

"Get dressed. We're leaving."

"Rogers, did you follow me?"

He storms over to the target, hauling him up by by the back of his neck. He doesn't even look back before launching my clothes at me. Luckily, they'd been aimed well, but it only infuriated me further.

"Hey! Answer the damn question, Rogers. Did you fucking follow me?"

He whirls back to face me. He was so angry, you could practically see the steam shooting out of his ears.

"I said, get dressed. That's final."

He slams the door on his way out. I glance over to Bucky, and he looks quite uncomfortable.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He turns away and heads out the door, following after Steve, most likely to keep him from killing the man.

He owed me an explanation. And an apology. And I would not be leaving this house until I got both. He would have to physically drag me away, which would be impossible for him to do.

I slip back into the dress; I'd left my suit in the bag on the back of my bike. The air had chilled, leaving a trail of goosebumps across my exposed flesh.

I found the two waiting by the back door, four guards scattered at their feet. Brecht was slung over Bucky's shoulders. His face was already swollen from the multiple hits he took. Phillips was going to kill us.

"I want an answer, Rogers. Did you follow me?"

"I do not answer to you, Romanoff," he spits, pointing a finger back at me. "Not after what you've done."

"You fucking followed me, you son of a bitch. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I didn't even have to think about it," he answers harshly. "You haven't been cleared by the medical staff and you went behind our backs to do what you wished to do! I followed you because you could have gotten hurt. But now I wish I'd never come."

It would've felt better if he'd slapped me in the face. A whole lot better.

"Now get in the truck."

I was left speechless, reluctantly following James into the back of the truck with our new prisoner.

I stayed as far away from James and Brecht as I could. Brecht, it seemed, would be unconscious the entire drive back, and James might be just as silent.

When we arrived, it was later than I would've preferred, as soldiers were getting ready for training. Damn truck takes too long to drive.

Steve hauls the nearly naked man from the back, completely ignoring me. If he only knew the fire he'd started that was close to igniting.

"What the hell is going on here?"

That voice had us all turning heads as Peggy walked over.

"And why do you have Brecht with you so beat up and practically naked?"

"Why don't you ask her?" he snaps, jerking his head back in my direction.

Her eyes turn to me, quickly scanning the dress I had on, and back to the state of the man across Steve's shoulders.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I snarl.

"Take him to one of the interrogation rooms," he commands a couple soldiers. "We'll deal with him shortly."

Those tasked with the man were quick to scurry away, feeling the rising tension.

"I should be asking you that," he growls, turning to me.