𝐵𝐿𝐴𝐶𝐾 𝑊𝐼𝐷𝑂𝑊

𝐴 𝐿𝑂𝐴𝐷𝐸𝐷 𝐺𝑂𝐷 𝐶𝑂𝑀𝑃𝐿𝐸𝑋

WILLIAM GLASSER WROTE, "WHAT HAPPENED IN THE PAST THAT WAS PAINFUL HAS A GREAT DEAL TO DO WITH WHAT WE ARE TODAY."

Growing up, painful things are bound to happen and those things shape us into the person we end up becoming. Trauma after trauma, Natasha Romanoff knew pain very well – she grew up with it. However, instead of looking at this letter she received with joy and happiness, all she felt was pain.

Her heart ached as her fingers clutched the piece of parchment, her face scrunching up in sadness and anger. She should've felt happy that her friend responded, but that wasn't the case. It was as if all negative emotions took hold of her and weren't letting go anytime soon.

Tom wasn't a good person – she knew that. But, knowing that her first friend in the world was stuck with some crazy snake guy, (granted, that was also Tom, but...) who had a loaded god complex. Everyone has flaws, and Natasha had certainly had many. She didn't care that Tom was a crazy psychopath who had killed people — it's not like she could judge; she's got just as much blood on her hands as he does.

She wasn't a good person, she knew that — no matter how much she tried to change herself, she would always go back to her ways. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath, holding her breath in for a few seconds before releasing.

Hearing her door crack open, she whipped around and locked eyes with Yelena, who had an entire pot of mac 'n cheese in one hand, bowls and Cutlery in the other, and a thing of hot sauce in her armpit. "Do you want some macaroni? I made some!" She gestured to the pot, a large smile on her face. Natasha sniffled, wiping away the rest of her tears and accepting the pot of macaroni from her sisters' hand.

"Why'd you bring hot sauce? Hell, where did you even find it? Remus hates spicy stuff." Natasha asked, climbing onto her bed with the pot and setting it down, grabbing a bowl and spoon from her sister.

Yelena smirked, grabbing a decent amount before pouring a lot of hot sauce on the pasta. "I made Kreacher get me some — all I had to do was bribe him with some new clothes with many pockets." She spoke with her mouth full, Natasha grimacing in disgust as she watched her sister chump down on the Mac 'n cheese.

"Close your mouth," she ordered her sister, doing the so-called, 'mom brow' as Yelena liked to call it. Raising her hands in surrender, Yelena started chewing with her mouth closed. "Thank you."

Natasha chewed slowly as she glanced around the room, her mind in another place. "You wanna talk about whatever is on your mind?" Yelena asked, interrupting Natasha's racing thoughts. "You're doing that thing with your fingers when you wanna talk about something and–"

"--I got the idea, Yelena." Dropping the fork in her bowl, she set the bowl off to the side and flopped down on her bed. "... You ever get the feeling that you're giving sympathy to the wrong person?"