Chasing Ghosts | Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 80: When Fear Takes Over

Before you come at them in this chapter and say how rude they are, remember they're acting irrational because of all the pain and anxiety and exhaustion they're feeling. They're hurting, they're gonna say and do things they don't mean, please don't attack them personally.

June 20, 2024

Twenty-two days does not sound like a lot, but it does when you're waiting for something. In Natasha's case, waiting for the person you love most to remember loving you back.

Things hadn't changed much. Katya's memories were still vague, hazy, and only appeared when triggered. In a single day, around two or three brief flashes came, varying from the first years of her career, to more recent activities with Maya. Every time, they came as a shock, taking long moments to process and give a place. And no matter how hard she fought to see more, to grasp onto them, they never led to more.

Maya was... Maya. Even though her mom didn't remember all the fun things they had done together, she was dead set on making new memories. Her enthusiasm, her ignorance of this whole problem, it was their light in the dark, their sun in the Milky Way, Katya's reason to fight her somber moods and get out of bed in the morning.

Because she didn't want to say it, but slowly, she began to lose hope.

Maybe, just maybe, she should learn to live with this. Give up on getting her memories back and start from scratch. Start anew. She could surely love Natasha as much as the old her did. She could clearly picture it. It wouldn't be the same, but it would be as strong.

But things had taken a turn for the worse after their road trip through town, the 'not trying' meaning not talking. At all. They lived in the same house, slept in the same bed, but that was it. No smiles, no contact, no nothing, just coldness and distance.

There were dismissive answers upon asking a question, Natasha turning her back in bed and shutting off the lights when Katya was still reading her book, physically creating a distance by sitting across the living room on movie nights, or making sure Maya was between them to prevent accidental touching, putting all her attention on Maya to avoid having to talk to Katya.

But to her, Natasha was easy to figure out. The woman was scared and in pain.

The same behavioral patterns repeated over and over again when it came to the redhead. They mostly involved avoidance. Of both topics and situations. Defense mechanisms, clearly, but harmful nonetheless.

Some days were good and almost felt nice, normal. But most days, a weird tension hung in the house whenever Maya was at school. Both Russians doing their own thing, usually one in the bedroom and one in the living room, or the kitchen table and the living room. It included minimal eye contact and conversation, short answers, and cold tones. And all from Natasha's side.

It came out of nowhere, starting the evening of their road trip day. Something brewed in Natasha's head, a fear, that caused her to act like this, probably caused by that kiss or all the good memories they dug up. Didn't truly matter why. What did matter is how rude and cold she acted, and Katya hadn't found the guts to speak up on it, knowing exactly where it would go.

Day twenty-two, which awfully sounds like some sci-fi apocalypse scenario, was one of those tense days. Katya had felt anxious waking up, constantly fiddling, internal restlessness, and Natasha was cold and distant, where she needed her to be warm and calm. Of course, the redhead was allowed to have her moody days, or days where it became too much for her, but this was the same defensive behavior as always.

Her mood swings were not easy to deal with. Though Katya guessed the other way around was the same.

The kettle on the kitchen counter shuddered lightly, emitting steam as the water within reached the cooking point. A mug stood beside it, Katya's fingernails tapping the counter impatiently as the silence in the kitchen rested upon her shoulders. Her wife, at the kitchen table, hadn't spared her a single glance yet as she worked her hands on the laptop.