Natasha Romanoff One Shots

The Fugitive 

An: request for this one from @NicoNat518. This will be multiple parts but here are some warnings for this set of one shots: Self harm, implied self harm and eating disorders.

*not proofread
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Fury was at his wits end with team. You had managed to escape them yet again and his frustration was starting to rub off on everyone. It was close catch after close catch but every time you had managed to escape.

But the team was finally able to breath when they had caught you. And truthfully, how they caught you stumped them all.

They weren't taking any chances though. They had thrown you into a cell very similar to the one made originally for the hulk, but this one was made to fit inside the compound.

They left you there, for days on end. And for a while you were able to keep up this tough facade, never wanting them to see you crack. Or in this case shake. You were terrified of cells after having spent half your life in one. But no one, not even fury knew your back story.

So you sat there. Huddled in a corner of your cell leaning against the wall so the camera couldn't see you shaking. You sat there, waiting... And waiting for something or someone to come. And when Fury finally did come he left you with an ultimatum.

Join the team or spend the rest of your life in a cell much worse than the one you were in. An obvious choice for you, but a horrible one for the team.

The avengers felt as if they were put on babysitting duty. Not just babysitting duty, but angsty adolescent babysitting duty.

Everyone thought you didn't want to be there, the team knew they didn't want you there so that made for an interesting mix.

You were slow to trust, but so was the team. But while everyone was understanding of the others previous pasts, no one bothered to think that maybe yours was similar.

You were born and raised in a cell. Trained and experimented on to be a weapon with no choice to obey. So you had no choice in what you were doing with your life. When fury gave you the choice to stay in a cell or join the team, that was the first choice you've ever been given that you could make for yourself.

Which is why even though you didn't trust the team, you wanted to. God you wanted to do badly, but you knew that because they had just spent months chasing after you there was little chance.

That became more and more apparent once you joined and were required to show up to mandatory training sessions.

You kept your head down, trying desperately to show that you were one of them without ever breaking the facade of being cool and collected. Which made the team even more wary of you.

They really only let Bucky, Steve or Nat train with you as they were best equipped to "handle" you should something go wrong. You didn't mind though, because it gave you the extra security you needed to ensure you didn't hurt anyone.

And this was truly the only time anyone ever really saw you. You kept to yourself. Trying not to get in anyone's way or cause any trouble. But it was as if everything you were doing was wrong. Comments flew about how you were a double agent and not fit for the team.

How you're a traitor and they're just waiting for the day when you show your true colors. While the team thought nothing of these comments and assumed you hadn't heard them because you're never around. You heard.

You heard all of them. Nothing you would ever do would ever be good enough for the team and with finally being able to feel your emotions for the first time without having to hide them sent you into a spiral.

The first time it happened it had been an accident. You had slipped and knocked over a bunch of the things in the shower and as you quickly tried to pick them up you had accidentally cut your finger.

But the surprising part, was that the pain didn't hurt. It helped silence the voices in your head. It was if all at once everything was quiet.

"You're not good enough"

"You're just a monster"

"She's just a traitor and anytime now she'll turn on us"

"I deserve this"

All of it just stopped.

For the first time you had allowed yourself to cry. You finally allowed yourself to feel the emotions you had been suppressing in order to try to be a part of the team.

Your exterior was slowly cracking. You were slowly breaking, but no one cared enough to see it.

And as the comments got worse so did the pain.

The only thing that helped were the lines you drew yourself on your wrists. No one cared during the mandatory training sessions that you always wore long sleeves. No one cared when those clothes were getting bigger and bigger on your body.

But the safety you had built in your silent suffering and secret wouldn't last forever.

Which shouldn't have surprised you that you'd loose that security when you actually decided to come to one of the mandatory team dinners.

You had slowly made your way down to dinner because FRIDAY told you that if you didn't eat something soon then you'd pass out. And truthfully didn't want to add another thing to the teams plate.

You made your way to the table and just seeing you there shocked everyone. But almost every conversation continued. Except for Nat's. She kept a watchful eye on you as you walked over. When you finally sat down at the table you sat there and waited.

You waited until everyone had the food they wanted before you went to load your plate with only the required amount of food to keep your body going. You should have known that the watch you found in your room wasn't there on accident.

You soon learned that when all hell broke loose at the table when you went to grab some food and your sleeves lifted just enough to show not only the watch, but your scars as well.

No one saw the scars, they only saw the watch. Or so you thought.