marble (part one)

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tw: sexual and medical abuse (I was not planning on making this so dark and I have no idea how we ended up here lol)
word count: 1,7k
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Y/n' POV

"Natasha please, you can't keep doing this" I beg, watching as she grunts in pain. "It's nothing, I'm fine" she says, her voice weirdly calm and controlled. "This isn't nothing! You need to see a damn doctor!" I fight "Y/n, I've had worse! Now leave and let me finish up here!" she spats, pouring more vodka on the gushing wound on her thigh.

Sometimes I hate her. I know I shouldn't because she has this gut-wrenching panic from doctors and medical procedures but I can't control this feeling, I just wanna take her over my shoulder and carry her down to med bay to get her treated.

And it's like this every time- she goes on a mission, she comes back hurt and I find her bleeding in the bathroom. Just like now- she's bleeding like a fucking waterfall, trying to stich herself up with her shaking hands.

"Goddamn it Nat, I don't care if you had worse! You're badly injured and you can't fix it, you need a doctor!" I scream, feeling myself tear up. Why am I crying!? I run my fingers through my hair, pressing down my tears. "I'll be fine!" she argues "You're bleeding out on the fucking bathroom floor, Natasha! God, why are you so fucking stubborn!?" I yell

"Me!? Stubborn!? Look at you! I'm not asking you to be here, just leave me the fuck alone!"

"To let you die in here!? Yeah sure, alright, should I call the mortuary, too!? To let them scrap your corpse of the floor because you would rather die than go to a doctor!"

"Fuck off, y/n!"

"You got stabbed three times, I'm not gonna 'fuck off'! I swear to God if you don't pick your ass off the floor and come with me in the next ten seconds I'm gonna call a bunch of agents up here who are gonna drag you downstairs!"

"You're not gonna do that!"

"Oh yeah!? Watch me!" I yell, picking up my phone, ready to call Fury so that he can send agents up "How come you rather would quiet literally die than to go get help!?"

"Don't you dare go there!?" she hisses, the needle in her hand cracking open the skin of her hands as her fists clench

"Yeah well I want fucking answers, you're not dying on my watch!"

"You have no idea what they did to us!" she screams and the room falls quiet.

She turns to look up at me, her eyes filling with tears "You have no idea what they fucking did to us" she whispers, her voice betraying her. I let my phone slide back into my pocket before kneeling down to her hight. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that" I apologise genuinely "I'm just really worried and the state that you're in scares me". She doesn't say anything, her eyes shifting to her hands and before I can protest she continues stitching up the gash on her thigh. "I'm sorry Natasha, you're coming with me now, I'm taking you to a doctor" I say determined "Y/n, no!" she says, raising her voice "It's either me or a squad of agents dragging you down! I'm damn serious, right now" I say, the situation heating up again.

"I fucking hate you!" she spats, dropping the needle before letting me pull her up to her feet more or less "Are you done!?" I ask, hooking her arm around my neck and supporting her by her waist so she doesn't fall over.

-

We've almost reached the entry of the med bay as suddenly Natasha completely stops in her tracks. I look down and instead of a badass russian assassin I find myself looking at the sight of a scared little child. "Nat, hey" I mumble, gaining her attention "I don't wanna go, please y/n" she says in a quiet whisper "I'm right by your side, I'm not gonna leave, no one, no one, is going to hurt you, you understand? I will not let that happen"

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