Red Ledger [Avengers]

NATASHA

After mailing the letter, Natalie immediately took to the skies, flying the quinjuet as fast as it could towards the coordinates Coulson had sent over to her, mostly likely consisting of the current SHIELD headquarters for level 7 and higher agents. The sky was moderately clear, so the flight was stable and easy which didn't help her case. She had been awake for more than 48 hours now, and she was exhausted. The only thing that kept her awake was the overbearingly loud music that played through her phone speakers directly under her head- she had put her phone inside her top upside down, so the speakers were closer to her ears. 

She tapped, sang, mumbled and yawned for hours until she finally caught sight of SHIELD. She was not surprised when she realized that Director Fury had called for the use of the Helicarriers, as air transportation is crucial from what little information Coulson had given her about this extremely dangerous threat. The quinjet flew closer until it touched the rough surface texture of the Carrier after Natalie had sent in a confirmation code stating that she was who she said she was. 

Once everything was turned off and powered down, Natalie took the opportunity to wear a pair of tight black jeans, not taking off the top- she was basically wearing a skimpy leotard with only a long, sheer black skirt that covered the back and side of her legs. She ripped the stupid skirt and shoved into the duffel that held said pair of jeans as well as the extra weapons she brought, and wore the jeans, pulling the leotard as far up as it could to cover herself as much as possible. Huffing, she gave up and just prepared herself from the judgmental looks and the weird/confused expressions that will be thrown at her left to right.

Rolling her eyes at herself, she grabbed the duffelbag and walked down the jet after opening the hatch, not minding the agent that immediately came forward to lock the jet down so that nothing happens to it when the Carrier takes off. She, however, glared at him when his eyes went a little too far down, his cheeks immediately turning a bright red when he saw that he was caught.

"Men," she scoffed under her breath, flicking a lock of fiery red hair out of her eyes. She walked forward in confidence, heading towards the doors that led inside the main control area of the Carrier. She continued to walk until she stopped, seeing Dr. Bruce Banner look around, obviously overwhelmed. He looked lost as he shuffled on his feet, looking over the edge of the vast vessel every other minute. 

"I wouldn't stand too close to the edge, the wind might knock you straight off," Natalie spoke up, keeping her voice passive and her face emotionless. Banner, upon hearing her, immediately jerked back and walked forward until he was about 1 feet from her. He let out a small bitter chuckle once he found out who she was.

"Of course you would be called in on this, Natalie," she could see the distaste and the anger lurking beneath those brown orbs of his. He didn't like her, not one bit, but Natalie didn't hold that against him. Not many people liked her and she was perfectly okay with it; who needs people when you can only have yourself- when you can only rely and trust yourself?

"Careful there Banner, don't want to go green, now do we?" She smirked, showing rows of perfectly white pearls. Banner rolled his eyes and instead of biting back at her remark, he turned his attention to the people approaching behind the young red head. Turning around, Natalie saw a tall blonde man and a red head walking towards them. She recognized the blonde; it was Steve Rogers- Captain America. She recognized the red head even more; Natasha Romanoff- Black Widow... her older sister.

"Dr. Banner," Rogers greeted the nervous nuclear physicist, shaking his hand firmly. 

"Yeah. Hi. They told me you would be coming," Banner informed him, sparing not glance at Natalie, unlike Rogers, who looked at her curiously, while Natasha just stood there, unable to utter a word.

"Word is you can find the cube," what cube? Natalie wondered silently, stepping back with a confused expression on her face. That must be in the debriefing packet that she never received after SHIELD pulled her out of her mission early. 

"Is that the only word on me?" Banner asked, curious yet bitter at the same time. He looked towards Natasha and Natalie for a minute, before looked back to Rogers.

"Only word I care about," Rogers told him reassuringly, turning back to the youngest red head after Banner nodded in relief. "I don't believe I've seen you before."

"I'd be surprised if you have," Natalie retorted dryly, rolling her eyes when Natasha nudged her ribs, giving her a pointed look to be nice. 

"I'm sorry, you weren't in the file they gave me... My name is Steve Rogers, ma'am," Rogers introduced himself politely, giving her his hand to shake. Natalie just looked at it then up at him with no emotion on her face until he dropped his hand, looking awkward and not sure of what to do.

"Don't call me ma'am," Natalie told him, he just nodded firmly, pressing his lips together. "My name is Natalie." Rogers nodded again, giving her a small smile, a smile she did not return. She turned around and walked away, not bothering to turn her head when she heard light footsteps follow her. 

"Natalie," Natasha called out to her quietly, easily falling in step with her younger sister.

"Natasha," Natalie greeted, her eyes looking straight.

"I'm surprised you agreed to join in on this, knowing how you hate working with other people," Natalie could detect a slight bitterness in her older sister's voice, which made her smirk a little. Natasha always strives to be the very best at everything; the KGB- the Red Room- the Black Widow Program, ballet, a SHIELD agent... everything. With Natalie present, competition and conflict was bound to occur. It always did, even if they were sisters. 

"I'm surprised you did," Natalie pointed out, not answering her question. "But then again, you would do anything for Barton, wouldn't you?" 

There was some definite bitterness from Natalie; she was not a fan of Barton. Never was, and probably never will be. 

Natasha did not reply. She didn't have to, because Natalie knew what her answer would be, and was not surprised, offended or impressed. She finally turned to face Natasha.

"You shouldn't frown dear older sister of mine," Natalie told her sarcastically, "don't want any wrinkles now do we?" A smirk was thrown towards the older redhead's way before the youngest of the two walked away, her heels clicking against the rough ground before she disappeared inside.

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Natasha stood there, watching as her sister disappeared inside towards the main room of the Helicarrier. She noted how Natalie's back was straight, how her shoulders were stiff and knuckles white from clenching her fist too tight around her bag. Natasha was a master at figuring out people based on how they look and act, but the one person she could not gather any information on, was her own sister. 

Some would say that Natasha was an emotionless, killer robot who knows nothing but the life of a former KGB agent and the soul-crushing job of a master assassin. While that may be mostly true for Natasha, it couldn't be more true for Natalie, who was no older than 17. Natalie was still a minor and she already has more kills on her conscience than a field agent 3 times her senior. 

Natasha blamed herself for how Natalie turned out; for how her personality continued to deteriorate even after they were whisked away from the KGB and offered a place in SHIELD. She blamed herself when she stood her up when she just wanted to talk, her only excuse being that she was on a mission, or she was tired, or she was with Barton. Excuses... it was always excuses. 

Natalie only wanted a sister that cared, but Natasha never gave her any of that, and that was what ultimately made the younger Romanoff steel herself off and build walls taller than Mount Everest, and as indestructible as vibranium. Any innocence Natalie kept in her was diminished by her and the people that turned them into killing machines. Into shells of human beings with a ledger dripping red with never-ending blood.