Go Away

Part Four

Steve's POV

To My Friends,

  I know that a lot of you care about me, a little more than you should, but I need you to understand. I don't feel at home here, and I won't anywhere. What happened in my past still haunts me. I can't stand it. There's no way to fix this, fix me. I'm sorry for all the grief I may cause, but I urge you to move on. Please don't try to stop me if this letter is found before.

With love,

Natasha

I looked up from the letter. I knew that Natasha was feeling down a lot lately, and was harming herself, but I didn't think she would try to end it all. I headed down to the Rec Floor, to show Tony and Clint. 

"Hey, Man." Clint said when I entered the room, him and Tony had been playing monopoly. Neither of them looked interested in the game. I walked over and sat down at the table. 

"Guys, I need to show you something."

I pulled the note out form my pocket, and handed it to Tony, Clint read over his shoulder. I watched as they started to register what it meant.

"Why would she right this?!" Tony asked.

"You know damn well why!" Clint was sad, mad, angry, and pretty much every negative emotion possible.

"What should we do?" I asked the boys.

"We should try to get her to a counsoler or something. Nat needs our help." Tony said.

"How should we tell her? We all know how f-ing stubborn she is." I reminded them.

"I don't know, bribe her?" 

"Umm, guys, where's Nat?" Clint interjected.

We all froze in place. She wrote a suicide note, and we don't know where she is. Natasha shouldn't be alone right now. She shouldn't be alone with the thoughts she has in her head right now. 

"I'll check her room, Tony, you check the gym, Steve, you check the ballet studio."

"We have a ballet studio?" I asked.

***

Nat's POV

I walked into my dance studio, I hadn't even bothered to change into my leotard, and was in my yoga pants and tank top. I didn't care. I want to dance one last time.

I started the music, and started to dance. I felt calm and graceful, almost regretting what I was going to do. I danced for what felt like hours before the memories started to flood in again.

Again.

I started to do the routine once more. I danced until my toes started to bleed, but I kept going. Girls were clasping around me, from exhaustion. I had to keep going, I knew what happened to the weak girls of the Red Room. I kept dancing.

I slipped and hit the mirror. I cursed myself for letting my past distract me. There were shards of glass surrounding me.

The guards walked around me, each carrying a Glock. They started to shoot the girls who had given in to their bodies tiredness. I quickened my pace slightly with every gunshot I heard. I could feel my tibia starting to crack from pressure.

I picked up a large piece of glass, and started to drag it down my already cut up arm. It hurt, but I knew that I deserved it. All I could hear was the gunshots of the Red Room. I placed the piece of glass at my neck. I knew this wasn't the most efficient way to kill myself, but I knew it would cause me pain.

I cut my neck a little before deciding to press it into my stomach. I pulled it out, and was about to stab myself again when I saw someone walk in. I quickly stabbed myself again, hoping I would hit an organ. I was starting to black out when I heard someone say

"Natasha"

It was too late, I let myself be surrounded by the darkness.

***
Steve's POV

It wasn't hard to find the dance studio, I just had to listen carefully for the music. I pushed open the door, only to find Natasha stabbing herself with a shard of glass. There were cuts up and down her arms, one on her neck, and now on her stomach. I ran in. 

"Natasha!" I yelled. She had already passed out. I quickly picked her up, and ran her to the Med bay.

She looked so meek when she was covered with blood, but then again, I probably looked like I was having a nervous breakdown with all these tears pouring from my eyes. 

I ran into the Med bay and quickly placed her on a stretcher. I quickly got the rubbing alchohol, gauze, and necessesary supplies for stitches. I put some of the rubbing alchohol on a cotton ball and started to dab at her wounds, and put pressure on it. 

I pressed my comunnication device, "I have Natasha in the Med Bay, I need medical assistance."