It's was Natasha's first day at her new school. She wasn't nervous, her father moved her around a lot so this was almost routine for her. She caught guys staring and girls whispering. She rolled her eyes as a group catcalled before opening her locker and shoving her books inside. As she was doing so the whole corridor fell silent. A large group were waltzing down the hall, the students parting like the Red Sea. She peeked her head up and caught sight of the popular group. What she was expecting was the football team with cheerleaders hanging off of their arms. What she didn't expect to see was just five guys ranging from bulky hunk to skinny dweeb.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she whirled around. In front of her stood a tallish gangly boy with sandy blonde hair and hearing aids. His crooked grin almost matched his crooked nose. "Hey, Tasha right?"
"Natasha." She eyed the boy warily but he just waved her off.
"Sure whatever. I'm Clint Barton and I'm here to protect you from the monstrosity that is Brooklyn Heights." He held out a hand and she took it cautiously. Immediately she let go as a sharp spark of electricity ran up her arm.
"Really? A joy buzzer?" He shrugged and continued to grin.
"I've got reg first in 21b? Then I've got biology so hurry up Barton before I shove that buzzer somewhere I know it won't be welcome." He grinned wider and offered his arm.
"Right this way m'lady. I fell like we're going to be the best of friends." She shook her head disbelievingly but never the less, took his arm. She shut her locker and he pulled her into the jostling crowd of students. She was pushed and pulled and pinched and practically trampled alive. Until some strong sort of force yanked her backwards and she cut through the stampede like a warm knife through butter, straight into the back of one of the populars.
They both stumbled but he managed to catch himself whereas she hit the floor hard. He turned around in surprise and looked down at the red head. He offered her a hand and she gladly took it. His eyes widened at her beauty but hers narrowed at their wrists. Warm light was glowing softly from their soulmate marks. Suspicious, she ripped up her sleeve and sure enough the small inked name in scrawly writing shone with a pulsing light. "Hi, I'm Bucky." He held his hand out for her to shake and she did so, but inside she felt only disappointment. The name on her arm was James, not Bucky.
"Natasha." Similarly he felt the same. The neat loopy writing on his wrist read Natalia, not Natasha. "I'm sorry for running into you."
"Hey it's no problem. How about you make it up to me by meeting my friends?"
"Only if you meet mine." He grinned.
"Sure. Why not?"
***
A couple months later and Natasha was lounging on the sofa in her sweat pants with her boys. They were all sprawled out in Bucky's basement, having just finished a Harry Potter movie marathon. They'd been outraged when she admitted that she'd never watched them, Sam seemed to have taken it as personal offence. Now though they were stuffed full of popcorn and other rubbish with blankets tossed everywhere. She had a leg slung over Bucky and was leaning against Clint's shoulder.
Steve was sat on the floor with a boyish smile. Sam lay next to him, a bowl of kernels balanced precariously on his stomach. They were happy and content. That is until a shrill ringtone broke through the slumbering silence. Natasha recognised it as her own and rolled off the two boys, digging through her bag for the nefarious noise. Once she found it she checked the caller ID. "I've got to take this one." She smiled weakly and practically ran out of the room. She was pale and shaking yet no one seemed to notice apart from Bucky. He frowned in concern and followed her to the bathroom.
Natasha's hands shook as she answered the call. "Come home now." She was in trouble. His voice was calm, scarily calm meaning he'd passed all stages of rage and was now simmering in cruelty. Tears dripped down her face as she nodded. She was in for a world of pain tonight. Her father was merciless. Ivan Petrovich wasn't even her real father, she was adopted. Yet for some reason she couldn't leave him, couldn't escape. He'd moved her all over the globe, whenever someone got suspicious or caught a glimpse of her permanently purple ribs they would pack up and go. Then she would be punished for giving them away.
He ended the call and she slipped it into her pocket, still shaking. Chances are she'll be moving tonight so no need to get her bag from the boys, she should just walk out the door and face her fathers wrath alone. And that's what she would of done had Bucky not intercepted her on the stairs. "Where you going?"
"Home. My grandmother just died." His face became sympathetic but it was clear he didn't fully believe her. Unbeknownst to her he'd been keeping tabs ever since he caught a peak of her back when he streaked through the girls locker room for a dare.
"Wait here, I'll go get your bag and then I'm walking you home." She shook her head but he was having none of it. "Wait here."
As he descended back into the basement, Natasha crept up the stairs and opened the front door. She made it halfway down the road before he caught up with her and fixed her a disapproving glare.
He practically threw her bag at her and she caught it, flinching away as his hand raised to run through his hair. He eyed her suspiciously and she turned away. "Nat, why do you let him do this?"
"I don't know what you mean." He sighed disappointedly before his phone started ringing. He fumbled around with it before answering.
"Hello."
"Hi James sweetie, mommy's just calling to make sure you're all right and you're tucked into bed." He went bright red and Natasha would of teased him was she not reeling at the name.
"Mom I'm fine, goodnight, I love you." He hung up and turned to face Natasha, preparing himself for the merciless teasing. Instead he found her stock still and pale, staring at something in the distance.
A man stood next to a car. Keys dangling off his fingers and cases strapped to the roof. "Get in." His voice was quiet. Natasha bowed her head and made to obey but Bucky grabbed her arm and held her back. He glared defiantly at the man. He growled. "Natalia Alianovna I will not ask again." The name sounded familiar but Bucky dismissed it as he refused to let go of the shaking girl.
"She's not going with you." She looked up at him in alarm and the man stalked closer.
"Who are you?"
"Her friend, and unless you leave right now and never return then I'm calling the police and having you arrested for child abuse."
The man glowered and turned on Natasha, practically spitting as he dismissed the boy and yanked her forward by her shirt. "YOU BITCH." He slapped her hard and she just stood there, still trembling. Bucky's temper rose and he pushed the man back.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"She's my property!"
"She belongs to no one!"
The man threw a fist at Bucky and caught him on the jaw. He stumbled backwards before replying with one of his own, socking him in the gut. The man decided to play dirty and punched him in the balls before picking up a slab of concrete and smashing it into the side of his head. He hit the ground hard and felt hot blood running down his face. Somewhere above him he heard a scream and the sound of pounding flesh. A man's voice cursing and then the sickening snap of bone followed by a shrill shriek.
Natasha watched Bucky fall and immediately went to protect him. She blocked her fathers blow and for the first time, fought back, poking him in the eye and then breaking his nose.
He wiped the blood with the back of his hand and smeared it all over his face before catching her wrist and breaking it as easily as breaking a twig. He flung her to the floor next to the boy and stomped hard onto her ribs before raining blow after blow onto her bruised and bleeding form.
Finally, when his rage had subsided, he pulled her up by the hair and dragged her in the direction of the car. "I told you to get in the car." He hissed in her ear. Barely conscious, she closed her already swelling eyes and nodded, tears seeping between the cracks.
He pushed her up against the car and turned around to check on the boy, only to be greeted with a brick to his temple. He dropped like a ton of bricks and smacked his head against the tarmac. Natasha looked up at the form of Bucky, a brick in one raised hand and the other stemming the bleeding from the gash on his head. She gave a weak, hesitant smile at him before collapsing.
He caught her in his arms and gently tapped her face. "C'mon Tasha, keep your eyes on me. The police are on their way and then I promise you never have to see that monster again. You can come and live with me and Steve, yeah? Hey, hey Tahsa, cmon stay awake." Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as sirens wailed down the street. "We're gonna be ok. We're gonna be ok."
A soft golden light twisted into threads and bound the two together. He, protectively cradling her to his chest and her, slumbering in his arms. The names on their wrists shining through the scarring and forming over the others heart.
A/N This feels rushed. Thoughts on SM:FFH trailer? Also I started watching the Runaways and it's so good.