''Thanks for this by the way.'' Katya limped through the corridors of SHIELD HQ. The pressure on her leg had caused it to start bleeding again. Natasha offered to help her, but Katya refused. She didn't want people to see she needed help to walk. So Natasha walked next to her silently, ready to catch her if needed.
She shrugged, all kind of emotions playing with her head. She couldn't believe this was happening. ''You were running away, so I had to do something. Be glad it wasn't your knee.''
''Wow, I feel a lot better, thanks.'' Katya sarcastically replied. Her long braid had released a lot of pieces of hair. They kept falling into her face, but she needed her hands to not fall over.
Natasha didn't answer, just pushed the button for the elevator, waiting for it to arrive. Luckily, it was empty, less explaining to do that way. ''Infirmary,'' she said to the ceiling.
''Confirmed,'' a fabricated voice replied. Slowly, the doors closed and they went up a couple floors, Katya staring at the numbers above the door. The silence wasn't awkward. She knew that with Natalia, you didn't need to talk.
They had talked for some time until Natasha was called away by the man she came to know as Barton. She had left Katya in the room for 26 minutes if she had counted correctly, until she came back and unlocked her cuffs. It was weird to have the Russian touching her again, but it felt so familiar and good.
What the two SHIELD agents had talked about behind the mirror must have been good, because they didn't throw Katya out of the building. Instead, they were fixing her up by bringing her to the infirmary. Natalia was deeply lost in her thoughts, Katya could see that. She let her think, hoping whatever she decided was good.
She couldn't help but glance over to her every now and then. Natalia had changed but was still the same, if that made any sense. She felt the same, she felt safe.
A doctor awaited them in a sterile room, greeting them as they walked in. He looked at Katya in mistrust, but she couldn't care less about what he thought of her. She hopped up on the bed easily, starting to unwrap the bandage. She had patched herself up so many times, she was almost a doctor herself.
''Maybe you should let me do that.'' The Doctor wanted to push her hands away, but the nasty glare Katya threw at him made him back up.
His words didn't stop her from unwinding the gauze. ''Leave the needle and pliers,'' she ordered him around. She knew she had no right to, but she didn't trust others with fixing her up. Her body, her decision. Too many people had mistreated it.
''But-''
''Just do it.'' Natasha, who held some sort of power here, interrupted him. He nodded stiffly and put the equipment on the bed, then walked to the other side of the room, pretending to be busy with something. People were afraid of the Russian here, not wanting to get on her bad side. Katya didn't know whether to be proud or not, Natalia finally taking the reigns for herself.
Katya studied her leg from both sides. No exit wound, so she would have to pry the bullet out, great. ''You couldn't have at least shot it all the way through?'' she mumbled to Natalia. Her right hand picked up the pliers, a quiet hiss leaving her when she poked it into her skin.
That sound triggered something in Natasha, something concerned. ''You sure you don't want him to do it?'' she asked, jabbing her thumb at the doctor. She stood too close to the bed to be a objective onlooker. She cared.
''Why?'' Katya turned her head to the side when she didn't answer, a smirk visible on her face. ''Be careful, Natalia, or I will think you actually care about me.''
Natasha crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the brunette's jab. ''It's Natasha.''
Katya narrowed her eyes at her, studying her face carefully, then returning her attention to her leg. ''No, it's not.''
Natasha was glad Katya didn't see her reaction, because it was hard to explain the feelings she got. The name-change hadn't been random. Natalia was the assassin, the slave, Natasha was a new start. But Katya didn't need a new version, she was happy with the old Natasha, her old name. ''Then why is it Katya?''
Katya didn't answer, just smiled mysteriously while pulling the bullet out. Natasha was smart, always having a good comeback and seeing right through your words. Her hands dropped the bullet in the metal container with a loud cling and picked up the needle next, carefully threading it.
Natasha watched her work, precisely sewing her wound shut in a way that would leave the littlest of scars. It was calming how steady she pushed it through her skin, not flinching once. She remembered Katya had once stitched her up the same way, first carefully taking the bullet out and then sewing it close. They couldn't have been older than thirteen.
Katya cut the thread after she was done, but didn't move otherwise, lost in her head. ''Why didn't you?'' she asked abruptly, surprising Natasha.
A confused sound replied to her question. ''Hmm?''
''Kill me?'' Now, she moved, turning her whole body and dropping both her legs off the sides of the bed so she could look at her old friend. ''I know you could have.''
Natasha shrugged, casually replying. ''Everyone deserves a second chance.''
But Katya saw in her green eyes there was something else, something she wasn't telling her. ''No, that's not all.'' When Natasha didn't reply, she continued. ''It's no use in lying to me, I still see right through you.''
It had always been this way. To everyone else, Natasha was a very hard person to read. When you didn't know her, it was totally impossible. But Katya knew all her little tricks and giveaways. They hadn't changed over the last decade.
Natasha glared at her, not happy she had given herself away. ''Fine. I recognized you somewhere, but I couldn't place you,'' she spat out.
A small smirk formed on Katya's face, happy she could still get the redhead to give in. ''Like I said, it is the hair.''
She only got a eyeroll in return, but that was good enough for her. Rolling a new bandage around the wound, she was ready to go wherever they needed her to. Slowly testing her leg, knowing it was going to be a few weeks until it was fully healed, she decided she could walk on her own. Stubborn. Very stubborn.
They hobbled back to the elevator, leaving the doctor to clean up the mess. ''Detention Level,'' Natasha said to the ceiling as they stepped in.
''Confirmed''
One brown eyebrow raised up. ''Really?''
Natasha didn't look at her when she answered, just stared at the elevator door. ''Be glad, Petrova. It's either that or a body bag.''
A smile formed on Katya's lips. ''Ah, you remember more than just my first name I see.'' Again, no reply. ''Can I at least shower first? I feel dirty and I definitely smell.''
''Good to know I wasn't imagining that.'' Did she just... did she just make a joke? Katya was shocked and stood frozen in the elevator while her friend walked out. Seeing as she didn't follow her, Natasha turned around. ''You coming?''
''Was that a joke?'' Katya asked shocked while she stumbled her way over to the woman.
A tiny smirk came on Natalia's face when her feet started walking again. ''No, that was your blood loss making you hear things.''
Katya shook her head faintly, following the redhead to her cell. It was a nice room, she had to admit, but it was still a cell. And if she hated one thing, it was cells. She had been living in one for a while, but the feeling of being locked up like an animal in a cage was something you never forgot. And even though this clean, white, spacious cell was nothing like the one at Hydra, the same feeling came back to the surface.
Natasha saw her hesitate to walk in and understood immediately. She hated small spaces herself, curtesy of her childhood, so didn't push the woman to walk in.
''How long will I be staying here?'' Katya asked hesitantly, her eyes jumping through the room.
''Until Fury trusts you enough to give you a room upstairs.''
Katya glanced at her. ''You live here too?'' She noticed herself how hopeful that sentence sounded. Maybe a little too much.
Natasha gave her a quick nod. ''Yes. I'm on 24/7 duty, so I need to be on a plane within five minutes if I have to.''
This somehow gave her the push she needed to walk into the room, plopping down on the hard bed. There was nothing to do in here, although a shelve did hold some books. But nothing to write with, something she did to keep her sane. Writing all her thoughts and feelings down was like therapy.
Natasha studied her for a bit, seeing how she looked for the cameras and ways to escape. ''There's a shower in the back. Don't try anything.'' And with those words, she turned around and walked out, throwing the door in the lock behind her.
It turned awfully quiet while Katya sat there, alone for the first time in a couple of hours. That the cell was lined with soundproof walls to throw her off. She couldn't hear the guards walking up and down the corridor, all to prevent her from recognizing a pattern. But what did surprise her was that there was a window in the bathroom. She hadn't seen it when walking in, because a little wall blocked it.
Of course, thick bars were placed in front of it and the glass itself was bulletproof. So thick that not even a missile could come through. It wasn't a way out. But Katya didn't want to get out. Not yet, at least.
The view was amazing. This building was so high that she had a beautiful view of a large area of Washington D.C.. It made her miss her freedom, but it also made her feel less trapped.
Some clean clothes waited for her in a drawer. Someone must have placed them there before Natalia took her here, because they were all her size. They were nothing special, but just the feeling of new, fresh clothes was good enough.
The hot water felt amazing against her skin. Katya couldn't remember the last time she had a hot shower without worrying about anyone interrupting her. Crappy apartments usually didn't have a heating boiler.
Blood, ash and dirt covered the white floor of the shower, the water rinsing it all of her body. She felt like a different person when she lay down on the cot, the thin blanket pulled over her body. It was cold, but that didn't stop her from sleeping.
If Katya wasn't so tired and emotionally drained, she wouldn't have slept. It was part of her training. Always stay alert, even when asleep. No matter how hard she forced her eyelids to stay open, they closed on their own.
Meanwhile, a couple floors up, Natasha couldn't possibly fall asleep. She turned over and over in her bed, Katya running through her head.
It had been a shock to see her again, even if she didn't show it. A lot of the memories were still blurry, but the feelings weren't. It was like the past ten years didn't happen. Like they were never taken apart. It was so easy to fall back into making jokes and just talking to her. Her blue eyes were still the same, they hadn't lost that little sparkle of hope they had always had.
Natasha remembered how the teachers in Russia would hate Katya for that. They could never fully break her, but because she did everything they told her to, they couldn't kill her either. She was too good of a spy for that, even better than Natasha.
That feeling of easiness and comfort had immediately been there. She didn't have to fake or act with Katya, because she saw right through her. They had gone through the same stuff together, so the other woman knew exactly why she was who she was, no explanation needed.
Clint was right, Fury was not happy she had brought Katya back. But he also understood, even if he didn't say it in words. And she would be forever thankful to him for giving her a chance.
Ultimately, Natasha decided that sleep wasn't going to come today, so she did the one thing that would always calm her down. Shoot some guns. But that plan got ruined the second the doors to the shooting range opened.
The bow gave him away immediately. Clint shot arrow after arrow at a target, although he looked calm, unlike her. Not like he needed to blow off some steam or clear his head.
''Can't sleep?'' His voice rang out. He didn't turn around while he spoke, still focused on the bow.
Natasha walked over to him, watching as every arrow hit the center dead-on. ''No.''
His eyes glanced at her face for a quick second, before nocking another arrow. ''Does it have something to do with a certain brunette woman sitting in the cell downstairs?''
No answer came. But no answer is an answer too, especially with Natasha. This finally made him stop shooting and turn his full attention on her. ''Listen, whoever she was all those years ago, she may not be the same person anymore.'' The redhead's eyes fell to the floor. ''People change, Natasha, so be careful, please.''
A strong desire to protect Katya flared up in her, but Clint was right. She hadn't seen her for a long time and they had both grown up. Who knew what secrets she was hiding and what horrible things she had done. But Natasha also wanted to give her a chance to prove that whoever she was now, is still a good person like the fifteen-year-old she once knew. ''You're right.''
''I'm sorry, what? Did I hear that correctly?'' He teased her to lighten the mood.
Natasha just rolled her eyes and walked out, leaving him to his shooting. Clint's advice had been more helpful than shooting a couple magazines into a target. So when she finally reached her bed again, she fell asleep not long after.