Warning: spoilers for Captain America TWS and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
She looked up into the pale face staring back at her. Who was she? She didn't recognize her, but then again, she couldn't even recognize friend from foe these days, when she used to be able to know who to trust fairly quick. Her whole life, the life she had come to tolerate, was pulled out from underneath her in the click of a button. The pull of a trigger. The release of the fear of being known to the world caused her to fall.
The crystal eyes and brunette blonde hair was foreign to her, as well as her name. She looked away from the mirror to the laptop open on the chair. It read 'Natalie Riverstone.' It was the best she had.
She turned back to the woman in the mirror, intrigued by her features. She pulled naggingly at the wimpy strands of blonde, missing the curls and dyed red pigment. She rubbed her eyes, for they were irritated by the contacts she had to wear every moment of every day, aching for their deep green to be seen. She didn't know how the woman in the mirror could do it, but if she could, then Natalie Riverstone could.
Suddenly, she spoke.
"Natalie Riverstone."
The name rolled uncomfortably across her tongue; foreign. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She didn't mean to, but the words came out.
"Natasha Romanoff."
She gasped, and pulled her hands to her mouth, shocked at what she had said, but rather proud. The woman in the mirror, though, felt differently. She looked scared, and a little angry.
The name 'Natasha Romanoff' had flown so easily across her lips, and she knew, deep inside, that that's what she wanted to be called. So what? So the press knows who she is. What's the big deal?
"Well," the woman in the mirror countered back. "You have killed so many. The whole world knows that now."
"But," Natasha countered back. "It was for the good of S.H.I.E.L.D. Now HYDRA has been shoved into the light."
The woman in the mirror rolled her eyes.
"So some good came of it, but think of your ledger, Natalie. Think of everyone you have killed, just because they looked at you the wrong way."
Natasha cringed, but held her ground.
"Do not, call me Natalie. I am Natasha Romanoff, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Those who I have murdered in cold blood, not a day goes by that I do not feel sorry for them, but I will not let it consume me. I have something to live for, someone, and I do not care about anyone else's opinion. My ledger can wait. I've got HYDRA to take down."
"But Natalie, do you still have something, or someone to live for? Didn't you live for S.H.I.E.L.D.? Look how that turned out. It's in pieces. Nothing. That man you hold so dear to your heart? He could be dead right this very moment, and you wouldn't even know it. Then who would you be? An empty shell, drenched in red. It's your call Natalie."
Natasha shook her head, then sent her hand flying into the glass. It shattered, falling to pieces on the floor, but not before slicing Natasha's hand fairly well. She slumped against the wall, holding her bleeding hand, wondering about what her reflection had said. S.H.I.E.L.D. was down, that much was true, but what about him? Her free hand went instinctively to the tiny silver arrow still chained around her neck. She never took it off.
Was he alive? Could she find some way to communicate with him? Or was she the only S.H.I.E.L.D. agent left standing?
'No,' she thought. There was Rogers, Hill, Wilson, if you want to count Wilson as an agent. She was sure Tony and the others would want to help, but she had no way to talk to them; she didn't trust any means of communication, due to the fact that HYDRA was in so deep.
A sudden noise came from the other side of her door, and she was immediately on her feet. She had been staying in one of her own personal safe houses, unknown to anyone but herself, Fury, Clint, and Coulson, before he died. She didn't know who it was, but she figured they wouldn't be friendly.
Natasha picked up her knife and a gun from the table, then positioned herself beside the door. She listened intently, and decided that there were at least five people creeping up the stairs towards her. She took a deep breath, and waited for the door to open. She heard voices, but couldn't identify them.
Suddenly the door flew open, and the room was illuminated in a brilliant blue light, and Natasha instinctively drew her hand up to shield her eyes. She heard someone yell out.
"Fitz, shut it off!"
The light dimmed, and Natasha stood straight, taking aim at the silhouettes before her. She locked on to one frame, before someone said
"Natalia Alianvoa Romanova. Drop the weapon, or I will make you do a lap."
She nearly fainted. Phil Coulson was alive.