Assassin's monster
It was a peaceful day, just like when Phil Coulson died. The sun shone brightly without any clouds in the line of sight. Most of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents were assigned to clean the mess that was made during the Loki accident, so no-one paid any attention toward her. She climbed one of many stairs up to the place where she started really trust Phil. She didn't wear her traditional suit. Today it was just simply pair of skinny, dark jeans and old tank top with printing of Black Sabbath. She got this shirt from Coulson as a joke. He knew it very well, that she hate this band, preferring Skillet over it, but sometimes it seemed that he loved to do things like that. It usually made them all laugh till they can't take anymore stupid jokes from Clint or daddy's advice that Phil like to give them both.
She came closer to window and simply sat in front of it, crossing her long legs. It was not common to have some time to yourself, especially if you were a damn good agent. Or it was what Clint used to tell her, when she got drunk (which was not often happening) and started to complain. It is nice to have a moment just for…. Well, she didn't know what for she needs it, but apparently she needed it very much. She should be somewhere doing something to help make the world better. And here she was sulking. She was so pathetic….
If Phil was alive then he would do everything to drag her sorry ass to where she should be at the moment. Now, no-one would do such thing. She knew that many agents feared her and it was a good thing. She didn't like most of the junior agents. And senior agents were… yes, she shouldn't even thing about it.
They never hid that she was not welcome here. Maybe, agent Hill and director Fury appreciate her, maybe Clint needed her as a younger sibling he never had. But that was it. And then she met Clint's handler, agent Phillip J. Coulson. He saw something in her, something that was not only a perfect killing machine that Russian created. He gave her a purpose to fight for. It was more she would ever think of or ask for. "The problem is not what they made you, but what you will choose Miss Romanoff" he said at their first meeting. "I would hate to kill you, especially since Clint made such a good work in convincing you to join us. But I'm afraid you have only two options. Die or become one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s little minions, as you named them." She almost laughs at his little speech. It's not like she ever had a chance to choose anything. They usually ordered her to do something and waited till she gave a success report. So, for the first time she made a decision herself. And she said yes.
"Miss Romanoff?"
She jerked from where she was sitting immediately looking for one of her guns, which she always kept with her. Good for other she always check to who she was shooting. She knew about few agents who firstly shoot and then checked. Like for example that idiot Costrove, whom agent Hill recruited. In front of her with hands held in peace gesture stood Captain America aka Steve Rogers. His face wear this naïve and warm smile, she sometimes envied him. But just sometimes. He was so confused in this new world with his old rules and personality, that she felt pity for him. It was not something she got used to. Well, not easily and without scars.
"Do you need anything Captain?" she used her best empty voice. She was not in mood to spent time with anyone.
"I thought…." He moved a little nervously and she remembered that she was still holding gun that was aimed in his direction. Not a good start of the conversation with Cap, she thought to herself and put back the gun in its holster. "I was wondering..." the blond started again."Can I sit with you here for a while?"
It was such uncommon request that Natasha blinked a few times before she nodded and sat back at exactly same place in exactly same position. Steve stood for a while before he joined her. They sat there in comfortable silence and she felt something close to gratitude toward the old war hero.
"It's a beautiful sight. I'm almost sorry I didn't take my sketchbook with me" Steve stated after some time. She turned a little to look in his direction. He sat with cross legs just like her, but she put his elbows on his ankles. In his pale blue shirt and khaki, he looked like a boy, who for the first time in his life has been looking from such a big distance. She felt her lips shape in a small happy smile and it was weird.
"It's a place where Phil usually goes when he was pissed off at me or Clint or some idiot who had pushed his or her luck" she answered trying to pretend that her voice didn't break a little at the end of sentence. "He used to said that he can think better while looking down"
"And you Miss Romanoff?"
Her?
Why the hell she was here? Oh, that was such a good question. Poor Cap never guess what a good question he asked, not like she was going to tell him. After all, she was the best agent they had.
Maybe, it was her way to cope with Coulson's death. He was a closest thing she had as a father figure in her life. It was still hard to believe that he would never came again to his office and told Clint to put his foot of table or order her to stop thinking about whatever she was thinking and was for sure not permitted by law or S.H.I.E.L.D.'s policy. He knew them too well. Not that ever stops them…
"I never have enough time to think about that" she replied honestly.
"I think that agent Coulson would like you to start thinking about yourself more Miss Romanoff" Steve sends her one of his nice smiles. "Maybe you should join us? We're going to that place Tony was speaking about since the battle with Loki."
"Shawarna, huh?" she stood quickly, with so much grace. "Tell Tony to wait for me or I will personally put on of the arrows he designed for Clint in his sorry ass".
Maybe it was time to stop being a monster and start being the person Phil always believed she was?
It was one of her rare days of from S.H.I.E.L.D. and she decided to go to one place she hasn't visit since her parents death.
"You were right Phil" the redhead assassin put flowers carefully on the tomb. White roses were Phil's favorite flowers, and they usually gave then to him on his birthdays. "I was too scared to live with both sides of me. But since I put up with the darkness inside me it's easier to fight my demons. And for that I will be grateful. It seems to me, my dear friend, that even from your grave you still take care of us."
Author note:
I started writing this some time ago. Personally, I think it hard to write a good one shot about Natasha. But I think that this song is quite suitable for her (for Clint as well) but it should be a story about Natasha and her relationship with Phil. I think he was not only her handler and friend but also someone close to her father figure I don't know if somebody will like it, but it's how I sees Natasha. She is strong, but almost each strong person is afraid to fight her/his demons. I wanted to show that it was possible to win with them.
If you don't like it give me comment so I can give a little more explanation to your questions or arguments, and if you like it give me comment as well.