She could have died.
She almost didn't make it.
Had the cut been any deeper, it would have sliced through an organ, an artery, bone - perhaps ending her life for good.
She was lucky.
Or as lucky as she could be.
It had been a fairly simple mission - to intercept a package traveling by train. But when she found out the package was a man - a hacker - things got complicated very fast. And as her luck would have it, she wasn't the only one after him. One of the third party members had a thing for knives and was all too excited to "demonstrate" his talents on Natasha. The mission ended with the package dead, and her jumping off the train with what's left of her life.
Although, it wasn't a complete failure, as Natasha managed to snatch his briefcase during her escape. But unless there was a cell phone or a first aid kit in there, it wasn't much use to her at the moment.
So now, here she was, in the middle of nowhere Siberia, trudging through snow with a briefcase in one hand and covering the gash on her stomach with the other. Sure she's been in worst situations but it's these days that make her miss lying on the couch with a bowl of M&Ms and watching tv at home.
Home, what time was it? Probably around 1am in the morning back in America. Tyler's probably asleep by now. Although she claim to not care, she always made an effort to get home before he woke up. Granted, when she does get home she immediately collapses on the bed, treasuring the 2-3 hours of sleep she had before she was woken up again by the hungry little boy. It was tiring, yes, but that was her life, and she wouldn't change a thing.
Well except maybe now.
How long has she been walking? 15 minutes? 30? The train was long gone. The cold helped keep her from bleeding out too quickly but freezing to death was a real possibility.
Then she saw it - a small cottage in the distance. Just one single cabin on the edge of the woods.
By the time she spotted it, it didn't take her long to arrive. She stumbled into the house.
It was empty.
Her luck.
The cottage was bigger on the inside than it had appeared outside. She searched around and collected a few makeshift medical supplies: needle and thread from the sewing basket, medical gauze from the bathroom, and a bottle of vodka. She poured herself a well needed drink before cleaning and stitching her wound. After wrapping the gauze around her waist, she proceeded to stand up, wincing slightly in pain as she does so. She fetched the briefcase and opened it up to view it's contents. To no one's surprise, it was a computer. There were several programs running, many of which natasha didn't understand. After all she was a spy, not a hacker. But she did, however, manage to send an SOS frequency to SHIELD.
She fetched some firewood and lit the fireplace to warm up the cabin. By her estimation it would probably be another half hour before a quinjet arrives. In the meantime she decided to explore the cabin. Although it was kept in good condition, there was a fine layer of dust on most of the furniture. It's probably been a while since the owner's been here.
The furniture was moderately old fashioned. Like the type one may find at their grandparent's house. It contrasted greatly with her other safehouses she had (which resembled pages of an Ikea catalogue). Even her apartment back in Manhattan was furnished with impersonal furniture. But not this house - everything in this house had a personal touch. From the choice of lamps to the kitchen sink, everything had a story behind it.
She could read the owner through his house. He was male, he enjoyed the outdoors and solitude, perhaps that was why he built this cottage in the middle of nowhere. He had a wife, a wife who died leaving him with their only daughter. The sowing kit was his wife's and when she grew up - his daughter's. There were many mementos of his wife around the house - the rocking chair, the vase, the curtains. He had taken all the food and clothing from the cabin before he left - which meant he was probably never coming back. Natasha didn't know why he left, perhaps it had something to do with his daughter.
Nevertheless the cabin was now abandoned, and completely off the grid. A very safe safehouse.
She reached into her catsuit pocket hoping for a piece of chewing gum or mint to satisfy her hunger until SHIELD arrived. Instead she pulled out a folded piece of paper. She frowned then unfolded the picture - it was a drawing Tyler had given her, right before the mission in Barcelona two weeks ago. She had shoved it in her pocket in a haste and forgotten about it.
Natasha realized she hadn't even gotten a good look at it. Although it was hardly a masterpiece, she could tell that he had worked very hard on it - and that he had an exceptionally hard time finding a crayon that matched the shade of her hair.
She chuckled.
She wasn't supposed to get attached but it has proven to be extremely difficult when it comes to Tyler. It seems that the more she pushed him away the more determined he was to come back.
It didn't seem right to just throw his work away. In fact she has never thrown any of his drawings away. They have just been left here and there, buried between mission dossiers or, well in this case, in her pocket. She never really considered what she would do with them when they start to pile up. Perhaps she could keep them here. Her own little storage.
She found a couple nails and a hammer in the cabinet beneath the sink and nailed the drawing on the empty wall above the fireplace, then doused the fire beneath it.
When SHIELD arrived she collected her belongings and left the cabin the way she found it with the addition of the Tyler's drawing.
Almost a month passed since her stay at the cabin. In fact, she'd almost forgotten about it. It wasn't until she found a second drawing tucked between her mission files that it occurred to her. On her way back from Mongolia, she decided to make a pit stop at the cabin.
To no one's surprise, it remained the same as when she left it, with the drawing still hanging off the wall with a single nail. She decided she might as well pin up the second drawing and used bits of medical tape from the quinjet's first aid kit. She also decided to leave a bottle of vodka behind to replace the one she had used the last time.
As time passed, she found more and more excuses to visit her safehouse. Each visit granted the cabin with a new addition to its wall exhibit along with a few supplies. Within a year, half the wall was filled with drawing and even photographs of Tyler and herself. That was how she documented his childhood.
The cabin itself was also stocked with the supplies one might find in any shield safehouse, but with an unintended personal touch - the fridge stored more SHIELD imperishable pancakes than any other safehouse. There was an emergency duffle bag in the closet, most of which was filled with clothes suitable for a young boy. There was also his old stuffed dinosaur - Natasha doubt he would miss after she bought him his current one - a few toys he believed was "lost" and an old sweater.
As far as stories go this sweater carried quite the one. It was the sweater Clint had given her for Christmas - no, that one was frozen solid after Tyler decided to take a dip in the ocean wearing it. This was the replacement Tyler had gotten her. The one he bought with a few coins he had saved up. The sweater itself was inexpensive, but for a child collecting mere quarters, it must have been a difficult buy.
The rest of the house reeked of personal touches from the scented soap in the bathroom to the coffee mugs she had brought. It was also cleaner than when she first arrived as she would dust the furniture of sweep away the cobwebs during any spare time. Back home, she wouldn't have dared expose her sentiment side. For if even one child's drawing was found in her house, it would risk the life of the child that drew it - in her case, it her son. Not her biological son, of course, she had no children of her own. But she had, in her own way, adopted Tyler. She stopped pushing him away, she even stopped flinching at his occasional drop on calling her "momma". Though their little family life was far from normal, she did the best she could for the little boy.
But the little boy was growing up fast and as time passed she wondered how much longer she had left with him. As the odds would have it, she would eventually slip up or something would happen that would part them for good. That was why she never gets attached - a rule enforced by both Red Room and SHIELD, mildly for SHIELD but nevertheless it was the same reason she was never open with her relationship with Clint.
Clint - he was one of the few people that knew about the cabin - him and Maria Hill as she was the one to pick her up on the first night. She made him promise that if anything was to happen to her, this would be the first place he'd take Tyler. She wondered what his reaction would be - shock? Confusion? Happiness?
She wouldn't be there to see it.
Or maybe he would never see it, and maybe he'll never know how much she loved him.
But it didn't matter - whether he knew it or not.
All that mattered was that she did love him.
And she loved him very much.
