Couldn't get the idea out of my head, so here it is!
"Tag! You're it!" Natty ran, sprinting as fast as her little legs could carry her, but somehow James still managed to push her back. Natty turned, spying for the pillow of sun blonde hair, knowing how well Steve could hide.
Being as small as he was, he couldn't run very far, however he always found the best hiding spots.
When Natasha couldn't find him and James kept running away, she pulled out her clever tricks, her bottom lip curling downwards and her eyes bulging in size, all it took was one shaky breath and Steve dropped clumsily from the tree he'd previously been occupying.
Quickly Natty turn and tagged him, before attempting to dash off but Steve, knowing her better than expected, was prepared. He jumped onto her back and the two children began running in laughter, James soon appeared and the laughter continued.
"Natasha!" Natty's mum yelled from the car-park, Natty turned back to her friends and waved before dashing away. Steve and James staring and watching the car until it was out of sight...
Natasha snapped awake, her breath hitched, wiping away the distant reverie as if it were a bead of sweat. Her shaky breath and damp skin portraying the memory as a nightmare, in a sense it was.
Not that you'd be able to tell, unless you knew...
Glancing at the cloak Nat saw it was 5:24, she'd be getting up in an hour anyway, no point tossing and turning aimlessly whilst sleep mocked her pitiful attempts.
Hurriedly Natasha pulled on her running clothes, with any luck she'd be able to catch the last few strands of the first sunrise of the new school year. The summer holidays officially ending last night but somehow seeming like years had separated the previous evening with this morning, this year Natasha would be a sophomore...this year things would be different, incomparably different.
Natasha gulped, exiting her house and shutting the door quietly behind her, knowing her mother would be getting up soon and that her father would have already left for work.
Her jog to nowhere became a sprint as she neared the park; too many memories, too many emotions and connections. Her intended half an hour route turned into a 15 minute sprint as soon as she'd lapped the park twice before charging home, craving to push down the rising tears.
As she neared her door, Nat paused, turning to the neighbouring house and seeing a curtain tug tautly closed, his curtain.
Figured he couldn't sleep, also.
Natasha returned inside and wordlessly ignored her curious mother, certain if she even paused for a morning smile; the iron sky threatening to wash away the sunshine would break her snapping resolve to continue.
Nat jumped into the shower, allowing the water to turn hot until it was scolding her skin, she stayed under the painful steam for several minutes before remembering how to detect a stimulus; flinching with the sudden heat she turned off the shower and escaped the gnawing questions eating away at her detached brain.
She dressed simply in black jeans and a red-checked shirt, pulling on her black converse and racing for the door before her mum called her back. Handing her forgetful daughter her school bag and an apple that would remain untouched.
The arched eyebrows and frigid stance told Natasha that her mother was going to say something "You really don't have to go back today."
Nat licked her dry lips, fiddling with the apple in her hand "And what? Sit at home and stare out the window all day like you?" the retort obviously hurt her mum, though Nat made no move to comfort her, "Sorry mum...it's just, if I don't go back today I don't think I'll be able to tomorrow or the day after."
Her mother nodded, still offering her version of support "We could always try a different school? Maybe even home tuition?" Nat shook her head stubbornly, "You know Ja..." she gasped, almost choking on the word "You know he wouldn't want that."
After several shifts of her feet and avoided, caring glances Nat stared at her watch, before hugging her mum quickly, too quickly for either women to feel anything though her mother tried, she always tried - that was the one thing that always made Natasha feel bad, but so it seemed not guilty enough to try as much as she should - then as if she hadn't been there seconds ago, Nat exited her house - not home, house.
Truthfully, Natasha hadn't been there seconds ago, not the real Natasha. At least this Natasha told herself that, told herself that the old Natasha hadn't been round since the accident and if the days continued their dearie descend she wouldn't be returning anytime soon.
Natasha waited at the bus stop, only realising upon arrival that she was several moments too early.
By moments, she means hours. Nonetheless, Nat felt no need to return to her house, slowly she pulled her book out of her book and began scrolling aimlessly through the pages of meaningless text.
She used to love reading, now she found the concept pointless and dull. She used to love a lot of things, but with one accident that was taken away, he was taken away and he took everything with him.
Blaming him was stupid and selfish, but she did it anyway.
Soon the numbing fog of boredom set in and her vision was clouded with the satisfying feeling of nothingness.
Natasha didn't notice the people arriving around her, she didn't notice the odd looks she got or the annoyed snide comments she received when ignoring their requests for her to budge up on the bench.
It wasn't until a voice broke through her throats that she noticed the rumbling bus before her either.
"What?" She stuttered, her eyes focusing on the tall figure before her.
"Aren't you coming?" repeating the question allowed Natasha to hear it, really hear it. Her ears picking up the familiar but unheard tone instantly, her eyes brushed upon his face out of habit.
Suddenly the situation dawned on her and Natasha grabbed her book and bag, forgetting about the apple, and trudged onto the bus, neglecting to acknowledge the staring students.
She sat in an empty row in the middle of the bus, purposely shoving her back in the seat next to her.
Though that gesture was soon knocked rudely aside as Steve Rogers moved her rucksack onto the floor and sat next to her, holding her beaming apple whilst wearing a shiny smile.
Just seeing his face made Natasha shiver, she pulled her shirt tighter around herself and accepted the apple. Somehow finding the hunger to eat it if only for the excuse of having something between her gnawing teeth.
Steve seemed to pick up her reluctance to talk immediately and followed her lead by resting silently for the remainder of the journey. Once they arrived at school and evacuated the bus, Steve turned to offer to walk Nat to her homeroom but Natasha had already fled the scene and was racing inside the building.
Homeroom was a dull as she remembered but luckily just as short, she soon found herself wondering off for her first period: Spanish.
Natasha had always been a bright student, but she had always excelled at languages.
Once inside, Nat sat at the back of the class, hoping to sink into the scattered wall behind her. Once her class began Natasha found there were a few familiar faces, but the majority of people seemed to be knew; she was either ignored or unseen by both the teacher and students, lucky for her.
As the day continued its slow journey, Nat found herself with the majority of the same faces for her lessons.
All of whom she intended to avoid to the best of her ability.
At lunch Natasha sat alone in the corner, pushing her fruit salad around as if it were a jigsaw waiting to be finished.
Subtly a hand crept round her shoulder, stealing a piece of melon off her tray and then occupying the seat next to her. Nat looked, startled by the quick movement, her smart retort held on the tip of her tongue when she saw his familiar face.
He'd been in all her lessons so far; he had blondie brown hair, dark, questioning eyes, a sneaky smirk at the ready and thick, furrowed eyebrows. He was draped in a colourful outfit, consisting of black, black and some more black.
Natasha was at a loss for words, her mouth grasping for something say. What did you say to a stranger who just stole some of your melon?
The boy continued to sit with his legs crossed, a glimpse of amusement in his glazed eyes whilst his tongue turned this way and that, fiddling with his teeth.
Finally he caught the thread Natasha was so desperately reaching for "Oh, by the way I'm Clint, Clint Barton." he didn't offer his hand, but instead rested his feet against her chair, smiling a overly comfortable grin.
Nat's senses were drowned with the overly peppered tang of distaste, "Okay, well Barton why did you steal my melon?" He avoided the question.
"You didn't tell me your name."
"You just stole a piece of my melon, you haven't earned the privileged of receiving my name." His eyebrows arched daringly. Natasha repeated her previous question "Why did you steal my melon?"
Barton leaned back into his chair and shrugged "I was hungry." Natasha was going to say something else when she a got a strong urge not to, her eyes spinning from the deserting lunch line and Clint's craving eyes.
Puffing out a false sigh of disgruntle, she pushed the remains of her lunch tray towards the boy.
At first he just stared at it and then back at the red head "I don't take pity."
Natasha pursed her lips "That word doesn't run in my vocabulary." She stood, collecting her few books "Either you get the leftovers, or they go in the trash." Her tone was final and as much as Nat wasn't in the mood for making friends she wouldn't let him go hungry.
Before he could ruin the quant moment by thanking her or asking for her name again, Natasha fled the canteen.
Not noticing the statue still structure of a spying Steve Rogers.
Her last lesson of the day was history, yay!
History used to be her favourite lesson because it used to be Steve's and it used to be his.
Without a shadow of doubt, the three of them had been the teacher's pets if only in that one lesson, they'd always volunteer to do extra tuition, always stuck their hands up and were the first to hand in homeworks.
But now...
Natasha didn't know what now would require, she certainly knew that none of those previous commitments and unspoken traditions would continue to commence. They'd soon fade away, as Nat feared his memory already was.
Last period ended with Natasha having her first assignment of the year and it was a partner assignment, the teacher had given them enough leeway to decide who they wanted to work with and at first Natasha had remained glued to her desk, watching and waiting as all the students jumped and leaped; their chatters to determine who worked with who an ocean of endless noise.
Once everybody had settled down, somewhat, Natasha turned seeing her lunch time...companion, making his way towards her. No, no no no! She didn't want this, this was what she didn't need.
Natasha just wanted to do her work, and do it alone.
She wasn't here to make friends, she wasn't here to make new bonds or relationships with people.
Quicker than a flash she jumped from her seat, corning the slightly stunned teacher "Sir, please can I do the assignment alone?" The teacher's head twisted to the right in a hard frown.
"And why would you want to do that...Ms Romanoff, is it?" Natasha nodded once.
"I don't work well with others, sir."
The peak of a smile broke the hard scowl, that smile, the smile teacher's wore when they thought they had the solution. The one and only solution, the smile that said, 'I know, I'll bring the self-conscious girl out of her shell by pairing her up with some self-centred brat, who would most likely make her do all the work anyway.'
That smile.
He pointed behind her at a doodling, hunched figure "Why don't you try working with Mr Rogers? Ms Helen told me how well you two collaborated last year." Their previous history teacher.
Nat stiffened a tremble of complaint and cocked her eyebrows when Steve's head picked up, feeling as if someone were looking at him. As if reading the situation off an instruction manual, he smiled and motioned for her to sit with him.
Maybe working with food boy would have been better after all
Natasha and Steve ended up walking back to their houses together, neither discussing the day.
They just reached the beginning of their street when Steve muttered "You know he cared for you?"
Nat stopped in her tracks, frozen in fear of what he was going to reveal.
Steve continued "He told me, the night before the...um" he scratched at the nap of his neck, struggling to form a sentence.
Natasha bit her lip "Can we, can we not talk about this?"
Steve nudged his head as if to say, yes, but then his lips changed their mind. "I'm guessing you haven't been doing a lot of that?"
She played dumb "A lot of what?"
"Thinking of him."
Nat continued walking, a faster pace and need to get behind a closed door pumping her heart as her veins filled with a sickening kind of adrenaline.
"Actually, yes I have. All I've done is think of him."
Steve was straining to keep pace with her "Did you feel the same..."
Anger burst through a punctured vein "I said can we not talk about it!" She spun on her heel, her anger peeling like a dead layer of skeletal skin off her grave face.
"Talk about it or him?" The light-hearted, friendly vibe had been extinguished from his tone, which was now as hard as steel.
"What's the difference?" She spat harshly, now round the corner from her drive.
"The difference is that one is a person and the other was an accident, Natty." The word slipping from his mouth as easily as a greeting, though he hadn't ushered the word since they were children; younger, filled with more promise and innocence.
"DO not call me that!" She snarled, flinching from the own venom burning against her tongue, it dripping from her lips, leaking like the gas she so easily breathed in and out.
She turned her back to him, fishing her house key from the blue mushroom by her feet.
"Look don't worry about the assignment, I'll do it and you can take the credit yeah?" She didn't wait for a response, and if she'd gotten one the slamming of a door had concealed it from her ears.
She was pressed against the door, thinking if she made the tiniest of movements his shadow outside would collapse her cover.
How did she know he was still out there you might ask?
She could feel it, feel his eyes burning a whole through the glass material into the back of her neck, feel him huffing out a breathless sigh as the weight of her harsh maturity boor down onto his sturdy shoulders.
Sensing his moving silhouette Nat found strength in her legs and moved to the kitchen, spotting a note decorated in her mothers recognisable writing:
Gone next door, come round when you're ready, early tea xx
Natasha's eyes rolled back into her head as the deepest of aggressions was poured out into the smallest of groans.
An hour later, after washing and dancing around homework and study, she redressed in a pair of navy blue casual shorts and a white long sleeved T-shirt, Nat grabbed her history and English books and knocked lightly on the Rogers door.
It was soon answered by a gushing Sarah, who pulled Natasha into the strongest of hugs. Nat found herself guilty of returning the gesture and then waving to her mum before motioning to her books and Steve's room upstairs.
Quietly she crept up the comforting creaky staircase, her feet finding all the familiar quiet patches in the worn floorboards. She turned to his pristine white door and knocked three times, only three.
There was a slight pause before he answered, wearing his practice clothes.
Natasha shrugged warmly, feeling awkward on some many levels when Steve stood surprised by her appearance.
"Umm, we're having tea here, so I thought we could do...er, homework?" She coughed, rubbing her eyebrow, and standing to the left, turning as if to go.
"Sorry, stupid idea." With the distance Natasha put between their encounters you wouldn't have thought they'd been friends since childhood.
Steve frowned "No, no. I told the boys I'd be down the park for a private practice, but umm...I can cancel." He opened the door wider and moved so she could step in.
Nat visibly gaped upon walking into the room, causing Rogers to chuckle.
"A bit different from what you remember?" Spying the only memorable thing in the room, a photo: of her, Steve and James, brought her stiff demeanour back.
"Just a bit. You really don't have to cancel, I can...wait here?" She pondered, Steve nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I'll...er...be back in an hour. You can get started or, read, TV whatever." Natasha bit her lip, nodding strongly and only after he'd retreated down the hallway did she stop shaking her head.