Romanov finally decided to get it over with and opened his eyes. The room around him was still dark, and in the dim light he could see that the clock by his bed read "Six twenty-seven."
He could feel Natasha behind him, and at some point in the night she had put an arm around his waist.
Moving carefully Romanov dislodged her arm without waking her up and slipped out of bed. He then proceeded to take a quick shower and freshen up, probably the last time that he would be able to do so for the next month.
After that Romanov went into the kitchen and was going to put something together for him and Natasha to eat for breakfast, and was surprised to see a package on the table.
It was a non-descript cardboard box with a note attached to it. The note read, "Brother, I forgot to give this to you. One is for you and one is for Natasha, as I heard that there's been a man asking about me and my job. He's a dangerous man and she should carry hers with her at all times. Oh, and yours is the bigger one like you've always maintained. (Right here a small smiley face was drawn) Dmitri."
Inside the box were two pistols, both revolvers. Both had holsters. One was small and silver and the other one had a six inch long barrel and was fairly hefty. As Romanov took the holster that it was in out he could see that it was ment to go across his chest.
It felt very natural there.
Romanov moved the pistols to the counter, though, and continued to make breakfast.
As he was making it he heard Natasha get in the shower, and ten minutes later she was out again and they were eating together.
As they ate Romanov felt seperated from her. Indeed, the silence was thick and awkward.
Natasha was the one who broke it, though, when she said, "Look. I don't want you to go, you know that, right? Of course you do. But, if you think that you'll be fine and think that this is in our best interests then fine! Go and do whatever it is you're going to do with your brother! If you die, though, I will kill myself so that I can find you in the pergatory, or hell, or heaven, or wherever it is that we go to after death just so I can kill you myself! Do you hear me? You're coming back alive, there are no other options!"
Romanov couldn't help but thinking this silly since there were plenty of other not so desireable outcomes, but he didn't say anything and just nodded his head.
"Now, let's go, you're walking me to work before you go."
Romanov nodded again and finished the last bites of the eggs that he had made and stood up.
"Ok, let me get ready to go," he told her, pausing to grab the revolvers on his way to the bedroom.
Romanov emerged from the bedroom wearing a ratty brown t-shirt and jeans, his customary wear for no-work days. On top of the t-shirt he was wearing a light, old leather jacket that had seen its fair share of days.
The larger of the two revolvers was in a shoulder holster underneath the jacket, not too obvious. The extra shells were stuffed in Romanov's left pocket.
Romanov was about to put the other revolver into his other pocket when Natasha walked in, arms crossed.
Before she could say anything, however, Romanov handed it to her and said, "This is yours in case that creep comes around again."
Apparently this surprise tactic worked because Natasha cautiously took it from Romanov's outstretched hand.
"Don't worry, it's not loaded," Romanov told her while handing her twelve shells. "Keep these nearby, alright? If he tries anything funny or tries to do anything to you just shoot him, I guess. Alright?"
"Yea, alright," she said as she stowed the snubnose into her purse. "Now, let's go!"
"Alright," Romanov said as he took her hand in his.
The walk to the store where Natasha worked was uneventful, the streets were quiet at this time of the morning. Neither Romanov or Natasha said anything, they were just silently enjoying being near eachother - possibly the last time it would ever happen.
Their parting was just as quiet, neither of them saying anything. The only thing that was passed between the two of them was a last look into eachother's eyes and a long, protracted hug.
As Romanov walked away with heavy foot-steps an old woman who was a regular at this early hour came up to Natasha and asked her in her shaky old woman voice, "Why the long goodbye, dear? It's not like he'll be going anywhere! You can see him tonight, can't you?"
Natasha didn't have a reply for the woman as she opened the front door of the shop.
A single tear ran down her cheek in the darkness of early morning.
Romanov didn't have anywhere else to go, so he decided to pay his brother a visit early.
It took him an hour to walk there, but after that hour Romanov found himself at the front gate of a pre-coldwar factory that was looking dingy in the early morning sun.
There were boarded up and broken windows on many of the buildings, and in fact, only one building looked like it had been maintained regularly, and that was a relatively small garage in the back corner of the small complex.
Romanov was waved in by a lone man standing watch at the gate, and as he trudged by Romanov could see his picture taped to the wall.
As he entered the inside of the garage by ducking under a partially opened garage door Romanov was greeted by an altogether dissapointing site.
He had been expecting a high-tech laboratory or something of that nature, not what looked like it could be the workshop of any old mechanic.
This was offset, though, by an impressive-looking bodysuit that was mounted on the wall near the tools.
On the opposite end of the garage, however, was a positively monstrous military truck that barely fit in the garage. Six men were busily working to load supplies onto the back. Romanov could see plenty of fifty-five gallon drums, crates both big and small, and weapons in their distinctive wooden crates.
One of the men, upon seeing Romanov, finished moving the drum that he had been working on moving and then half walked and half ran over to Romanov.
It was Dmitri.
"Brother, I had expected that you would get here early! Help us load the truck and we can leave tonight, if possible, yes? Now, come!"