She sits on the couch runs one hand over it, the other resting limply in her lap. She mentally prepares for the next hour, because she cannot afford to cry. She is a tribute, and the other tributes will be watching for weakness. The will certainly be cameras at the train station she will be escorted to later, so puffy eyes and a red nose are not an option. The door opens suddenly, and Natasha startles and stands.
Grant, Jemma, and Leo stand in the doorway, two Peacekeepers closing the door behind them. Leo and Jemma rush to her, pushing he back on the couch when the collide with her. The both wrap their arms around her, and Natasha hugs them tightly to her. Grant stands back as the three settle on the couch, but she grabs his hand and pulls him to sit next to Leo. Natasha starts her list of what and what not to do.
Grant, you are coming along at hunting and may be able to pass it along to Leo, and Jemma if she wishes - but Natasha knew that even Leo was a long shot - and Jemma, you can identify all the edible plants in the woods, and I've brought you along the best strawberry patches, so you won't starve in the summer. None of you are to take out tesserae, unless, Grant, you get permission from Melinda.
She continues on, encouraging Grant on his hunting and his determination and Jemma and Leo on their studies, as they are even more advanced than her in school. As she finishes, she places a kiss on each of their foreheads.
"Take care of each other."
Jemma turns in her lap and grabs her face gently but firmly, a gesture that reminds Natasha of when Jemma was very little and was saying the most important thing and Natasha had to listen very carefully because 'Tasha this is so important.
"We'll be alright, Natasha," the younger girl said softly, her eyes wavering only slightly from the other girl's gaze. "But - but you have to take care too! You're so brave! You're strong and fast and you can hunt! You can win!"
"Maybe." Natasha bit her lip. She can't lie to her, but she will not go down without a fight, that's for sure. "Then we'd be as rich as Coulson."
"I don't care if we're rich!" Leo spoke up, settle right beside Jemma with an equally intense look. "We just need you to come home."
"You will try won't you?" Jemma asked.
"Really, really try?"
"Really, really try. I promise." Natasha hugged them both tight. She will really, really try. For Grant, for Leo, and for her Jemma.
The peacekeepers open the door, time's up, but Natasha can't just let them go. She presses kiss to their heads, saying "I love you" as many times as she can, then letting the two go. Grant tries to follow behind, but Natasha grabs him in a tight, ferocious hug. "I love you, мой солдат." The peacekeepers grab his arm just as he whispers "I love you, too" back and Natasha pretends not to notice his watery eyes.
The door closes, and Natasha's left alone.
She feels numb, and sits back on the couch. I will never see them again. She fights back the next waves of tears, staring a hole in the ceiling. The door opens again, but she doesn't look. The soft, yet deliberate loud footsteps, though, are a dead giveaway. The cushion sinks a bit, and a hand rubs a circle in between Natasha's shoulder blades.
She turns her head, and there's that same damn look. "Natasha, darling, I've got something to tell you." The memory hits her like a truck, and a sob escapes her throat. May pulls the girl into her arms.
Melinda remembers when Natasha was small - rather, smaller. The big bright green eyes that saw the world as a wonderful, beautiful mystery. And now she was here, with her god-daughter, in this godforsaken room, and she was just supposed to hand her over to those monsters in the Capitol? Her god-daughter's death would be nothing more than entertainment. Melinda clenches her jaw. "Natasha, darling. You can do this. I know you can. You've got Clint, that stupid kid, and I couldn't be more grateful. You two can keep each other alive, just like you have these past year."
Natasha sniffed. "But what if we do too well? What if it's just us at the end?"
"You'll find a way." May lifted the girl chin with one and wiped away a tear with the other. Hopefully, the redness would fade before long.
Natasha nodded. "I told them not to take any tesserae. Only Grant, if it's absolutely necessary."
"Couldn't have said it better myself. Don't worry about us. Worry about yourself. Even when those other tributes are three times your size, don't give up before it begins. And don't go down without a fight."
"If I go, I'm taking someone down with me," Natasha replies.
May gives a wisp of a smile. "That's my girl." She stand and places a kiss on Natasha's forehead. "Here, take this," she says as she presses something cool and metallic into Natasha's hand. "It was your mother's." It's a bracelet, thin and silver, with a small stone set in. The stone is dark, with flecks of silver and red. It's beautiful. "I was supposed to give it to you on your birthday, but -"
"Thank you."
"Of course. I'll see you when you get back." Before Natasha can interject, May is opening the door and giving her one last Melinda May smile - which was actually a grand gesture for her - and heading out into the hall.
There is a few minutes when she's alone, and she walks over to a small but ornate mirror hanging on the wall. She composes herself, and decides that she doesn't look too weak. The door opens again, and this time it's Barney who steps in.
"Hey, kiddo," he says as he plops down on the couch oh so casually, his hands clasped behind his head and his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. It's stunning really, how much he looks like an older, more weary Clint. Clint though, isn't as grown or as wary to the world, instead his fire burns all the more when he's pushed down.
"Hi." Natasha sits next to the older Barton brother.
"Look. I know what you're thinking. One or both of you is going to die. There will be no victory." He suddenly leans forward, leaning his elbows on his knees and grabbing Natasha by her shoulders. He levels his gaze to look into Natasha's shocked, green eyes. "But I believe in my brother. Always have. And what's more, I believe in you. I have always believed in you, every since Clint brought you home and declared you his friend."
"Barney, I can't do this. Clint may be able to, but there's no winning this," Natasha argues, shrugging his hands of her shoulders and standing.
He stands as well, towering over her. His face softens. "Stay safe, and don't let him do anything too stupid. "You know, I've always loved your hair. The bright red, it reminds me of a fire." He hugs her, and leans down to whisper softly in her ear. "So burn them." He straightens up, leaving Natasha even more confused as he gives her a bright smile. He leaves, shutting the door behind him, and it doesn't even occur to Natasha to mourn the losing of yet another important person in her life.
The Peacekeepers then lead her out of the room, the building, and usher her into a car, which arrives at the train station in no time. She spots Clint, and sees that his eyes are a big red, but he seems to keep his composure. So, he's not going the weakling route, but I guess I never expected him to. Clint was more direct, though a few years back, a boy from District 7 won the Games with that strategy. Bruce Banner was his name, and he cried when he was reaped, and during the interview, and he was still sniveling when the Games started. The other big tributes when after the threats and, if Natasha recalls correctly, then turned on each other after several allies betrayed the others. Banner made it to the final six without any looking, and proceeded to efficiently and cold-heartedly - yet mercifully - slay four of them in their sleep.
Banner won, but in the Victor's interview, he had this cold look in his eyes, and he was no where near sniveling then. He was almost unstable... but not enough to attract so much attention to the fact.
Natasha and Clint stand in the doorway of the train, camera's trained on them, a bit awkwardly for over three minutes before the door is finally closed. Natasha lets out a sigh of relief, and before she knows it she swept up in a bone-crushing hug from Clint. Even with her feet of the ground, she can feel the train begin to move. The speed takes her breath away, or maybe it's the hug.
"Clint! Can't breathe!"
"Oh, sorry!" He drops her at once, and as she holds her ribs and catches her breath, she can clearly see the crooked grin on his face. It only more satisfying for her to smack it off.
"What the hell are you doing?" Clint sobers up immediately.
"Saving Leo. Did you really want him here?"
"No. I don't. But Leo can't hunt, can't provide -"
"Would you rather him here then me?"
"No, but-"
Clint grabs her shoulders, and for a second, he looks much too like Barney. "Hey. I'm here now. Let's just count our blessings, alright?"
Natasha pulls away, but nods in agreement. When she looks back at the boy, he's enamored by the sight of the passing setting outside. "We're really going, aren't we?"
"It'll take less than a day to make it there," she notes, going to stand beside him. He nods, in a daze. Though they were mostly taught about their inescapable future of working in the mines, they did learn about the history of Hydra, and that the Capitol was somewhere in some mountains - or something. Natasha didn't bother pay attention, as she didn't see how it would be useful. They were also taught math, and some science, but both Leo and Jemma certainly had no future in the mines, and were more apt in those fields. Just thinking about them both makes her sad, and somewhat relieved that neither were here today.
It's at that time that Natasha notices a flash of gold on Clint's chest. "What's that?" she says, reaching toward it.
Clint chuckles. "A gift from Antoine. He couldn't see you, as you as so many visitors. He gave me the pin. Said it was fitting."
"It's a hawk," she notes.
"He said that I have the eyes of a hawk, so I 'might as well take this god awful pin,'" Clint said, smiling. Natasha shakes her head and smiles wryly.
"Hello, dears!" Natasha stifles a groan. Maria Hill looks them over, and to her credit she hides her disdain well. She puts her hands on one of their shoulders and leads them to their room. They're right next to each other, so Natasha doesn't feel to alone. Maria drops Clint of in his door, and takes Natasha into hers.
"Wear anything, do anything you want. It's all at your disposal." She leaves, and Natasha is grateful. As she wonders into the bathroom, she suddenly feels a lot better about her predicament because that shower looks delightful. She peels off her clothes, and takes her first shower. The poor citizens of the district never owned showers, and cold bathes were the only thing available. It doesn't take long for her to figure out how to work the button on the panel, but she does burn her hand in the process.
She pulls out piece after piece of clothing, finally settling on dark pine green shirt and black pants. She decides to go sans shoes, because the train is carpeted so why bother? Maria Hill comes to collect her for dinner, and the girl can't help but stare at the pretty woman, as she no longer was in flashy clothing or bright make-up. Her face was washed, her hair held into a loose bun, and her clothes were just plain and black. Natasha follows her through the posh corridors and leads her to a dining room with polished panel walls. Natasha sits next from Clint and across from their escort. The chair next to her is empty.
"Where is Coulson?" Maria asks brightly, though her voice is an octave lower than the Reaping. Natasha catches herself staring at the woman, and her hatred for her fades. It's a façade, similar to the one Natasha uses.
"Last time I saw him, he said he was going to take a nap," Clint says, shrugging.
"Well, it has been an exhausting day," Maria replies. Natasha thinks she's worried about the empty seat next to her, and as the dinner goes on - it's delicious, and it comes in courses! - she keeps glancing toward the doors connecting to the quarters.
Maria Hill clears her throat. "It's nice to see you two have manners. Last year, the pair ate everything with their hands. I don't think the girl knew what to use the fork for."
"They were probably from the Seam," Clint notes. Maria nods, and Natasha is yet again surprised. She was sure that she wouldn't know what the Seam was, or what the predicament was, but the understanding in the woman's eyes prove Natasha wrong.
Once the meals over, Natasha feels sick to her stomach. The food was a bit rich, but too delicious for her to stop. Clint has one hand over his mouth casually, but there's the slight panic in his eyes and Natasha can practically see his mind working as he tries to remember where the bathroom is.
Maria Hill leads the two to another compartment, and together they watch the recaps of the Reapings. A few of her fellow tributes stand out to Natasha. A boy from District 2, with a darkly charismatic smile. A sly looking girl from 5. She has pink in her hair. A tall boy with a prosthetic leg from 10. But the one that stands out the most is the girl called before those latter two. A twelve-year-old girl from 3. She has tan skin, and dark brown hair and eyes. She is very much like Jemma in size and demeanor, but there's something about her, and it reminds her of Grant. It's her fire, Natasha thinks.
Barney holds her close, whispers in her ear. Burn them.
The moment's lost though, as the screen switches to broadcast District 12. Clint groans as he watches Coulson plummet off the stage again.
"Once again, District 12 is the laughing stock of the Games!"
"Shush," Maria hisses, swatting at Clint's arm. Natasha looks at her with a raised eyebrow, though it's mostly because she doesn't want to see her own face as she is called and mounts the stage.
Then comes the heartwarming - or heartbreaking, depending - part of the broadcast, where Clint volunteers.
"Wow. Is that really what my hair looked like?" the boy jokes, bumping his shoulder into Natasha's.
"Clint, it looks like that everyday. It looks like that now," she replies, bumping into him harder, smirking.
Just then, none other that Phil Coulson stagger into the compartment. He's a bit more sober, but he's holding an icepack to his head. Maria Hill smirks at him as he sits next to her.
"That was one hell of a stage dive," she comments.
"Oh, was it?" She chuckles, patting him on the shoulder as she stand. "No, really, was it? I can't remember."
"Good night, Phil. As one of your new trainees to help you back to you compartment." She leaves, waving and saying goodnight back at them without looking.
The two teens turn their attention to their new mentor. Coulson looks them over, then narrows his eyes. "So... I miss dinner?"
A/N: So, I am back. So, yes, I know that was over two weeks, but I had an AP test, and then I went camping for the first time. Those are viable excuses, you have to admit. I was not hit on the head by a falling coconut and rendered unable to remember who I once was - well, actually, I was, but that was resolved before my self-inflicted deadline. Anyway... I just saw the newest X-Men movie and I am pumped. Okay, back to the Author's Note. Thank you guys for taking the time to read this, and I appreciate all of you who followed, favorited, and reviewed. Thanks a million, and goodnight.