For three days, it was nothing but the honeymoon stage for the two women.
Maria still napped during the day when she was tired but on occasional Natasha joined her on the couch, unable to say no to an afternoon sleep. Silently, the assassin had spent her nights watching Maria sleep, watching the peace settle on her face. When she was asleep and was settled next to Natasha, there was no way for her demons to get to her. Natasha kind of liked that she had the ability to do that for Maria.
Usually, the redhead thought of herself to be realistic in nature and that she was an extremely good judge of character. She found it odd thought that someone, no matter how open minded they might be to the gruesome and hidden workings of the world, might honestly and openly want her even with her history.
But when Maria began to toss and turn lightly next to her under the beginning of a nightmare, Natasha found that she had to share a piece of her past that she would rather forget about permanently.
"Maria, wake up," Natasha said loudly enough for the brunette to hear her.
With a small gentle shake, she sat bolt upright to take in her surroundings. Her bottom lip was between her teeth in an effort to control herself, to keep her in the moment the same way a pinch works when you think you're dreaming.
With soft eyes, Natasha asked if she was okay. Her eyes were slightly glassy as she calmed herself down and gave an answering nod.
"You're beautiful when you wake up," the redhead muttered. Maria's hair was quite dishevelled but somehow it suited her just as much, if not more than the professional bun she usually wore at work.
"You're full of it," Maria chuckled, letting herself slip into Natasha's arms. One came to rest across her back and over her ribs while the other simply laced together with Maria's.
A kiss was pressed to her hairline, and she almost moaned in comfort. "Do you want to tell me about it? The dream?"
"Will you tell me about one of your scars?" Maria asked, looking up from her resting spot in the crook of Natasha's neck.
There was a seat of silence that joined them as Natasha searched the brown eyes out of curiosity, wondering what she was looking for or what she wanted to hear. Deeply and softly, she pressed her lips to Maria's. "Will it help?"
"Maybe," she answered. Natasha knew that even if she did share a part of her past with the woman in front of her there was no guarantee that she would be able to tell her anything about what happened in that cave for thirty-two days.
"Okay," Natasha agreed. But she couldn't tell a story like this and be within such close proximity to Maria, so she had to disentangle herself from the other woman to sit cross-legged next to her instead. She rubbed the palms of her hands with her thumbs strongly as she tried to figure out where to begin, resulting in several false starts before she could properly form a sentence.
"In my SHIELD Personnel File, under 'identifying marks' it's noted that I don't have any fingerprints." Maria nodded, having read that file several times before and watched as Natasha raised her hands to show the missing fingerprints. "In order to be a Black Widow, you have to be able to become invisible. I have no idea how old I was when it happened; we were ranked by ability not age. I'd been under Red Room's instruction for a quite a few years when they decided it was time I had to learn how to become invisible. So they removed my fingerprints.
"I had to sit there in silence for days as they took away one of the easiest ways to identify who I was. If I so much as blinked or flinched they would make sure it hurt more than it did. It was almost like I had Stockholm Syndrome. I didn't know any better, I couldn't remember anything from before I was taken. Being in that position, I wanted nothing more than to please them so I did everything I could to stop myself from moving an inch." She could see Maria staring at her. "Like I said, I have scars too."
Maria was sullenly silent as she watched Natasha. She reached forward for the fidgeting hands in front of her to inspect them before pressing a kiss to each one. Natasha smiled sadly and when it looked like Maria was about to ask how they did it, she answered before she could get a word out.
"To this day, I hate the sound of a blow torch." Maria shivered unwillingly and couldn't stop the sharp inhale of breath. "What is it?"
"I hate that sound too," she whispered. "My dream was a reply of what happened in the cave."
"Tell me?"
"I could never tell when the pain was going to start," she said. "I was sitting backwards on a chair, tied to it and without a shirt. I couldn't see anything but I could hear them asking questions behind me. 'Tell me about SHIELD protocol', 'Tell me about SHIELDS weapon systems', all that kind of stuff. But I wouldn't tell them anything.
"I heard the blow torch start up, and even though I can be a hardarse in front of all the junior agents or on the Helicarrier or even when I have to deal with politicians, it scared the absolute crap out of me. I was terrified," she whispered. Natasha could see the tears beginning to well up as her voice started to break. "I couldn't do anything other than wait, wait for them to start. And that was the worst part. Waiting. When I wouldn't tell them anything, they would burn me. And all I could do was wait for it. It was almost like I could feel my skin melting. Even in my dreams I can still feel it.
"It happened every few days; let the burns start healing or infection to settle in before they started again."
"The scars on your back?"
"Yeah. I was terrified, Tasha," she mumbled through tears. Natasha realised that this wasn't just her dream that she was talking about, because they can manifest in any number of ways after trauma. This was the trauma that she went through.
"Come here, you're okay," Natasha said, pulling Maria into her lap. "You're okay. You're healing. It's not an overnight job or an easy journey, but you are healing. And I'm here. I'm sorry that happened to you. Thanks you for telling me. You're brave. So so brave."
"How am I brave?"
"You survived," Natasha whispered, kissing Maria again softly. "You're beautiful and brave and strong and courageous and a hard worker. You're amazing, Maria."
She kissed Maria again, who willingly kissed her back. "You think so?"
They sat together and made themselves comfortable for morning spent in bed: it was still quite early. "I know so."