Disclaimer: I do not own Iron Man 2, Thor, the Black Widow Strikes comics, or the Avengers, along with the characters, the quotes, and everything else associated with Marvel.
A/N: If any confusion in this chap, refer to chapter 16.
Apologizing for any spelling/grammar mistakes beforehand.
Hope you all like, review/favorite if you want!
Song Inspirations
"Snap Out Of It" - Arctic Monkeys.
Chapter 22
"I figured." Sofia resumed cutting. "Talk."
"Your employer. I want their motive with the shipment."
"Chase the cargo down and find out for yourself," Sofia retorted.
A characteristic Vasilieva response. Natasha expected no less. Plus, they were no longer working together and only a fool would expect Sofia to answer. She decided to let it go and ask something Sofia would more easily comply to. "How's your sister?"
"Why? You saw her?"
"In California. You didn't come for her?"
The hand on Natasha's hair lifted. The sound of Sofia's scissors against the enamel sink rang hard and flat. "We separated two years ago."
"But the Extension program-"
"Val dropped out. I'm still in. Just scoring some sideways cash when I'm free, like now."
Natasha's stomach jolted. Embarrassment didn't do the thoughts speeding through her mind justice and she didn't want to question Sofia any further. What if she uprooted more unconscious lies? What would be left for her to believe in?
Sofia smirked. "You did turn dull." She ran the scissors under the faucet to wash off the fine sprinkle of hair. "So, what did V'leria say? Did she mention your Collar?"
"They never removed it." Natasha's throat hitched at her own verbal confirmation. The damn Collar. Implanted as a microchip against a carotid artery under the slope of her jaw, it allowed the Red Room to track her whereabouts without the risk of her removing it, due to its impossible location. The day she graduated from the academy they had told her they'd extract it. Ran her through surgery to boost. They certainly took great precautions to hide it from her.
Sofia ruffled Natasha's hair like she hadn't just told her that the Red Room had literally lurked beneath her skin while she tried to distance them all this time. "There. That's nice," Sofia said. "Coffee's getting cold. Drink up, we gotta leave this place."
"We? I'm not done with my questions yet." That was a lie. Natasha wanted nothing more than silence to think, yet she changed into her S.H.I.E.L.D uniform and followed Sofia out of the bathroom. As much as she wanted no more of her perceptions torn, Sofia held valuable information that she would benefit from exploiting than ignoring.
Sofia looked at her watch, said "ten minutes," and poured the coffee into two cups.
"You're valuable to them, even now," she sidled out, sloshing her cup and watching Natasha.
Natasha sipped her coffee and didn't respond.
"Your surgery... they did remove the Collar, but installed a new one in its place," Sofia continued. "They invented a new design that monitored body trends at the time you had your old one removed. And here you are today, an ongoing science project and without a single clue. You and some twenty others they were graduating."
Did they think Natasha'd return to them like a homing pigeon? They could fuck off.
"Remember the IV drips the Room allotted every five years? The ones that numbed about half your brain cells?"
Natasha nodded. Of course she remembered. The solution halted undesired hormone production and left the users level-headed; devoid of doubt, fear, anything that could hinder their maximum functionality. With a chill, all her outbursts, her questionings to Coulson, her sudden skepticism towards issues that had no impact on her whether their final outcome made sense. Missions were the only times she had possessed the clear, flexible mind vital for her work. The remainder of her life she wandered in a constant half-consciousness; a vague mist shrouding her understanding of occurrences that happened right under her nose, dissipating slowly over the years as the shot wore off, and jolted clean out of her system when the reappearance of Ivan Vanko overrode its ebbing effects. Where there was before a void of unquestioned acceptance, a need to cover every corner of unknown variables now scuffled inside her.
"They sent you and those other girls out without a new dose to see how your bodies would revert once it started to wear off. It helps to weed out defects and improve the future solutions. Your case caught attention when you defected to the United States. You're more connected to the Room than you think, Natalia."
"How do I know if it's the truth you're telling me?" Natasha asked, even though there was honesty in Sofia's voice. "Where did you get this information?"
"Think of Extension as a VIP club, or like the levels of hierarchy S.H.I.E.L.D uses." Sofia chuckled to herself and added, "Although the favor's against you there, anyway. One way or the other, when the academy decides to end your vagabond life, you come back or you die."
"Uh-huh."
"I'm not talking about dragging you away in chains." Sofia quieted. "Collars identify and restrain. What else do they do? They choke. Your Collar can release drugs that trick your immune system into attacking itself, your brain and spinal cord to be exact. It triggers an extreme, accelerated autoimmune condition that will kill you in less than a day and from what I know, they haven't discovered a cure."
Wonderful. Natasha swallowed hard. She repressed the quiver in her breaths and looked out the window, at the stir of traffic and trembling street lights.
The door creaked. Natasha turned. It was one of Fjodorov's guards. She tensed, her legs ready to propel herself off her chair. The guard ignored her, lumbered to Sofia, and told her with a crisp nod, "It's best we leave. They've traced us here."
Sofia grinned. "We gotta go now, 'Talia." She stood and took the half-empty cups to the sink. "We'll speak later. I have things to talk to you about, too."
"Why should I go with you?" Natasha glared at the other two people in the room. "As far as I'm concerned, we're rivals. Be thankful that I haven't killed the both of you yet."
"You wouldn't want to kill me. I know the whereabouts of the StarkTech."
"I don't care." This mission was damned already, even Coulson had demanded her return. Any time Natasha spent here, it was on her own accord, and she didn't plan on including Sofia any more than she needed to.
"S.H.I.E.L.D would care," Sofia countered. "They'll grill you for not going after it when they find out what's in the shipment."
"Leave, Sofia." Retreating now, no matter who came with her, was a wiser decision than to stay put while the cops were on her trail. Standing still was the worst thing she could do, but she risked it, determined to go against everything Sofia said. Conscience screeched at her to temper her pride, but its screams distanced in Sofia's presence.
"It's a bomb. You happy now? Fjodorov carried parts of an imitation Jericho bomb from when Tony Stark produced weapons. Now if you want its location, you stop your stubbornness and come with me. Otherwise you can abort this and get whipped when you go back to S.H.I.E.L.D."
Coulson rattled his fingers against the table as he waited for the faintest trace of Natasha's existence to surface on his computer. "Not a thing..." he murmured.
"Will you stop that noise?" Clint asked from behind.
The rattling ceased, then resumed after a ten second interval, followed by a "The camera footage I can bring up is dark enough, it's no help she's a goddamn chameleon. It'd be best if I can use the specialty monitors for this exact purpose."
"What happened to keeping her disappearance low?"
"Someone's bound to find out sooner or later," Coulson said.
"They'll find out, but they won't find her."
Coulson turned to face Clint. "You know, judging from past incidents, you should be the one fretting in an emergency like this."
"It's not an emergency."
"She's gone off the grid. For her, for this, that's dangerous. You and I both know it."
"Do you expect her to give up that easily? What do you suggest we do? Play hide and seek with her?"
"We warn her before S.H.I.E.L.D marks her as a rogue. You do realize the severity of her disappearance for this particular mission?"
"I screwed mine up pretty hard, and I scored a partner."
Coulson's stern look contorted into a scowl. "I can't believe what you're saying."
Clint couldn't believe it himself when he laid in bed that night, eyes unfocused, and listened to the dead silence around him. With Natasha next door he would often hear signs of her existence through the wall deep into midnight. Intentional drags of a chair across the tile floor, the closing of drawers, even the tapping of computer keys if he concentrated. She would admit her sleeplessness without words. Once, when Clint knocked on the wall that divided their rooms, she didn't respond, yet the clangor would continue, as insistent for his attention as before.
What the hell was she doing now?
It wasn't only mortal harm that threatened Natasha now. Say she did reconnect with Coulson and abandon this assignment, she would still face the consequences upon return. What with this being the mission that could revoke S.H.I.E.L.D's monitoring on her, he knew exactly what would happen to her from personal experience. Although he had joked that infringing protocol gained him a partner, the Council wouldn't buckle another time.
Clint whisked the blankets off his body and bolted to find Coulson.
A progression of running, cars, motorcycles, and a chopper brought Natasha and Sofia to the coastal city of Sochi. The entire travel, Natasha had kept an eye out for any tricks that Sofia might try. No doubt Sofia had dirty reasons for offering the StarkTech's trail. With the turn of events that she had already constructed, it wouldn't surprise Natasha if Sofia did indeed lay out another trap for her.
Pride was a funny thing. It had influenced Natasha to reject Sofia's offer to get her out of Moscow in speed, but when on the run with her, the same pride chained Natasha to her temporary allies so that she stayed, even though she could have left any time and cut off all connections to Sofia. But that would be an act of cowardice. To show such a trait, especially in front of her current company, was not an option.
Fjorodov's—or rather—Sofia's guard, flew the chopper away after dropping them off at dawn. The two now walked along the coast of the unfinished Olympic park, among tourists and beach-goers clueless of their identities. Sofia had been quiet the entire time. In fact, she hadn't spoken much since leaving Moscow. She seemed to have forgot to tell Natasha about the missing StarkTech, as well as the other private business she wanted discussed, although forgetfulness wasn't for spies. Natasha could wait. She had enough crammed in her head to occupy herself. Her Collar, as Sofia had confirmed, was not only retained in her body, but upgraded to rob even more of her privacy to the extent that it tallied every aspect of her body from her pulse to hormonal regulations. How did the Room react to the sudden change of statistics they must have saw when she received the shot from Project Recovery?
"So, I've told you what you wanted to know. Now it's my turn." Sofia spoke up.
Fair enough, given that the information she told Natasha was probably prohibited. Natasha would have preferred to squeeze the location of the missing cargo out of Sofia first, but gain came after loss. Bargaining stood as her best chance.
"How's S.H.I.E.L.D working out for you?"
"Really? You get me a thousand miles south of Moscow to ask how I'm doing?"
"Why ask you anything else?I can hack into S.H.I.E.L.D's database and know more than you ever will in minutes. Check your restrictions, agent Romanoff."
Natasha had no response.
"C'mon, answer my question." Sofia urged.
"It's passable."
"But you can do with better."
"Depends on your definition of 'better.'"
"You can do with better no matter what definition I use."
"And I'm not reverting to the KGB no matter what definition you want me to believe."
"I'm not here to make you, Natalia, I just want you to consider it. It's only a matter of time."
"I'm not an easy target."
"Easy enough for S.H.I.E.L.D."
"That was my own free will."
"You had an arrow aimed at your heart," Sofia rebutted. "And by the way, what's your stand with that circus boy? I assume he got his end of the deal for your life?" Her lips curved in a suggestive grin.
Natasha shivered at Sofia's reference to Clint's past. Everyone she had known since affiliating with him had stayed within the boundaries of bird or archer related names, and none had dared, or had known at all that deep into his history to uproot anything pass his Hawkeye occupation. How much more did Sofia know? Natasha would rather expose herself instead of him.
"S.H.I.E.L.D has my loyalty," Natasha responded, diverting the attention from Clint as much as she could.
"What happened?" Sofia scorned. "Knowing you, you would've forsaken them at the first opportunity. The American government, of all things, Nell."
"Don't call me that."
"Why? I've always called you Nellie."
"Don't." Natasha stopped in the middle of the path. Her sudden snap caused a few eyes to turn.
Sofia shrugged and guided them to the nearest turn that curved inland towards the Olympic hockey rink. Stairs wrapped around its walls. Sofia lead the way without missing a beat, up the stairs, and opened a door into the top spectators' isles. They were the only ones inside.
The rink was a bluish white sheet at the bottom of the arena. Rows of red chairs lined the sides. Sofia walked down the stairs like strolling around unfinished Olympic stadiums made up half her life.
"I don't know what they've brainwashed you into, Natalia, but that agency you work for is constricting you. It's clear they'll have no trouble throwing you into the enemy list."
Constricting her from what? Blind murder with her nose trained on the reward cash? Unnecessary killings for the sake of excitement? S.H.I.E.L.D has every reason to eliminate her.
"The Room will call you back sooner or later. You don't have to make this difficult."
The first thing Natasha would when she got out of here would be to remove the Collar by any means possible. See how they'd "call her back" then.
"God forbid, don't tell me it's 'cause of Clint Barton."
Natasha tensed.
Sofia caught the slight slip in her steps and snickered. Pure ice. "I can't believe this."
"I owe him my life."
"Uh huh. And you are so filled with honor and valor."
"Acknowledging an outdated version of me doesn't make you right, Sofia."
"And how splendid are the new you? You took the Red Room's standards to heart more than most. You know better than anyone else that distractions like him have no place with you. Circus clowns are for children, Natalia. And we are not children."
"I'm not part of your 'we.'"
"So you do admit it."
"It's not what you think."
"You like him enough."
Enough to what? Enough to know something beyond the preset emotional tone ad physical worth she had assumed unto herself? Enough to let go and sink into the still-surreal embrace of trust that Sofia would never feel? Or enough to shatter her if something was to happen to that trust? If that was Sofia's intention for saying what she said, then she'd struck false. Clint mattered, yes. But he occupied only a fraction of her life. She stayed with him for herself but she didn't stay with S.H.I.E.L.D for him.
Despite what she told herself, Natasha couldn't bring herself to answer Sofia. Her tongue stiffened, and even the most futile of lies left her.
Sofia pushed aside the rink's fencing and walked onto the ice. Natasha followed with a flickering gaze over her surroundings. The slippery surface beneath her shoes unbalanced her at first contact, but she pushed on. If she failed to oppose Sofia with words, then her actions must hold twice the impression. And her impression on Sofia at the moment was in shreds.
"I really shouldn't bother to ask, seeing how you've turned, but I've came this far and it's not going to waste." Sofia stood in front of Natasha with crossed arms. "I suggest you ditch S.H.I.E.L.D now. It's better sooner than later."
"You really shouldn't have bothered."
"Then I guess this is it."
Sofia whisked around and away. It made no sense for her to let the matter go so easily, even more suspicious with her manner of exit. Was her promise regarding the StarkTech a scam? Natasha studied Sofia's retreating figure and watched her reach into her coat pocket.
Expecting an attack of gunfire, Natasha ducked and whipped out her gun. But instead of bullets an explosion ripped into her ears The ice beneath her gave. She plummeted. The freezing water under the layer of ice robbed the heat from her body and chased her through the stages of shock, pain, and a numb, gruesome frigidity in seconds. Her soaked clothes tried to tug her under. She scrambled to etch an anchor on the intact ice a few feet away with her fingernails.
In the background of her thrashing Sofia said, "There's an envelope under the front row seats to the left. Have fun."
Thanks for reading!