Chapter 12...wait, what? When did this happen? Lawdy, I feel like I've been working on this story forever...at the same time I feel like I just started...but anyyyyyyyyway, here ya go, chapter 12, read, escape for a few minutes. Enjoy lovelies.

Hide the rage

Hide the pain

Kick some ass

Take some names

Try and forget

Try and erase

I dare you.

Natasha became restless within a few hours of staying in her sick-bay room. She woke up from her nap feeling fidgety, tried to get up from the bed, and was immediately pushed back down by the nurse that was adjusting the I.V. in Natasha's forearm.

"Strict orders from Director Fury, Agent Romanoff. You are to stay in bed and rest until

the Chief of Medicine is sure that you have completely healed."

She muttered darkly under her breath until the nurse left, flopped back dramatically, cracked open one of her books, and read for a few minutes before her mind began to wander. The blanks in her memory plagued her, she couldn't remember anything from the last few days, she remembered trying to fight against Razin's control over her, and that was all. Fury, Coulson, and Barton refused to tell her anything, telling her to give it up; but judging by the filthy looks she got from those who passed by her room, whatever she had done must have been terrible.

On the fifth consecutive day of laying in bed, flipping through channel on the low-quality T.V., and looking lazily through the books Barton had brought, when the Chief of Medicine, a large, short, blonde woman, marched into her room, peered at Natasha over her round glasses before speaking.

"Now you know what signs to look for, the ones that point to something that needs urgent medical care right? You'll be shit-sure tired for the next few days, I've asked Director Fury to move you to one of the suites on the top floor, you'll be more comfortable up there. Now, I suppose I can't keep you here much longer, heaven knows if you'd even stay here for me one more hour, so I'll have an intern take you up to your new room, Agent Romanoff."

Natasha nodded in response, waited impatiently for the nurse to unhook her from the heart monitor and I.V. The orderly pushed her slowly through the hallways, and up to her old room. Once inside, he carefully packed all of her worldly possessions into medium sized cardboard box. There was a small tinkling of glass as a bottle of perfume broke, and Natasha pulled the box into her lap, and breathed in deeply.

"It's only perfume" she paused to take another whiff, "citrus; grapes and Sicilian lemons." She sighed, "Eau D'hadrien. $1,500 for a single bottle. You're lucky that it wasn't one of the poisons. The Hazmat crew would have had trouble scraping what was left of you up from the floor if it had been."

The young orderly look at her, his eyes wide. He shook his head, and wheeled her gently to the nearest elevator. Once inside, he handed her a square, black, plastic card.

"That gives you access to the twenty-fifth floor, just place it under the scanner, and…" the elevator rumbled to life. They quickly zoomed skyward, and came to an silent stop on the twenty-fifth floor. It was no more than a very thin, very short, hallway, with two doors opposite each other.

"The same card will open up your room, the one on the left is yours, I think Agent Barton moved up here this morning, try and follow the doctor's orders, please."

Natasha nodded curtly, stood stiffly, and limped out of the elevator.

A large window covered most of the wall opposite the elevator, and the white marble flooring gave off a pristine, sterile, feel. She placed the card under the scanner in the door, and heard the door click open.

She was met with solid, authentic brick walls, an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling glass, and plush carpet. The entrance way led to a stainless-steel kitchen, around a sharp corner brought her to a fully furnished living room and the wall of glass, and finally to a door to which she assumed was her bedroom. The bed was large, with silky sheets, a black fluffy comforter, and soft downy pillows. A tall armoire sat in the corner, a TV mounted on the wall, it, a desk in the other corner with a standard S.H.I.E.L.D laptop, and closet stuffed with clothes. Uniforms, shirts, jeans; she ran a finger along a silk ballgown, close her eyes, and smiled. Oscar de la Renta.

It was until she looked in the mirror in the luxurious attached bathroom that she was brought back to reality. Her hair was matted, greasy, her eyes sunken into their sockets, blank and dull with pain, bruises and cuts were still visible on her pale, sickly-looking face. She turned away, set the cardboard box down onto the ground, shrugged out of her blue hospital scrubs, and stepped into the shower. The power jets in the shower washed away the month's worth of grime that had built up on her skin, and soon she stepped out of the warm comfort of the shower and out onto the cold, damp tiles. She pulled a towel off of the towel warmer on the wall, and wrapped herself in its soft embrace.

She dressed, emptied out the cardboard box, set her books on top of the armoire with her prized "perfume or poison?" set, and tossed her one change of clothes into the closet. She then stood in the middle of her new accommodations, exhausted, completely unsure of what to do next. It was then that Barton marched in through her door, which she had left open in her moment of awe.

"You good Romanoff?"

"Mhmm. Kinda tired, I don't really want to sleep yet though." She leaned her head against the couch and closed her eyes.

"Damn, your place is much better than mine, they didn't put as much effort into it." he said as he looked around.

"I've never stayed in anything as nice as this. Even the hotels I've stayed in during missions weren't quite as good as this."

"Really? Anyway, you probably should get some sleep, doctor's orders, right?"

Natasha nodded sleepily, limped towards her room, crawled on to the most comfortable mattress she had ever gotten to sleep on, pulled the covers over her shivering form, and gave into the darkness once more.

Tad bit of a shorter chapter today, lovelies, but still good. I have once more joined the 21st century, with actual spell check! Review and comment! And as always, I hope you're all well, and happy, and awesome.