Chapter 2

There were many emotions you experienced in that moment that made sense, all except one – betrayal. Natasha owed you nothing; she was a stranger, what you thought was an act of kindness was actually just her duty. Even so, you couldn't forget the warmth of her hand in yours and the tiny smile she had given you to calm your panic. That had been unnecessary, right? You needed to stop trying to see the good in every person you met. You decided that it too had been another part of her role.

You made your way back into the cell, collapsing onto the bed and drawing your knees up to your chest so that you were in a foetal position. Now that you were alone, there was only one thing you could do – think.

You thought about how only a few days before, you had been looking forward to celebrating your eighteenth birthday. Everything had changed so quickly; one moment had thrown the course of your life onto a completely different path. You thought about how it would never be the same again. You thought about your Mother. You tried everything in your willpower to stop thinking about Natasha.

You stared at the wall in front of you, dismissing her from your mind completely. You wondered if it would be one of the last things you saw, along with your bed and the ceiling above you. Your eyes stung with tears, your head spinning as it occurred to you that this could be your life for a very long time, surrounded by walls that you couldn't name with nothing to distract you. You tightened your body into a ball, tears running down your face. Your perception of time was warped by the repetitive nature of your surroundings and the absence of a clock – it could've been hours or minutes later, you couldn't tell, when the door swung open but you refused to look up. You didn't care who it was; you assumed it was just somebody delivering your next meal.

Footsteps approached your bed and you heard the clatter of the tray you had left beside you as it was placed on the floor. Still, you didn't budge but your heart was beating faster now, the mattress beneath you sinking under the weight of the person next to you.

"Isaroka?" Her voice was a whisper, yet it still held onto its deeper tone and rasp, causing your stomach to squeeze with nerves. You let out a sniff, rubbing your eyes that ached from soreness.

"Please leave me alone," you pleaded, feelings of betrayal building in your chest again. You felt her hand on your shoulder and you shuddered at the touch, the familiar warmth spreading through your body once again despite your anger. She pulled away and you looked up to see her hand lingering in the air, her expression calm and observant. Natasha reached into her pocket, producing a crinkled, white cloth and handed it to you. You eyed it with suspicion, clueless as to what it was.

"It's a tissue," she said, catching onto your confusion, "You use it to wipe your face." You figured it was for your tears. You placed the tissue on your tear-stained cheeks, the material becoming damp in a matter of seconds.

"Thank you," you said, shifting your gaze to the wall opposite you, "Please can you leave now." Natasha sighed.

"I'm sorry. I know I don't deserve it but please, give me a chance." Your jaw tightened. You had given her a chance in the other room and she had turned her back on you. You had begged her with your eyes and she had left.

"I have no reason to," you said. You pushed yourself up and sat upright, your gaze colliding with hers. You could've sworn you saw genuine concern there but you didn't trust your judgement.

"We're not here to hurt you," she said. Your expression darkened. They had no reason to trap you in a place that was alien to you if they intended no harm. You were a threat in their eyes and people didn't extend their humanity to dangerous people. As if she could read your mind, she continued, "I understand that it doesn't seem like it but it's true. We want to help you, honestly, but we can't unless you cooperate." Her words dripped with genericism; she was clearly a dedicated worker who was trying to bait you into following S.H.I.E.L.D.'s commands. You clenched your fists, turning to face her. You would not tolerate manipulation, it was a dirty tactic.

"Are you here to try and convince me to answer your questions?" you snapped. Natasha shook her head.

"No," she said, "No, not at all. I'm not even meant to be here." A beat. She wasn't? You loosened your fists slightly, a crease forming between your eyebrows.

"Why are you here then?" you questioned. Her expression didn't change but you noticed her fidget in her seat.

"Well, you have no reason to believe me but… I don't think you're dangerous at all. You're very young and this isn't somewhere you should be at your age." You looked at her closely, trying to decipher her intentions. You couldn't help but notice how her skin glowed in the dim light and the richness of her hair colour as you examined her features. It was so very red.

"You seem quite young too," you remarked.

"I'm nineteen," Natasha confirmed. She placed a hand on your shoulder and this time, you didn't pull away. "Listen, Isaroka. I trust you but Fury won't until you answer his questions."

"That is the impression I got," you said. You began to rethink her motives, the feelings of betrayal ebbing away from your body. She was trying to understand you but you couldn't figure out why.

"Why didn't you answer him?" You leaned your head against the wall behind you, twisting a strand of your hair between your fingers. There was no safe way of explaining that they were forbidden to know about your planet without sparking interest and a potential investigation. They would want all the details and you were unsure as to how much was needed to threaten the peace of the Universe. You had to tell her the truth without slipping too much information about what you were hiding.

"It's complicated," you said, "I genuinely would cooperate but I can't." She opened her mouth to speak before you interrupted, "Before you ask why, I also can't tell you. Giving you the information you want has the potential to create a very dangerous situation." She thought for a moment, slowly taking in your words.

"So there's no way you can answer Fury's questions?" she asked. You shook your head.

"I'm sorry." You both sat in silence for a few minutes, pondering over the new knowledge you had gained. You kept stealing glances at Natasha, making sure to keep a memory of her safe on your cyborg brain. You didn't know for what reason but you didn't want to take your eyes off of her. Natasha eventually cleared her throat, brushing herself down as she stood up.

"Well, I'll leave you be," she said, "Just like you asked me to." Without thinking, you reached up to grab her wrist, shaking your head. It was illogical and borderline reckless but you weren't in the right state to consider the implications.

"No, it's okay. I want you to stay." Your voice broke as you added, "I don't want to be alone." Many negative memories were circulating your brain and you dreaded the thought of crawling back into a ball and sobbing yourself to sleep. "Only if you want to, of course." She smiled and you let go of her wrist as she sat back down.

"I'll stay," she said, "But let me know when you want to get some rest, okay?" Her voice was soft, washing over you like a warm, summer's breeze. She too, a professionally trained agent was going to take the unexplainable risk of staying with you, a prisoner. Perhaps your state wasn't the thing affecting your decision-making.

"The same goes for you," you said. You repositioned yourself so you were in a comfier position, crossing your legs and facing Natasha. You let curiosity get the better of you, wanting to know more about this stranger. "So you're nineteen and you work for a special law enforcement?" She shifted closer to you, leaning towards you slightly.

"It's a long story," she said, " I don't like to tell it either. I was part of a different agency before I joined. I had to pick between S.H.I.E.L.D. or… punishment. It was an easy choice to make." You saw the vulnerability in her eyes and even though you wanted to know more about her vague answer, you didn't want to pry. There seemed to be a lot of organisations here which you weren't used to and didn't fully understand but that was a topic for another time.

"Do you enjoy working for S.H.I.E.L.D.?" you said. She sat back to think about her answer.

"Yeah," she finally decided, "I do. The way I put it is… I've got red in my ledger and I'd like to wipe it out. Protecting the world seems like a good way to do that." You realised that the agency she was a part of before must've been an immoral one. Her face faltered a little. "Sometimes I wish I could live a normal life though." You could empathise with that. You didn't know if you were ever going to live a normal life again; you certainly weren't a normal person anymore. It seemed impossible: you were on a new planet, it was nothing like your own and you had magical powers amongst those who didn't. Director Fury had made it clear that you were a danger. No matter your intentions, you forever had the power to hurt, destroy and kill.

"You're a hero then?" you said. She laughed, her hair slipping off her shoulders.

"No, I'm just a spy." You shook your head. She helped protect the world – isn't that what heroes did?

"Why don't you think you're a hero?" you questioned. The corners of her lips curled up in amusement.

"I've done too much wrong in the world." You could tell Natasha was trying to appear humoured but her smile was strained, her gaze trailing to her lap. You leaned your head closer to her, moving your hand next to her thigh.

"But how much good have you done?" you said. She sighed, looking back up at you.

"I don't know," she said, shifting her body so that she was in the same position as you. She reached out to rest her hand on your knee. "That's enough about me. I want you to tell me more about you." You frowned, trying to ignore the new sensations crawling up your leg.

"Why?" Her body tensed up a little but she maintained her eye contact with you.

"Isn't that how you make friends?" Natasha said quietly. That wasn't the answer you had expected.

"You want to be friends with me?" This didn't make sense to you. She was a spy who was working for the organisation keeping you behind bars. To them, you were a threat, a risk to people's safety. Wasn't that something to despise? You thought back to what she had told you about her past. Perhaps she was in the same position as you or had been. S.H.I.E.L.D. had given her a chance, meaning the agency she was in must've given her heightened abilities. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense to you. She knew what it was like to be in your place, you had a unique shared experience – surely that was a good reason for a friendship to begin. She nodded shyly, her cheeks speckled with pink.

"You're only a year younger than me. What's stopping us from being friends?" You chuckled.

"I think Director Fury may have a few reasons," you said, tilting your head to the side, "How do you know how old I am?" She had begun running her nail up and down the edge of your knee, igniting faint sparks from your nerve endings.

"You were examined while you were still unconscious. They estimated your age based on biological factors and added your information to the database." Your head moved back slightly for a fraction of a second.

"I've been added to a database?" Natasha nodded. This piqued your interest. "Can I see?" She moved her hand off your knee and took out a small, flat box from her pocket, the screen exactly like the wall you had been interrogated behind except there were pictures on it too. She tapped a few buttons before bringing up your name and a photo of you with your eyes closed; you assumed it had been taken when you were still unconscious. You peered at it closely, scanning over the information.

First Name/s: Isaroka

Surname/s: Unknown

Age: 18

Birthday: Unknown

Nationality: Unknown

"That's a lot of unknowns," you pointed out, "Can you show me you?" You wanted to know what a profile was supposed to look like. Natasha tapped a few new buttons before her name and picture appeared in place of yours.

First Name/s: Natalia

Surname: Romanova

Middle Name/s: Alianovna

Birthday: 3rd December 1987

Nationality: Russian-American

You looked at her with a puzzled expression on your face. "I thought you said your name was Natasha?"

"I had to change my identity when I joined S.H.I.E.L.D.," she said, "I decided on Natasha, it's the English version of my name." You nodded in understanding.

"I honestly think that's a shame," you said, "Natalia is a beautiful name." The pink in her cheeks spread to the rest of her face.

"Thank you. That's sweet of you to say." You gestured to the obscure-looking box in her hand.

"What is that?" You had never seen anything like it before. She passed it to you, letting you examine it closely.

"It's called a phone," she explained, "It's… quite complicated to explain. You can do a lot with it: make calls, send messages…" She noticed the blank look on your face, realising you had no idea what she was talking about. "Calls and messages are a way of communication. For example, if I send someone a text from here I can type up what I want to say, click send and then no matter where they are in the world, they can read it." Your jaw dropped.

"What?" you exclaimed, "You're joking, right?" It seemed impossible to you – how was it done? You wondered if you could see it in the air when it was travelling to the next person, like a letter. How could such a small screen perform such a mind-blowing, large task? Natasha brought up someone's name and typed a few words, hitting a button and sending the message. You stared at her in awe.

"Does it use magic to work?" She laughed, adoring the childlike expression on your face; it was like being a Mother when watching her child discover the world for the first time. It was alien to her – she was often surrounded by serious agents and ruthless criminals. You weren't like anyone there and she liked that.

"In a way, you could say that. Technology is kind of magical."

You talked late into the night, sometimes about random topics but most of the time, about Earth. You would need to learn everything about this planet now you were stuck here so it was logical to ask Natasha questions. Luckily for you, she was more than happy to answer. You noticed that she directed the conversation to stay on the topic of Earth as soon as it verged on personal or you tried to learn more about her. Even though you were curious, you didn't push it, deciding to respect her boundaries. Her personal life was none of your business and you would never want to make Natasha uncomfortable; she was your friend after all.

You didn't know why but you were enjoying yourself with her more than you had with anyone for a while. The sound of her voice was almost addicting and you listened to her with genuine interest, only speaking to ask her a question that would give her more to say. It wasn't just her voice that you loved – it was her laugh, her subtle touches, both sending a tingle of nerves through your body. You had only met a few hours ago and you were supposed to be on opposing sides yet the conversation between you was easy, the time slipping through your fingers without either of you noticing. Despite the terrible circumstances you were in, you felt yourself relaxing in her presence. For the first time since before your eighteenth birthday, you were calm. At some point, Natasha checked her phone screen and her face fell.

"What is it?" you asked. You didn't realise how close together you had been until you felt a wave of cold over you as she stood up, stepping away from you.

"It's morning, I have to leave. I'll get into trouble if I'm caught here. I'm sorry." Your smile faded, the muscles in your face aching from overuse. You nodded in understanding.

"There's no need to apologise. I can't thank you enough for being here." You tried to find the words to express your gratitude, to describe how you felt. "It's been…" lonely. All the friends you had were lost, you had no one except her. "Hard. This was nice." Really nice.

There was a long pause before she replied in a hushed voice, "It was nice for me too." She walked towards the door, stopping just before turning the handle. You thought about the possibility of escaping with her aid but quickly dismissed the idea. Your friendship was not enough for her to betray S.H.I.E.L.D. and if you were going to prove yourself trustworthy to them, you had to comply with their commands. You hesitated for a moment.

"You will come back, right?" You thought it might be too much of an ask.

"Of course, I will," she said. Your heart swelled in your chest. "Goodnight Isaroka."

"Goodnight," you said, your emotions much different to the last time she had turned her back on you.

Every day for the rest of the week, you were brought out for questioning and each time, you would give Fury the same answer: You couldn't tell him what planet you were from. So every day, you would be sent back to your cell for another twenty-four hours. Food was served three times a day on a tray and a new prisoner's jumpsuit was delivered to your cell every other day. The only room other than your cell you could access was the bathroom. To pass the time, you would play games with the aid of your cyborg brain, walk laps around the room to keep your body moving or drag out daily tasks like showering so that they took three times as long as they should.

You found that everything in your day would lead up to when Natasha would visit, the streak of light visible in your window giving you a good indication of her arrival – she always came when it was a hazy grey. When she visited, you'd talk until she had to leave in the early hours of the morning. After a few days, she started bringing books with her to show you and teach you more about Earth. Each book portrayed the unique landscapes of Earth, your favourite being the jungles that didn't exist on your planet.

The pictures in her books depicted tropical utopias with rushing waters cascading off cliffs, emerald-rich leaves dripping with translucent, gleaming raindrops, sunset-dipped leaves of hibiscuses blushing in the heat of the sun and electric blue palms. Other books had illustrations of woods with tall trees, their leaves parakeet-green and bark carved with smooth, dirt-riddled grooves that told stories only the wind could read. To find the heart you had to trek down winding, blemished paths that resurfaced from the cover of trees when its follower reached the tranquil lakes far, far away from civilization. Even though your planet had forests, you didn't have what Earthens called 'photos' and no one in your tribe had been able to paint the forests they had seen.

You were a bit embarrassed by your reactions at first; you were so excited and awestruck by each photo and description you were shown. You expected Natasha to judge you but she didn't, instead watching you with a slight shine in her eyes, listening intently to every word you said. She was patient with you and answered your questions to the best of her ability, explaining even simple, boring details. When you grew tired of learning about Earth, Natasha would show you how to play Earthen games, which entertained you until she had to leave. When she wasn't there, she still consumed your day through your thoughts, your memories together replaying in your mind as you looked forward to the approaching evening.

You woke up to the sound of the door creaking open, yawning as you sat up slowly, the bedsheets falling from the top half of your body. You had decided to take a nap after your dinner and had stayed asleep longer than you anticipated. You looked up to see Natasha, your heart beating a little faster in your chest. Her hair was in a tight bun, tiny wisps of garnet framing her face, highlighting the colour of her eyes. She was wearing a loose, white blouse, a sophisticated belt and formal slacks that had creases running down each side. A bag was slung over her shoulder, her black heels echoing against the cell floor.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," she said. You shook your head.

"There's no need to apologise," you reassured. She sat down next to you, rummaging in her bag and producing a rectangular object before reaching down for a circular disk. After a few moments, you recognised the rectangular object to be a laptop, something she had taught you about before but you couldn't even begin to guess what the disk was.

"Do you want to learn about Earth tonight? I didn't plan to teach you today," she said. You covered your mouth to suppress a yawn, still a little lightheaded from the slumber you had been in a few minutes before. You weren't in the mood to learn.

"Not tonight, if that's okay," you said, eyeing the laptop and disc, "I'm assuming you have something more interesting planned." Natasha opened up the laptop and you watched the screen in interest, admiring each detail of the device, fascinated by how such a thin object could achieve so much. She tapped a few buttons and a compartment on the right of the laptop opened, the square shape fitted perfectly for the disk. She picked up the object and the colours shifted in the light, colourful streaks disorientating in the sea of silver.

"This is called a DVD," she said, slotting it into the laptop. The screen changed and after a few moments, a large button appeared in the centre. It looked to be an arrow of some kind. "You use DVDs to watch movies."

"What's a movie?" you questioned. You were both leaning against the wall, your backs beginning to ache and you reached for your pillow, placing it behind you. You adjusted it so you were sharing it with Natasha, forcing you both closer together. Your bodies were almost touching when she clicked on the button in the middle of the laptop's screen.

"You'll see. I found this one after losing it not too long ago, I hope you like it. It'll teach you a little bit about Earth's history too – it's based on something called World War Two." The hazy outline of a mountain appeared on the laptop, darkened against the glowing orange in the background. You had no idea what to expect, wondering if a movie was maybe a collection of photos. The screen moved to focus on a plane drifting into view, leaving a billow of smoke behind it as it made its way across the amber horizon. The landscape behind the plane shifted so it was displaying the scenery in morning light, a date flashing up on the screen. You glanced at Natasha whose eyes were lingering on you, a soft smile on her lips, the background music of the movie soft and slow. You looked back at the laptop to see two boys. A few minutes later, you realised that the collection of photos and sounds were telling some kind of story.

"Is this like a book? But with pictures and music?"

"You could put it that way," she said, "I think you'll enjoy it." In a short span of time, you were soon sucked into the storyline, the moving imagery igniting parts of your brain you weren't aware existed and transported you into a new world, erasing everything around you.

Even though the people on the screen weren't real, it certainly felt like it and their emotions impacted you in the same way a normal person would; they were real, raw and relatable. You could've sworn that if you reached and touched the screen, you would dissolve into the world in front of you: become a part of the characters, a piece of the storyline, walk the steps they took and feel the vibrations of the sounds around them. You slipped back into reality on the occasion when you didn't understand something and Natasha took the time to explain the Earthen history to you and your other questions. Towards the end of the movie, your shoulders were touching and you were close enough for the fragrance of her hair to tickle your senses. The scent was sweet, you thought.

When the movie finished, a strange sensation buzzed over you, reminding you that nothing you had just seen was real. You had so many questions – who had come up with this idea? How many more movies were out there? How was it even possible? You turned to Natasha with a bright smile on your face.

"Thank you for showing me that," you said, "It was amazing." Her forearm brushed against the back of your hand as she zipped up her bag with the laptop safely inside.

"You're welcome," she said, meeting your gaze, "It was my pleasure." She pushed herself off the bed, adjusting the bag over her shoulder. The corners of your lips fell.

"You have to go, don't you?" You knew it was coming but every morning, it still disappointed you. You wished she could stay with you and give you company every hour of the day but you knew it was unrealistic and selfish.

"I'm sorry," she said. You shook your head, standing up and taking a step towards her.

"There's no need to apologise. It's not your fault." You awkwardly stood facing each other for a few moments before Natasha hesitated, opening up her arms to you. You took her offer without a second thought and let her pull you into a hug. You didn't realise how much you needed it until you were melting into her hold, the rush of oxytocin lessening the tension in your body. She was aware of this without you needing to voice it, holding onto you for a few moments longer than necessary. Unbeknownst to you, she needed that hug too.

"I've liked this week," she admitted, "I haven't gotten to know someone new for a while." Or had this much fun, she thought but she would never tell you that. You nodded against her hair. Its scent was more distinguishable up close and it resembled a mixture of your favourite berries.

"Me too," you said, lowering your voice to a mumble, "Thank you for keeping me company." Thank you for giving me hope, you thought. You pulled away from each other, her hair moving in front of her cheeks to hide the pink flush over her skin that she didn't want you to see. Natasha walked towards the door.

"See you tomorrow Isa," she said. Your heart beats a little faster at the nickname – your Mother called you that.

"Goodnight Natasha." You couldn't see each other once the door was closed but both of your smiles stayed as the distance between you grew. She was only a year older than you but you were teaching her what being young is like again.