“Now this is why you’re my favorite.”

“Really?” You questioned. “It wasn’t my good looks and charming personality.” Maria rolled her eyes.

“Timely reports just do it for me.” You chuckled and shook your head.

“You seem tired, Detka,” Natasha said. Her right hand left her drink on the bar and traced the bags underneath your eyes. Her fingers were cold from the ice, and that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Mission was long,” you mumbled. “Might call it early.”

“Are you okay?” Maria asked. Her hand rested on your upper back. This was how it always was. The three of you are touching in some way or another. Natasha’s feet were thrown over you while her head was in Maria’s lap. During meetings, you’d play with the ring on Maria’s hand, tracing each line and scar. It was normal. But tonight it felt wrong. The second Natasha’s fingers touched your face, and Maria’s hand on your back, it felt like it burned. The turtle neck you wore and the closeness of their bodies made you feel claustrophobic.

Natasha was right. You were avoiding them because they were the ones to see through your fake smiles and jokes. “I’m okay,” you said as you stood up from the bar stool, and they stepped back. “Don’t make too many bad choices tonight.”

It was easy to sneak out of the party and venture to your room. Once the door was closed, you shed the turtle neck, and it felt easier to breathe. Sighing, you went to the bathroom and turned on the lights. You kept your eyes down as you brushed your teeth and cleaned your face. Then you had to do the worst part of your routine. You made quick work of it, opening the medicated lotion on your fingers and rubbing it on the scar on your neck.

This wasn’t a small scar, something that was easy to cover up. It ran from one side of your throat to the other. The doctor who saved your life told you the scar would never fully go away. It would serve as a constant reminder of what happened to you.

Once you were satisfied, you washed your hands and crawled into your bed. The scar was always covered, whether it be a turtle neck, a ribbon, or a bandana. No one could see it because no one knew who you were before the Avengers.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

“Something was off with her.” Natasha pulled back the covers to climb into bed next to Maria. “I didn’t get one compliment on my skirt, and I wore it for her.” Maria raised an eyebrow at her.

“I thought you wore it for me.”

“I wore it for both of you.” Maria chuckled and went back to reading the file in her hands. “Is that her mission report?” Natasha asked, then rolled onto her side. Maria hummed. “Well, what does it say?” The brunette sighed.

“Easy in and out. They got the intel and came back.” Maria closed the file and tossed it onto the nightstand.

“Then they omitted something,” the redhead said. Maria brought her into her arms. “Ria, they weren’t themselves tonight.”

“I know,” Maria kissed the top of her head. “But we can’t do anything until they come to us, and when they do, we’ll be ready.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Gods, you were exhausted. Nightmares plagued your mind and kept you up. You were a zombie when you woke up. You stared at the bowl of cereal that rested on the counter. “Hey, sweetheart,” Natasha walked behind you with a gentle touch to your back. The sleepless night was getting to you, and you flinched from her touch. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine,” you answered. “Kept waking up.” Natasha poured the coffee into a mug.

“You know you can always come to us if you are having trouble sleeping.”

“You and Maria are gonna tire me out,” you heard Natasha scuff. In a quick motion, Natasha spun you around. Her hands are on either side of you to cage you in. “Damn, Red, I didn’t think this look would do it for you.” You were standing in a hoodie that was 2 sizes too big for you (you were 90% sure it belonged to Thor) and sleep shorts. Like always, a piece of fabric wrapped around your neck like a scarf.

“Something is wrong,” she said. “I know there is.” You frowned.

“Nothing is wrong,” you said simply. “Tasha,” you spoke softly, hand coming up to cup her cheek. It seemed second nature for her to lean into it. “I’m fine. I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

She snapped out of her haze when you removed your hand. “You omitted something from your report.” She accused you.

“How did you-” you stopped yourself, lips snapped shut. “Don’t do this, Natasha.” Her name felt so foreign on your lips that it sounded like you spoke a different language. She was always Tasha, Red, or Nat. Never Natasha. Her face crumbled slightly. It was a small change that no one would notice besides you, Maria, and maybe her sister. She acted as if you slapped her. You ducked underneath her arm.

“Why did you leave something out of the report?” She questioned.

“Because it didn’t affect the mission or was relevant to it.” Or because you desperately wanted to forget the feeling of their hands on you. It reminded you so much of that night.

“Helen reported no injuries.” She continued.

“I wasn’t injured.” You snapped. No, you weren’t injured. You came damn near close, but you weren’t hurt. The men who grabbed you were a different story. Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’m fine.” Even the lie wasn’t convincing because it was Natasha who was tearing down the walls you were desperately trying to keep up. The redhead had seen you after nightmares and brutal missions that had left you drained. She and Maria had been there for you like you’ve been there for them.

“I’m not gonna let this go.” And you knew she wouldn’t.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

This time you wore shorts and tight-fitted long sleeves. Instead of the loose fabric around your neck, you traded it for a neck gaiter. The black fabric was pulled up to below your nose. You had this cover-up in a million different colors, wearing it with your tactical suit and during training. The scarves, bandana, and ribbons were a part of you; no one on the team questioned it anymore. Sure, they asked when you first joined the team, and you gave them the same answer you gave everyone - ‘I just like having it covered.’ Yelena said you looked badass.

Over the sound of your fist hitting the sandbags, you heard her footsteps. Maria. You figured you had a good hour before she came to find you after your couple argument with Natasha. She leaned against the wall, hair in a neat bun, and her usual uniform on. She must have had a few meetings this morning. “Like what you see, Director?” You questioned as you caught the sandbag and pulled the gaiter below your mouth.

“You know I do.” You chuckled, pulled the boxing gloves off your hand, and picked up your water bottle.

“Are you here to write me up?” You questioned.

“Withholding information on a mission report is grounds for immediate removal,” you watched as she closed the distance between you and her. Your eyes stayed locked on hers. “It’s important we know everything that occurs during the mission, regardless of whether you feel like it was necessary.”

“Okay,” you simply said, choosing not to elaborate more. Maria sighed your name and went to grab your forearm. Her fingers barely touched you before you flinched away. The brunette’s eyes narrowed her. Her eyes cataloged your movements. You’ve seen this look during meetings as she tried to figure out the missing piece.

“You flinched,” she stated. “You flinched last night and this morning with Natasha.” So she noticed it but chose not to say anything to you. “Who hurt you, baby?”

“Ria,” you whimpered. “Please just let it this go.”

“Okay,” she gave in. “You can come to me with anything. I hope you know that.”

“I do,” you nodded. “Just - just not with this. I’m not ready for that.” You turned on your heels and left the gym, ignoring the heartbroken expression on Maria’s face.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You had no idea how you found yourself here - sandwiched between Yelena and Wanda at some bar in New York City that the blonde Russian swore by. It was a decent place. Management allowed you to enter through the back and to the right of the VIP area. You were pretty sure Kate was the one to declare a girl’s night out, and she gave you her best puppy dog eyes that seemed impossible to say no to.

The alcohol from the two shots Yelena forced into your hand and the Long Island you were nursing was making you feel warm and a little loose. It was a dangerous combination, especially with Natasha wearing the black dress and Maria the white button-up. You were only human.

The couple came back with another round of shots that you skipped on. “Are you tapping out early?” Yelena yelled in your ear. You winced at the noise.

“Pacing myself.” You replied.

“Are you worried you’ll end up in bed with my sister and Hill?” You slapped the blonde underneath the table.

“You are disgusting.”

“She’s not wrong, though,” you turned your attention to the witch. “You’ve been avoiding them since you got back from Nigeria.” That solo mission was two weeks ago. You’ve done everything to avoid them. Frankly, it was killing you. You missed them so much, and it was your dumb fault. You looked at the other end of the table. Natasha was talking with Carol. Maria had her arm around the redhead’s shoulder, but she was looking at you. She gave you a smile, and you returned it.

Sighing, you fixed the scarf around your neck. “You should just get out of your head and kiss them.” Yelena flicked the center of your forehead. “Simple.”

“Simple,” you repeated, rubbing the spot she flicked. “How’s that advice working for you with Kate? You’re just going to start making out with her.” Even in the low light of the bar, you saw the blush appear on her cheeks. Wanda laughed, trying to hide it behind a drink.

“Shut it, Maximoff,” the blonde snapped. “Maybe we are both idiots.” You tilted your head back as you laughed. That was the most accurate statement you’ve heard in weeks.

“Let me out, Wands,” you said to the witch after you downed half your drink. “I gotta pee.” You squeezed out of the table and maneuvered around the sea of bodies to the bathroom. You locked the door behind you, quickly peed, and went to the sink to wash your hands. When you looked into the mirror, Natasha was standing behind you. “I locked that,” you said. She hummed. “Your girlfriend knows you’re following other people into the bathroom.”

“Figured it was the only place I could talk to you without you running away.”

“I haven’t been running,” you said, drying your hands with the paper towel and throwing it in the trash. You grabbed the door handle as Natasha grabbed your wrist. You stared into her green eyes.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, barely long enough over the bass of the music on the other side. “We’ve missed you.” And gods, you’ve missed them too. You crumpled at how sad she looked.

“Fuck it,” you mumbled. Before she could question it, you pushed her against the door and kissed her. Her body went tense. Then her brain caught up, she relaxed into you, and her arms wrapped around your shoulders. The number of times you’ve thought about kissing the Black Widow was unhealthy. You moved your hands down her sides, squeezed her ass through the dress, and picked her up by her thighs.

Her legs wrapped tightly around your waist as you moved her to the sink to set her down. You moved your lips to her cheek and down her neck. Natasha’s head hit the mirror, giving you more space to work. “We will need to talk,” Natasha said, moaning slightly as you bite down on her neck and soothed it over with her tongue.

“Talk later,” you mumbled against her skin. “Let me have this, baby, please.” You whispered against her lips. “I promise we’ll talk.” Before she could respond, you brought your lips back to hers. You wasted no time deepening the kiss, and you groaned as you felt her tongue meet yours. Natasha was addicted - her natural taste mixed with the alcohol she had. And maybe if you concentrated hard enough, you could taste Maria lingering on her lips. Shit. You were so down bad for these two. The world could end, and you couldn’t care as long as you had them.

Then you were pulled out of a feeling of bliss when you felt the usual tight fabric around your neck come loose and fall between you two. You jumped back, immediately rubbing at your neck that was fully exposed, and panic raced through your body. Natasha narrowed her eyes at the scar on your neck. “How old is that?” She went to touch the skin, but you recoiled away. The redhead whispered your name, but you were already leaving the bathroom.

There was no stopping you. You ignored the call of your name and grabbed your jacket from the back of the booth. “Whoa,” Yelena said. “Where is the -” the blonde stopped herself. “That is a wicked scar.” Again, your hand went to your bare skin. All of their eyes were on you. You had to get the fuck out of here.

You left the bar through the back and disappeared into the night.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

“Where did they go?” Natasha appeared suddenly. Maria looked at her girlfriend, who was a little disheveled, holding the fabric you always wore. Maria wasn’t stupid. In fact, she was quick to put the pieces together. Natasha followed you to the bathroom. It was taking longer than she expected, but Maria trusted you and Natasha. So she stared at her girlfriend, who no doubt was returning from a steamy make-out session that resulted in your scarf falling and revealing a rather gruesome scar.

Strange enough, Maria was jealous. Not because you and Natasha kissed. No, she couldn’t give a fuck about that. She was jealous because Natasha got to kiss you first, or she couldn’t watch. “They just took off,” Kate said.

“I don’t know why,” Yelena mumbled. “That scar is so cool.” A scar you clearly did not find cool because you always had it covered. Natasha sighed, placing her hands behind her head.

“We’ll find her,” Maria said as she stood up. “I promise.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Despite the rain, you continued walking. Your jacket was zipped up and pulled to your chin. You had no destination in mind but continued to walk the streets of New York City. You were so stupid. It seemed the universe liked to play a cruel joke on you. Whenever you thought you were close to being happy, the rug got pulled out from underneath you. “You are going to get sick.” You heard Maria’s voice from the car that pulled up next to you.

“I hope I do.” You said. You heard Maria’s laugh over the rain; it almost made you smile.

“Get in the car, sweetheart. We are all worried about you.” You kept walking.

“I kissed your girlfriend,” you deflected for some reason. “She’s a good kisser.”

“Trust me, I know,” you could hear the smirk in her voice. “Get in the car.” You stopped and leaned against the car to look into the passenger window.

“Would you still want me when you learn how much of a monster I truly am?” You questioned. Maria looked you over, eyes on your neck, which was covered by your jacket.

“Yes,” she answered. “Now get your ass in the car.” You huffed but got into the passenger seat. Maria reached in the back and threw you a towel.

“Thanks,” you mumbled and dried off your hair. Maria pulled onto the street and headed back to the tower with a hand on your thigh like it was the most natural thing.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Maria had something to do with it because you were able to walk into the tower and to your room without being surrounded. Maria walked you to your door, kissed your cheek, and told you to take your time. You promised Natasha that you would talk to her.

You smiled, went to your shower, and stayed under the water until it went cold. Then you got out, dried quickly, changed into baggy clothes, and wrapped a scarf around your neck. Everyone knew, but it felt second nature. Sighing, you grabbed the lotion and walked over to Natasha and Maria’s room. You only knocked once before the door swung open. “Hey, Red,” you whispered. She offered you her hand, and you took it. You stepped into their room and closed the door behind you. Maria was changed and sitting in their bed.

“Come sit,” Natasha led you to their bed. You sat down and crossed your legs. “Are you okay?” The redhead asked. You sighed.

“I’m tired,” you admitted. “I’ve carried this for so long?” Maria asked.

“16,” you answered. Slowly, you unwrapped the scarf. It felt weird having it exposed and under the gaze of the two people you cared for so deeply. You untwisted the cap of the lotion and took some on two of your fingers. “I know it’s ugly and hard to look at. I-”

“Stop.” “Enough.” They said at the same time.

“Stop putting words in our mouths,” Natasha added. You opened and closed your mouth to come up with something, but decided against it. You rubbed the lotion on your scar while they watched intensely.

“I was working with a group called The Liberty,” the slight hitch in Natasha’s breath told you she knew who they were. “I was a gun for hire. I wasn’t proud of the work, but it provided money, food, and a roof over my head.” You tried to justify some of the kills all the time. They were dirty politicians or drug lords. “I refused to kill one of my targets. She was just 6 years old.”

You would never forget her name: Alana Peterson, the daughter of Tina Peterson, who was married to David. David was the CEO of Zeus Enterprises. Tina had an affair with a competitor, which resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. For 6 years, David raised Alana as if she were his flesh and blood. Like always, the truth came to light, and as Tina’s punishment, Alana was going to be killed. You were hired to do it.

“This was my punishment. They left me to die on the concert floor. I could feel the blood pooling around me.” You were surprised when Natasha placed her hand on your arm. You were shaking. “I blacked out and woke up in a bed.”

“Why do you hide it?” Maria questioned.

“I don’t want pity when people see it,” you whispered. “And,” you sighed. Well, you’ve come this far. “It’s a constant reminder of when I was at my most vulnerable. The doctor who saved my life, the payment terms were not conventional.” He was 30 years your senior. You spent the next 4 years recovering under him more than living. Once you’ve gotten your strength back, you killed him to escape him. Fury found you when you were 25, so you had 5 years tracking down the group and killing them for leaving you to die. It took one comment from random people of disgust or strange fascination that made you cover your neck. People looked at you like a freak. A science experiment that they were trying to understand.

Carefully, Natasha grabbed the lotion you placed next to Maria. “Do you trust us?” You hesitated.

The simple answer was yes. Time and time again, they saved your life. You had no reason not to trust them, aside from fear. “Yes,” your voice shook as you tried to act confidently. Natasha smiled and opened the lotion. Your eyes followed her hands as they traveled closer to your neck.

Your back was taunt, and you tried to keep yourself from flinching. Her touch was soft and warm. You never allowed another person to touch your scar. The sensation was different but not unwelcome. Soon, you felt the tension leave your shoulders. It felt nice to have someone else hold the weight.

Natasha passed the lotion to Maria. You gave the agent a smile as she put lotion on her fingers and touched your skin. It was overkill, but the feeling was too nice to push them away. “You’re safe with us,” Maria whispered. “You will always be safe with us.” A shaky breath left your lips, and your throat burned as you kept back your tears.

“Yeah?” You questioned. Sometimes it was hard to believe even when they said it. Natasha put her hand on your shoulder and pulled you closer to her. You felt your body slump against her, and her lips brushed against the side of your head.

“Always,” Natasha promised.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Hiding how you felt from your girls wasn't too hard, or rather, they'd been so busy over the past couple months that you hardly saw each other which didn't help you hide your mood.

You huddle in the blankets and look at the ceiling, a sigh leaves your lips as you run your thumb over the cuts on your left arm.

A slight sting rises up your arm as you touch a particularly deep one.

You are tired, you do nothing and you are tired. You don't eat, sleep late or sleep at all and don't get out of bed except to take a shower every two days.

You pull the blankets away from your body and throw them on the floor, sit up and take another look at the clock hanging on the wall. Wanda and Natasha are about to return from the mission, they told you something about it a few days ago and, that morning J.A.R.V.I.S. he had kindly reminded you.

Five minutes and your girls would have seen you like that. You cannot allow it.

You do not know where you find your strength but you manage to fix the room and also to fix yourself before the Sokoviana and the former Russian spy enter the room. You are sitting on the bed, your legs crossed, and you have put a smile on your face praying that they would not notice how fake it actually was.

"Hey, you're back," you get out of bed and are immediately surrounded by the arms of your girls.

"We missed you." Natasha smiles at you and kisses her cheek as Wanda grabs you by the hips.

"How are you? What have you done in these days?" Wanda and Natasha sit on the bed and look at you with a smile.

How the hell did you deserve them? They are divine, they are literally goddesses and they are with you! How do they stay with you?

Although they are perfect, you feel weird. You still want to curl up in bed and never go out again. You want to sleep and you don't want to talk to anyone; not even with the loves of your life. What the fuck is your problem ?!

You release the lump in your throat and force a smile.

"The usual things, nothing special"

Your gaze falls on your bare wrist and, unnoticed, you pull down your sleeve. They don't know that you cut yourself and you want everything except that they find out by looking at your arms. During sex you only managed to hide it from him thanks to industrial amounts of foundation but you haven't put any on in the last week and the cuts are more visible than ever.

You give them a little smile, you are praying that they have not seen anything and their serene looks make you calm. They motion you to get on the bed with them before lying down.

You lie down in the center, Natasha is on your right and Wanda is on your left, and as soon as you do they wrap you in their arms.

You should feel happy, safe ... but instead the only thing you feel is that weight on your chest that doesn't seem to want to go away for months, that sense of loneliness that makes you feel alone even in a room full of people ... you should be happy yet you are barely holding back the tears. You hate feeling like this, this thing sucks.

You take a deep breath and try to relax, to clear your mind while enjoying that contact that has been denied you for more than a week, to no avail. Your heartbeat increases and your breathing shortens as your panic begins to rise.

Air, you need air.

You extricate yourself from the embrace, almost falling out of bed for the haste with which you do it. You don't want to have a panic attack and you don't want them to see you like that.

You hear their voices screaming your name as you leave the room and run to the only safe place your panic attack would accept at the moment. After four flights of stairs, done in less than a minute, you open the door to the roof and collapse to the ground, your back against the wall as you squeeze the shirt between your fingers, right above your chest, to try to slow down your breath.

Look up; the sky is clear and faint rays of sunlight hit your face. The noise of New York is a distant memory up there, the only noise you hear is the light wind hitting your face.

In a few minutes your heartbeat slows down, as does the rising and falling of your chest. You close your eyes and stay like this for a few minutes, in silence, while the thoughts in your head and the voices seem to have disappeared.

You don't even hear the sound of the roof door opening and flinching when someone puts a hand on your shoulder.

"It's just us dorogoy," Natasha's voice makes you relax and you open your eyes.

The two young women are kneeling in front of you and are looking at you with concern.

"Are you okay honey?" Wanda reaches for her hand to take yours and squeezes it briefly as her gaze is fixed on yours.

You nod and stand up giving them your best smile.

"I'm fine, I just needed some air"

Before either of you can say anything, get off the roof while your girls follow you; almost running after you.

"Y / n, wait!" Natasha stops you by taking your pulse. The brawl spy looks you in the eyes of her, she knows that something is wrong and the fact that you are hiding it from both of them makes her worry even more.

"That was a panic attack and we all know it ... talk to us love," Wanda whispers as concern grows on both of their faces.

“Girls, I'm fine; really, "you shake off Natasha's grip and keep walking, you're heading for the common room and you're hoping someone will distract them, even though you know it's impossible.

As soon as you enter, Peter comes towards you with a toothy smile.

"Y / n! You finally left your room !! Can we now play that game I asked you to play over a week ago? " the spider boy asks you and you want to kill him. Obviously the information did not go unnoticed by Natasha and Wanda m, who exchange a glance, before looking at you. You have to find an excuse and you have to do it fast.

"I'm a little tired Peter-" the sense of guilt grips your stomach when you see the disappointed look of the young man: "maybe tomorrow?"

You suggest and immediately the boy smiles again as he nods frantically.

"Thanks y / n" he yells at you waving at you as he leaves the room.

Only the three of you remain, the silence hovers between you and for once, you hope it will last forever. Obviously, someone up there wants you badly.

"Y / n ... have you really been in our room since we left for the mission?" Wanda whispers as Natasha looks you in the eye, ready to catch any hint of a lie in them.

You have to think of something quickly, very, very quickly.

"Yes, I haven't been very well."

You shrug and smile.

Your face hurts from all those forced smiles; you're so tired, the only thing you want to do now is lie down in bed and stay there.

Neither Natasha nor Wanda believe you and you can't help but sigh as you look away.

"Y / n you can talk to us," Wanda murmurs, reaching out her hand to take yours.

"Anything detka, I hope you know." Natasha approaches you, taking your other hand and giving you a small smile.

You walk away shaking your head.

“I'm fine, okay? I'm just tired and I'd like to go to rest "

You try to ignore the hurt looks on their faces, due to your estrangement, with poor results.

You sigh and run a hand through your hair.

Natasha opens her mouth to say something but she is interrupted by Tony.

"GENTLEMAN! What a pleasure to see you ... there will be a party tonight; it has been a long mission and we are entitled to some alcohol "Tony winks at you before leaving.

No, you absolutely don't want to see other people and you don't even have the strength.

You look up and see that both Natasha and Wanda are staring at you, unable to hide their concern in their eyes.

You are tired. Tired of seeing them suffer because of you, tired of suffering, tired of not recognizing yourself when you see yourself in the mirror, you are tired of the voices, you are tired of the dark circles that surround your eyes, you are tired even though you sleep constantly ... but maybe, it's not that kind of fatigue. Perhaps it is that fatigue that kills you slowly, that that wears you out from within and that leaves you on your knees.

Maybe it's that thing you kept inside all those years, held back as much as you could and then it finally exploded. That thing from which you want to keep the loves of your life away, as much as possible, thus forcing yourself to distance yourself from them.

They deserve better, they deserve to be happy and you ... you can't give them that happiness when you can't even love yourself.

So do the thing you do best, pull up the mask and rebuild the walls that the two Avengers tore down so hard long ago.

"I have to talk to you," you say, your voice is firm and if only they could hear your heart ... they would know that what you are about to say hits you worse than a bullet in the heart.

"We have to talk to you too," Wanda says, referring to both herself and Natasha, who just nods her head.

You wait for them to sit on the sofa before you start talking.

"The last period was not easy" you pause meeting their gazes, you're doing it for them, they deserve better: "and I don't think our relationship can continue"

There is a minute of silence before Natasha and Wanda look at you in shock.

"What?! Y / n you… we will be there more, I promise you »Wanda's suffering voice makes you almost waver, almost. Remember y / n you are doing this only for their own good.

Natasha remains silent and just stares at you.

“Nat, why aren't you saying anything? She-"

“Wanda has already decided, there is nothing we can do to change her mind. Look at it "

Obviously Natasha noticed that you had raised the walls, it was stupid to hope that it would go unnoticed even in her eyes.

"We love you," Wanda whispers, her tears dripping from her cheeks and your heart aches to see her like that.

You are a coward and you run away from your problems. But now you're doing it for them, right? Or are you doing it because you don't want to see them suffer because of you?

"Y / n, you can't keep running away indefinitely. One day you won't have breath to run anymore »Natasha looks at you with shining eyes, she is trying hard, she doesn't want to cry. She refuses to do this but it is getting difficult.

You give her a sad smile before you answer.

"I'm afraid I've finished breathing for quite a while Nat"

As soon as those words leave your lips, you turn your back on them and walk out of the room. And they let you go, with a heavy heart; giving in to tears and sobs as soon as they think you are far enough away.

Two days go by and you feel even worse than before. You can't believe you've let them go, you can't really believe you've abandoned your people… the loves of your life, your soul mates. But you convince yourself that you did it for them, even after Nat's 12th call and Wanda's equally numerous messages. And all the times they stopped in front of your door talking to you through them, without being able to open it since you were locked.

You hide in your room, a dormouse under the covers, hoping to close your eyes and never open them again. And the disappointment you get when they open up every blessed time… fuck, it's one of the worst feelings you've ever experienced.

And after the umpteenth time you open your eyes and breathe again, you can't take it anymore. The voices in your head don't stop, your heartbeats seem faster and faster and the noises get louder. And greet your old friend, travel companion, suffering, quiet days ... endless minutes and second abysmal. And for the umpteenth time in your life, you place that blade on your skin. One cut, two, three, four… in you make so many that you stop counting them. As if enchanted by the blood dripping shortly after seeing the white of the cut fat, and then again and again.

You don't even hear the phone ringing three times or the keys stuck in the door. And you don't even hear the footsteps that stop on the threshold of the bathroom.

"Fuck" Natasha slings onto you and tries to rip off her razor blade but you hold it tightly in her fist, cutting her palm too. Natasha stops immediately when she sees more blood coming out of your body from that cut. You don't think you've ever seen her so desperate and worried and panicked.

"No! Stop! y / n you have to stop »Natasha tries again to take away the razor blade but you walk away. The bathroom is now a pool of blood and Natasha quickly thinks about what to do.

It is as if there were only you in the bathroom, you are not aware of what is happening and the only thing you can think about is the razor blade that you hold tightly in your hand.

"Wanda! WANDA, COME HERE !! I NEED HELP!" the ex Russian spy screams and begins to squeeze the towels against your wounds, trying to stop the blood.

"Nat what-"

Wanda freezes, standing still for a few seconds before falling to Natasha's side, on her knees, with tears in her eyes as she sees what you've done to yourself.

"She's lost too much blood," Natasha murmurs to Wanda. The two girls glance at you and their concern increases when they see the glazed look in your eyes.

Wanda walks over and before you can do anything, she gets into your head.

The sokovian winces and you blink a couple of times looking around.

"Why didn't you tell us how you felt?" Wanda says between sobs while Natasha squeezes the towel around your arms a little tighter.

"I-I .." you swallow looking at the ground, not wanting to meet their eyes: "I'm so tired"

A sob shakes your body as the blade slips from your hand and falls to the ground. Natasha grabs her and pulls her away before taking you into her arms.

"You have us, you have a lot of people who love you and if you don't want to talk to us you can talk to a specialist, okay?" Natasha leaves you a good amount of kisses on the temple before Wanda joins her embrace.

"We love you so much detka. We will always be with you, always" Wanda rubs her nose against your neck, tightening her grip a little tighter and a small smile, a real smile, she purses your lips.

And for the first time in months, you feel safe in their arms; It will still suck some days but they will be by your side in every single shit moment.

Thanks for reading! I hope this isn't too terrible and leave a comment if you want, I'm always happy to read them <3