#realisations

Chapter Warning: Dark thoughts, Mentions of past abuse

—

A gentle whir filled the tranquil kitchen as you fiddled with the coffee machine in front of you, the various switches confusing you as you wracked your brain to remember the demonstration Natasha had showed you, the spy having noticed you enjoyed having the drink but was too shy to ask how to make it. You flicked and poked what you believed to be the correct buttons to make the black coffee you wanted, intrigued by the noises that the machine made as it kicked into gear, fascination filling you.

Staring ahead, your gaze was locked on the brown liquid being poured into your cup, still not used to adapting to life away from the abusive walls of Hydra, your thoughts consumed with questions about the device in front of you as your morning coffee was made. Your brows furrowed when you noticed your coffee wasn't how you intended it to be, a small disappointed expression creeping onto your face as you thought about the memory of Natasha again, your mind unable to resist thinking back to this morning and last night instead of focusing on the task at hand.

The gentle and caring shade of green consumed your mind, the memory of her soft and delicate smile tugging at her lips, the tender glint in her emerald enough to bring a timid smile to your face, a strange warmth bubbling inside you when thinking of Natasha. The sensation was odd, the thought of her also causing your cheeks to feel warm, further confusing you as you stared ahead at your mug, trying to understand what you were feeling but your thoughts were inevitably driven back to remembering more about last night.

A soft hum stirred you awake as your eyes fluttered open, brows furrowing at the unfamiliar surroundings as your neck craned to look around you, observing for threats when a drowsy noise drew your gaze to your shoulder, noticing a tuft of red hair resting against your body as Natasha slept peacefully, the sight stirring a swarm of butterflies throughout your stomach, your chest enveloped in warmth and care as you watched her snuggle her face further against your shirt.

Your cheeks heated up once again at the memory, fingers nervously playing with the handle of your mug as you sipped on your drink, curious as to why you didn't mind the physical contact with her, normally tensing when anyone else touched you in fear of what was to come. It was different with her though, you felt... safe. You always felt so safe with her.

God you're so naïve.

The darkness muttered, your head snapping up at the reflection of yourself, their disappointed face staring back at you as you scoffed, not wanting to hear them berate you right now. Frustrated wasn't enough to describe how you were with the darkness gnawing away inside you, their constant comments driving you insane as you tried your best to ignore them after yesterday, the way they tried to ruin your moment with Natasha as you made sure she wasn't troubled by anymore nightmares.

She's using you. They all are.

You sighed in irritation as you dismissed their words, fighting against every urge in your body that wanted to retaliate to their comments, to tell them that Natasha would never do such a thing, to save your own energy as it was pointless arguing with them. If you had learnt anything from yesterday in your room, it was that they were only ever after one thing: control.

If you're so sick of me, just give me control, I'll leave you alone. I might pay Natasha a visit though.

They snickered, your jaw clenching, shoulders tensing and posture turning rigid, a wave of disgust and nausea flooding through you at their words, your mind already knowing what they were insinuating as they mentioned her, a sudden wave of protectiveness consuming you.

"Touch her and I'll-" You threaten before they interrupt you, venom lacing your words as your voice raises a little, your grip increasing on the mug so much you can hear it cracking, a small piece crumbling off the handle.

You'll what?

Humour and mockery was evident in their tone as their lips curled up into a sinister and smug smirk, your gaze conveying the rage you were bottling up, the sight of your vexation only encouraging them to continue.

Kill me? Tell me, I want to know what you want to do to me. I want to hear all the dark and twisted things you're thinking about.

Remaining silent at their words, your jaw clenched so hard you could feel your teeth grinding against one another, small, disgusting crunches audible, the pain going ignored as you desperately tried to remain calm despite the violent flashes flooding through your mind, a longing to hear them scream in agony lingering in the back of your mind. You didn't want to give them the satisfaction of tormenting you.

Don't you want to tell me? That's a shame, it's ok though, I got everything I wanted anyway.

They muttered, crossing their arms over their chest, a cocky expression written across their face as they took in your confused expression, your brows furrowed as you swallowed nervously, your mind trying to piece together what they were referring to. A small chuckle left their lips as they shook their head in disbelief, amused at the brief panic in your eyes as you frantically tried to figure out an answer.

I know how to make you snap. You don't have to give me control, I just have to make you lose it.

A pained expression takes over your face, regret filling you as you let your emotions control you in that moment, resulting in you showing them your weakness. Your hands dragged over your face, your palms hitting the side of your head to try and shake the thoughts away.

I have the perfect target in mind.

They taunt, your head turning away from their reflection to try and distance yourself from the darkness momentarily, trying to get a grip of yourself and regain some composure, their words engraved in your mind as you knew what they meant.

"Don't hurt her," you murmur, tone almost pleading as you reluctantly bring your gaze to meet their entertained expression, a mocking laugh leaving them as your eyes go vacant, trying to block out everything.

Who said I was going to hurt her?

I'm going to show her what a monster you are.

Their tone contained a small hint of excitement as their voice softened annoyingly, purposely trying to rile you up even more by being condescending with you.

She's going to hate you and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

Before you can argue back, the sound of approaching footsteps stops you, your body turning away from the reflection of yourself in the coffee machine, head lowering as you stared down at your feet as you forced yourself to be composed, a blank and empty expression washing over your face as one last mocking laugh rang around your skull, the sound tormenting.

Your eyes only lifted once the figure entered the kitchen, a yawn stretching across Wanda's face as she pulled down on the edge of her sleeves, dragging the fabric over her hands before lifting it to cover her mouth, her entire appearance and mannerisms suggesting she was reluctant to be out of bed. Her lips tugged into a tired smile once she saw you, her brows furrowing at your rigid form leaning against the countertop, the brunette seeing straight through the forced smile planted on your lips, concern taking over her as you avoided eye contact, seeming to withdraw from the situation.

"Hey are you ok?" She asked, voice soft and filled with concern as she stepped closer, moving to grab her own mug to make her morning coffee, her eyes trained on your form, watching as your shoulders slump, eyes flickering between various objects.

"Yeah," you sigh out, tone soft as you mask over your anger at the darkness and your anxiety of nearly being caught arguing with them, breathing in slowly to try and keep yourself calm. "Made my coffee wrong," you mutter, trying to lighten the mood with a joke, something you noticed others around here do when things weren't going their way, Tony in particular doing this.

The corner of Wanda's lip tugged up a little bit in an attempted smile, her worry still evident as she could hear the loud static in your mind, her hand reaching for another mug to make you the right drink despite knowing that clearly wasn't the reason for your unusual behaviour.

"If it's about yesterday..." She starts off, hesitant to push you into talking about something you didn't want to, the young witch having heard brief moments of your inner turmoil on the jet back to the compound, understanding your fear of being rejected from the group for your mistake. "You don't have to worry, none of us are angry with you," her tone is soft, emphasising her care for you as she slides over a mug full of black coffee, a genuine smile creeping up onto your face at her kindness.

"Steve seems angry," you mumble, Wanda chuckling under her breath at your small huff, her head tilting to look at you as she moves on to grabbing a bowl to have some cereal in, smiling to herself as your shoulders relax, mind slowing and becoming calmer.

"Steve's always annoyed with you," her tone gentle as you never seemed to be on the super soldier's good side, "But let's not talk about him, I've got something more interesting I want to talk about." There's a giddiness in her tone as she moves to sit at the kitchen island, her eyes on you as you stand there looking confused, arms reaching back to brace yourself against the countertop whilst you wait for her to continue.

"Is there any particular reason I saw you leaving Natasha's room this morning?" Wanda's tone was teasing whilst her face was filled with curiosity, an eager glint in her eyes as she impatiently waited for you to answer, the excitement bubbling inside her only growing when your cheeks flushed red, your mouth opening and closing, unsure what to say.

"I um-," you stammer, confused at the sudden flood of emotion through you as those emerald eyes clouded your vision, a shy expression taking over your face as you remember more from this morning, your previous anger and annoyance dissipating at the mere thought of the redhead.

Your eyes fluttered open once more as a soft object glided across your abdomen, tired eyes flickering down to see Natasha's hand resting against you, her soft fingertips clasping at the delicate fabric of your shirt as her body leaned into you, her breath tickling the side of your neck as you let her rest. Carefully, you tilted your head to admire her sleeping form, a sense of peace washing over you at the soft and tender moment, an affectionate smile directed at her as she sighed in her sleep. The racing thoughts in your mind quietened when you were with her, causing you to stay despite the unfamiliarity of the situation, her calming presence enough to persuade you into following your heart and stay with her.

"I slept with her," you managed out after a moment, Wanda's eyes widening at your words, an amused smile growing on her lips as she gathered you meant you shared the bed with her, not the more sinful meaning to those words. At your nervous smile, the brunette couldn't help but soften her gaze at you, your cheeks still a vibrant shade of red as you practically confessed the words, Wanda deciding to not ask you too much about the night as it felt intrusive.

"Did you sleep well?" She asked, knowing you had been suffering from nightmares, the young woman having seen you in the kitchen during the middle of the night many times as she left to grab a glass of water.

"Yeah," you whisper out, working it out in your mind as you realise you slept for roughly seven hours, more than you probably ever had in one go without being disturbed by violent images or flashbacks.

"That's good," Wanda murmurs, having another spoonful of her cereal as she grins at the way you seem lost in thought, your smile widening when you think more about how you felt last night with Natasha, the witch entertained by how enamoured you seemed. "Do you like Natasha?" She asked after a moment, hoping you'd trust her enough to tell her about how you felt towards her friend, her brows furrowing as you frowned at her question in confusion.

"Of course I like her," you reply, scepticism clear in your voice as why wouldn't you like the Russian?

At your words, Wanda can't help but giggle at your obliviousness, her nose scrunching up in an adorable manner as she chuckled at you, her head shaking playfully.

"No, I mean do you like her?" She asks this time, emphasising the double meaning to her words in hopes that you'd catch on. You simply stare at Wanda, puzzled as she just repeated herself, blinking a couple times as you try to decipher what she means, nothing coming to mind.

"You just said the same thing in a different tone, I don't understand," your tone clearly showing your lack of comprehension as you still stare at her, lost in what was going on.

"You might want to sit down for this," her voice is a gentle tease as she smiles at you, your brows furrowing as you remember hearing the people in her sitcoms say something similar when the conversation was going to be something hard to grasp, the witch trying to figure out a way to explain romance to you. "You know in the Dick Van Dyke show how Rob and Laura are in love, how do you think they feel about each other?" She tries, watching as you contemplate your answer, the gears in your mind slowly turning.

"They...care a lot about each other?" You ask, unsure of how they would feel, love being an emotion you were unfamiliar with, one you were never shown during your time in Hydra.

"Yeah, that's right," she confirms, her tone encouraging, "What else shows they are in love?"

"They're happy together," your mind is filled with various images from the black and white sitcom, your thoughts searching for more specific scenes. "They make each other smile and they seem comfortable and safe with one another," you answer, Wanda's smile growing that little bit bigger at your words, her gaze soft as she lets you continue thinking about the couple.

"Now how do you feel when you're with Natasha?" Wanda's voice was a soft murmur, her words causing your brows to furrow once more in confusion as you think about her question.

You didn't know where to start, you're heart fluttered at the sight of her, the mere thought of her, part of you longed to be with her as much as possible, to hear her gentle laughter bless your ears, to watch as her eyes sparkle with mirth when she'd tease someone. The whole world seemed to fade away when you were with her.

A wave of realisation washes across your face, Wanda gauging your reaction as your mouth opens and shuts, a nervous smile taking over your face as your fingers drum against the countertop.

"Are you saying I'm-" you pause, not sure whether you should say the words or not as you try to wrap your head around what the witch was telling you, "I'm in love with her?"

"I'm not saying anything," she whispers playfully, her eyes glistening with excitement at your epiphany. "I'm asking you if you could be."

You sink back against the back of the chair as her words sink in, a flustered but also confused expression taking over your face whilst you think harder about the situation, a shy expression taking over your face once you realise the answer.

"I think I am," your voice was a barely audible whisper as you confess to her how you feel, the surge of affection flowing through you causing you to miss how your reflection smirks cruelly, their sinister chuckle going unnoticed as you smile at the woman opposite you, blissfully unaware.

***

Rolling onto her side, Natasha's eyes gradually fluttered open as she slowly woke up, her hand reaching across the sheets for the source of warmth she had all night, her brows furrowing as her hand met the cold fabric of her sheets, a wave of disappointment flooding through her. The redhead blinked a few times as she moved to sit upright, back against the headboard as she stretched her stiff muscles, her hands pushing back the stray strands of hair in her face, gaze falling on the empty side of the bed, lips pursing as her shoulders slumped at your absence.

Natasha knew deep down why she felt a sudden weight in her chest at the thought of you leaving her in the night but the Russian too scared to admit to herself that she had hoped you would have stayed the full night, letting her wake up to the sight of you relaxed and content with her. The weight only lifted a little when she noticed the small note on her bedside table, brows furrowing as she reached over to grab it.

Carefully, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the torn piece of paper, her eyes scanning over the message as a tender and fond smile subconsciously snook onto her face, Natasha's heart being encased in warmth as she read your scruffy handwriting, the disappointment swiftly fading into appreciation.

I didn't want you to be uncomfortable when you woke up so I left early just in case. I hope you slept well :)

A chuckle left her lips at your attempt at a smiley face, the smile crooked but just as endearing as she stared at the paper, your subtle acts of kindness something she adored about you. The image of you tearing the paper from her notepad on her desk as quietly as possible, your face screwed up in concentration as you wrote the message without waking her up, extremely amusing to her, her features softening at the thought of you.

At the swarm of affection that rushed through her, she sighed as she leaned her head back against the frame of her bed, eyes fluttering shut as she tried to pick apart her thoughts, not used to such a variety of emotions flowing throughout her. She thought back to how safe she felt with you last night after opening up, the moment of vulnerability something that terrified her but you managed to get her through it somehow, the spy unsure as to why she felt such a strong pull towards you, her emerald flickering back to the note in her hands, unable to stop the small smile it caused.

She groaned at the way she felt heat rush to her cheeks, the usually stoic and composed Black Widow nowhere to be seen as she bit her lower lip shyly, deciding on what to do next as the thought of you lingered in her mind, the thought slowly gnawing away at her and scaring her, lessons from her past coming back to haunt her. The weight that pulled on her chest earlier doubled as reality set in for her, fear taking over as she decided she needed to talk to Clint, the man aware of how hard it was for her to understand how she was feeling, the archer the best there was to help her understand that having emotions wasn't always a sign of weakness or something to be afraid of.

Sliding the note into her drawer to keep it safe, Natasha made her way out of bed and into her workout gear before searching for her best friend, her brows rising at the sight of him in his suit outside his room, his bow firmly attached to his back whilst a small bag was packed in his hands.

"Where are you going?" She asked as she leaned on the door frame, Clint searching for something as his head turned at the noise, a casual smile on his face.

"Florence, Stakeout Mission," he explains, his gaze landing on Natasha and immediately noticing the hint of hesitation written across his face, his back straightening as he stops looking for his gloves, concern filling him at her apprehensive form.

"How long till you leave?" His eyes soften at her tone, the small voice reminding him of when he first had a vulnerable conversation with her all those years ago when she joined shield, his head motioning for her to join her on his bed.

"A few hours," he answers in a soft murmur, waiting for her to speak about what she wanted as he knew she wanted to control the situation as much as possible, being open making her feel out of control and unnerving her.

"Last night I had a nightmare," she eventually manages out, her eyes glued to her fingers that toyed with one another, the archer listening attentively, wanting to help her out as much as he could. "Y/n comforted me through it and I..." she trails off, building the courage to confess what she wanted to him. "I'm scared of how I feel about her."

Her head lifts to meet his soft gaze, needing his support as memories from the Red Room fill her mind, the brutal lessons taught to all the young girls about what to never feel, what makes you weak.

"How do you feel about her?" Clint gently prompts, already having an idea of how she felt as the Russian remembers the punishments from her past, the innocent girls who had to suffer for feeling this way. He had seen the way the two of you had looked at each other, the way your eyes would always search for one another when in a room, unable to stop admiring one another. It reminded him of when he first met Laura.

"I care about her," she murmurs, "I care too much." Her tone conveyed the hesitation and uncertainty she felt, her mind searching for a way to express to the man what was going on in her mind, needing help unravelling the mess of thoughts tangling in her head. "I... I don't know why I'm feeling like this, love is for children," she sighs out, her gaze avoiding the archer's as she feels so unshielded and vulnerable, "It's just going to make me weak."

"Love doesn't make you weak," Clint's voice is laced with honesty and care, the man delicate with his words as he knew what lies she was fed her entire childhood. "It makes you human."

"I'm just so scared," she whispers out, his shoulder brushing hers as he bumps them gently to show her he's here for her.

"I know," he murmurs comfortingly, "It's going to be scary and I can't guarantee that it won't hurt at some point, but I promise you that, if it's the right person, it'll be worth everything."

The room slowly dims into silence as the words sink in for Natasha, her mind acknowledging what he was saying and trying to understand it, contemplating whether she was brave enough to take the risk with you or not as he sits with her, being supportive.

"Thank you," she whispers, breaking the comfortable quietness that had taken over the room, the corner of his lips tugging up a little at the small smile that graced her lips, his hand patting her leg reassuringly.

"Anytime," he mutters softly, moving to stand and continue his search for his archery gloves, Natasha following suit and going straight to his desk, having spotted them hidden behind his laptop as soon as she entered the room. "Thanks," he says whilst taking them from her, ensuring they were securely placed in his bag before looking back over at her, her gaze locked on a framed picture of him and his wife, "You deserve to be happy Nat, if she means that much to you, I say go for it."