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The Red Room has no space for weakness. Itâs a sentiment instilled into Natasha from the day her and Yelena are dragged back in from their stint undercover in Ohio, and one she carries with her long after the organisation has been dismantled.
She doesnât startle, her hands donât shake, she is calm, placid, the living embodiment of neutrality. It was never a bad thing in her mind until she met Sharon, why would it be a bad thing when your universe revolves around espionage and missions and little else?
Sharon isnât like her, she startles when Tony sneaks up on his âfavourite little cousinâ, as he loves to tease her, and when Natasha slides her icy fingertips under her shirt. Never once have her hands shook when in the heat of the moment, when life and death are contending in a neck and neck battle, but when Natasha proposes to her, she struggles to get the ring on her finger thanks to the trembling digits.
There is not a single universe where Sharon is neither calm nor placid nor the living embodiment of neutrality, and Natasha wishes that the same can be said for her in at least one of those universes.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Sharon and Natasha just want to go on vacation but as usual, Nazis ruin everything. They wind up in Kentucky, with Hope Van Dyne and Scott Lang in tow, trying to keep a lid on a very small, very big problem. A bug problem, if you will.
A continuation of the Civil War AU! Sharon/Nat and Scott/Hope centric.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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summary: the red room wonât break her, she wonât allow it the chance.
pairing: sharon carter x natasha romanoff
warnings: the red room, discussions of mind control/brainwashing, implied violence
word count: 2178
read it on ao3
As Sharon comes to, her mind incredibly foggy as she tries to assess her current situation, she finds her range of motion inhibited. When she tries to sit up from her slumped position on the floor, she hears the rattling of chains as she stretches her arms from her sides. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, her eyes darted around the room, finding a dreary setting, the bed beneath her absolutely rock hard without any bedding, her hands attached to the headband by some short range yet heavy duty handcuffs.
Her attempts to control her breathing are less than successful, the measured breaths Aunt Peg had taught her to do having been thrown out of the window to give way to the hyperventilation that threatens her consciousness once more. Despite her best attempts to remember what happened to wind her up here, wherever here is exactly, her memory is fuzzy, her last solid memory being walking onto her college campus the morning before. It is a fruitless activity, and only serves to terrify her further, but she canât focus on what Peggy and Nick had taught her in her adolescence when the threat of abductions became greater.
After a couple sweeps of the cell-like room, she notices a flash of red in the depths of the shadows, and once she sees it move, the terror overwhelms her entirely. Tugging at the shackles keeping her immobile, she canât tear her gaze away from the red flash even as it lurks in the shadows, slowly edging closer even as she kicks out at it. But her anxious anger falls short when she sees a girl her age looming over her prone body, a red tinge hazing over piercing green eyes.
The girl reaches out to her, checking out Sharonâs reddening wrists, the barest hints of pity and resigned despair seeping through an otherwise neutral expression. Her movements are ghostlike in their silence, even though the room echoes every breath Sharon takes itâs almost as though the redhead takes none at all, eyeing her clothes and behaviour with curiosity and disdain intertwined. Just as she goes to say something, the redheadâs head shakes almost imperceptibly in the direction of a shadow infested camera, recording every movement and probably laughing at her situation.
Instead she huffs angrily, scowling at the camera and letting her head hit the metal headboard. She doesnât know what it is about the girl, but she feels somewhat safe around her, and so when she doesnât react to the person who enters the room, Sharon remains wary but doesnât lash out. That is, until the brunette lady pulls out a syringe with a red liquid thatâs the same hue as the colour threatening to consume the redheadâs piercing green eyes.
Then itâs like sheâs been possessed by a demon, kicking out and contorting so that she can escape her shackles and get the hell out of there. But this woman is very clearly no ordinary scientist, because she injects the vial with a marksmanâs accuracy, avoiding every single flailing limb Sharon has to offer. And soon her whole world goes fuzzy as a red haze takes her under, the red haired girlâs silent apologies being the last thing she sees.
Waking up is a horrible feeling, like all of her worst hangovers combined into a single torturous moment, and this time Sharon doesnât care about harming herself when she reacts, kicking and screaming even as the girl makes her presence known. In fact, her fury only increases tenfold, knowing that she was cognisant enough to have tried to do something. Instead, Sharonâs world is still tainted with a sea of crimson hues, the girlâs hair the most vibrant.
The room Sharonâs in is different to before, still a dingy cell with shackles keeping her stuck on the bed, but unlike before, there arenât any cameras, Sharon craning her head uncomfortably as she scans her surroundings. She watches as the girl edges closer to her, hesitating at the last second right by her bedside, and Sharon has had enough of being the nice captive.
âWhere am I? And who the fuck are you?â
âThe Red Room.â The girl says, her words uncertain, her thick Eastern European accent curling around every syllable. âYou may call me Natalia, Sharon Carter.â
âOh wonderful. Why was I abducted this time? Sticking it to Aunt Peg? Because let me tell you sheâs not even involved in SHIELD anymore, and I for one am not joining the family legacy.â
âI do not know, I have not been given that information. I am here as a guide to induct you into the Red Room to join the widows. You will have a weekâs worth of treatments to ensure your compliance before your training begins.â
âTheyâll find me.â Sharon says, scowling at the girl and her robotic words. âI wonât turn into whatever the hell theyâve brainwashed you to be.â
âI hope they do. But hope is a dangerous thing to possess Sharon Carter, it is the first thing they try to break in you. For now, rest. You have a long week ahead of you.â
The tone Natalia takes is one of fear and resignation, and itâs one that terrifies Sharon down to her core. She turns to face the wall, squeezing her eyes shut and resting her head on her forearm, praying that her mom got her microchipped as a child like Aunt Peggy had joked about. Natalia lets out a sigh from her perch at the side of her bed, and as Sharon feigns sleep, the other girl runs her fingers through the blondeâs knotted hair, clumsily whispering a Russian lullaby to try and lull her to sleep.
It works, and perhaps that is the scariest thing about this place.
After four days conscious in the Red Room, thereâs chaos going on outside. Chaos that indicates a SHIELD rescue mission, contrary to the quickly fading hope that she attributes, in part, to the red chemical solution coursing through her veins. The vents start pumping out a powder in the same shade as the liquid, and Sharon watches Natalia morph into a statuesque robot version of herself.
Her posture is more perfect than usual, she stands to attention in the far corner of the room, ready to attack whoever walks through the door to Sharonâs cell. A manâs voice filters through the intercom, the first male sheâs encountered since being here, and while there is a voice in the back of her mind that demands she listen to him, the serum hasnât run its course yet. And so she can ignore his demands that they prepare for war, dislocating her thumbs just like Natalia had taught her a couple days prior.
She stays on the bed as she sets her thumbs back into their sockets, biting down through her lip; she doesnât register in the redheadâs mind as a threat, eyeing the door and praying that someone has found a cure in this godforsaken place. The door is kicked in minutes later, Uncle Nick storming through the door with her aunt and her mom following up behind him. But in a move she hadnât expected, Natalia doesnât do anything to them, instead she holds a gun to Sharonâs head.
When her family raise their weapons at the girl, their fingers dangerously close to pulling the trigger, she shouts at them to stop, the red tinge covering her eyes again as her pulse rises.
âSheâs been drugged with mind control serum, just like the other girls! Donât hurt her, please, it isnât as strong on her, I can get through to her.â
âLike hell Iâm gonna let her kill my niece.â Uncle Nick says, his voice not wavering even as he glared at the redhead who was roughly Sharonâs age.
âShe wonât. Here look. Natalia, itâs Sharon, Sharon Carter. Do you remember the song you sang me on my first day? You told me hope was the first thing they break in you, but look. My family is here. They want to help, can you put the gun down for me?â
âCompliance is rewarded.â She says, her voice devoid of any tone.
âYes it is, but who would you want to comply with? Me or that man? He wants you to kill me, I thought you didnât want any more red in your ledger. Please Natalia. Put it down.â
Slowly the girl lowers her weapon, the red haze slowly giving way to specs of her natural eye colour. Sharon throws the gun to one side, pulling the redhead into a supernaturally tight hug that would have harmed her family had she tried it with any of them. Looking back at the crowd surrounding them, she nods at her Uncle and allows him to inject Natalia with a sedative until the cure could be administered.
As she slumps into Sharonâs awaiting arms, the blonde holds her close, hefting her into a bridal carry as sheâs led through corridors where she was always kept unconscious to the helicarrier. She ignores the curious whispers of the field agents who had been brought on the mission with them, and nimbly steps around the bodies littering the floor of agents and widows alike. When the girl has been deposited on the stretcher waiting for her, Sharon turns her attention to her family, smiling at all of them.
âHow many did you manage to subdue?â
âAt least thirty trained widows, and another twenty children who were being primed for it. What happened to you Sharon?â Peggy asks, tugging her niece into her arms before passing the blonde over to her mother.
âThey wanted to make me one of the widows, a fuck you to SHIELD kind of thing. Natalia was my guide to all of this, she was compliant so they didnât top up her mind control serum as much. I had about three more days left of doses, or else I wouldâve been just like Nat was.â
âNat is it?â Her mother teases, guiding her onto the helicarrier, the other agents carrying in the ones they subdued.
âYeah sheâs, sheâs the one who helped me keep my hope in there. Please tell me you got something from there, a cure, a sample, hell the psychoâs whole network wouldnât go amiss.â
âWe got it kiddo, go look after your lady friend.â Fury says, clapping his hand onto her shoulder before leaving her alone with Natalia and the medics.
When Natalia comes to, in a bed far more luxurious than anything the Red Room afforded them, the first thing she notices is that for once in her life, she hadnât woken up handcuffed. Instead, she awakens to see Sharon Carterâs soft grin and the girlâs hand resting on her knee. The next thing she notices is that, for once in her life, the red hue that had followed her everywhere she looked was no more.
âHey sleepyhead, how are you feeling?â
âStrange. Where am I?â
âAn off the books SHIELD medical facility owned by Uncle Nick. SHIELD dismantled the Red Room, Hydra too, but they needed to keep you here while the cure ran its course.â
âCure? You mean?â Natalia stops herself, not wanting to let hope be her downfall.
âExactly what you think. Youâve got the same enhancements, but no chemical mind control. Youâre a free woman, Natalia no-last-name.â
âBut what about you? Your eyes are still-â her hands fly up to Sharonâs face, cupping her cheek and running her thumb over her cheekbones.
âThey didn't want to risk the cure on me, seeing as I didnât finish my course. Their best scientists are working on a cure now but itâll take a while. So for now, youâre stuck staring at these awful red eyes.â
âTheyâre beautiful. Just like you, Sharon Carter.â
Sharonâs cheeks turn bright red and she turns to look away, only managing to fall even further into Nataliaâs touch. The girls sit in silence, staring at one another while Natalia gets used to the bed, fidgeting as she gets used to the luxury of a standard medical bed.
âSo what are you going to do now?â Sharon asks.
âI was thinking of working for the good guys, if that is okay with you.â
âOf course it is. We can talk to Uncle Nick later, now scooch over.â
âScooch?â The redhead repeats, mouthing the word to get used to it.
âOh, sorry. Move over, only if you want to of course, I just thought it would be nice to lay in bed toge-â
âYes.â Natalia interrupts, no shame in her eagerness. âPlease.â
She shuffles to one side, mindful of the wires attaching her to too many machines, and Sharon carefully climbs up and settles down beside her, making herself as small as possible to give Natalia space should she need it. Resting her head against the pillows, Natalia stretches her arm out and smiles when Sharon rests her head on it, almost purring when she starts to play with the blondeâs hair.
the only thing I can say about the new white suit for black widow is that it must be a confirmation of Sharon and Nat dating, Nat is clearly borrowing her girlfriendâs suit because she was staying the night and suddenly aliens invaded or something and she had nothing of her own to wear, meaning that Sharon is next to her in an identical white suit and they donât hear the end of it for weeks