All for a girl named Rose

Untitled Part 11

Rose blinked and looked around again, still only finding her mother in the room. Mother sounded so unnatural. 

"Where did the other two go? She asked and her mother turned around.

"Sam and Steve are out getting groceries and trying to decide on our next move." 

Rose hesitated before continuing  however she decided that she had nothing to loose.

"Are you really my mother?" She asked.

"Yes." Natasha responded.

"So, do you know who my father is?" Rose asked.

"Well, there's two possibilities." Natasha paused and turned back to her daughter. "The first is Dimitri Yosinov. He did something hydra saw as threatening so I was sent to take care of him. His genetic profile is the only one that comes up during paternity tests. However, more likely his genetic profile is a cover up for..." Natasha trailed off. "The man who is more likely to be your father. James Barnes."

Rose felt her heart skip. She knew James was a great man, when he was himself, free from Hydra's control.

However she ignored the feeling and the hope, excepting that she may never even see him again. Much less that he would actually want to take on the responsibility as a father or even want to be near her at all.

Rose wasted a good 20 minutes starting off into nothing before asking a question that had been burning into her skull. She hated asking questions, they made her sound like a helpless clueless child. However she hated not knowing even more.

"How did you even start to dissociate yourself from the Red Room?" She chewed the soft flesh of  the inside of her cheek.

"I did things they never allowed me too. I cut my hair, pierced my ears, painted my nails. Every small thing I had never been able to do I did. It was terrifying at first, I thought they would find me and punish me. In my nightmares they did, and I'd wake up screaming, realizing that it was all in my head. I realized that I couldn't be free until I stopped letting them consume my mind and I had to force myself to realize that what I did earlier, when I was under their control, wasn't me. It wasn't my choice to kill all those people and cause all of that pain. I was absolutely terrified at first but if you don't start how can you finish? So, where do you want to start." Rose hesitated before lightly touching the bun on her head.

"I want to cut my hair."

"Alright, let's do it. I don't think we have scissors, but we do have an abundance of knives." Natasha said turning around and digging through a bag.

"Are we doing it right now?" Rose asked.

"Yes, the sooner you start the sooner you finish." Natasha walked to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror and motioned for Rose to stand in front of her. 

Rose walked into the bathroom but didn't stand in front of the trained assassin holding a knife.

"Do you trust me not to slit your throat?" Natasha asked.

"I wouldn't mind if you did." Rose only half joked.

"Yes, you would. You were trained to survive." Natasha looked her dead in the eyes.

"I was trained to kill." Rose responded equally as serious as her mother.

"No, you're forgetting the most important part of your training. To survive and adapt, no matter the situation. I know they trained you with the purpose of being the best spy they could train or being an expendable weapon. But you were taught so much more, and your life is the only thing that is important to you."

They both stared at each other, waiting for the other to start talking.

"So, do you trust me?" Natasha asked again.

"No." Rose responded not breaking eye contact.

"But are you going to let me do it anyway?" 

"Yes." Rose moved to stand in front of Natasha.

"Good, that's a start." Natasha took the bun out snd brushed Rose's hair out. She pulled the auburn red waves into one handful. "How short?" She asked.

"Just touching my shoulder." Rose responded confidently.

Natasha split the hair into two even sections, pulled one tight, and slid the sharp knife through the hair until all of the strands bounced up, brushing her shoulders. She did the same thing with the other handful. 

"Go wash your hair." Natasha's told her before leaving the bathroom to give her privacy. Rose decided the best way to get rid of the three foot clumps of hair in the sink was to flush it down the toilet. So that's what she did. She turned on the shower scalding hot, the physical pain would help lessen her worries, fear, and ever longing sense of helplessness.

Though she had just taken a shower the right before she still had clump of dirt and blood stuck to her skin. She scrubbed at a lump of matted hair and dried blood until it started to bleed again.  In all she counted 14 wounds of various sizes that had been stitched up with varying amounts of stitches. 8 bruises at least three fingers wide and long, including the awful bruise from the injection in her neck.

She stepped out and roughly dried herself off with the scratchy motel towel. At least two of her stitched wounds had bled enough to run. Her usually wavy hair had curled after loosing all of the weight. She braced her arms on the counter and leaned forward to look at herself in the mirror. 

She studied het face looking for traces of her parents. She had the same face shape, nose, and obviously hair as her mom. But the steel blue of her eyes and the dip in the center of her chin reminded her of James. 

Rose glanced over at the dog tags hanging on the towel rack and sighed. She had decided to not even consider him a fatherly option. Less hope set lower expectations lower expectations led to less disappointment. That's what she had trained herself to do, less disappointment less emotional weight. That was the last thing she needed.

She wasn't sure how long she stood staring at herself in the mirror, relishing the privilege to do so. But when she heard the motel room door open and the familiar voices of Steve and Sam, she rushed getting dressed. Forgetting to tuck the dog tags in. If she were in the Red Room they would have taken them and punished her. But she wasn't in the Red Room and she wouldn't be punished and no one was going to take James's dog tags away. Though partially terrified she left  them out of her shirt.

The first thing she saw was Steve and Natasha taking together, looking at each other in that way. The way young couples who have just been engaged look at each other, the way old couples who have been together for an eternity look at each other.

Rose glanced at them than to Sam and back to them. Sam did the same. 

"Natasha, Steve, you two look like you're together, or at least in love with each other."