Converto - Marvel Studios [8]

thirty-eight.

The hallways of Avengers tower were quiet, and not the normal kind of quiet they had been for the past 5 years. It was as if the walls could sense that something was missing, a part of the compound gone never to return. It was as if the walls could sense Natasha wasn't here anymore. The sunlight didn't quite bounce through the large windows as it once did, the light falling flat against surfaces like it could detect the shadow of darkness that was silently battling against it to claim this place.

My feet were nailed into the ground as I stood outside of the door that led into Natasha's room, my hand hovering over the door handle as I debated whether or not I should go in. All that stood between me and all of Natasha's things was a plank of wood. A measly plank of wood that I couldn't bring myself to remove, it being the only barrier between me and a room full of pain. No one had dared to go into the room, scared that their presence would displace Natasha's. We had been too scared to go in. I had been too scared to go in.

I let out a long breath before placing my thumb on the small pad of glass, the light changing from red to green to indicate that the door had been unlocked. It had been the same at the compound, both of our passwords and thumbprints being shared between our rooms, just in case we needed in in the middle of the night. It wasn't uncommon for Natasha to crawl into my bed in the early hours of the morning when we were in Avengers Tower. Maybe it was because we both slept better when someone else was in the room, giving us someone to breath along with, much like how we spent the first 16 years of our lives crammed in a room with over thirty young girls.

The lock twisted as I pushed the door open, the hinges creaking as I let out a breath that had got caught halfway in my throat. My socked feet sunk into the carpet as I took a step into the room, my legs taking me in slowly as the door fell to a close with a soft click that reverberated through my whole body. The shutters were pulled all the way open as the daylight flooded into the room to fill up the empty space, a ray of sun bouncing off of the mirror at the vanity as it reflected a ray of colour onto the wall behind me. I looked around slowly, wanting to remember every single detail about how Natasha had left the room, because it wasn't hers anymore.

There was a glass of water sitting on the nightstand by the bed, a print of where her lips had touched the rim imprinted and frozen in time. Make up wipes were thrown over the vanity, stained with beige, red and black from when she was bored with whatever was painted onto her face. The room showed signs of life, as if someone would be back in here in 12 hours to brush their teeth and crawl into bed.

It showed signs of life that were no longer there.

I didn't know what to do, feeling so alien in a space that was so familiar. Jewellery was scattered over the top of the dresser, rings and necklaces a tangled mess like she had thrown them up there one night rather than having put them away. I walked over, to the closest, pulling open the doors and looking at all of her clothes that hung from the rail. I reached out slowly, my fingers brushing them as the swayed back and forth from the contact. My hand grabbed onto a cashmere cardigan, pulling it off of its hanger as I slipped it out from the organised row of clothes. It was a charcoal grey, something I had seen Nat wear countless times, the buttons a colour to match the threads.

I looked down at it in my hands for a moment, not doing anything as I felt the fabric between my fingers. A sigh escaped my mouth as I pulled the cardigan over my head, slipping my arms through the soft sleeves as it rested against my body, the scent of Natasha engulfing me wholeheartedly. I wrapped my arms around myself, taking in a deep breath as I stood there in silence, willing my eyes not to cry. I don't think I had anymore tears left to cry, having spent them all already.

It was like almost like I was hugging her. Almost.

I tilted my head down, looking at the mess of shoes that were strewn on the bottom of the closest, my arms dropping at the sight of a pair of black satin heels I thought I had lost years ago in the move. "These are mine" I said aloud as I knelt down, picking up the back of the heels with my two fingers as they dangled from my hand. Natasha had a thing for going through my closest when I was out of town, I'm positive Steve had let her into the room a few times but just wouldn't admit it to me. I lifted them up, staring at them as I tried to remember why Natasha would have had to borrow these in the first place, my brain coming up short with an explanation.

I looked back down at the pile of shoes, quickly throwing the ones in my hand back in there with a clunk. It was bad enough I had moved the cardigan I was wearing from it's place, the room losing Natasha more and more as I strode through it. I quickly closed the closet doors, shutting my eyes and squeezing them tightly as I set my hands on the cold wood of the doors, drawing in a few deep breaths to console myself. I turned around as I dropped my hands, leaning against the closet door as I stared around the room once again, taking in a small details.

There was something about her neatly made bed that drew me towards it, my feet carrying me over as my fingers running along the bedsheets. I walked around the bed towards the nightstand at the side of the bed she would sleep on, the glass of water sitting atop a coaster. I pulled the drawer open, my fingers wrapped around the brass knob that she had changed out herself to make the room feel less like a hotel room. It seemed like everything had been thrown in here, hair ties, a chapstick, a small hand pistol and a granola bar that looked like it had seen better days. I grabbed the gun, the revolving chamber for 6 bullets being full and ready to shoot. My hands spun the camber as it cocked into gear, the loaded weapon feeling like a weight in my hand as I stood there in the quiet room.

It was a pretty old gun, the dark wooden handle being held together with golden screws to match the shining metal of the barrel and chamber. It wasn't surprising to find a gun so close to Natasha's bed, she probably slept better at night knowing it was there if she needed it. I probably would have done the same if I was here by myself, but when Captain America is asleep next to you, that's enough security for anyone. I looked down at my hand, the metal arch of the gun resting smoothly against the heel of my hand, the slightest of movements meaning my finger would be resisting against the trigger, the tiniest movements being able to send a bullet flying through the short barrel of the gun. It wouldn't take much. To rest the barrel against the side of my head.

My mind snapped into gear as I drew my finger away from the trigger where it had been getting dangerously close to. My fingers moved swiftly as I removed all the bullets that were resting in the chamber, waiting to be used at any moment. One by one they clinked into my palm until the gun was nothing but a harmless shell of the dangerous weapon it once was. I threw the gun onto the bed, the heavy object landing with a small thud as I stared down at the bullets that were lying in my hand. I tilted my hand down as I let them fall to the floor, each hitting the carpet with a small noise as I watched them bounce before resting around my feet.

I didn't stand there for a moment more as I stepped over the fallen bullets that sat in the clean carpet, carrying myself towards the door in a few strides. I pulled open the heavy door as my feet made contact with the cold marble floors of the hallway, letting the door fall close behind my back.

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A/N: I AM STILL ALIVE I PROMISE!!!