The Widow's Daughter - A MCU Fanfiction

Chapter Three

NATASHA POV

As I made my way down the small town streets I could hear the screams of people from a half-mile away. I looked over at Steve to see his face blank- again. I looked forward and focused on making my way towards the shouting civilians

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Well, I could- but I was definitely surprised.

As I made my way into the center of the small town, my eyes caught sight of the masked widow. She was sprinting on the top of a building, carrying some sort of briefcase in her hand. I made eye contact with Clint, who motioned for me to go.

I didn't hesitate.

I sprinted towards the side of one of the buildings and started to climb my way up to the top. As I pulled myself onto the roof, I saw the widow standing above me. She was standing a few feet away, just watching me stand up. She lightly tilted her head for a brief moment before turning around and sprinting the other way.

I instantly began to run after her, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. That's when gunfire rug from across the square. I looked down to see a large, black car pulling to a stop below. The car opened its doors to allow about six men to come out, guns drawn. They all aimed their weapons at me and the widow and instantly started to shoot. I jumped down behind an air conditioner and held my breath, hoping that they would run out of ammo.

I glanced across the roof to see the widow sprawled out onto the ground. She was tightly clutching her upper leg as crimson blood poured out onto the gravel around her.

"No," I whispered as I crawled across the roof towards her. I unhooked my belt and wrapped it around her thigh.

"This is gonna hurt," I warned as I pulled the belt around her leg as tight as possible. She let out a deep cry and I threw my hand over her mouth.

"Shh, they'll hear you and come up here," I whispered, tying the belt. She was losing a lot of blood- and fast.

"I need to get you to the jet so we can patch this shot," I told her as she dug her hands into the gravel in pain. I took one of her hands in mine and squeezed it.

"I'm a widow too, let me help you," I said, trying to stop the bleeding. She froze at my words.

"vy mozhete mne pomoch'?" (You can help me?) she lightly asked, her still tightly holding mine.

"Da, ya poprobuyu," (Yes, I will try) I whispered back. I used my other hand to turn on my earpiece as I spoke.

"I got the girl, she's been shot. I'll bring her down, get the jet ready to go," I said, looking down at the girl's leg.

"I'm going to have to pick you up, please don't scream again," I asked, gently sliding my hands underneath her body. She nodded. I picked her up, feeling her body tense up in pain. I held her close to my body as I slowly and carefully made my way down the side of the building.

I carefully stepped down onto the ground, looking behind me to see the jets making its way towards us. I repositioned my hold on her and started running towards the plane. I saw Bucky through the glass windshield of the jet.

"Can you land it here? We have guys with guns on their way," I ask, my arms burning from carrying the girl.

"On it," he replied, lowering the plane towards us. Gunfire sounded around us as the men made their way around the building. The jet landed and the door opened right as I reached it, sprinting inside before we got shot.

The door shut behind us and I could feel gravity's tug as the jet rose into the sky. Panting, I gently laid the girl onto the floor and fell back in exhaustion. Everything around me was spinning and sounded as if I were underwater.

"Wanda? Can you help me patch her up?" I asked Wanda, sitting up. I looked at the girl's leg, which was still bleeding profusely. Wanda fell to the floor next to me, examining the leg.

"This looks pretty bad, but once we're back to the compound we can get it sewn up," she stated, sitting back against the wall. I nod, looking at the mask that covered the girl's face. I slowly reached towards it when her hand grabbed me by the wrist.

"Please- if I'm seen- he'll kill me," she pleaded, letting my hand go.

"Dreykov will never lay a hand on you again ok? I promise," I assure her, trying once again to take off her mask. This time she doesn't try to stop me as I gently pull the mask off her face.

But what I saw staring up at me wasn't a widow.

It was a ghost.