Beneath the wreckage (Natasha Romanoff X reader)

Still Your Talia

Yelena studied Arina as she moved about the room gathering supplies. Light brown hair; blue eyes; 5'5", maybe 5'6"; thin, muscular build; and she moved like a graceful personification of death- her steps were elegant, but her moves were deadly.

Arina, on the other hand, was focused on the task at hand. She didn't pay Yelena much mind. Even if Yelena tried to harm her, which Arina knew she wouldn't, Arina was always the better fighter of the two. Yelena had yet to remember that, though.

Natasha was still passed out, except now she was lying flat on an old metal operating table. Arina had already hooked her up to an IV and dosed her with anesthesia. She had lost a lot of blood, but luckily, Arina and Natasha's blood was compatible.

Arina drew a pint of her own blood and ran it through a small, portable filter that she had designed herself. The blood ran straight into Natasha's veins after that, and Arina didn't miss the look of disgust on Yelena's face.

"Please do not throw up or pass out in here. If you get queasy from this kind of stuff, then leave, because I'm about to cut your sister's abdomen open."

"I'm not leaving you alone with my unconscious sister, I don't even know you."

Arina only quirked an eyebrow at that and said, "Fine, but put on a mask, gown, and gloves. This isn't exactly a sterile environment, but anything helps."

Yelena did as instructed and returned to her place at the side of the room. Arina cut away Natasha's shirt, leaving her clad in a bra. She then put on a mask, gown, and gloves like Yelena and returned to Natasha's side.

Arina disinfected Natasha's stomach-all of the tools had been disinfected while waiting for the relatively weak anesthesia to kick in-and then picked up the scalpel. She took a deep breath and made a small incision across the wound so she'd have more room to work. She picked up the forceps and quickly pulled out the bullet. She repaired the internal damage and stitched up the incision.

Arina looked up for the first time in over forty minutes and saw Yelena's face, which prompted a loud laugh from the brunette. Yelena was ghostly pale with wide eyes, and she looked like she was about to be sick.

"I thought you said you'd be fine," Arina teased.

"Yeah, well, that was before you sliced open a human body."

"Fair point." Arina wrapped the incision in gauze and did a quick check of Natasha's vitals.

Yelena and Arina took off their sterile coverings and Arina said, "I'll be back in a little bit. You can stay in here with her or not, it's up to you. She should wake up within the hour." Yelena nodded but said nothing as she pulled up a chair and sat down next to Natasha.

Arina left the medical room and made her way to her quarters. The bunker was fairly large: a kitchen, two real bedrooms, additional bunkhouse-style sleeping quarters, two bathrooms, an area with a couple of old couches, and even a dining table. Of course, it also had a weapons room, security room, and a lab, because it was an old bunker from some deadbeat spy organization that collapsed in the 70s.

Arina went to the bathroom closest to her bedroom. Once inside, she shut the door and leaned over the sink. She turned on the cold water (the bunker didn't have hot water) and splashed it on her face. She stared at her reflection in the old, cracked mirror, and she didn't recognize the woman looking back at her. She closed her eyes and sighed, trying to keep herself calm.

Even though Natasha hadn't woken up yet, this was the first time Arina had seen her since they were seventeen. A million memories came flooding back the moment she laid her eyes on the redheaded assassin. The first time they met, the first time they sparred, the first time they danced, and the last time they kissed.