Fighting The Past - Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Eight

⚠️ T.W - Self-Harm/Suicide ⚠️ 

The days following the confrontation with Natalia began to blur into one another. Nobody else had come to the cabin since. Not that Y/N had expected them to, no they hardly knew Y/N and there was no chance any of them wouldn't side with Natalia after what had happened. So Y/N had taken to spending their days, sitting out on the steps of the cabin, drinking through the stash of alcohol they had found hidden in the back of a cupboard in the small kitchen, until they became completely numb and passed out. 

It wasn't any different today as Y/N dragged themselves off the couch, picking up the half drunk bottle of whiskey from the table where they'd put it before collapsing on the couch to sleep late last night. The sun was starting to rise as Y/N lowered themselves down onto the steps out front, their eyes scanning the area, no changes and no obvious threats to be concerned about. 

Y/N unscrewed the lid on the bottle and took a long swig, letting the alcohol burn their throat as they drank. Wiping their mouth, they set the bottle down beside them. They had tried multiple times to step past this point, but each time they got hauled backwards by Wanda's magic. Y/N wondered how long they intended of keeping them trapped here, maybe this was it, this was going to be their prison now. 

Pushing Nat away had broken Y/N inside, but they'd been so angry and disappointed at the way Natalia had so clearly doubted them, doubted that they had been trying to do something to protect her, not hurt her. It had been such a mistake to allow themselves to think for just one moment that they could have been together, to be so foolish as to think that their past wouldn't screw everything up monumentally. 

Y/N reached into the pocket on their jeans and pulled out the polaroid photo. Staring at it, Y/N felt like it was the world's way of mocking them, a reminder that at one point they had been so happy but they were never going to be allowed to feel that way again. Holding the photo in one hand, Y/N clicked their fingers on the other and a small flame danced across the top of their index finger. 

Bringing their finger closer, Y/N watched as the flame caught the corner of the photo. Within a few seconds the whole photo was burning. Y/N watched as the wind carried away the glowing pieces of ash. All that was left of the photo was a black smudge of the tip of their fingers. 

Life had been one loss after another for Y/N, they should have been used to it by now. Drinking more of the whiskey, Y/N thought about everything that had brought them to this moment. Was there really any point in trying? How could they possibly be anything more than the monster they were created to be? 

Slowly standing from the steps, Y/N made their way back inside the cabin. They hadn't felt this hopeless and hollow since the days following their capture by the Red Room in Budapest, when they had been subjected to days of endless torture and interrogations. They couldn't bare being dragged back down into that dark spiral again. 

Y/N looked around the small space inside, their eyes stopping on the knife block that sat on top of the counter in the kitchen. With the bottle of whiskey still in hand, Y/N grabbed a knife, the polished metal catching in the sunlight that filtered in through the cabin windows. 

Sinking down onto the floor, their back pressed against the kitchen cupboard, Y/N weighed the knife in their hand before drinking deeply from the bottle of whiskey. Once the bottle was empty, Y/N let it fall to the floor, not even noticing as it shattered, the glass scattering across the wooden floor. Taking the knife, Y/N looked at the bare skin of their arm, they looked at the rune that was trapping them here. The edge of the knife bit into their skin as they dragged it across their arm, going through the centre of the rune, blood seeped from the cut and ran down to Y/N's fingers.