Gone by Ghosts (Natasha Romanoff x OC)

~2~ The Night Owl

Natasha's POV

United States, New York City 07/14/2009:

The first sunrays of the day fall through the halfway closed shutters directly on her face. She had watched the room change colors from the blue of the night to the beginning of a golden morning, while her left hand was playing with strands of her hair from above her head. But now that the sun was blinding her, she decided to just give up on her need to sleep.

Natasha sat up in the lower bed of a bunk bed in one of S.H.I.E.L.D's resting rooms, rubbing her wrist, then staring at it for a few seconds. It had almost been three months and she still woke up like that every time. She hated that she couldn't break that stupid habit. She was free and yet she acted like she still was in chains. Why? She couldn't figure it out. No matter how many nights she spent waking up from nightmares and no matter how many hours she thought about all the questions she had, in the end, she was left with a feeling of guilt so heavy it almost paralyzed her. She took out the watch from under her pillow and put it on. It was the first she bought herself."4:27".

With about two hours of sleep, she made her way to the "on-suite" bathroom, where she took off her T-shirt and underwear and got in the shower. The hot water wrapped her body. It felt like the kind of physical warmth that makes everyone feel less lonely and whether she liked it or not, it made her feel a little less lonely, too. She let it run over her tired, sore muscles for a while before actually washing.

A few minutes later she put on her uniform and checked her watch again. "4:52". Considering her options, she decided to go to the shooting booth and train there for a bit. Eventually, she got hungry and went to get some breakfast, but kept it small, since her appetite was very limited. Lost in her thoughts she sat in front of her green tea and porridge. The green of her tee made her wonder if someone might have checked for her. Someone who she hadn't seen in a decade or so. Someone with green eyes, who was free now for about three months. Natasha was losing hope that that would ever happen. She wasn't even sure if she was still alive, or if she wanted to see her. Maybe she hadn't forgiven her, that she couldn't protect her, or maybe she...A few other agents entered the cafeteria. Their chatter interrupted her spiraling thoughts. She looked at her watch and started to hurry with her breakfast. Practice didn't start before 6 am, but she wanted to warm up before the others would be there.

Natasha had already finished warming up ,like she had wanted to, when the first agents strolled into the gym at 6. Confused she checked her watch. Clint usually was the first after her to come in. He was late and it just felt wrong. Something was wrong.

Just then he entered the room. "Good morning, sleepy.", he greeted with a smirk.

"You too, Dopey.", she greeted back. For a second her memories flashed to her childhood but she just talked over it. "So, why were you late?"

Clint had just started to stretch and now looked up at her staggered, searching for the right words to tell her. "Well, you're not holding back today, are you?", he laughed.

Natasha couldn't help but smile. "How about we talk about that later? After we're done here?", he asked searching for a compromise that would give him more time to figure it out.

"I can't promise you that, but I can try.", she answered still smiling. He nodded and went to get some gloves.

He started to punch and kick the punching back, while Natasha was holding it in place for him. "How much did you sleep tonight?", he interrupted her concentration on his technique.

"Sorry, what?", she said a little confused.

"I was asking how much sleep you had tonight but I don't think I need to wait for your answer.", he repeated. He had stopped and looked at her worried.