Mind Games (Avengers Wrong Number Fugitive [Natasha Romanoff x teen])

16. Interrogation Gone Takis and Talking

A/N I started this before my trip to Copenhagen but I didn't have my laptop so finishing it now :) Anywho!!!

Am I sad that it's Nat's POV again? No.
Also... is it wrong I want y'all to say hi at the beginning when I post :) It makes me feel happy >o<

Natasha's POV

"Hi Augustine," I say as I walk in. She's been moved into an interrogation room, the same power dampening cuffs placed on her wrists. One on each, the other side connected to the table.

"August." She deadpans, huffing.

I smirk at her, a small little glare filling up her vision. "What about Pillow?"

She looks up, a mix of horror and worry lingering in her eyes. But she doesn't say anything so I continue.

"You know, that might be helping your case, Augustine-"

I'm cut off with an unexpected scream, changing the game real fast. "Call me that one more time, Natalia!"

Everything happens fast. 

Her breathing starts to get ragged and a breath escapes me. But her's keep getting shallower. It seems she's getting fed up over me using her full name. I've mixed between the two. Augustine, August, even Miller actually. She's never this worked up.

"Augustine Juliet Miller!" I shout. "Get ahold of yourself, you're in an interrogation! This isn't the time to be getting worked up! You're not ten!"

"SHUT UP!" She somehow gets out, followed by a heavy inhale. She's even worse off now. Trembling, breathing getting shorter and shorter. I'm not sure I actually see her inhale anymore between shaking uncontrollably and tears escaping when they can. 

Shit.

I kneel beside her and unclasp one of the cuffs. Before I can grasp it she brings it up to her hair, pulling at thick strands. "Ca-can't breathe," she mutters, and I squeeze my eyes for a second.

I lightly take her hand, bringing it away from her head. "Squeeze as hard as you need to, I'm so so sorry."

No matter the circumstances in any given situation, I'm always sorry. It doesn't mean that I'm going to accept that she's killed, that she's stolen, that she's a criminal... but if I was where she is at the moment, I'd hope everything I'd done would be forgotten. Because I would want to be hugged.

Her grip tightens. It's strong, I'll give her that.

"Follow my breathing okay? In... out... In... out." Exaggerated breaths leave me as our eyes connect. Her hand still connected to the table shakes, and I let myself silence anything telling me 'no.' 

When her other wrist is no longer chained she grasps onto me, hugging me as if I'll disappear. Her breathing picks up again, and I slow down my breaths even more so she can follow a steady heartbeat.

"Remember, in... out... Follow me, please." I'm careful not to call her anything. 

Finally, after a long while, she's feeling better, though she hasn't let go of me. 

As soon as August's panic attack subsides she starts crying, and as of now it hasn't stopped.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. It's okay, дорогая-" as I'm saying the pet name and sweet nothings, she flinches. I'm quick to assume it's the nickname but I'm not sure. As I'm too scared to say her name incase of unintentionally causing another scene, I stupidly start my next sentence with the nickname. 

"Дорогая..."

Another flinch.

I look down at her, her head now resting in my lap as I play with her hair. "We won't talk about it, don't worry. I understand and so I'm not questioning it. What language are you most comfortable speaking in?"