𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗡 | 𝗡. 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗙𝗙

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦

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That same night, Natasha walked into the training room.

This time, she wasn't greeted by a knife, but the scene she'd walked in on didn't exactly put her at ease.

Because, laying on the mats they had fought on earlier, was Truth. Throwing knives again, yes, but at herself.

Natasha took a sharp breath as the dark-haired assassin tossed a two-inch blade up into the air and watched as it fell back down, point aimed straight at the middle of her stomach. But, last minute, when Natasha thought that maybe she'd have to see the death of yet someone else she was beginning to see as more than just a rival, a mistake she had made with too many of the other girls she'd been forced to kill, Truth made a gesture with her hand and the knife flew back up into the air without a single touch.

Truth knew she had messed up the second she felt the fear from the other woman, fear so powerful that Truth had almost taken her eyes off the knife she had been practicing with. In the several hours since she'd met Natasha, Truth had never felt a single inkling of her mind until now. Stunned, Truth quickly stopped herself before she could look further into the origin of the redhead's fear, allowing Natasha the time to throw up her usual mental walls and regain her composure.

Truth knew trauma when she felt it, and she had never expected Natasha Romanoff, a graduate of the Red Room, to be free of it. Though Truth had never felt the effects of those walls first-hand, Natasha wasn't the first KGB assassin she'd known.

She'd been caught up in her thoughts again. Even with their encounter the previous night, Truth was just so used to being alone at this time that she didn't think anything of what she was doing. She had complete trust in her abilities to do what she just did and feel completely safe, but she wouldn't even have done that in front of her brother.

Using her telekinesis, she picked up the other knives she had discarded around her and directed them, slowly, to their places on the rack. Natasha watched, her body tense, and Truth feared that she had ruined something that had hardly began.

"I..." Natasha licked her lips, her voice hoarse. "I didn't know you could do that."

Standing, feeling uncomfortable at the idea of practicing with her abilities now, Truth hid her hands in the thin pockets of her leggings.

"Not many people do."

Natasha closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to control her racing heart. Truth waited patiently, standing completely still until the other woman raised her head, her green eyes hiding a history of horrors, and spoke again.

"Do you come here every night to train?"

Truth shrugged.

"Not always to train. And there are a few other places I like to go to, depending on my mood."

Natasha wanted to hear more about these other places, but Truth was already saying something else.