𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗡 | 𝗡. 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗙𝗙

»»» 𝔳𝔦.𝔦

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

𝐀𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧, 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐚

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Truth let Natasha take the shower first. 

The fact that she didn't even try to argue with her was a cause of concern.

They hadn't spoken much since the phone call. Once S.H.I.E.L.D. had arrived and collected Borba, who had been confirmed to make a fine recovery, Truth had laid claim to one of the extra SUVs parked on the street, courtesy of Michael, and started the drive from D.C. to Arlington, Virginia.

Natasha hadn't complained then, either. She had followed Truth's lead without comment, eyes glued to the passenger side window with little appreciation for the sights.

It had been better with the silence, however. Because, just as Natasha still fought to keep the memories out, Truth had also been reeling from the recent events.

The murder attempt wasn't anything but a nuisance—Truth had had a number of people try to assassinate her, people far more experienced than a lowly mafia member burning with revenge.

She had done well enough with her powers that she hadn't been too upset with the turn of events. Perhaps she could've found an alternative to binding and relocating Borba without using her telekinesis, as the migraine was quite the downside, but she'd managed. It also meant that a burnout was dangerously imminent, but she had enough adrenaline running through her for her to shoulder through it for just a bit longer.

She had even managed to reign in her inducement in time to help Natasha. With the urgency to get as much information out of Borba before he passed out from the pain and blood loss, she had increased it's intensity to make things move faster despite the risk. There had been a moment of her own panic when she had noticed Natasha's state, but the refusal to just sit and watch in fear of making the situation worse had been too strong to ignore.

Strong enough to make her snap out of it and withdraw the inducement bubbling across her skin.

It had to have been the fastest she'd ever managed to do that.

What really had her anxious, though, were the looming circumstances surrounding the events of that day. It was the combined knowledge of knowing there was something big Michael wasn't telling her, big enough that he wanted her to retreat to a safe house while she recovered.

It had made her speculate about this Russian woman Borba spoke about.

And she'd wondered if, maybe, Natasha knew anything about her.

Because, something about the situation had reminded the redhead of something—something bad enough to give her a panic attack.

And, despite Truth being the obvious target, she just couldn't get the thought of whether or not either of them were truly safe out of her head.

"Is this yours?" Natasha had asked, breaking the silence as she stared up at the two-story, very seemingly normal residence they'd parked in front of.