Breaking Free | Natasha x OC

Chapter Fourty-One

"You can only move on
if you accept that it's gone."
____

Natara heaved, hand braced against the wall as she waited for the contents of her stomach to empty.
It never did, instead leaving her in an in between space, with a knot so thick in her belly that she needed to get it out anyway she could. Yet it refused to let her be rid of it.

Tara sank to the floor, breaths hard and fast, anxiety lighting up her whole brain. She couldn't breath. She kept choking, kept crying.

A sharp pain spiked in her chest, making her gasp. Everything was spinning. She was going to faint.
Collapsing before that was possible, Natara shook as she went to the ground.

____

2 Hours Earlier

Natara chewed her lip and circled her thigh with her thumb.
She should do this. She needed to do this. It had been too long already and if she didn't do it now, it was likely that she never would.
"Gods."

The redhead ran her hand through her hair. She didn't look in the mirror much anymore. It was starting to grow out. She'd re-dye it at some point. Really, she would.
Or maybe... she should just let it grow out?

That was the easier option and lately, Natara was a sucker for easier options. She ignored the way this was giving her deja vu of particularly awful times.

She had been diagnosed with several things many years back. One being a depressive disorder... or a few, really.
She'd gone through the severe depression, had survived it getting so bad that they'd later diagnosed it as psychotic depression.
She'd experienced psychosis, had done the whole losing touch with reality.
Had survived it and had gotten better.

She'd done all of it, the mental health shit... the bad days, bad weeks. Gods, she'd done a lot back then.

But back then she'd had Alessia and- and she'd had Solomon. Now she had no one.
She was thousands of miles away from her wife and her old life. More than eight thousand miles away, to be exact.

And in truth, Natara didn't feel like that person anymore.
The person who'd had that life.

Now she felt like no one. Just doing what she needed to do to survive.
But Natara was beginning to wonder how much longer she could keep doing it. Surviving.

Living.

No, she needed to do this now. She was already in Thailand. She'd said she'd do this, so she would.

Shit.

____

"You've got to be kidding me," Natara criticized as she looked at the figurines on the front window. On special, no less. She was surprised they sold at all anymore.

The God of thunder was there in miniature plastic form, pretty blonde hair and hammer raised above his head.
Natara's mini plastic self was beside him, gun in one hand and the other on her hip.
She made a hot figurine, she'd admit.

She sometimes wondered how she got a similar amount of recognition compared to the original team. The six of them who'd fought during the battle of New York.
She'd only just gotten to New York back in 2012.
Either way, she'd never complained. It had gotten her put on lunchboxes.