! SECOND MAIN STORY !
Natasha RomanoffxOC
Avengers: Assemble - ✅
Captain America: The Winter Soldier - 🕐
Avengers: Age of Ultron - ⛔
Captain America: Civil War - ⛔
Black Widow - ⛔
Avengers: Infinity War - ⛔
Avengers: Endgame - ⛔
The Falcon and the...
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"It kind of feels personal"
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Natasha parked outside of the hospital and rushed inside, her body nearly colliding with Jaime's, who looked completely out of it, deep in thought. Jaime and Steve stood together, watching as doctors attended to Fury's body.
Natasha stood by Jaime, tears filling her eyes as she stared at Nick's body on the table behind the glass. Jaime gently placed her arm over Natasha's shoulder, pulling her against her body and giving her shoulder a small squeeze. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough for the redhead to know that Jaime was there for her.
"Is he gonna make it?" Natasha questioned, looking at the doctors working on Nick.
"I don't know." Steve answered honestly.
"Tell me about the shooter." Natasha said, leaning more into Jaime gulping down her tears.
"He's fast. Strong. Had a metal arm," Steve listed, and Natasha immediately looked up at Jaime. The former assassin looked down at the redhead, nodding in confirmation.
A shaky breath escaped Natasha's mouth as Jaime gently brushed her hand up and down the redhead's arm.
"Ballistics?" The red head requested as Maria went to stand on her other side.
"Three slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable," Maria replied.
"Soviet-made," Natasha and Jaime mumbled at the same time.
"Yeah," Maria nodded, looking at the two, confused by their shared knowledge.
Suddenly he atmosphere in the room grew more tense as doctors swarmed around the table where Fury lay. Their voices echoed loudly through the glass, urgently requesting a defibrillator. Jaime and Natasha held their breath, their eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them.
"I want you to charge him at 100." the doctor's voice cut through the tension, poised to administer the shock.
"Don't do this to me, Nick," Natasha whispered, her voice heavy with emotion, leaning her head on Jaime's chest. Jaime kissed her head tenderly, offering what comfort she could in the moment of uncertainty.
"Stand back." the doctor's voice cut through the urgency. "Three, two, one, clear." he counted before administering the shock.
"Pulse?" he inquired, a hint of desperation in his tone. "No pulse." another voice confirmed.
"Okay, 200. Please." the doctor ordered, the gravity of the situation palpable in the room.
"Stand back!" he warned once again. "Three, two, one, clear!"
"Get me epinephrine!" he ordered when the shocks failed to yield results.
"Pulse?" he pressed once more, the tension thick in the air.
