𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗡 | 𝗡. 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗙𝗙

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𝐆𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Truth's phone started ringing on the first hour of their journey to Poland.

She'd already contacted her uncle, informing him of their success in obtaining and delivering the implant to S.H.I.E.L.D. Their mission was officially over, as he had given his seal of approval with an obscure comment of wishing them safe travels, aware that this would be their last point of contact for a few days. Truth would've called instead of texted to better reassure him, only she didn't want to worry him unnecessarily with her injured voice.

It wasn't so bad. By the time she and Natasha had arrived to base, the lines on both her neck and wrists had disappeared almost completely. There was no bruising, which was a good sign, though Truth had developed an uncomfortable cough, which only made the pain in her throat worse, and was sporting a slight headache from the strenuous use of her telekinesis that night.

Natasha had quickly turned into an efficient caretaker, though. She had disappeared soon after their arrival without a word, only to return minutes later to their meeting room where Truth sat, drained, speaking with two other high-ranking agents as they discussed the fate of the implant. Natasha had handed an ice pack to her wordlessly, and Truth had accepted it, surprised and touched at her thoughtfulness, smiling tiredly at her in thanks.

Then, as they went to pick up their rented vehicle from a company Truth had worked with in the past, Natasha had hopped into the drivers seat, giving Truth a look that dared her to complain.

Truth had only smirked as she went to walk around to the passenger side.

"My knight in shining armor," she'd joked as she settled into her seat.

"You're welcome," Natasha had replied as she started up the car. "What would you do without me?"

Truth had rolled her eyes. 

"Suck it up and drive, probably," she replied, lips tilted up in amusement, and Natasha had laughed.

Truth had taken off her sneakers—having changed out of her dress into some comfy sweats and a large shirt in Berlin—and put her feet up on the dashboard, leaning back in her seat with her eyes closed, ice pack resting on her neck. 

Natasha had also taken the time to change out of her suit, ditching the wig to free her red curls, while sporting a thin black jacket atop a casual shirt and jeans. She'd managed to finish the mission with little injury on her part, giving her the time to focus on Truth's well being.

The ride had been silent from then on, Natasha letting the other woman rest before the next leg of their journey. And, even though she kept reminding herself that Truth had also left their mission relatively unharmed, the sight of her in any kind of discomfort worried her to the point that every few minutes she'd have to take her eyes off the road, noting her breathing, making sure she still had some ice despite the condensation collecting around her neck, soaking her neckline.