❝ your allies will die or go mad. you'll never know whom to trust. you'll never have a normal relationship. and if you do find love, as impossible as it is, you must remember one rule. the most important rule: never have kids. NEVER. ❞ - n.r.
COVERS...
"Alright, what do you know?!" Agent Hill snaps from behind Natasha as they both stare at the young-looking girl through the one-way window.
"Frankly?"
The women cock their heads to look darkly at the bald man.
He gives a stiff, angry shrug, "Nothing. We know nothing. We were forced to remove her mask when she wouldn't do it herself. Still, the kid won't speak, not even when a few agents tried to find some means to motivate her by," Sitwell mumbles that last part as he turns to look at a computer screen with a few other agents hovering around him.
Natasha's eyes narrow ever so slightly.
"Motivation," she repeats in a raspy tone, "You mean you tortured her?"
Sitwell scoffs, "We didn't torture her, Romanoff, that's your expertise."
Both women glare at him before they turn rigidly back towards the glass.
"Muzzle," Hill suddenly corrects in a flat tone, her arms crossed over her chest.
"What?" Sitwell makes a confused face.
"It's a muzzle, Agent Sitwell, not a 'mask' or whatever you called it. It is literally in the shape of two hands, you think it's not designed to keep her silent?"
"How does it matter if it is or if it isn't?!" Sitwell asks irritatedly before mumbling, "She deserves that and worse."
That's likely true. They all know it. This little kid had a hand in assassinating the director of a government agency, not to mention the fact that he was also close friend of the two women standing in the room. However old the girl is, whoever she is, she's still very much a murderer. S.H.I.E.L.D. has heard rumors of her, of course, but there were never confirmed reports.
After all, not even Natasha Romanoff made a report of the red-headed girl she saw that day in Odessa. She still isn't quite sure why she didn't. The girl was the reason she and her target were nearly killed in the first place, though she did seem out of place when the shooting began. The girl deserved to be put down and yet this strange, confused feeling in the pit of Natasha's stomach stopped her from reporting the sighting. That feeling hasn't gone away, not since she stepped into the observation room and saw the redhead.
God, what is this?
Why does she feel like this?
She doesn't want it. Not just this particular emotion, no, no, she doesn't want to feel. It hurts. It hurts too much. There is so much for the woman to feel and, if she gives in, even just for a second, it could break her. She gets stupid when she feels, everyone does.
