Chapter IV

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"Even if you are on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there."
Will Rogers

DATE: JUNE 2ND

Natasha is probably the best human I've met, since my mother. She doesn't try and act like my family, more like a friend, yet I know I can tell her anything.

She made me a superhero, a career path I hadn't really given much thought. But now, I am Shadow, and it gives me the freedom I never had. If only I could tell people, that the amazing partner of Black Widow, is Emilia Brookston. Yes, that's right, the daughter of the Ukrainian arms dealer. Natasha always knows what to do.

Until I made the mistake of throwing up in the toilet, when I tried to approach a guy who was running an ice cream stall. I find it terrifying to speak to anybody I don't know. Natasha knows I am socially awkward, but according to her, it's getting out of hand. I can't even go out in the streets, with being coaxed out of my bedroom, for a good half an hour.

So when she marches into my bedroom, with a stern look on her face, I know that I'm in for it.

"Shades," she snaps. "This is the third time this week you've refused to go to the supermarket. I come home from work, and what do I have for dinner? Out of date ramen."

I lower my head, not wanting to meet her gaze. "Sorry," I squeak, "I'm just-"

"Scared? As prior to usual?" She sighs with annoyance, and sits down on my bed. "I know that you've got social awkwardness Em, but this is actually becoming a serious problem. You have to talk to people in life, all the time! You can't just live off the excuse that you have a condition, because it won't get you anywhere."

I continue to look down, afraid of what she'll do.

"And I can't send you to a therapist because we don't have enough damn money..." She pinches the bridge of her nose, as I finally look up at her. "I don't know what to do, Shades." She finishes. She gets up, and walks around my small room.

I stay as silent as ever.

"How are you going to talk to people your age?" Natasha looks as if she's about to go on, when she stops. She snaps her fingers, and strides out of her room, murmuring, "Now, there's an idea,"

I stand up, and follow her, as she grabs her phone off her extremely cluttered desk. She quickly dials a number, and as I try to ask what she's doing, she holds up her index finger, as a gesture meaning, "shush."
Natasha waits for about seven seconds, before someone picks up.

"Romanoff?" Comes a sleepy voice, on the other end of the line. It's one I haven't heard before.

"Roy!" Natasha says cheerfully.

"What are you doing calling at this unGodly hour?" The voice grumbles, clearly not happy.

"Listen, Harper, I need you to do me a favour. Who's on your team again?"

"Kori, Jason, Artemis and Bizarro. Why?"

"Look, I've got a big problem. I should have told you this a long time ago, but I've adopted a kid."

"What?"

"Yeah, and something's wrong. She's got social awkwardness, and it's become on hell of a problem. She can't even go out of the house! I'm gonna need you to look after her for a bit, you know? Get her used to people her age,"

"Alright... What's her name?"

Natasha opens her mouth, but I frantically signal at her not to tell them my real name. I don't want them to look at me badly, if I have to go. She nods at me, before saying, "Shadow. I can't tell you her real name, she doesn't want me to."

"Right... Ok... Well I'm sure the others will be fine with it, so..."

"What time can you have her?"

"Any time, really,"

"Tomorrow?"

"Uh, sure."

"Thanks a bunch, Roy, she really needs this."

"Ok, see you."

Natasha hangs up, without saying goodbye, as usual. "There," she looks at my face, watching my face carefully.

I keep my face blank, still a little upset at the fact at the fact she's just planned to ship me off, to a bunch of people I don't even know. She sits down heavily on the couch. I sit down too, frowning. "Shades," she begins, "I know that you're not exactly happy about this. But believe me, I want you to have the best experience, and Roy and his lot are pretty nice. But, if they get all assy with you, I'm only one phone call away."

I smile wryly. "I'll do that," I reply.

"But only if they get assy with you," Natasha reminds me. "Quick warning; Harper and his bunch are pretty messed up, so they do like a drink."

"What do you mean, pretty messed up?" I inquire, wanting some more information.

"Well," Natasha sits back in her chair, "they've been through trauma, all of them. It's not my place to say, but the only reason they stick together, is because they relate to one another. In a way Shades," she pauses, trying to choose her words carefully. "They're like you."

I nod. "So... Does one of them have a psychotic father?"

Natasha laughs, "No, Shades, unfortunately nobody can talk with you about that. But I can tell you, they have family issues."

"Then again, don't we all," I answer.

"Very good point, Shades," Natasha says, raising a finger in my direction, "very good point indeed."

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