The Unbreakable Code (a YJ fanfic)

Chapter Six: A Blond Romanoff And An Old Father

"You did what you did to me."
Alphaville, Big In Japan

I stood in front of the door that I had been given the address to.

You can do this. It's Natasha, for God's sake!
Come on. Did you see the others' faces when we mentioned her? It's obvious that stuff has gone down.

What kind of stuff?

I don't bloody know! Should I?!

"Ugh," I sighed, putting a had to my forehead. This was already seeming like a bad idea. Then again... I really needed to see Natasha.

So, I screwed up what was left of my courage, and knocked twice on the door.
No answer.
I knocked again, whilst saying, "Hello? Nat, you in there?"

At the sound of my voice, there was a clatter of plates, that made me jump away from the threshold. Then there were running footsteps, before they halted outside the door.

"Who's there?" Came a sharp voice. It was rough, and had a hostile edge to it, but I'd know that voice anywhere.

"Nat, you may want to open the door-" I tried, not wanting to shock her.

"Don't call me that!" She interrupted me. "And if you're from the Justice League, I'm not interested! I told you, I quit!"

"You quit?" I repeated confusedly.

"Who are you?" Natasha asked, and there was a vague sound of someone cocking a gun.

Oh poo. They weren't joking when they said she entered a deep depression...

"Natasha Romanoff," I said calmly. "Open the bloody door."

There was a shuffling movement, before the door opened by a slight crack. I saw her green eyes stare at me quizzically, before they widened, and the door slammed shut again.
I sighed exasperatedly, "Natasha, let me explain,"

"You're not her! You're not her! She died, Goddamn it! They all told me she was dead!"

"They were wrong!" I yelled through the wood, clenching my fists. "They were wrong, Nat! I'm here, I'm alive! Let me explain, open the bloody door!"

There was a painful silence, before the door creaked open, revealing her; but she wasn't how I'd left her. Her red hair used to be long. Now it was short, and straightened, as well as the fact that it was blond.

She was wearing a worn cardigan, which looked as if it had been knitted by some seventy year old, and had been washed far too many times. It was faded, and had lost its lusture, it's color now a mustardy green.

Yuck...

"Shades?" She asked hoarsely, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Hello..." I said softly. "I believe that the League owes you an explanation."

Natasha nodded quietly, "They damn well do." With that, she launched herself into my arms, and sobbed, whilst I silently comforted her.

£

"So, your dad gave them a tip off, to where you were... And they didn't tell me."

"To be fair, Nat, you were off the grid..." I tried, but she simply groaned, and rubbed her forehead.

"How could I be so stupid? You're much to stubborn to die. Especially after Moscow..."

"Natasha, I thought we agreed never to talk about the Moscow assignment again," I reminded her.