Always Okay ─ n. romanoff ✓

eight

THE following several minutes were a rush of avoiding Rumlow's idiots, grabbing their things out of Nat's car, and waiting uncomfortably as Steve hotwired a car. Sasha would have done it herself, but she found it rather entertaining to witness the interesting juxtaposition of America's golden boy committing grand larceny. They were now halfway to New Jersey, Steve at the wheel, Natasha in the passenger seat, and Sasha in the back. Her fingers were typing her phone's keyboard furiously.

"Can S.H.I.E.L.D. track that thing?" Steve wondered, gesturing to the phone. Sasha shrugged.

"In theory, yes, but I don't think they're looking for me. I've been off of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar for years. Besides, I'm sure they're smart enough to figure out where you're going now that they know you have the drive." Sasha shrugged. "And honestly, I'd much rather let Rumlow shoot me in the head than let my best friend do it to herself."

Steve's eyes flickered up to the rear view mirror. "Why'd you leave?"

Sasha could hear Natasha's breathing come to an anxious halt. It wasn't something Natasha ever wanted to pay attention to, and now that Sasha thought about it, she wasn't sure anyone had said it out loud since she'd been diagnosed. She didn't go around screaming it from rooftops, but if someone asked, she would tell them. She considered herself very lucky that most people, including Audrey, knew better than to ask those questions.

"I left because I'm anorexic." Sasha could feel Nat's pupils burning a hole in her skin, so she added, "Once you have the disorder, you're never really not anorexic in your head. There's always that mental block you have to fight whenever you eat. Or, at least, that's how a lot of people work."

Steve cleared his throat. "And your friend..."

"She isn't like me." Sasha shook her head. "She has...other big problems. She's kind of my responsibility. She may not know everything about my life, but I know everything about hers. Her mom cares about her a lot. Unfortunately, attentiveness isn't her strong suit."

They were all silent after that. The car rolled past the blue "Welcome to New Jersey" sign, though Sasha was too fixated on her phone to notice it. Natasha, feeling awkward, decided to strike up a conversation.

"Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?"

"Nazi Germany. And we're borrowing. Take your feet off the dash."

Natasha pulled her feet off the dashboard.

"Alright, I have a question for you, oh, which you do not have to answer. I feel like if you don't answer it though, you're kind of answering it, you know?"

Sasha looked up. "Please, Natasha, go ahead. Make this more awkward for all of us."

Nat ignored her and said, "Was that your first kiss since nineteen-forty-five?"

"Oh my god!" Sasha yelled. "No! We don't need to have this conversation! That is a complete violation!"

"Alright, alright." Natasha put her hands up as though she was being held at gunpoint. Steve shook his head and smiled.

"It was not my first kiss since nineteen-forty-five," he said. "I'm ninety-five, I'm not dead."

"Nobody special, though?" Nat asked. Sasha pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, nails digging into her scalp.

"Believe it or not, it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience." Steve pointed to Sasha. "But I guess you two found each other."

They did. As much as the two of them gave each other shit and pretended they didn't care, Natasha and Sasha were lucky to have each other. Without Nat, Sasha would probably be dead. Without Sasha, Nat would also probably be dead. There was distance between them in more ways than one, but even knowing they had someone was nice. Someone who'd been through the same hell, who had the same wrist scars and the same teachers. Even if all they did with each other was eat, watch TV, and sit in silence in the living room.