I Promise

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A knocking at my door was what brought me back to reality. It's been a few days since I returned back to S.H.I.E.L.D. and I haven't left my room once. I lay in my bed all day with the blankets drawn up to my chin, willing the days to pass.

I haven't had any interaction with other agents. Throughout the day, food would be left outside my door, but I haven't actually seen them face to face. I didn't want to deal with people. Steve tried to come by once, but he left after twenty minutes of trying to get me to open the door.

Someone started knocking again at my door and I clenched the covers tighter to my body. All I wanted to do was yell at them to leave me alone, but even that would take too much effort. The knocking stopped and I thought the person on the other side took the hint to leave.

However, the door opened and someone walked in. I briefly glanced at the person and nearly let out a sigh when I saw who it was. It was the same person who has tried to get me out of my room the last few days.

Natasha.

She stopped at the foot of the bed, observing me. Probably just to make sure I was alive. I looked away from her and looked back at the wall, indicating I didn't want to talk. She sat down on the edge of the bed and went to grab something from the small bag she brought with her.

"I got you something." She said, pulling it out and showing it to me.

"It's your favorite wine." She said, handing the bottle over to me.

I didn't take it.

"It reminds me of our time in Italy." She chuckled, bringing the bottle back to her. She put the bottle on the floor and sighed.

"Are you going to talk?" She asked.

I didn't respond.

"I think you should talk to someone. If it's not me, then maybe someone that can help you." She suggested.

"You mean a therapist?" I asked, my voice hoarse from not using it.

"If that helps, yes."

"I'm not seeing a therapist." I say.

"Well then talk to me." She insisted.

"No, Natasha. I don't want to talk about anything." I stressed.

"Keeping it in isn't helping anyone. You sit in this room all day and you don't leave. How are you supposed to do your job and help people when you sit around moping all day?" She replied.

"I don't need a lecture from you right now, Natasha! If that's what you continue to do, then leave." I yelled at her, flinging the blanket off me.

She jumped to her feet, quickly and glared at me.

"You do need a lecture. You need your ass kicked back to reality. The world doesn't stop for us when we're sad or feeling down. It will leave us behind, unless we get back up and fight to keep up." She scolded.

"Natasha, I'm warning you." I say, getting off my bed. A fierce glare rested on my face as I stared the redhead down.

"Or what?" She challenged.

"Get out." I whispered, all my energy being drained from my body. "Just get out."

"No. I'm not leaving, until you leave this room." She protested.

"I said get out!" I yelled, grabbing the wine bottle from the ground and hurling it at the wall beside her. The wine and glass splattered all over the wall and the ground and Natasha ducked to avoid being hit.

My anger instantly disappeared, but I didn't feel that bad. I warned her. I walked back to my bed and collapsed into a sitting position, dropping my head in my hands. I could feel Natasha's stare as she observed me.

A Spider's Web ll Natasha RomanoffWhere stories live. Discover now