NIGHTMARE ▹ Natasha Romanoff

ten.

While the SHIELD techs ran the gun through all databases, Svetlana decided to look around. She'd convinced Fury that there wasn't anything she could do anyway; unarmed and ridiculously outnumbered.

The SHIELD hallways were lit with sharp fluorescent lights and lined with guards at every corner. Svetlana took note of every exit and entrance; all the restricted areas and the weapon rooms, and more.

But it was one corridor that intrigued her most. They seemed to be living quarters, and although most of the doors were closed, through some she could see beds and desk's, agents on their break chatting and lounging around. It was all rather strange.

In one wing there was nothing but treatment rooms, with a hospital vibe to it all. There were also a few operating theaters, though most of them were empty. At the end of one hall was a room with the door open, and drops of blood leading to it.

Curiosity took over her, and Svetlana walked silently to the doorway. In it, she saw something she definitely didn't expect.

Romanoff was leaning against a bed frame, her shirt ridden up to reveal a cut in n her side, stitches that had clearly recently been popped. She was fumbling with supplies on the bed, grasping at something to stop the blood flow. Then she saw Svetlana.

She pressed her eyes closed for a second, not believing her luck. "Rostov." She said tersely, clearly annoyed at both herself and Svetlana for being caught in such a vulnerable position. "Why. Are you. Here." She said tightly.

But Svetlana had already started forward, intuition and training skills taking over her movements. "Don't move. You'll make it worse." She pulled a gauze from the tray of equipment and pressed it against the wound, her fingers moving expertly after years of training.

Romanoff seemed to stunned to react. "What- what are you doing?" She asked, watching Svetlana incredulously. It wasn't so much her medical talent that surprised her, but the way that Svetlana hadn't seemed to think twice before assisting her.

"What do you think?" Svetlana replied, not taking her eyes off the wound. She pulled out a few more supplies and a small bottle. "Don't you have medics here or something?" She asked.

Romanoff blinked and shook herself out of it. "Yeah. Yeah, we do." She pressed a small button on the side of the bed and a little light flashed by the door. No doubt some silent alarm was now going oof in the doctors areas.

As expected, a short woman walked swiftly into the room in a few seconds. She surveyed the scene; Romanoff bleeding, Svetlana helping her, the scattered materials on the bed. Then she moved swiftly to work, calling out sharp orders to Svetlana.

"Clear the bed. Now." She said, which such authority that Svetlana immediately did so. She then told Romanoff to lies down, and every few seconds would tell Svetlana to pass her something.

Romanoff said something quickly to the doctor, who nodded and went to work. She turned to Svetlana and ushered her out of the room, muttering about unsterile environments and contamination.

Svetlana started as the door shut in her face, and walked away wondering which of the two women had been more confused by the events.