𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 ✘ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅

{3¹} {GRAVESTONES}

∆ {3¹} {GRAVESTONES} ∆

ROXI, AT THAT moment in time, wasn't too far from where Fury was 'buried', but she wasn't here to see his grave. Did it really matter if he was still walking around, live and well? But some people didn't come back from the dead. Phil Coulson, Howard Stark, and nor would the person who belonged to the name carved into the stone in front of her would be walking the earth now, like Fury was. It sparked a small amount of anger in her, which was overshadowed by a sense of cold grief washing over her. It wasn't new, but it didn't stop the raw pain she felt. She could clearly remember the day she got the call. It'd been a spring day, like it was now. The sun had been shining, the sky had been blue, the birds had been singing; it was all incredibly similar. And Roxi had been happy.

She remembered everything about it. She remembered the way she'd gotten back from a day of training at S.H.I.E.L.D and the way she'd started to make dinner as she waited. She'd hummed along to the songs on the radio and had been looking forwards to a night of soft chatting and watching Netflix. She remembered the way her phone had rang, barely audible over the radio, which she'd cranked right up to almost it's highest volume. She remembered the way she'd let it ring for a few seconds casually as she put the spatula down, picked it up without checking the number - a habit she'd picked up since - and answered. She remembered the way she felt her face drop as she heard what the person on the other side of the line was saying, and the way that as soon as the call had ended, she'd turned off her hob, slid on her shoes, fumbling, and rushed out of the room, forgetting her gun in the rush. She remembered the way she'd arrived at the hospital as the sun began setting, and the way she'd finally got to the room. She remembered the way that images had flashed through her head as she'd stared through the glass into the operation room, and she remembered the way that the room had been filled with a long, quiet beep that seemed to tear the air in half and split Roxi's world apart.

She flinched when her phone rang, and for a moment, the scene of the kitchen flashed in her mind, before she realised that it was her real phone, and that a real, alive person was actually calling her. Roxi brought the phone up and checked the name quickly before answering.

"Hey Ryder," Natasha's voice filtered through the phone smoothly. At some point in the last year, while she'd started coming here again, Roxi had realised what these butterfly feelings in her stomach were. It'd taken her by shock when the realisation finally dawned on her that she liked the redheaded assassin. It wasn't something she'd ever considered, but once it popped into her head, it made sense. She pushed all of her thoughts out of her head as she gulped thickly before responding.

"Hey Natasha." Her voice was softer than it'd been in a long time, and the raw emotion she held in it seemed to take the redhead by surprise.

"You okay? You sound a bit... emotional," Natasha joked. However well-intentioned it was, Roxi straightened up in her place (as if the redhead could see her) and calmed herself down so that her voice was cool and hard again.

"I'm fine." On the other end of the line, Natasha frowned at the other woman's sudden stiffness.

"Ryder," the redhead reprimanded her softly, shielding her eyes from the bright sun as she did so. She heard a quiet sigh on the other end of the line, before she got a reply.

"What is it?" Roxi asked more softly, the breeze blowing her hair - which was still dyed black - into her face, causing her to push it out of the way with a small amount of irritation.

"Stark's got a hit on a possible location for the sceptre, we need to get ready to leave," Natasha informed through the phone, smiling slightly at the ex-agent's more relaxed tone.