S.H.I.E.L.D. operative. You can call me Carter, or 13.
The cold response from Sharon made Natasha look towards the window awkwardly, her thumbs fiddling with each other. She lied, she knew that. Clint had already told her that they were done. He’d told her he could never forgive her for lying to him, bold face lying and putting herself and Steve in danger. Natasha knew that what she’d done was terrible, but she’d been trying to protect them, trying to protect the friends who’d already done so much for her. Looking back up towards Sharon, Natasha looked into the woman’s eyes. They were filled with disappointment.
“Look… Sharon, I’m sorry.” She began, shaking her head quickly. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought that by sending you and the rest of the team out, it would be putting everyone else out of harm’s way. But instead… it just made things worse. I didn’t mean to disappoint you and you’ll probably never forgive me, but please, please don’t cut me off… Clint already has…”
Sharon looked back up as Natasha began talking. All of her friend’s false cheer was gone now. Sharon kept her face impassive as Natasha spoke, but she knew her eyes looked sad. How had Natasha thought that it would be best to increase the risks she and Cap faced by sparing the rest of the group. Clearly a few lessons in friendship needed to be taught here; maybe there was more than one reason for that code name. But Sharon’s brow furrowed when Natasha brought up cutting her off. This had been a severe offense, yes, but she couldn’t imagine ever going that far in her retaliation.
But apparently, Barton had. Sharon couldn’t ignore the pain she felt at the news; she was aware that Natasha cared for Clint deeply. “I’m not—” She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “About Clint. I’m not going to do that to you.” Can’t would be more like it. “But you just—you can’t…” She looked at Natasha. The woman looked miserable. Clearly she’d heard enough from Clint, and more than likely Stark would have torn into her already as well. Sharon leaned forward to grip one of Natasha’s hands tightly. The movement pulled at her side, but she hid her grimace well. “I forgive you, but don’t you fucking lie to me again, Nat. Not directly, not indirectly. Whatever happens, we’re need to be in it together.”
Captain America #618
I call this ship Black 13. Like in Roulette.
My neighbor’s boyfriend stabbed her and is loose in my neighborhood…
EDIT: Yes, the cops are already at the scene, but I live in central jersey. Woods and shit. Isn’t this a fabulous thing to come home to?
….Be safe, and let me know if he hits North Jersey?
blackest-widow replied to your post:
/FUCK-A-TUDE, NEVE. EVERYONE IS JUST SOBBING ON THE FLOOR AND IT’S A BATTLEFIELD OF FEELINGS.
/I just had a bunch of feelings punch me in the face and I’m not even sure what’s going on yet.
Clinging onto the flowers that had she’d bought earlier in the day, Natasha looked around the hospital. Her eyes avoided the nurse who’d been staring at her for a bit, probably wondering why Nat had been leaning against the wall for more than a while without talking to anybody. Honestly, she was trying to get her thoughts together. She’d witnessed her friend almost bleed out to death because of her fiancee. She wasn’t exactly having a ‘pleasant week’.Natasha took a deep breath and began to walk towards the room that the doctor had directed her towards.
She pulled the curtain back swiftly with a large, fake smile. She had to act happy and as though nothing was wrong, for Sharon.
“Looks like it’s going to take more than a bullet to kill you, Carter.” Natasha pulled up a chair and placed the flowers on the table besides Sharon. “How are you?”
Sharon sat up as Natasha walked in. She really hadn’t expected such a cheery entrance. Her friend had tried to lighten the mood when Sharon had first been shot, and Sharon been a little too busy being blinded by pain to tell her to cut it out. Now her eyes narrowed. “Looks like it,” she said stiffly. Sharon looked at the flowers. Even if she was annoyed, the gesture was still nice. “Thanks.”
She’d known Nat would show. She’d expected her friend to be guilty, but hadn’t planned on letting that stop her from tearing into the other agent. Pretty flowers or no, that didn’t change the fact that Romanoff had lied. But looking at Natasha’s tired face, Sharon couldn’t find it in herself to get started on just what exactly had been wrong with the day before. She dropped her gaze and stared down at her lap.
