WHO: Natalia Romanova WHEN: Day 1, evening WHERE: Room G WHAT: Natasha's on guard while tiny!SHIELD gets some rest. TRIGGERS: Hunger Games. Some morbidity, but nothing really graphic. Mentions of murdering people and child soldiering.
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The Red Room tested you. Even after you fulfilled one test, there was always another and another. Those memories were never far from Natasha's mind, even if she cataloged everything in her head. Kept them in cabinets for when she needed them. She had files for the people in her world (and now the other subjects), for missions, for all the people she killed who could have made a difference in the world. That's what the markers were for, she'd given them out to people for things she'd done that she wished she could take back. Not many were called in; most people never wanted to see her again. Understandable, given that most of them involved murders. Or torture. Or torturous murders. Pulling the trigger on a sniper rifle was so much easier than slowly killing them while they were tired to a chair.
Every mission was a test, you see. You gained a title, you proved you were the best, but you constantly had to prove yourself over and over again. Someone else would always try to come and take your place. Yelena. Nadia. The Red Room was a constant sea of new recruits, forcibly taken or happily given away in service of whatever they claimed they were at the time. Whether they were the Red Room or R2 or the Dark Room, their objective was always the same. Brainwash a bunch of young girls to do their killing so they wouldn't get their hands dirty. Test after test. They were dropped in Siberia, they were dropped in the Sahara, they were dropped anywhere and only one was allowed to make it back.
That had always been Natasha.
This situation, these Hunger Games, were just another variant of it. Some other monsters enjoying watching people they didn't give two shits about fighting each other until only one remained. They crowned them the victor, but everyone knew that getting out alive, the sole survivor, left you indebted and guilt-ridden long after it was over. There were no winners. It was the illusion of choice. Keep your honor and your body stays in a frozen tundra for someone to find at some later date and wonder what that poor bastard was doing out here.
The glowworms almost made the place seem peaceful. Serene water, soft light. It was the kind of place tourists might take tours through, like they did in Te Anau. At some point, they were going to have to move on. This cave was too serene not have something lurking beneath the surface and too sweet a spot for other tributes to stumble on. So far, no one had come this way, but it wasn't likely to stay like this. One of the agents behind her rolled over in her sleep. Natasha didn't turn to see which one; her eyes were glued between the entrances. Ultimately, it didn't matter which one it was. The goal was still the same: get the small SHIELD agents out of here.
They were both out of their league. Nearly half the people in here had murdered people before, not always in cold blood, but when it came to their lives on the line, survival instinct was strong. Add in that people suddenly distrusted everyone else in the arena, and it was a recipe for spearing, stabbing and setting people on fire, ask questions later.
There were scenarios in the Red Room. The most vivid memory she had was tarnished through brainwashing and erasures. She remembered a street. Just an ordinary street. There were buildings with fire escapes. Kids playing in broken fire hydrants' water. People filled the streets, going about their business. Captain America was there, and he was chasing agents. None of them were a match, of course, because it wasn't really Captain America. It was the Winter Soldier dressed as him. Too many agents feared the costume alone, even if it was a knock off version of the real thing. Broken wrists and legs, and Natasha was the last woman standing. She held a gun in one hand, a grenade in the other and she wasn't about to let one of them go to waste. Her life was of little consequence when it came to stopping a target. You give everything for the Motherland or you're not worth the money they spent brainwashing and training you.
How much had they spent on training classes that most people didn't go to or take seriously? How much had they spent on hotel rooms without doors? Unlimited food. Intricate scenarios that seemed to be based on circles of hell and Eden with dinosaurs living with human beings. What was their purpose? What did they plan to achieve? Who were they using as their control because none of the people in the facility were normal. Even the ones without powers weren't "normal" by any means. Survivors and fighters and manipulators were everywhere.
Over her shoulder, Natasha looked down at the pair. Which were they? The ones she knew were all of the above, though they prefer to let other people fight their battles for them, and Natasha was a favorite for that task. And here she found herself once again looking out for their best interests. Hadn't she saved SHIELD more than enough times? Couldn't she just work on her own markers, slowly eliminating the number of people she owed until maybe one day, she could stop tossing in her sleep because memories of murders in her head? She'd laugh at herself, but she knew there were cameras somewhere, somehow everywhere. They weren't going to put twenty-six of them in here without torturing everyone back home —
She had a horrible thought.
They could have lied completely about who was going in and who would remain behind. No one really knew. What if everyone had been split up into various Hunger Games arenas? What if it wasn't just them? It hadn't occurred to her that they would send people to multiple versions of the same scenario. Maybe it wasn't caves. Maybe some went to space. Maybe some to a jungle or a desert. Post apocalyptic worlds. City centers full of things designed to kill them. Maybe this had just gotten worse in her head, and there was no way to get proof that it wasn't this.
Someone had to be watching, even if it was only the scientists, and she wasn't about to give them to satisfaction of knowing what was going on in her head. Thinking about it changed nothing. She had her charges, and she was damned well going to get them out of here. She thrived on the impossible or the seemingly impossible, because nothing was actually impossible in Natalia Romanova's mind. She'd find a way out of this, send Maria and Daisy out, and then go back for anyone else she could find.