Entry tags:

!gamewide plot (generic), marvel: natasha romanoff (mcu)

scene - natasha romanoff

The costume and prop room off stage left in the high school's theatre desperately needed attention, and Natasha was feeling guilty enough for abandoning her job that she decided to stay after rehearsals to get some organizing and cleaning done. The dust was thick on the shelves, enough that when she moved items, their spots were perfectly marked and preserved. With her hair up in a messy bun and a playlist that heavily featured Green Day and a surprising amount of '90s boy bands blasting from her back pocket, Natasha cleaned and trashed items and moth-eaten costumes with impunity.

She lost track of time as she fell into a rhythm. She allowed her mind to wander, though she was always passively aware of her surroundings. No one came in, not even the custodian. She was left wholly on her own, and yet a bouquet of fresh flowers appeared on a shelf she'd just Pledged within an inch of its life. Without missing a beat, she picked them up and caught a whiff, and bars slammed around her. They were above and below and to every side of her, and they were cold and hard, and there was no door.

Swearing in every language she knew Natasha dropped the flowers at her feet and silenced her phone. She had just enough space to move, to reach her pockets or even to sit if she needed to, but that was it. Her elbow brushed one side when she pulled her phone from her back pocket. Her shoulder brushed the other as she turned in place, trying to find a keyhole to pick a space big enough for her to try to squeeze herself through. There was nothing, though, just cold metal and the smell of sickly sweet flowers, dust, and her own fear.

Flashes of other metal boxes came unbidden. Memories of shipping containers and crying girls and her sister being pulled from her. Shooting ranges. Being taught to lie. To kill. Being molded into a weapon. Being mutilated. Having her choices taken from her. Her freedom. Her family. The bars seemed to press closer as her vision tunneled and her breathing grew ragged. She'd let these memories go long ago, taken her power back from them, but the cage in the poorly lit storage room brought them back. Took her back, and she was just as trapped as she had been in the Red Room.

The fighter in her told her to focus, to breathe and take stock and use the phone in her shaking hand to call for help. The scared little girl who just wanted to go home was stronger than the fighter at that moment, and she slid to the ground, folding her knees to her chest and hiding in her crossed arms. If she didn't see the cage, maybe she could pretend it wasn't real. If she closed her eyes tight enough to see stars, maybe she could wish the bars away, or wish that she was at home with her family, safe and not here. Not trapped, locked away without a door.

Wishing didn't work. It never worked, though if it was going to, it would be in a place like this. But it helped. Natasha sat curled in on herself, sweat and tears leaving trails in the dust on her face, for an hour wishing, focusing on one thing: home. That focus eased her panic and made it easier to breathe, and she was finally able to unlock her phone and open her profile on the network. She didn't want to worry Yelena, but she knew her sister would be more upset about not being told there was an issue than she would knowing Nat needed help.

Stupid flowers. She started her post where everyone could see, where her kid and her friends could know that something was up without having to go into detail. She added a private message to Bucky and Yelena. They were both resourceful, and she was sure Yelena had contacts on construction sites. She could probably find something to cut through the metal. Meanwhile, he could get her sister into the school without setting off alarms. Teachers were allowed to stay on campus late, though maybe not this late. She was going to have to make a sacrifice to appease Doloris for this.