Budapest

Chapter 30

Natasha Romanoff
Have you ever had a strange tingling feeling? Like a case of...what is it that Clint calls it? Pins and needles?...anyway...Imagine having sat down on your foot for an hour, not shifting position at all during this time. Now imagine getting up after that hour and feeling an intense case of tingling in your foot. Now imagine that ten times worse in your head and then you'd half know what this feels like. As soon as I had stepped into the city I had felt it. The feeling was being emitted by the chip in my brain and I knew exactly what it meant..but now I just desperately had to find Clint. I shake my head viciously and blink away the blurriness in my vision.
"Clint!" I screech. Before dropping to my knees. I feel his hand on my shoulder a few moments later.
"Tasha!? What is it?" He tries to get me to look up.
"It's the chip. I feel dizzy..and there's stabbing pains. It's cold Clint. But not like temperature...more like..." My mind seems to stop processing everything temporarily.
"Tasha?"
"Like death." I finally finish. I swing back my arm to put momentum into my arm as I move to hit myself in the head. The shock causes the tingles to dissipate slightly as they travel down my spine. I finally come to my senses enough to make out Clint's features. His back is arched, as he crouches, his hands holding me steady. My eyes wander over his face, from his eyebrows, to his eyelashes, to his piercing blue eyes, his scars and finally his lips. They are dried from the harsh winds. His lips move and that's when I realize I can't hear anything. Not the sound of distance cars, or birds chirping or even Clint's worried pleas. Nothing. And for some reason the only thing that comes into my mind is to describe this sensation as deafening. Silence, is ironically, deafening.
"Natasha!" My ears pop and the tingling returns to my head.
"The KGB have started killing the girls." I say. As I say it I imagine faceless girls all over the world going about there business before they suddenly don't live anymore, as their heads explode, with the people around them screaming and praying for God's mercy.
"Can we just take you out of the zone?" He asks hastily. I laugh lightly.
"It's too late now Clint. Once they start the detonation, it kills everyone who was in the zone at the time." I sit back, and my shoulders fall, my head hanging in defeat.
"I always thought I'd die to the bullet not to some fat guy pushing a button." I manically laugh. I run my hand through my hair and bring it over one shoulder.
"Guess I never did get around to cutting it." I say to myself.
"That's it? You're just giving up?" Clint asks, a little taken aback.
"What's the point? I can't run from my own head." I say, adding "trust me- I've tried" as an afterthought.
"Well even if you're giving up Nat..there's no way I am." He takes his stuff off of his shoulder and places it in front of him.
"How long do you think you have?" He asks me hastily, starting to throw things out of his bag desperately.
"About 8 minutes." I say instantly. I note the fact that he doesn't even question me.
I watch as he grabs out a bottle of alcohol and a medical kit.
Finally I catch on to his thinking.
"When you go to cut it out you have to cut the wire closest to my eyes first." He stops rummaging through the kit to look at me. My heart falls slightly as I see his expression. His eyes have turned dull, the bags under his eyes more noticeable. The sarcasm is gone from his voice,
"How am I going to cut it out? You're still conscious."
"I'll knock myself out. Then you open my head, cut the wires and throw the chip far away. But if you think you aren't going to make it in time...you run. I don't want you getting hurt in the explosion either."
He takes up the knife and alcohol and looks at me.
"Tasha I-"
I move straight towards him and connect our lips. After he gets over the initial shock, he kisses me back, his hand letting go of the knife as he places his hand behind me neck, pulling me closer.
I pull away, putting my right hand in a fist.
My left hand stays at his face as I use my thumb to wipe away the small tear that had leaked from his eyes. I feel tears slipping down my own cheeks. I haven't cried in years.
"I love you." I say, before bringing my fist up to my temple before he has a chance to reply.
My eyes roll back into my skull and I slump backwards, falling unconscious to the sound of the familiar, tick, tick, tick.
•
If you've never woken up in a place you don't know, then I envy you. The fear that grabs at you is unlike anything else. I can deal with nearly having my brain turned to mush but not knowing where I am or where Clint is makes me fearful.
I'm lying on a white bed with white sheets, in a room with walls. To my right are various medical devices and to my left seems to be the only door in the entire room. There are no windows or anything that could be considered as 'friendly.' There aren't even any chairs in the room.
I try to sit up but instantly regret my decision. The feeling I get in my forehead is so intense I almost pass out.
The door handle creaks slightly and turns. I look over and see three men enter the room. One, is a shorter man with a well-tailored suit on. Coulson is the name that initially comes to mind. Beside him, but standing slightly behind him is Clint. His eyes look sunken and he has a bruise on his jaw. Obviously he was punched. He half smiles at me before wincing at the pain in his jaw. The final man is one of those intimidating types. He wears an eyepatch and a black leather jacket. The guns he has on him a very noticeable. Probably for my benefit.
Clint walks towards me and grabs my hand, ignoring the noise Coulson makes.
"I love you too." He whispers so soft that only I would have been able to hear it.
"What happened? Where am I?" I ask, changing into Black Widow mode.
"I'll tell you what happened later." Says Clint as he steps back.
The guy with the eyepatch steps forward.
"Natasha Romanoff. I'm Director Fury. Welcome to SHIELD." As I look at them all I finally realize that maybe now I can get it right. I can get rid of the red in my ledger, I can be with Clint and maybe sometime in the future I can hunt down every last bastard who ever worked for the KGB. But for now, all that matters is the fact that I have a lot of catching up to do, like for instance: what really did happen in Budapest?
A/N: And that's Budapest complete! Thank you guys so much for reading and I may or may not write a sequel in the future...
In the meantime, please feel free to read any of my other stories. Love you all!! Xx