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Peaceful quiet fell over the area as Rogers prepared some daisy tea. Nat wanted to get up and make herself her own cup as a strong and independent lady, but... it was nice to just sit on a sofa, covered in blankets, and enjoy silence and a view on night New York. The moment was too good to lose. Plus, Natasha figured Steve might want some time alone too.
She started to doze off when the piercing screech of the teapot perturbed her awake. Nat always hated this sound, it was so loud for absolutely no reason. And it was especially deafening now
She heard her friend's rushed footsteps and the whistle soon stopped
- Sorry, I know you don't like that noise. - he spoke up quietly - I hope we didn't wake anyone up.
- I don't think so. - Natasha replied, rotating herself to see the supersoldier - The walls are thick, and those who are awake in this ungodly hour likely would not bother us.
Steve nodded. He returned to the couch with two warm steaming mugs, placed them on the coffee table (why is it called coffee table though?) and picked up his sketchbook. Nat took her cup and edged closer to Rogers to see what he's going to draw. He was genuinely an amazing artist, and sometimes she was a bit jealous over how talented Steve is with a pencil. Maybe he could teach her sometime later to draw too
- What are you sketching? - she asked
- Just some birds I've seen in Central Park this week, - the other replied, not looking up
- It looks nice, - Nat remarked
Watching Rogers sketch was very meditating, as was sipping hot daisy-flavoured tea. But the dread still lingered in the spy's stomach, a void of worry eating at her heart. Memories that she tried to bury so hard - that place - all got resurfaced, mixed in a stew with her darkest fears and forcefully shoved inside. She wanted it to go away, but how can she let it out when Steve is here? He shouldn't worry about her.
Yet he does. And she's worried about him too.
Natasha couldn't help but wonder with apprehension what was the reason for Steve to be here. Always so resilient, so strong, yet now he just looks tired and shaken.
- Hey... - she said - I know it sounds weird, especially coming from me, but... Do you think it will be better after we talk about it?
The supersoldier didn't answer immediately.
- I- I don't know, Tashie. I've read that it helps, but... it is scary to relive. You shouldn't go through that if it pains you-
- I want to try. - she interrupted, feeling that if she waited any second all her courage would disappear. - I do. And... and you can tell me then what bothered you.
Rogers looked at her for a long moment. It was a heavy decision for both of them, but the more he waited on a reply, the more Natasha's anxiety grew.
What if she won't be able to tell it? Can she now? What words does she even need for it to fully make sense?
Does it even need to make sense...
No preparation will be enough to fully capture all the raw grief and horror. And now, Nat wasn't given any at all. And she most definitely didn't want to think about how to describe it now. If she starts, she'll go too far down the hole. And won't be able to crawl out.
- Sure. - Steve shrugged uncertainly - Go ahead, if you're ready.
Nat wasn't, but there was no going back now. Though, her thoughts seemed to get stuck, and it felt like she forgot how to use her vocal chords.
With dawning horror, she realized she wanted to cry. Why?! What- cry! Spies are not supposed to cry, nor be hesitant, nor give into unnecessaries like feelings, nor not know what to do. Natasha Romanov was not supposed to do either of those things.
Yet here we are.
- I...
Say something. Anything. Just talk. Please. Do something, just don't cry.
Nat was never taught how to handle it. To say she hated that feeling was an understatement.
Then again, she went through far more dangerous stuff. The Black Widow can handle it.
Hopefully
- I don't know where to start. - she began. Her throat ached from talking over the mental lump inside, but she brushed it off - I don't think I can do it.
Steve moved closer to the spy and put her in a light embrace. There was no hidden pity, just quiet understanding.
- That's alright. - he said - You don't have to, Nat.
His presence was comforting, and Natasha finally felt herself relaxing for the first time since she woke up.
- Are we just going to... sit here and forget about it?
- If you want to.
- I do
They didn't know that F.R.I.D.A.Y. erased that conversation from camera tapes. No one did.