Work Text:
Knives Under my Pillow
Natasha Romanoff, ex-Russian assassin spy turned international worldwide hero, everyone was trying to find out what her a change of heart. If you asked Tony, he would say it was his money, after all no wants to be a broke Russian assassin. If you asked Steve, he would say it was the mystery of the first super soldier. If you asked Clint, he would say it was his kids. If you asked Banner, he would see say it was his rocking good looks along with his many PHD’s. If you asked thor he’d say it was his mightiness that inspired the drastic change. If you asked Natasha if any of them wouldn’t be, if you asked Natasha, she’d say it was a sticky situation.
Nat knew there was a certain webslinger out there. You might even go as far as to say she was fond of him. Good heart, but he humorless quips and squeaky I-haven’t-been-through-puberty yet, voice 100% gave it away. She wasn’t obsessed just observant. Like how she noticed spiderman’s closer and closer still, relationship with Tony Stark. So, when spiderman started arriving at training sessions with the other avengers she wasn’t surprised, she wasn’t surprised when he stayed for lunch after, she wasn’t surprised when Tony and, the still masked spiderman, curled up next to each other during a movie. As a Russian spy, surprised wasn’t under the list of attributes, she was surprised, however, when he ended up mask less and puffy on her bedroom ceiling at 2 in the morning.
“G’night Tony,” She had said only hours before. They’d just finished a movie, well maybe like 3. Spiderman went to bed about 2 movies in. A faint smile rested on her lips at the memory as she headed into her mint green bedroom. Her favorite color, mint green was also an unexpected thing for an ex-assassin, and contrary to popular belief she wasn’t of fan of dark colors if it wasn’t on clothes. Plus, the bright colors calmed her, she didn’t need to wake up in the middle of the night with memories of the retched red room memories. They were locked neatly away in an imaginary velvet box. Also, mint green for her own entertainment.
“Night Tasha.” Tony said sleepily heading off to his bedroom where Pepper sat reading a book. It was on the opposite side of hers. This way if Nat had a nightmare someone could help her, especially knowing the history behind the same experiences. Once in a while Nat caught the jealous looks Pepper gave her, but it was nothing more than a few invasive thoughts. They both knew Nat and Tony weren’t in a romantic relationship in anyway. He was too sarcastic for her, call her critical but she preferred the quieter modester kind. Or modest most of the time, she chuckled to herself at the thought the renowned scientist Bruce Banner. His words not hers.
Nat practically fell into her bed and very much would have if she didn’t notice the missing knife under her pillow. It was routine for her to clutch a knife under her pillow while she slept. It was calming, and in 15 years she hadn’t been without, bringing the small weapon with her everywhere she slept. If she was sleeping over, of course, if not than it stayed behind said, pillow. She did remember sharpening it earlier, holding the velvet handle in her hand as she watched the blade get sharper and sharper. With a groan she heaved herself off the bed and went in search for it.
She wandered throughout the silent halls thinking about every room she passed. Her backstory was of many topics around here. No one really knew where she began as she didn’t speak about it much. The only person who knew even a little but was Barton and they shared a common experience, there was a lot of differences between them though.
Finally, she made it to the weaponries and went straight to the knife sharpener station where it lay. It fit perfectly in her hand and she smiled satisfyingly at the small object. It was elegant and disguised. Sharp enough to stab someone at a moment notice while being too visible. It had a little spider prints on the handle. A symbol of the black widow.
She went back the way she came, with the knife clutched tightly in her right hand, her footsteps being the only thing making any sound. Budapest was another subject not commonly brought up. It was a mission one that had been intense and adrenaline pumping. She liked missions like those, ones that kept her mind off of her horrific past.
This time Natasha really did fall into bed. She was always alert, and her knife was safely tucked under the pillow.
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A few hours later she heard rustling in her room. Immediately alert she fought to keep her breathing still. A common thing she’d learned in the red room when the trainers would collect the students throughout the night if they were awake. It taught her how to maintain her breathing a slow even pace. Secretly though, she kept her ears open. From what she heard the intruder was on her other side the one her back was to. The knife she clutched even tighter in her hand. Slowly, very slowly she dragged it out, so it was clutched close to her chest.
She would throw it, but she wanted to know exactly where the intruder was. The shuffling stopped when she rolled over with a sleepy groan. Her breath was even, and her eyes were shut gently. The hand the knife was hiding in was hidden behind to her two arms which fisted against her chin, so they were crossed the knife pointing down.
More shuffling she fought for her body not to tense. No giving yourself away. She liked to think it was a way to train them into being secretive. As assassins they needed to be able to know who they were playing and at what time. No time for mistakes. If they did, fail their mission, they would be thrown into the white room. Much different than the red room. The white room hid all of their senses, rendering them completely useless and disoriented.
A whimper was heard, this time it was above her. Ignoring the whimper, she assumed the intruder was going to jump her, so she made the first move. Her eyes snapped open and her hand was moving the velvet weapon soaring above her. She was crouched in a moments notice avoiding the fall of her knife if it did. It didn’t, finding purchase on the intruder making him fall.
The intruder groaned and the lights clicked on. She ripped off the mask fury flaming in her eyes. She towered over him watching and waiting for him to realize he was caught. Another whimper and Natasha rolled her eyes unmasking the body below her.
The first thing she noticed was the curly brown hair, and with closer notice the spiderman mask she now clutched in her hand.
“spiderman,” she asked confusion lacing her tone. He was, young. So, he was right there not that she ever she was wrong, but he looked so pure laying before her. She realized her mistake when she saw the handle sticking out from his shoulder, at the exact moment Tony Stark came barging into her room. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Tony said simply hurrying over to check Spi- the boy out. Natasha knew she was young, she knew, but seeing him didn’t make it any better. “What happened,” Tony’s voice wasn’t harsh or rough like she would’ve expected it to be. After all she did injure the boy, the boy Tony clearly thought of as a son.
“I- I woke up and heard shuffling my knife stabbed him when I thought the intruder was over me,” She explained, voice guilty. Tony just nodded along still seeing if the boy was safe to move.
“Sorry Ms. Romanov,” Spiderman spoke for the first time. “It’s my fault, good shot though. Not many can actually move fast enough to hit me.”
“Yeah, so much for the peter-tingle,” Tony said with a sigh already helping Spi- Peter up and heading to the med bay.
“Don’t call it that,” Peter whined. Natasha couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. Quieter he said, “Now you made the Black Widow laugh at me.”
Natasha just smiled kindly the guilty look still very obviously in her eye.
“don’t feel bad,” Tony said putting his free arm on her shoulder inviting her to come to the med bay with them. Peter’s face turned beet read, after all having the Black Widow accompany you to get checked out probably wasn’t the best EGO inducing thing, and had it been any other injury she would’ve stayed here.
“I want to make sure I didn’t hurt him,” She whispered quietly.
“Okay,” Tony said leading all three of them out and to the med bay but not before sticking peter’s mask back on.
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So why did the infamous Black Widow change her ways? Its for a better world, because she grew up with children who didn’t know what love felt like, what it felt like to be safe, and she would keep Peter Parker safe if it was the last thing she did. It was what this was for. So, as she fell her last thoughts were of him, of the way they got closer after everything. Clint’s hopeless eyes staring down at her as she fell, and she smiled. Maybe just maybe they would get her маленький паук back even if she would never see him again.
She hit the floor Peter’s face being the last thought in her mind.
A/N: I’m sorry I did this. This was not how it was supposed to end. ):