Chapter Text
It's been far too long since I've published much of anything, but I've had so many stories running through my head I can barely get anywhere without being sidetracked! This story works on the idea of what would happen if Natasha was one of the little girls at the facility in Russia when Peggy and the Howling Commandos infiltrate in the Iron Ceiling. Basically, it mucks with everything in the MCU, but I just wanted to see my two favorite characters together! I'd also wanted to get a bit further into writing before publishing, but the very near (!) release of Civil War has made me impulsive.
As always, I own nothing of these amazing characters.
Hope you enjoy!
Prologue:
Like many times in Peggy Carter's life, there're moments where it seems that all she knows is being torn apart, bit by fragile bit. It's moments like those where she's floundering, swept up in a tide dragging her out to sea, and all of a sudden there's no real account of time, no awareness of the world around her. There's simply a Before and an After.
(Before: Steve, holding her close, necessitated by the fierce cold and size of the military cot they're resting on. There's a thousand emotions setting her alight from the inside, burning through her like fire, but for once she's allowing it, allowing herself to fall into the flames, and it's terrifying and exhilarating all at once.)
(After: She's alone. Truly alone. This was the inevitable fallout. If she was freefalling before then this is her hitting the ground. And he's gone he's gone he's-)
Making the distinction between the two is easy; it's whatever decisions bought her to this moment, staring down the barrel of a gun held in the too-small hands of the girl she should've killed only days ago.
Natasha's green eyes are glazed over in a way Peggy has never seen; expressionless, unseeing, every bit the young assassin the Russians had been trying to forge her into. It's terrifying, but not in the way it should be.
It's terrifying, because despite the obvious threat to her life, there's not a fiber in Peggy's body that is prepared to kill the girl in front of her. There's anger for sure, but it's not directed towards Natasha. Rather, it's for the many people that have orchestrated this confrontation.
Leviathan… The Red Room...Peggy herself too, because God knows, she's played a horribly large role in why Natasha's in this situation now, back in the manipulative hands of the monsters who'd had her before- the very ones Peggy had told her she was safe from.
Just how many broken promises will she have made before the night is over? Too many to count, apparently. Too many to be any semblance of acceptable.
"Natasha," Peggy says. It's a reminder, of all her confessed hopes and fears, of all that name represents.
("I'd liked to be Natasha. Natasha… not Natalia")
Peggy's hands are held up in surrender, completely weaponless and ultimately at the mercy of this girl. She can't outrun a bullet, not in a thousand years. If Natasha wants her dead, she's dead.
"I am loyal to mother Russia," Natasha finally replies, her voice small, almost carried away in the brisk wind that's blowing through.
Peggy sees her finger tighten on the trigger, and her heart stutters, knowing full well the deadly speed the girl possesses.
She'd seen it herself, after all.
Before.
(-another girl seemingly flashes into existence in a blur of red hair, throwing a kick that catches Peggy at her wrist-)
She's just hoping they'll both live long enough to see an After.
Thank you for giving this a read! It's a super short prologue, but I needed a hook before going back to the Iron Ceiling episode. First chapter should be up really soon :) If you could please leave a review letting me know any thoughts you have so far, it'd be amazing, but thank you regardless for reading!
-F