Chapter Text
It's finally the day you've been working for. Your first game. You joined the Westview Woods just a week ago. L/N, #24. The first thing that your teammates told you is that they have an intense rivalry with the Eastview Eagles. They haven't been able to win a game against them in years, and Coach Stark thinks you're going to be the saving grace of the team.
So much, in fact, that he put you up to bat right away. You step up to the home plate, holding your bat up and locking eyes with the pitcher. Romanoff, #7. Red hair, green eyes, an insufferable smirk. You wonder for a moment if you know her. It felt like she was looking right through you into your mind.
She winks. Your brain short-circuits. She throws the first pitch, taking advantage of your distraction. You jolt back into reality just in time, hitting the ball perfectly. Instinct takes over. You run to first base. The ball goes up, up, up... and flies completely out of the stadium. A home run. You hit a home run on the first pitch. You don't process it for a moment, until you hear Coach Stark yelling.
"Come on, L/N! It's a home run!"
You run all four bases, getting back to home plate. When you glance back, the pitcher -- Romanoff -- is glaring at you, that insufferable smirk gone. You go down to where your teammates are waiting, and they all cheer. Once the cheering dies down, one of your teammates -- Wanda Maximoff, the best batter on the team -- walks up to you.
"Y/N, do you know who that was?"
You tilt your head. "No..? Should I?"
Wanda's eyes widen. "That was Natasha Romanoff! Nobody's ever hit a home run against her!"
"That was Natasha Romanoff?" You're baffled. Natasha Romanoff is your idol. She's the best pitcher in the league. Your room is covered in posters of her, and you have at least 5 of her baseball cards. You even have a signed ball from her from when she first joined the league! "But.. She seemed so snobby? I always imagined that she'd be nicer."
"Oh, no, she's an absolute dick. But you have to admit, she's good at what she does. Go drink some water, I'm sure you'll be back out soon with a bat like that."
You nod, grabbing your water bottle and high-fiving a few of your teammates as you pass them.
You don't pitch during the first inning, which is okay with you, since you're better at batting. The first inning's score is 2-1, the Woods winning. At the start of the second inning, Coach Stark puts you in right after Wanda struck out. Natasha is still the pitcher.
She's much more subdued and focused, watching you carefully as you step up to bat. She pitches. You swing. And...
You miss. The catcher catches the ball, tossing it back to Natasha. Strike 1. She pitches again. The ball flies closer. You swing. The ball hits you in the cheek. You fall back, hitting the ground with a thud. The stadium is silent. Pain blooms across your cheek.
A whistle is blown. Medics show up. Where did they come from? The medics assess your face, checking for damage. After a moment, one of the medics speaks.
"Mild concussion. No hospital, but she's definitely out of the game."
'Definitely out of the game'. The medics help you up, carrying you down the steps to where your teammates are. They lay you down on a bench, putting a pillow under your head. You faintly hear Natasha being called out of the game. Someone sits down next to you. Your eyes don't open.
"You need some ice?" It's not Wanda's voice. You open your eyes, looking up at the figure above you. Natasha.
"Why are you down here? Go with your own team." You close your eyes again. Without asking, she puts a cold pack on your cheek, a large bruise already forming. You jump at the sudden coldness, before relaxing as it numbs the pain. "..Thanks," you say reluctantly. You shift, moving the cold pack slightly to cover the bruise better.
She doesn't answer your question. She gets up and leaves. Before you know it, you drift into a dreamless sleep, although you hear Natasha's voice a few times during your nap.