summary: Natasha was trained to be cold, and it took her months for her to warm up to Clint and Steve. She never thought she would befriend this girl so fast.

rating: PG

author's notes: I just wanted to say Happy National Women's Month! As a female, I guess I just wanted to write something short for this month, and who better to write about than my favorite female Marvel characters! I really wished they interacted in the movies more, but anyways, enjoy and reviews are always appreciated ;)

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~ someone to lean on ~

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Natasha wipes a few strands of hair from her face and lets out a quick breath. They've been at it for hours, and she has the urge to lean over and rest her hands against her knees, but she can go a few more rounds. Wanda, on the other hand looks as if she's about ready to collapse, yet she looks no less determined than Natasha.

She has to admit, the girl is talented. She doesn't even need to use her powers to challenge her; the tactics Hydra engraved in her (and the ones she may have gained on her own) are impressive, and after having to work with new Shield recruits, she's forgotten what it's like sparring with someone who can actually pose as an equal combatant. The girl almost managed to beat her with blade work (they came to a draw) and her marksmanship is a little rusty, but no less admirable.

"You ready to go again?" Natasha asks, and she already has her answer when a small grin spreads across Wanda's face.

"Of course," she replies, and readies herself in a stance that, to anyone untrained, can be confused with surrender. But Natasha knows better.

She launches herself at her, and the girl side steps and parries with a pace that doesn't show any of her previous exhaustion. Another thing about her technique is that she never strikes first. It's a smart strategy that only Hydra is capable of teaching, as she uses evasion to tire out her opponent, but it also allows her to study who she's fighting so she can find a way to use their strength against them.

A few minutes in and they're both just laying on the floor of the training room, breathing harder than before. Natasha turns her head towards Wanda and asks, "Can you stand?"

"Yeah," she responds. "I just really don't want to."

The redhead lets out a laugh that sort of echoes across the room. She drags up one leg and shifts until she's sitting up. Her bones ache in protest as she stands and walks over to her companion that has her arm draped across her face. "I don't know about you," she starts, and Wanda's arm shifts so that her emerald eyes peek upwards at Natasha. "But I could use a break." The assassin extends a hand and Wanda raises her eyebrows slightly. Natasha isn't really that surprised; ever since the encounter at the junkyard in Africa with Ultron, and the red-tinged ghosts of buried memories, she's been a little hesitant in dealing with the brunette and her powers (as she should be, as it's only been a week and maybe that's why she insisted on starting with hand to hand combat first).

But she has to admit: training with the girl has been pretty fun; a word she can't remember using in terms of fighting in a long time. Steve said to give it a shot and she's glad that she did. It's nice to have a female on the team, especially someone with shared life experiences.

Wanda takes her offered hand and she pulls her to her feet. Natasha watches as she wipes the beads of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, and rubs at her shoulder where the redhead struck her a little too hard. This makes the ache in her ribs pulse slightly, where the witch elbowed her at an equally painful strength.

"You weren't going easy, were you Natasha," the brunette says, and she can't help but smirk.

"Hey, you weren't going easy with the knives, even if they were foam. I figured I'd repay you."

Wanda gives her a playful glare, and she doesn't remember the last time anyone (other than Clint, Steve and Tony, of course) has been this relaxed around her despite knowing her for a short time.

"Come on, kid," she says amusedly, and the girl scrunches her nose in disgust at the nickname. "There's this place two blocks down I wanted to check out, and we should go before we move to the new facility." Wanda nods her head as they walk out of the training room, and Natasha thinks she might have found a new friend.

Her mind still wanders towards Bruce sometimes, just as it does now. It's been three weeks, and still, her heart tugs at her chest violently at the thought of him being willing to run away with her, and at the thought of her opening herself up just for him to leave without saying much of a goodbye. She slowly tries to build up her cracked walls that she'd been willing to break down, for him.

Natasha sits with her back against the door of her room, staring at the opposite wall as she drags her fingernails across the dark brown carpet. She tries not to ruin the thing, but her frustration needs to be released on something. Her legs are drawn up to her chest and with all the memories clashing and spiraling, she buries her head into her knees.

- his lips slant gently against hers after all the secrets she's just told him, and her heart soars as she realizes he doesn't care what they made her into; he loves her despite everything, despite being a monster and all the red in her ledger -

She wonders sometimes why he left; she wonders if it's because of her, of something she did or said, or because of the person she is.

- he gives her a small, concerned smile as he asks if she's okay. She grips at the bars of her cell, and she has the urge to wrap her arms around him for coming for her; for making her feel worth it -

There's a gentle knock on the door that startles Natasha out of her self-loathing. She lifts her head, jumps up quickly, and opens the door. She expects it to be Steve or Sam, as they're the usual ones to come when she feels like this.

But she's pleasantly surprised to see Wanda's smiling face with two bags of Chinese food (her favorite takeout that almost everybody knows of). Natasha just stands there, frozen with her mouth agape a little and she knows her surprise is clear. This seems to make the brunette grin wider.

"So… I brought food," she says. "You pick the movie?" A smirk appears on Natasha's face and she pulls the girl in before closing the door.

They end up watching The Hunger Games series (maybe because they miss Clint and his idiocy so much) and they're sprawled out on Natasha's bed with glasses across their faces, enjoying the 3-D option Tony managed to set on the television. They make it through half of the second movie before they run out of food and Wanda orders more, this time from an Indian restaurant (Natasha's second favorite). About an hour ago, Steve and Tony came up and brought them loads of popcorn - the movie theater kind - and Natasha sends a silent thanks to both of them, as she doesn't think she can handle another hour wait for their food to arrive.

Natasha breaks the comfortable silence (other than the sound of the movie) after a while. "Spasibo tebe za etot," she says softly, and Wanda turns her head in her direction, eyes wide yet grateful at her choice of language.

"Konechno," she replies after a few seconds, and Natasha closes her eyes. It's been a long time since she heard her native tongue from a friend.

"Is it my fault?" she asks suddenly. "That he felt the need to run?" She feels Wanda sit up and Natasha does the same. The redhead pauses the movie and removes her glasses; if Wanda is surprised at her question, she doesn't show it.

"Nat," she starts, and the assassin leans her head against the wall next to the bed. "You know it's not your fault. He just… needs time. If he really loves you, he'll come back."

"But I pressured him into a relationship he wasn't ready for, or didn't want to be in," Natasha protests and as much as she didn't want to be talking about this, she knows she has to.

"He wants to protect you, Nat. He doesn't want to see you hurt, and maybe leaving wasn't the best way to express that, but he thinks he's a danger to you." The redhead shakes her head and she tries to dislodge the rock in her throat.

"But I don't care about the danger," she says after a few beats of silence. "I care about him. I've survived through way worse, and he knows it."

"He loves you, Natasha."

The redhead shrugs and Wanda reaches over to place a hand over hers. "We all have blood on our hands, and he wouldn't leave because of yours."

Natasha nods and swipes at the corners of her eyes to prevent the presence of tears. She leans in and allows Wanda to wrap her arms around her as she puts her glasses back on her face and plays the movie.

"Spasibo vas," she whispers again, and by the third movie, they've both fallen asleep with an overwhelming amount of popcorn on their clothes and somehow in their hair.

The next morning, it's no surprise that they ignore the boys (and excessively beat them in training) for eating their Indian food.

Natasha is no stranger to nightmares.

She remembers having to wake up to Clint leaning over her, listening to his whispered reassurances until she was lucid enough to focus.

She is no stranger to helping deal with nightmares either; when living with a team (more like a family) that's burdened with PTSD, nightmares are bound to happen more often than not.

But no matter how many times she has dealt with them, fear still manages to claw its way up her skin as she hears Wanda gasp desperately for air, her fingers gripping Natasha's forearm with a strength that she knows will leave a bruise later, but she doesn't care.

She scrambles to pause the television as she feels her friend's trembling increase, and she gently shakes the brunette awake. Her scrunched eyes fly open, and for a moment, Natasha can see a tinge of red along the corners of her eyes, waiting to flood the rest of her pupils in the blood color of energy. The assassin's fists clench in anticipation, her nails digging into the flesh of her palm before she sees the girl blink rapidly as her eyes dart around the room, trying to reign her power in.

Natasha brings her hands to the side of her face, just as Clint always does, and a hand grasps Natasha's wrist as unfocused eyes latch onto her own. The older woman doesn't say anything, not yet; she knows that when the girl is calm enough, she will break the silence, so she waits.

The only thing that can be heard is their breathing; Wanda's erratic and uneven, Natasha's hushed, and almost soundless.

After a few minutes of lingering stillness, Wanda shifts so that she withdraws slightly from Natasha's grasp, but not completely. She knows the girl is tactile, probably even more so than before the loss of her brother, so she doesn't pull her hands away.

"Mne zhal'," she says softly, a haunted look in her normally bright eyes. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Natasha brushes a few strands of her brown locks from her face, and Wanda leans into her touch. "You didn't," the redhead reassures, and the girl averts her gaze to the mattress; Natasha lifts her chin up gently to draw her attention, and her heart tugs at her chest as she watches the brunette try to mask her emotions. Usually she's rather good at it, but now…

"What did you see?"

She feels Wanda's grip tighten. "Hydra," the girl whispers and Natasha already knows what she saw: it's everything she sees in her own dreams about KGB, everything she wishes to keep hidden, buried underneath the rubble of her past.

Natasha gently pulls her towards her, and the girl rests her head in the redhead's lap as she leans her own against the wall; the older woman runs her fingers through Wanda's hair, and they talk about anything other than the demons that plague their minds, in hopes of forgetting they are there.

She hears Barnes say Steve's name in confusion (and a hint of fear), and when she looks, her friend is kneeling next to a pile of ash. Natasha darts her eyes around the thick forests, and her blood runs deathly cold as she watches T'Challa disintegrate and the general look around in horror.

No, she thinks, as she forces herself to stand despite her legs' protests. If Thanos won, then he must've gotten the stone, which means Wanda…

Natasha takes a breath. She has to be optimistic. But how can she be optimistic at the end of the world?

Her heart pounds in her chest and she runs; she runs until her legs abruptly stop when she reaches her friends, and her mouth hangs open at the sight of Vision, grey and devoid of any life. She expects to hear weeping; crying, screaming, anything. But all she hears is silence, and it's much worse.

Natasha sees another small pile of ash next to Vision's lifeless body, and wraps an arm around herself, her eyes betraying all the pain, anger, and overwhelming loss that's threatening to drown her.

"Byt' ostorozhno," the girl, who was more like a woman had told her before Thanos' arrival, and Natasha had given her a smile before running off to the front lines of defense.

Tears threaten to run down her cheeks for the first time in… a long time, and her heart aches as she realizes that she didn't even get to say goodbye.

She stands next to Steve, with Clint and Scott behind her and she can't say she hates the uniforms they made (they're pretty badass). After years of waiting, she finally has a purpose again, and she intends to bring her family back together.

And to bring her friend, who's more of a little sister, back to where she belongs.

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fin

translations: Spasibo tebe za etot ~ thank you for this.

Konechno ~ of course.

Spasibo vas ~ thank you.

Mne zhal' ~ i'm sorry.

Byt' ostorozhno ~ be careful.

(i used google translate, so please forgive me if anything is incorrect. the language is russian by the way. hope you enjoyed!)

(i also added a bit of the new Endgame trailer in, but it's not much of a spoiler if you didn't watch it. If you didn't, go watch it! you won't be disappointed.)