❝You're awfully sure of yourself, agent.❞

♡₊˚ ⴵ・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Aurora

When I regained consciousness, the first thing I did was open my eyes. The world spun and I could hardly make out where I was. After a few seconds, the world finally came to a standstill. I tried to sit up, only to realise my wrists were cuffed to the mattress I was laid on. I pulled myself as best as I could into a sitting position, and looked around. I was in a cell with nothing in except the bed I was on and a small table bolted to the wall and a chair. The cell door was glass - yet I expected it to be bulletproof and probably unbreakable. I groaned quietly as my gaze landed on the small S.H.I.E.L.D logo in the top corner of the cell. Turning my attention back to the cuffs, I tried my best to shuffle my wrist out of the foam.

"It's not much of an achievement to get out of those," a cold voice made my head turn to the glass.

On the outside, was the S.H.I.E.L.D agent I had fought in the alley. The one with the copper red waves and emerald eyes. I watched her with a steady, stoic gaze as she spoke.

"S.H.I.E.L.D wondered what had happened to you, Agent Eriksson," the woman said, crossing her arms as she stood in front of the glass. "You're a legend here."

My gaze didn't flicker at I continued to watch her.

"Silent treatment, huh?" the woman let out a small laugh. "Hardly surprising. All of S.H.I.E.L.D's prisoners either give us the silent treatment or make empty threats."

I tilted my head to the side slightly, faking interest.

"You won't be getting any special treatment just because you used to be a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. We'll break you," the redhead continued, her voice sounding sure.

"You're awfully sure of yourself, agent," I told her calmly.

"You know how it is," she replied with a shrug of one shoulder. "We have to be. Otherwise we never get anything done."

"We?" I inquired. "Are you confused, agent?"

"What would I be confused about Eriksson?"

"You act as if I would return to S.H.I.E.L.D."

"And you wouldn't?"

No you wouldn't. Yes I would. No you wouldn't. You are loyal to me. No I'm not. I'm free. You're trapped. I'm free. You're free from them. I'm trapped by them. You're free. I'm trapped by you.

"No," I denied, equally as calmly as at the start, returning to the cuffs.

Slipping my wrists out of them, I turned my body around to face the woman outside the cell. She was watching me silently, green eyes mildly narrowed.

"How about we play a game?" she inquired suddenly.

A game? Hiding my confusion, I just asked, "Like what? Torture the prisoner?"

With mild amusement in her voice, the agent replied, "We don't have the authority to do that. Sadly."

I let out a short, harsh laugh.

"Honestly, you have no idea of how to interrogate," I told her, making eye contact.

I was met with her cold gaze.

"Trust me, I do. You're just a tough nut to crack."

I watched as the agent pulled up a chair outside the glass and sat down, before watching me carefully for a few seconds.

"The game... I ask you a question, you get to ask me one," she suggested. "You first."

Mildly taken aback by her offer, I blinked a couple of times before inquiring, "Who are you?"

"Agent Natasha Romanoff. That's just Agent Romanoff to you," she replied swiftly, before questioning me. "Does your employer have a grudge against S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"That is something I can't disclose."

"Why?"

"My turn," I reminded her.

I smirked when I caught the look of frustration that momentarily flashed over her face.

"How did you come to know where I would be?"

"Your targets," Agent Romanoff replied. "Which is something I'll ask about later. Why can't you disclose the information?"

"Because I don't know," I lied with a shake of my head. "I'm not entitled to such information."

"We'll find out," Agent Romanoff assured me with an icy nod. "Your turn."

"Are you Fury's pet?"

"What?"

"Are you Fury's coveted agent? Because you're too good to have been simply trained by S.H.I.E.L.D."

Romanoff's eyes narrowed, and I watched her carefully.

"I may be more skilled than many agents here, but I'm not any more special to him than any other agent."

I could tell this was a lie by the way her lips twitched ever so slightly, which she covered up by gliding her tongue over her lips briefly.

"My turn," she continued. "Is Dreykov dead?"

"What?" I snapped.

My head suddenly began to spin with thoughts. Dreykov? Of course he wasn't dead! He escaped from a bombing in Budapest by an ex-widow. An ex-widow. How would-?

"Natalia," I whispered. "Romanova."

The agent couldn't hide the shock in her eyes.

"You're the widow who tried to kill Dreykov."

She stayed silent.

"You're the widow who went rogue. Dreykov's favourite. His weapon. You were a legend there," I told her in slight awe.

I was sat right in front (yes, in a cell, but it makes no real difference) of the widow who was rumoured to be the best of the best.

You're the best. You're perfect.
You're the  best. You're perfect.
You're the best. You're perfect.
You're the best. You're perfect.
You're perfect.
You're better than her. My perfect weapon.

A sudden urge to kill her overrided my brain, and I had to relax the muscles that were instinctively trying to tense.

"What I did or didn't do to Dreykov isn't my problem right now. I can go back and kill him later," she told me with a shrug.

Barely hearing her words, I dropped my head so she couldn't really see my face, letting my hair hang over my face.

"It hurts..." I whispered in a shaky voice. "It really hurts."

I heard Natalia ask in a slightly sharp tone, "What?"

"I can't... I can't think," I told her shakily, picking up my breathing. "I can't feel... I need to feel something... Please, come in. I-I need to feel something."

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

"Give me a hug or hold my hand or touch my shoulder... Please, I feel so overwhelmed..."

"Eriksson, you'd better not be faking that," she warned.

"I-I'm not," I lied, purposefully stuttering.

After a couple of moments, I heard a loud beep from the cell door.