red_room: (Manana Fizzbitch and)
Natasha Romanoff ([personal profile] red_room) wrote in [community profile] nexus_crossings 2019-03-24 04:33 pm (UTC)

I don't do that anymore.

It's all a question of who, isn't it? She still kills. She's killed today. No one she knew, no one she wants to know. But the Fallen are people, too. It's ether that stains her hands today, not the crimson of blood. They're dripping with it just as everyone else out there slicks their hands the same. Worse than Natasha's even.

Without the food, all of them will starve. All of them except Blaze. Blaze who doesn't eat, doesn't sleep. Who can take a minefield on and get back up. To a Guardian, what is Death, exactly? But there aren't many who can know of Blaze's powers. When would they have an opportunity in the Nexus to see them? There has to be another way.

And perhaps there is.

If Death is no consequence to a Guardian, if Reynard is an enemy that Blaze so eagerly speaks ill of...Natasha wipes a bit of grime away from the sight of the shock pistol in her hands and stares at the charge left in it. Reynard won't know any difference, will he?

"You take this offering." Her words are grit out through a clenched jaw. "And you leave us alone." The chance and the choice are hers. Natasha lets out a breath, steadies it until she's sure it will be calm. The spy counts the steps it takes to catch up to Blaze. She's going to wake with nightmares for months of this moment, when her right hand so practiced in ending lives raises the shock pistol to Blaze's head with such a casual grace that neither are apt to notice until it's too late.

"Trust me." Natasha tells her friend.

A shot rings out in the woods.

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