If I pull the trigger, will it kill me too?
Natasha had long ago abandoned the belief that her bad luck would pass with a day, week, month or even year. There had been periods of her life before when it was just one thing after another but never like this. Surprisingly, she was entirely intact, albeit emotionally scarred but what near-death experience won't do that to a person? Even if they'd been in such positions more times than they could ever hope to keep track of. Natasha had been down before but never out. At this point, she was simply wondering if maybe it was in her best interest to stay down, if just for a breather.
Unfortunately, for her, that just wasn't in her nature. Part of what made Natasha the best was her tenacity. Sometimes her motivations changed but she was altogether opposed to giving up or giving in. It was why even in the rarest cases when she failed, she would always eventually right her wrongs.
As her loft came into a view, she let out a sigh of relief and allowed her pace to slow down if just a beat. Lately, she'd opted to walk home from HQ rather than drive as the nights were slowly becoming more bearable. The unusually warm summer did nothing for her Russian blood which wasn't vulnerable to the heat, only disapproving of it. "I know, Garth, I know." The cat's mews and meows could be heard on the other side of the door as she slid the key into each hole and went about letting herself in. Stepping inside, her lips curled into a pout as the feline immediately began to rub against her legs. "Aww, you missed me huh?" she asked, her voice going up an octave as she cooed at the kitten.
Dropping her things by the door, she picked Garth up in her arms and carried him into the kitchen. "I bet you're hungry, aren't you, big guy? We'll take care of that."
