"But you people do not understand me,
And I am afraid you never will."
- Vincent Van Gogh, "The Complete Letters"

NADINE

It felt like a lifetime had passed since she last stepped foot in Maricota. All of her wounds except her knee had fully healed, so the doctors didn't think it was necessary to keep her, save for more testing. T'Challa shut the idea down, though, assuring that, since she wasn't Wakandan, they couldn't force her to stay and that she was free to go. She didn't know what to make of the Wakandan king, but she was grateful that he didn't try to lock her away in order to use her as a lab experiment. She wouldn't have survived another session, if she was being honest with herself.

After her release, Nadine decided she wanted to retreat to the one place where there was still some lingering familiarity. Bucky obliged with no protests; she was sure it was because he also wanted to take a break. He'd been so attentive with her, Nadine thought he deserved to rest as well.

Bucky opened the door, and Nadine stood at the doorway to take it all in. Emilia and Kaia had set off to find Dante. Taj was back at Wakanda receiving treatment, and Fong requested to stay with him for the time being. Selene, though she constantly messaged her to check on her wellbeing, hadn't been to Maricota for years. Her team was separated, gone to deal with other things. This wasn't the first time, of course, but it certainly felt heavier than the other ones.

Steve and Sam came into view, both smiling awkwardly. Clearly, they were trying to make the situation better than it was. "Hey, Nadine," Sam said, immediately enveloping her in a hug. Nadine hesitated for a second, before fully wrapping her arms around him. It was the first time that Sam had ever done more than just place his arm over her shoulders, but it was comforting. Something about his warmth and genuine concern made it easy to feel grateful for his gesture.

After a second or two, she pulled back, giving him a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks, Sam."

"Let me help," Steve said. He took one of the bags from Bucky -who definitely didn't need the help, but appreciated it regardless- and it was clear that he was eager to make himself useful.

"Thanks," Bucky replied. "Natasha not with you?"

Steve motioned to the stairs. "She's upstairs. She took it upon herself to check the house for bugs."

At the mention of Natasha, Nadine made her way to the stairs. She couldn't fully grasp why, but it unnerved her that Natasha was checking the house. Not because of her skill, but because of the lack of privacy it presented.

Sure enough, after quickly making her way to the second floor, Natasha greeted her at her doorway. She smiled softly at Nadine. "Hey." 

"What are you doing here?" she asked, a wary tone in her voice as she walked past Natasha and entered her room. The space was more organized than she left it. Did she clean Nadine's room? It irritated her to think that she was snooping through her stuff. "Aren't you supposed to be saving the world?"

"I can do more than one thing. Plus, I wanted to see how you were doing. I wouldn't miss you coming back into the real world." If Natasha noticed Nadine's apprehension, she chose to ignore it, simply choosing to follow her into her room.

Nadine stayed quiet. Her eyes glanced at Bucky, who'd walked into the room. Frankly, she wasn't sure if she believed what Natasha said. She never was sure, to be honest. Her relationship with Natasha had always felt transactional, and for the most part, she'd been fine with it. But recently, suspicion had been crawling in the back of her head, and the Widow was right at the center of all of it.

"Your room is clean, by the way," Natasha said, a clear attempt to interrupt the tense silence.

"Of dust, or spyware?"

Bucky plopped onto her bed, smiling slightly at her question. "Both, but mostly dust."

"Great," Nadine muttered, unamused by his attempt at a joke and irritated with herself. She didn't even think about the risk of coming back to Maricota. Dante was still out there and he could have easily compromised the whole place. She'd have to make a mental note to figure out what to do with that. Maybe vacate the place for a while was the best decision, though moving everything would be incredibly-

"-Nadine." Natasha was watching her, concerned. Everyone looking at her like a broken bird was starting to get old. "I asked if you needed anything."

She scoffed, turning her head towards the window. The day was cloudy and felt lightly depressing. "Nothing that'll give me answers."

As the words escaped her, Nadine shut her eyes in regret. She knew what was coming.

"What answers, Nadine?" Natasha asked, and though Nadine had her eyes closed, she could feel the woman's watchful gaze on her. It unnerved her, for some reason. She pondered over whether to just ask her upfront. Nadine didn't know how things would shift between them once she opened that box. She also wasn't sure whether Natasha would be honest with her.

And would the answer be worth it?

She blew out a breath, opening her eyes again to look at the landscape before her, before she turned to look at Natasha steadily. "What was Jameson's connection to the Red Room?"

Bucky had shifted. Though her back was turned to him, she could hear when he sat up on the bed, no longer pretending like he wasn't paying attention. Natasha's whole demeanor changed. For a moment, her eyes widened, gaping at her like a deer in headlights, but she regained her composure quickly. "What do you mean?" she asked, cautious in her wording.

"Jameson. Red Room. Dreykov." Nadine repeated through grit teeth. "You're one of the smartest people I know, Natasha. Don't play dumb with me."

"I'm not," Natasha replied swiftly. It was clear she was trying to maintain control of the conversation. "I want to know where this is coming from."

"Did you use me to take down Jameson because you knew he was connected to the Red Room?" Nadine decided to stop skating around the subject. She wanted to confirm what deep down she'd known to be true. Natasha was quiet, and Nadine stepped forward to regain her attention. "Natasha, did you know I was sent to kill you?"

The woman shifted her gaze for the first time since Nadine started the conversation. She settled on the view, seemingly pondering how to respond. It didn't matter, though, because her silence was answer enough.

Natasha knew. She knew everything.

"I was investigating a lead to Dreykov," Natasha started, her stoic demeanor working overtime to keep her voice level. "I noticed secret meetings he'd held in the States, tracing back to the early nineties and two-thousands. So I kept digging, until one day, Clint tells me he heard from a source that someone was trying to kill me. Someone connected to Jameson."

Nadine waited for her to continue. She didn't want to interrupt now, not when she was finally close to understanding everything. Natasha sighed, "I didn't know it was you until you actually tried. I'd settled that anyone who attempted to kill me would die, until France."

Nadine felt something wet fall onto her crossed arms, and she realized she was crying. She remembered that day vividly. Paris, France. Jameson had demanded for proof of death, so she needed it to be close range. She'd tracked where Natasha was staying and snuck into the hotel room as a housekeeper. She attacked. They fought. Natasha won, but Nadine had managed to make her bleed just a bit. Natasha called her a petulant child with potential, which vexed her tremendously.

She was right, she had been a petulant child. But now, Nadine was an adult that remembered everything. It was the day that her life changed forever. "You called me a child and said I could be better."

Natasha nodded in agreement. "I meant it. You cut my arm with a steak knife."

"But you mostly did it for the opportunity I presented for you."

Natasha looked away. She was blinking back tears of her own. She no longer was hiding behind a cool facade. Shame, shame was now evident all over her face. "I wanted to take Dreykov down by any means necessary, and one of the ways I was going to do that was killing Jameson. So, yes, I saw the opportunity, and took it."

And there it was. Confirmation.

Nadine wiped her face. She didn't understand why it felt like a gut punch. This wasn't a new theory. She always assumed that her freedom had been a small consequence of Natasha's general plan. So why did it hurt as if she was now finding out? She didn't understand, but her stomach was in knots.

"Well," Nadine started, her tone just full of resignation. "Good to know I was just bait for you."

"Dina," Bucky called, careful not to sound anything other than neutral. He was no longer sitting comfortably on the bed. His feet were planted firmly on the ground and he was leaning his elbows on his knees, eyes trained on them both. "You can't be surprised. That was her job."

"Was it?" she retorted. "Or was it just her personal vendetta?"

"Now you're being a hypocrite," Natasha retaliated. Gone was the regret. She now looked annoyed, irritated even. "You've had personal vendettas yourself, Nadine."

Nadine shrugged, trying to seem indifferent, though she knew it wasn't convincing. "I learned from the best."

"This isn't fair. Are you seriously angry for something that happened years ago?"

Nadine rubbed her eyes. Her head was pounding relentlessly. Why was she angry about this? She didn't understand. "I don't know... I don't know how to feel."

"Dina," Bucky called again. His brows furrowed deeply as he looked at her. He was trying to make sense of what was going through her head. "Where is this coming from?"

"I don't know," she repeated, this time more forcefully. Her palms were sweating. "I don't understand."

"Yes, you do," Natasha insisted. Her tone wasn't as nice as Bucky's, which just worsened the agitation growing inside of her. "Stop lying."

Nadine glared at her. Natasha's steely gaze didn't falter. "I'm not lying."

"You're lying," Natasha said. She was berating her, like Nadine was that petulant child all over again. "To me, to Bucky, there's a reason you asked and why you're upset with my answer."

"Just stop." Nadine tried to turn away from her, but Natasha wasn't having it. She quickly walked closer to her, making Nadine back away defensively. "Stop, Natasha."

Natasha glared at her. "No. Answer me: Why are you upset?"

"Because he was right!"

The floor trembled. The mirror on her vanity cracked, which made everyone jump. Bucky stood up, his hands were placed in front of him defensively. Natasha mimicked his stance, protective and waiting for what was coming next.

Nadine ignored them, making her way towards the mirror. Her eyes glowed orange.

He was right.

She closed them shut, her fists tightening, willing herself to calm down. She finally understood. She was angry, because Jameson was right. He was right about her accident, he was right about Natasha, and he was right about Nadine. All this anger that was inside of her was a ticking time bomb.

"Nadine..." Bucky called to her, his tone level and soft. If he was worried, he was being extremely careful not show it right now. "Who was right?"

"He was right about her." Tears fell freely onto the wooden vanity. She couldn't keep it together anymore. "And if he was right about her, he's right about me. And I don't... I-I can't deal with that."

Bucky was standing next to her now. She couldn't look at him. "Draga mea, you need tell us right now. We want to help, but we don't know how because you won't tell us who did this to you. Please."

She didn't know if it was Bucky's pleading or her resolution, but she finally accepted it. He was right, Nadine needed to tell them. She swallowed hard in an attempt to clear her throat, to no avail. "It was Jameson," she said.

Bucky's hand left her shoulder, and she heard Natasha choke on her breath. Silence enveloped them for an excruciatingly uncomfortable minute. She lifted her head to finally look at them. Natasha was shell-shocked, while Bucky -whom had never met the ghoul that haunted Nadine's past- stared at her in disbelief. She knew what he was thinking. Jameson was dead. Nadine killed him. This, this made no sense. And yet, here they were.

Nadine blew out a breath, straightening herself as she faced them fully. "Jameson is alive, thanks to the sphere. He has it, and he's not going to stop until he reclaims all that he lost. Including me."

__________________________________

END OF BOOK 1

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A/N: Holy shit, it's done.

It's finally done. That is INSANE

DERANGED.

I can't believe I found the will to finish this story.

I never thought I'd find the will to finish it.

Thank you so much if you made it this far. I hope you enjoyed this series.

Will I be making a sequel? Possibly, I don't know. I have a good portion of it done, but I'm in such a different time in my life than I was when I started this story. I've lived so many facets that I fear it may not be genuine. I don't know, we'll see.

In the meantime, thank you so much for reading. This story will live forever in my heart, and the ghosts (I jokingly call them that) will always inspire me to create.

With love,

N.