To make your pain worse, chapter 77 of the other book was their wedding...

The doctors were insanely confused as to why Katya didn't remember anything. The MRI didn't show any signs of brain damage and all the other tests came back good, no concussion either.

But that didn't change the fact that she didn't remember her own birthday, or why she could understand the Italian people in the hallway.

Through it all, she remained stable and calm, whereas Natasha had to turn away and wipe her tears when the doctors asked Katya all kinds of questions she didn't know the answers to.

''What kind of car were you driving?''

''I don't know.''

''How many kids do you have?''

''Natalia told me only about Maya, so I think one.''

''Name three close friends of yours.''

Only the shake of her head.

''On what date is your wedding anniversary?''

''I don't remember.''

''She doesn't remember anything, Clint,'' Natasha quietly sobbed when a nurse was in the bathroom, helping Katya wash and change. With a body that hurt everywhere and a broken arm, that was a difficult task to do alone. ''Not even my name. I had to tell her my name. She looked at me like I was a complete stranger. Like I haven't loved her my whole life.''

''Memory loss is temporary ninety-nine percent of the time,'' Clint answered. His friend always needed facts, things she could rely on when things were bad. ''Yes, it may take a while, but you two are so close that I have no doubt you'll be able to get through to her. But take it slow. Put yourself in her shoes.''

Defeated, she slumped down on the bed, hanging her shoulders as tears continued to blur her vision. They were a never-ending presence. ''Why does this keep happening to her, to us?''

''Life targets the strong ones.''

A little past nine AM, doctors came in to tell her that Katya could go home. Apparently, they didn't deem it necessary to tell the actual person involved, which bothered Natasha a lot, but all she had to do was sign some papers and Katya was free to go. Nothing was physically wrong with her, and the doctors couldn't do anything more to help the memory situation. There was no need to stay here.

Dragging her heavy body off the bed, Natasha took her time gathering her and Katya's small number of belongings, stuffing them in a plastic bag one of the nurses was kind enough to bring. Not much was left of the clothes her wife had worn during the crash, tears and holes adorning the fabric, covered in blood stains which didn't belong to an enemy for once.

She dumped it all in the trash can by the door, wishing to destroy every last trace of the accident as if that would allow her to forget it ever happened. The only things that remained were the phone that had been in her back pocket, her wallet, and somehow also the dainty necklace had survived. The redhead slipped the last in her pocket, wanting to keep it close.

This whole sorting and packing thing was a slow process, in the hopes that Katya was done in the bathroom soon. But it took longer than expected, so eventually, Natasha knocked on the closed door.

''It's Nat,'' she called out softly, cringing at herself. She was acting weird around Katya, very well aware of that. But how did one deal with a situation like this?

A kind of deep melancholy had rooted into her body, wondering what the use of happiness was if it kept getting destroyed like this. It was a sense of giving up, exhaustion of fighting the bad moments. One of those 'fuck, again? I don't have the energy to do this again' moments. It all simply felt very hopeless.

''Come in,'' the brunette in question answered just as softly, speaking loudly hurting her bruised chest. Simply moving to get out of the bed hurt like hell, let alone getting dressed, or even standing.

Natasha pushed the door open in confidence, only to widen her eyes and freeze. ''Oh shit, sorry.'' Katya had only been in underwear - no bra, the nurse helping her pull up a pair of sweatpants that May was kind enough to drop off this morning. Usually, the sight of a naked wife didn't bother her at all and Natasha would have happily stared, but that was no longer her place.

''You don't have to turn around. If we're married, you've seen this already,'' Katya assured when Natasha had indeed spun on her heels to give her privacy, crossing her arms over her chest.

''That doesn't give me the right to stare.''

Katya didn't feel like arguing, so she focused back on stepping into the joggers, holding onto the sink to try and balance. Subconsciously, her eye fell on the mirror above it, on all the scars on her arm and torso that she could see. The light had shone on them in the shower before, accentuating all the shiny cuts and ragged bumps, but this was the first time she saw herself completely. 

Sure, she recognized her own face, but these scars were all new to her, as were the tattoos. The latter, she really liked, and surprisingly, the former didn't invoke any disgust either. One would think she'd hate the disfigurements, but no.

''What happened to me?'' she mumbled, unsure if it was spoken to anyone or not. Her voice mostly held interest, with only a small slither of sadness laced through. Her mind went in all possible directions, trying to make sense of it. Still, Natasha tensed up and glanced over her shoulder, sorrow etched into her features as her eye, too, fell on Katya's damaged skin.

''That's a very long story.'' She muttered sadly, spinning around fully with her gaze locked onto the linoleum floor.

''Abusive relationship?'' Katya tried, but Natasha only shifted her weight from one leg to the other, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She really didn't want to explain this. ''Don't keep anything from me. I need to know if I want to remember.''

Disheartened, the redhead shook her head, eyes still trained on the floor. Her heart ached when Katya hissed and winced as the nurse pulled a tank top over her head, despite the attempts at swallowing the noises. ''I have no idea how I am going to explain your whole life to you.'' Her eyebrows knotted together permanently, they would not unravel until this was all over.

''Maybe you don't have to. Maybe if you tell me key points, the rest will come back eventually.'' Katya felt no ounce of pity for herself. No, she felt for the pained woman in the doorway whose red eyes betrayed that she'd been crying. She looked so fragile, so lonely, that an intense need to hug her overcame the brunette. The main reason she had to remember was for her.

No more words came from Natasha, who lingered awkwardly in the doorway, hoping to appear invisible. Moving would draw attention to herself, so she stayed, begging that Katya would stop with the painful questions and difficult demands. But that would be delaying the inevitable.

After another pain-filled two minutes - the nurse helping Katya in a shirt which sleeve fit around her white cast - she let out a relieved exhale, glad that part was over. Although the physical injuries, she could deal with. They hardly bothered her compared to what was happening in her head. Or, not happening.

''They said you could leave,'' Natasha said after clearing her throat awkwardly, watching Katya step into some socks. ''So, if you want to...'' She'd have completely understood if she had her doubts of coming 'home' with her. But without hesitation, she nodded.

''Yes, please. I hate hospitals.'' Her brows furrowed, stopping to think. ''I think. Do I hate hospitals? It feels like I hate hospitals.''

Amusement flashed across Natasha's face, but it was gone quickly. ''Yes, you do.'' She could feel the long torn-down walls build back up in front of her wife, the person she used to trust most, but now knew absolutely nothing about her. She didn't want to create a distance, but that deep-rooted instinct to protect herself was stronger, already starting the process.

Nevertheless, she tied Katya's boots for her and helped her off the bed afterwards, grabbing their bag of stuff before leaving this bone-chilling place behind. Katya had a hard time walking, taking four times as long to get down a hall than it normally would. Even the soles of her feet hurt, but she had refused to sit in the wheelchair.

Stiffly, like a grandma of ninety years old, she stumbled down to the parking garage, her lip between her teeth to smother the grunts of pain. Her short hair kept swinging into her face, obscuring her view on the smooth floor. Every step sent a painful shockwave up her spine and through her arm.

Natasha saw that she tried to hurry, hurting herself more in the process. That may or may not have to do with the awkward silence between them. ''Take your time, there's no rush,'' she reassured gently, wishing there was a way she could help. But lifting Katya's arm over her own shoulder to carry some of her weight, would only ache more.

At her words, Katya stopped in the middle of the hallway, catching her breath as she glanced to the side insecurely. ''Am I not holding you from your job or anything?'' Of course, she was already thinking about others again. Why would Natasha possibly care about a job in this moment?

''I'm the stay-at-home mom, so I have no job,'' she said, receiving a nod in return.

So they continued their way, slowly. The silence stayed though. Natasha hoped she was the only one who felt so awkward, her skin crawling as she missed Katya's usual sarcastic jokes or dry remarks about being hurt.

The brunette knew she should be more scared. Of not remembering, of this woman, of completely losing her memories and herself. But some instinct - which she did not know the origin of - kicked in and prevented her from panicking. In fact, she felt strangely calm, serene, floating outside her body even. A trauma response maybe, where it would all crash down very soon, ten times as bad?

But what was the use of panicking? That wouldn't change anything, wouldn't make anything better. If she was stressing, then Natasha was stressing, and they both would end up making each other and the situation worse.

So she let it happen. Went wherever Natasha said she had to go, accepted what she said as the truth, and trusted that it would be okay. Because this woman who was presumably her wife loved her deeply. No doubt about that. She could see it in her eyes. That kind of agony could only be caused by someone who had weaseled themselves deeply into her soul.

After the most agonizing fifteen minutes of her life, Katya stopped where Natasha stopped; next to a bright orange McLaren in the dim parking garage. She hesitated and stared, behavior that was interpreted as fear by the Russian in her company.

''If you're wary of the car, I can take it slow,'' Natasha offered. Her face muscles had been tense the entire day, brows permanently furrowed, lips pursed. But whenever Katya showed signs of pain, it worsened. Like now.

Katya's heart skipped a beat, amazed by how considerate and thoughtful her wife was. She knew absolutely nothing about Natasha, and had made some wrong assumptions based on her cold exterior. ''I don't even remember crashing, so it's probably fine,'' she answered absentmindedly. ''I was just admiring it.''

''Oh, yeah, it's yours.''

''It is?'' Her eyebrows shot up, gaping at the car with newfound affection. It truly was absolutely stunning, even with the horrible fluorescent tubes ruining the color. ''Are we rich?''

Her amazed look was adorable, but Natasha quickly pulled the door open for her to cut it off. ''Yeah, kinda.'' She cursed the low, kart-like seating when helping Katya in, seeing her face contort until her body finally relaxed in the seat. Carefully, she strapped her in, placing the plastic bag at her feet. And with her head so close to the glove box, it reminded her of something important. ''Oh, before I forget. You need to take these.''

She grabbed two pill bottles from the compartment, taking two pills from one and breaking another pill from the other bottle in half before offering them along with a bottle of water. Katya eyed them warily, obviously wanting to know what she'd stuff in her body by swallowing these. For all she knew, Natasha could be the reason for her scars and was now trying to poison her.

The redhead could seemingly read her mind, her eyes softening. ''I promise I'm not trying to drug you, but these are your usual meds and the doctors said you need to keep taking them to keep your brain levels even,'' she explained patiently, not moving to show she meant no harm and had all the patience in the world.

Katya stared at them, chewing on her lip. ''What are they for?'' It's not like she didn't trust Natasha with this, but that the idea of taking random pills didn't feel right.

''Your depression. And anxiety. And PTSD.''

Katya's eyes shot up to lock with Natasha's, the first real eye contact they'd had. Confusion and surprise was written all over her face, she knew it. Questions dizzied her brain. But Natasha's green eyes held nothing but honesty and patience - and a lot of sadness, the pills lying in her palm, giving Katya a choice here.

But the brunette didn't voice any further questions and swallowed the pills instead. They were clearly for her own good. Though it was an odd situation. What did the memory loss mean for her mental disorders? What effect did it have on her PTSD if she didn't remember the traumatic event?

Guess she'd have to see and find out for herself.

Natasha took the corners extremely slowly, careful with the G-forces when speeding up this supercar that was made for speed. It was painful and a violation, forcing this beast to drive so slow, and it was very doubtful Natasha had ever driven this slowly, considering how unaccustomed she appeared with it. But Katya really appreciated her thoughtfulness and enjoyed the sound of the engine nonetheless.

What Natasha told her before was right. She wasn't alone. And surprisingly, she didn't feel it either. Even though she was the only one who didn't remember, and even though her redheaded wife hadn't said much. That was really weird to think. Wife. She had a wife. And a gorgeous one, at that.

''What day is it?'' She asked a couple minutes in, realizing she had no idea either what year it was.

The question startled Natasha out of her head. Something Katya had already figured out about her; she was an overthinker. ''It's a Friday, so Maya is at school right now.'' It was a miracle May got her there and on time. ''She will be out at three and our friend May will pick her up and drive her home.''

''Our house in the suburbs of New York,'' Katya reminded herself, recalling the basic information she'd been told so far. These city streets were unfamiliar to her, the route unknown. She wasn't yet sure which things she remembered, but the basic information seemed to be there.

Washington D.C. was the capital of the US, the Statue of Liberty was a woman with a torch and a book in her hands, etiquette rules were still there, she could read and probably also write when given a pen. The gaps in her mind were made memories-related.

''Exactly.''

But despite her mind not remembering anything, her body did. She needed no help navigating around the house, for example. Her body knew which turns to take and which side of the bed to settle into, which gave Natasha newfound hope that everything would work out alright.

She found the house cozy, warm even. It felt homey, the wooden staircase creaking softly as feet stepped upon it. There were cozy blankets draped over the couch, lounge chair and the bed, unlit candles on the coffee table and the mantel. Nude, rich colors reigned supreme in both the living room and the master bedroom, a cream satin bedcover decorating the bed.

They got her installed in it, because her body needed all the rest it could get. Three days of bedrest, the doctor ordered. But Katya guessed she didn't want to move too much those days anyway, the pain a constant in her body. But tired, she really wasn't after seventeen hours of rest.

Natasha fluffed up the pillows before helping Katya lean back against them, a small groan escaping the brunette's lips. The bed sheets smelled fresh, Natasha insisting she change them beforehand. ''Do you want something to eat?''

''Yes, please. I'm quite hungry,'' Katya said softly, smiling at this redheaded woman who had been nothing but incredibly sweet and patient with her. So, when she came back about ten minutes later with a tray full of food, placing it on her lap, Katya made sure to thank her. ''Thank you, Nat. This looks great.''

There was a smoothie, some fruit, a sandwich, toast with jam, and what looked like freshly made orange juice. Natasha had gone all out, giving her plenty of options, options she didn't appear to be trying herself today. She kept a distance and chose to sit in the swivel chair by the desk on Katya's side of the bed, unsure on what to do and what was acceptable anymore. Crawling under the covers and cuddling like they used to, wasn't a part of that.

Her body radiated unease, managing to sit cross-legged on the squeaky leather chair, hands on her ankles as her fingers toyed with the hem of her socks. The window next to Katya's nightstand had caught her attention, slightly squinting as the sun was bright. Though she didn't actually see what happened on the other side of the glass, it was merely something to lock her eyes on as her mind drifted away.

''Aren't you eating?'' Katya frowned with concern, adjusting the fork in her non-dominant hand. The cast already bothered her to pieces. She'd feel a lot less like an invalid without it.

Natasha drew her eyes away from the window and to the bed, shaking her head. ''I'm not hungry.'' In fact, the whole situation made her nauseous.

But Katya wasn't taking no for an answer. She picked up the plate with the sandwich and held it out, a look in her eyes which challenged Natasha to defy her. It was such a strong and familiar action that it took the redhead aback, staring blankly at her face.

How could Katya not remember if everything she said and did was so typically her?

With a sigh, she accepted the offer and brought the plate close to her chest, chewing slowly and in silence. Katya nodded satisfied, picking up her fork again to eat the pieces of freshly cut fruit while her eyes wandered around the room, taking it all in like it was the first time she saw it.

It didn't hold a lot of decorations and was kept clean, but it felt personal. The desk to her left held office necessities and a laptop, a plant on the corner of it. The TV on the wall, directly across from her and above a dresser next to the door, appeared to be new and very expensive. The bathroom door was on the - from her vantage point - right wall, next to the door some pictures and planks with books.

''You got me that for Christmas,'' Natasha suddenly said when Katya's gaze had locked on to the framed picture on the nightstand. ''No idea how it ended up on your bedside table. That was years ago, on one of our rare dates. I dragged you to see the Yankees, even though we both don't understand shit of baseball.''

She tried reaching for it, but it was too painful, so Natasha shot off the chair to give a hand. Katya took in their huge dorky smiles, the excessive merchandise, the small necklace around her neck.

Wait, a necklace.

Her hand dropped the picture and shot to her bare collarbones. She swore she wore one yesterday. Where that thought came from, she had no clue. It simply popped in her head. There had been no necklace around her neck when she woke up, but she just knew she had been wearing one when she crashed. No evidence for it, but she knew.

''Where's my necklace?'' She asked, tugging her gaze away from the picture to see a completely frozen Natasha, tears gathering in her green eyes. She put her sandwich down on the desk and slid her hand into the pocket of her pants, retrieving the delicate silver chain.

Katya studied the silver hanger closely as it got placed in her palm, bringing her hand closer to her face for a better look. With her thumb, she rolled the tiny Russian doll around, the diamonds dirty but shimmering in the filtered sunlight. Did she recognize it? No. But she did guess one thing right.

''You bought this for me,'' she muttered, receiving nothing but silence. After a moment, she pulled her eyes away to find Natasha chewing on her smiling bottom lip, tears in her eyes once more. Happy tears.

''Yes, I did. On our recent trip to Russia.''

For the first time today, Katya admired her, admired how breathtakingly stunning she was. The sunlight through the window fell on her red hair, lighting it up orange and suiting her fiery personality. Her shiny green eyes were incredibly easy to look straight through, into her very soul, so very vulnerable. She had an amazingly structured face, high cheekbones, full lips, clear skin, and an amazing body.

Beautiful.

And Natasha loved her. Enough so to be completely heartbroken over losing her.

But Katya knew absolutely nothing about her. Nothing. Except that she was a stay-at-home mom and had the same kind of scars on her body. This could be one of the most successful lawyers of the country, or the daughter of some rich businessman who decided to give up the luxurious life and live small with her own family. Or she could have been a model. With those looks, it was certainly possible.

''Why don't you start with how we met?'' Katya suggested, completely clueless as to how some boring brunette as herself managed to secure a woman like this. What did she do in her life to deserve her? Must be something pretty heroic.

Instantly, Natasha's face paled. She glanced down at her hands in her lap, fiddling restlessly. ''I can't do that without explaining your youth too, and I don't know if you're ready for that.''

Right now, Katya was a blank slate, safe from all the horrors she'd been and been through. Her entire way of looking at herself and at life would change in an instant. Her traumas would be revealed, the fear and self-hatred would be back. Having to tell her that she was an assassin, killing people for a job and for money, it stung Natasha immensely.

Her instincts told her to protect Katya from it, to leave parts out, to hide her past. It didn't matter anyway, did it?

But then, honesty and righteousness came out to play. Who was she to decide which parts Katya should know? She didn't hold a veto on her life. Katya deserved to know who she was and what her life had been, also remembering what keeping secrets had led them to in the past.

''Natalia, throw it on me,'' Katya assured her gently, making a mental note that her wife was protective of her. ''I can't learn who I am without you telling me the vital parts.'' Though she was slightly afraid of what would follow because of Natasha's hesitance, it couldn't be too bad. Right?

Wrong.

She was beyond shocked by everything the redhead told her, starting at the very beginning and running up the timeline in chronological order. Red Room, HYDRA, SHIELD, the Avengers, Sokovia Accords, marriage, Dreykov - Natasha wouldn't make the mistake of keeping that a secret again - Yelena, Thanos, Maya.

Natasha's mouth ran dry of all the talking, only explaining the necessities but leaving nothing important out. After all, every little thing could trigger a breakthrough.

It was dizzying, millions of different emotions running through Katya's body. That had all really happened? She had survived all of that? Been through hell and back so many times? No wonder her body looked the way it did. No wonder she had to take those pills. No wonder Natasha was hesitant about story time.

With every sentence, Natasha's hope grew and flew. Nothing clicked in Katya's brain. Recognition didn't flicker in her eyes, her body didn't perk up.

''...and I think that's about it,'' her voice faded away, letting the words linger in the air. Her eyes dropped to her fiddling hands, lying in her lap. She'd moved to the bed before starting, sitting next to Katya's stretched out legs cross-legged.

Katya's original plan was to eat during the story, but when Natasha started with how they were stolen from their homes as babies and put into a Russian secret program for child assassins, her appetite had dissolved instantly. Don't get her wrong, she was glad Natasha didn't sugarcoat anything, but the result was that it was hard to suppress her nausea.

Blankly, she stared at the untouched food. The food that looked so tasty and she felt guilty for not eating. Natasha read her silence as pain, but that's not what was happening. There was so much information at once that it was hard to fathom. Katya felt strangely distant from it, like Natasha had explained someone else's life to her instead of her own.

''I'm sorry I had to tell you this. You struggle with your past a lot, same as me.'' Natasha reached out to touch her hand for comfort, only to retreat her own quickly, hoping Katya hadn't seen it. But she had, and it somehow stabbed her heart. ''I understand if you don't trust me, or maybe you're even scared of me now, that's also totally fine. Then I'll keep my distance. After all, I'm a stranger.''

Quickly, Katya reached out to place a hand on her knee, a gesture that made Natasha look up in surprise. It had felt so natural, if she'd done it without thinking. ''Nat, don't worry about that. You've been nothing but patient and kind. You don't look like the person you once were.'' She smiled, hoping to put her at ease.

Those mesmerizing green eyes gazed deep into her blue ones, searching, scanning, looking for something. These habits suddenly made a lot more sense, Katya knowing her wife was reading her, using her trained skills. Natasha eventually cleared her throat, glancing at the alarm clock next to the bed. She was too afraid to let herself relax yet. ''I need to settle some things with the police and the hospital, so I'm gonna be downstairs for a while. Do you need anything else?''

Katya retracted her hand, shaking her head and leaning back into the pillows. ''I'm okay.'' She didn't want to be alone, afraid of where her head would go, but she didn't want to ask Natasha to stay.

After explaining how FRIDAY worked, Natasha grabbed Katya's phone from the charger, laying it within her reach, together with the TV remote. The newest model iPhone had been retrieved from the wreck that was their car, and, surprisingly, had only two faint cracks in the screen. Katya admired the family picture set as the lock screen background.

''Call for me if you need me.''

And with that, Natasha was gone, leaving her sandwich half-eaten on the desk. She was running away. That's what it felt like, at least. Needing time for herself. And who could blame her? The woman she loved disappeared overnight.

With a deep sigh - that hurt her ribs - Katya dropped her head back, closing her eyes while her head spun with stories. Outside, it was quiet, only some birds singing, but inside her head, it was loud chaos. She dug around in her brain, prodding against that thick fog clouding her memories. No key words Natasha had told her, were enough to part her a way and let her through.

It could only be described with one word: frustrating.

''FRIDAY, can you show me pictures of my life on the TV?'' she mumbled towards the ceiling, jumping slightly when the voice answered. Had to get used to that again.

''Of course.'' The TV turned on. ''Which ones would you like to see?''

Someone tell this UI that she didn't remember her life.

''Doesn't matter.''

Picture by picture, her life flashed by. Parties, dates, friends, family - she guessed at least - a little girl with red hair which must be Maya. It all started to dizzy her more, but she pushed through. Something had to click. Something must click. A face, a building. Something had to make all her memories return.

Nothing.

With a frustrated yell, she hurled her fork through the room, immediately regretting it as pain shot through her arm, down her torso. Natasha definitely heard the noise, but the brunette couldn't care less. All the frustration had immediately left after that impromptu action, mental tiredness taking over instead, draining her body.

She refused to cry, though. She didn't deserve to be the one crying. Natasha did. Shit happens, this happened. Crying wasn't going to make anything better.

Then the question of the doctor popped in her head.

''When is mine and Natalia's wedding anniversary?'' she whispered, having no energy to talk louder. She picked up her toast and nibbled on the corner just to have something to do as she awaited the picture that would show up on screen.

Her heart skipped a beat when it did, seeing herself in a white dress, Natasha looking breathtakingly beautiful opposite her at the altar. They were smiling and crying, clearly so in love with each other.

''You got married on May 28, 2016.''

Katya almost dropped the toast. That was two days ago.

She could only imagine how badly Natasha was hurting. Her wife was no longer the person she had lived her life with, who knew everything they'd gone through, who knew her better than anyone. To her, Katya was the same person as before. To Katya, Natasha was a stranger.

But these pictures, they made her upset too. She looked so happy in them, she wanted that back. She wanted herself back. Because right now, she had no clue who she was. Yeah, a murderer apparently. But she didn't feel like one. Weren't murderers crazy, or psychopathic? Especially assassins shouldn't feel so much, should they?

No, Katya felt too normal and therefore had a hard time grasping that she had killed so many. The idea despised her, actually. She felt weirdly distanced from the person Natasha had described to her.

But this house and this life, it felt safe, familiar. Her brain didn't recognize it, but her body relaxed in this bed, relaxed around Natasha. There was no doubt she belonged here. If only she remembered.

Natasha had left the bedroom door slightly ajar in case Katya called out for her, so the brunette picked up on small bits of conversation her wife seemed to have over the phone. She sounded stressed, angry at something. Otherwise, the house was quiet, and it actually was a beautiful sunny day. Katya cursed this bedrest.

Her ears pricked when a car door slammed shut outside and Natasha went to open the front door. A glance at the clock told Katya that she'd been here for hours already - Natasha's story taking a long time - so this must be Maya getting home, going off what she'd been told about her school times.

A terrible stab of pain shot through her heart when the sound of children's crying traveled up the stairs. Maya has been really upset over it all. Poor girl. Katya felt so sorry for her. Her mom going through an accident and then not knowing who she was must be incredibly hard for an eleven-year-old to deal with.

But Maya was brave, she'd give her that. Because open cracked the bedroom door ten minutes later and in peered the adorable girl from the pictures and her phone background. Bright red hair, freckles on her nose and cheeks, her green eyes cautious and red from crying, looking a lot like Natasha. Katya saw that she wanted nothing more than to run up to her and catch her in a hug.

Her stomach sank with disappointment when the sight of Maya didn't trigger anything either.

''Hey.'' She suddenly remembered the huge bruise on her cheek. It must look terrifying. She smiled gently to try and make up for it, even though it hurt her cheeks.

But Maya didn't smile back. Her demeanor was cautious, awaiting, the doorknob in her hand as she lingered by the door for a quick escape. Her mom was here, but she wasn't here. It wasn't her mom. Still, she said, ''Hi, Mom.''

Now that, that did things to the butterflies in Katya's stomach. She clearly liked that word, serotine shooting through her veins.

She tightly gripped the food tray on her lap with her one hand, trying to place it next to her instead. It may have lifted an inch before the balance was lost and things started to slide around, threatening to topple over. Fuck this cast.

Luckily, Maya shot to her aid, throwing her own emotions aside at the first signs of Katya in need of help, lifting and placing the tray on the desk for her. Katya muttered a thank you before nodding at the spot next to her. Natasha's spot. ''Come sit with me.''

Maya copied Natasha's familiar actions of stuffing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, shaking her head sadly. ''I'll hurt you.'' She was hesitant, and did not know how to behave. Her thoughtfulness was adorable, but it pained Katya to see her so cautious, almost afraid.

''No, you won't. It's alright.''

She timidly eyed Katya's form underneath the covers, then her arm above it. ''Does your body hurt?''

''It's alright if I don't move too much. Better not make me laugh, though,'' she teased lightly to put the girl at ease, which seemed enough to push her over the edge, a blush on her cheeks.

Extremely carefully, Maya climbed onto the covers, leaning against the headboard next to her mom. The movement of the mattress forced Katya to bite her lip to smother her groans, her face scrunching up in pain, but she didn't show anything.

They sat a foot apart, side to side, neither truly sure what to say. Until suddenly, Maya burst out into sobs, curling in on herself and burying her face in her knees.

She wanted her mom back.

Katya's fragile heart broke. No, it shattered, every sob of the girl next to her causing another stab in her chest. This was by far the most painful thing so far. ''Oh, hey. It's okay. I'm still here, and I'm not going anywhere until I remember every little thing we did together, okay? I promise.'' She ignored all the pain in her body to reach across her chest to put a hand on Maya's knee. ''I'm gonna try so hard to remember. I'll try every day until I get there.''

She didn't know this girl, but she'd comfort her as if she did, as she would any child she'd see crying. To Maya, she had an obligation, a duty to come as close to the mom she used to be. For the girl's sake.

Carefully, Maya peered up, her tear-filled eyes locking onto hers. ''Promise?''

''I promise.'' Katya smiled, retracting her hand and quietly exhaling when the pain faded. ''Now, why don't you tell me more about yourself. I want to know who you are.''

Slowly, Maya lowered her knees and started telling her about her life, about the orphanage and school. Her friends, soccer. She seemed to lose herself in her stories, rambling on and on. The longer she spoke, the more she forgot about the horrible situation and just told a story. Katya smiled along and nodded, storing every piece of information in her head.

Soccer. Some guy named Peter. Reading. Drawing.

Maya even jumped up at some point to retrieve her sketchbook while the smell of amazing dinner wafted into their faces as she opened the door. All kinds of drawings came by. Animals, cars, people. But Katya swore, that in the very back of her brain, something itched at the drawing of a red rose. A tickle, in a very deep part of her mind. Though it was gone before she could grasp it, no matter how hard she fought to find it.

''Is there something with roses?'' She surprised Maya with the question. It was probably nothing, some false hope, but the girl shot up, her eyes wide.

''You have a tattoo of a rose in your neck, and Mama brought you roses for your first date. She also buys them from the supermarket for you every month.''

A happy smile grew on Katya's face, fueled by newfound hope. See, all that information was in there, but her brain couldn't access it. It needed something to push through that fog, that thick wall of fog. But what? Everything so far had turned out to be a dead end, and they'd already covered so much.

With dumb smiles, they stared at each other, Katya finding a connection with this young redhead as they did. Something bound them on a deeper level, like it did her and Natasha. It clicked, something not even a memory wipe could ruin.

A knock on the door interrupted them, and Natasha was insanely surprised to see two huge smiles greeting her. That's not at all what she'd expected to find. After all, the mood in the house was very grim. It caught her so off guard that she completely lost her train of thought, feeling herself getting flustered by Katya's smile, the one she fell in love with.

''Hey. Can I talk to Kat, please?''

Kat? Must be her nickname.

''Sure,'' Maya nodded, leaving her sketchbook on the covers and crawling off it.

''Will you set the table? Dinner is in the oven and needs twenty more minutes,'' Natasha told her when she went to pass her, getting a nod in return. When she was gone, Natasha sank onto the edge of the bed by Katya's feet. ''Sorry to bother you with the boring stuff, but the police need to know if you want to press charges. Only then can they prosecute the other driver.''

Katya furrowed her brows, the switch in topic so sudden that it took a second for her brain to make the switch too. ''What happened again?''

''He drove through red with no explanation. Because he felt like it.'' Natasha clenched and released her jaw, trying to fight the anger bubbling up in her chest. The only reason she hadn't gone into his hospital room to beat his ass, was because he was in much worse shape than Katya, letting karma take care of him. She'd ruin him in court.

Katya had to admit, her anger was hot.

Wait, what?

She cleared her throat, pushing the blush on her cheeks away. ''No health issue?'' Luckily, Natasha was too busy trying to control herself to notice how flustered Katya was.

''No. No alcohol or drugs either, just gave no shits about the red light.'' That's what he told the police, anyway.

''Then my answer is yes.'' Some good old revenge would make these injuries hurt a lot less.

Natasha nodded once, standing up from the bed. ''Good. I'll make it happen.''

''Hey, Nat?'' Katya peered past her, into the hallway, to make sure Maya wasn't close - unaware of the nickname that had slipped past her lips. Her eyes started to sparkle, her nose scrunching up cutely as she muttered, ''She's adorable.''

It must have caught Natasha off guard, because for the first time, Katya was blessed with her adorable chuckle. The butterflies in her stomach went erratic, the amused twinkle in the redhead's eyes one to dream about. She was for sure in love with this woman, even if she didn't know.

''I know. She worships you.''

Since Katya could hardly move, she got served dinner in bed, enjoying the amazing oven pasta Natasha made. Woman could cook. The brunette had requested a private evening, desperately needing a break from people, which both Natasha and Maya understood. With the bedroom door slightly ajar, she could still hear them talking and watching TV downstairs, which was enough.

Tonight, she didn't try to remember, finally allowing her brain some rest. Though while she, too, watched some TV, her brain worked in the background, processing all the information presented to her today.

Yeah, her life had been seriously messed up, but her current situation shed new light on it. New... insights. Ideas on past, present, and future. Very cheesy ideas like, did the past matter for who they were today? Did Natasha's past matter?

The answer was yes, the past definitely mattered. The earlier events of their lives had an everlasting impact on them, because some things are just installed in their deep subconscious. However, people change all the time, they stop letting those events have an impact on their choices and behavior. They choose to be better, to fight the lessons they'd been taught. And according to what Katya had seen of her wife today, that theory applied to her

Nothing she saw today, even remotely gave her a hint that Natasha was once an assassin. Her hands were so gentle, her actions so patient and loving. It didn't click. It would not click. Natasha looked like she'd never even yell at an animal. How could someone like that have ever done such cruel things?

That's what her mind tried to figure out until it spun again and her butt hurt from sitting in the same position for hours. The plan to not think tonight and relax had gone down the drain quickly. Shame, because all it brought was frustration and tension.

A bit past ten-thirty, a knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts. Katya blinked rapidly, shifting to make it look like she was all fine, and painted a smile on her face before calling out. Natasha stuck her head in carefully, braid falling forward. ''Hey.'' She tried hard to mask the heartbroken look in her eyes every time they landed on Katya, but it wasn't working. ''I wanted to head to bed, if that's okay?''

Immediately, Katya's thumb found the red button on the TV remote. ''Of course.''

Natasha momentarily retreated to flick off the light in the hallway, and then slipped into her own room, trying but failing to act casual and easy. Firstly, she did her own nighttime routine, washing her face, brushing her teeth, using the bathroom to change into pajamas, all without saying a word. Her expression was hard to read, void of grand emotions, but the actions she did were on auto pilot only.

Katya tried not to stalk her, scrolling on her phone, going through the pictures in her camera roll slowly. Though she was very aware of what her wife was doing and when, tracing her moves from the corners of her eyes. The silence wasn't uneasy, just unfamiliar and full of questions.

She looked up when Natasha stopped by the foot end of the bed in a tank top and sleep shorts. The shorts were... very short, and the tank top... very tight. The redhead probably hadn't thought of it, but Katya could feel the warmth rise to her cheeks upon noticing all that skin and those gorgeous curves.

''Do you want me to do your skincare routine?'' she asked timidly, the products in her hands. She stood there so small and insecure. In any other situation, Katya would have found it adorable, but not when that behavior came from fear.

She gave her a relieved sigh, tossing her phone aside. ''Yes, please. I feel kinda disgusting.''

Carefully, Natasha sunk onto the edge of the bed, placing the products on the covers and keeping her eyes strictly on them. Despite her offer, it didn't appear as if she really wanted to be here. So, it was a make-shift session, with wet washcloths instead of water in the sink, but she made do with what she had, because she wasn't going to heave Katya out of the bed for this.

When she noticed how Katya frowned at all the products, she started to explain what each one was for and why before applying. Her hands were gentle once more, taking her chin between her fingers like it was something extremely breakable. Katya tried desperately not to stare while Natasha worked, but it was hard with her face so close and so focused. Her lips were slightly pursed, eyes narrowed, but that didn't downplay her beauty.

''Thank you for everything today.'' Katya whispered, feeling as if she had to with their close proximity and the quietness. If it weren't for Natasha's care today, she was sure she'd feel a hundred times worse. What if nobody had been there when she woke up? Nobody to tell her who she was or where she lived. Now, she was in a safe house, her own place.

''I'm really glad you're okay.'' A weak smile pulled on Natasha's lips, until it fell. ''Well, relatively okay. I mean, you're not okay-''

Katya placed a hand on her knee, feeling her tense and relax under her palm. ''I understand. And I'm glad too.'' It could have been so much worse. A coma, for example, or a broken spine.

The movements on her skin halted, Natasha's eyes drifting off to hers. They locked, for the second time today, by the redhead's own initiative. Not because they needed to, pushed by a correctness during conversation, but because she wanted them to.

Her mind always seemed to be working to understand, to read, to determine. It was her way of controlling the situation, to feel safe, if she knew completely how it was wired. Who felt what, who did what. And now, searching Katya's eyes, she did the same. And it felt electrifying. Katya had the urge to hold her breath, feeling as if her deepest secrets were so clear to read for her wife.

Abruptly, Natasha tore her eyes away, focusing them on her hands again. She finished up quickly, standing to throw the trash away and put everything back in the bathroom, all without a word. Then, she reached for her pillow. ''I'll take the couch.''

''What?'' Katya's head shot up, too fast, her neck hurt. ''No, that's not necessary. We are married, we can sleep in the same bed. Besides, that couch looked really uncomfortable.'' She hoped that by throwing a joke in there, Natasha would change her mind. Though she still had her pillow in her arms when she answered.

''You bought that one.''

''I did?'' Her eyebrows shot up when Natasha nodded, again her expression very distant. ''But I'm serious, I'd rather not be alone tonight.''

Natasha's eyes softened, her shoulders relaxing. The guilt-tripping was very obvious, but still, she was unable to leave Katya alone if that's not what she wanted. Even though Katya was fine with sleeping alone, she didn't want to have to banish Natasha to the couch. That was nonsense and also very cruel after everything she did for her today.

With a hesitant nod, Natasha placed her pillow back and retrieved fresh pajamas for Katya. A hospital smell lingered on the shirt she wore, and it had gotten quite sweaty after the whole day in bed. This fresh one that got retrieved from the closet smelled like laundry detergent. Not overly floral - a scent Katya guessed was not suited for them - but fresh like an ocean breeze.

But she sat with the huge sleeping shirt and pants in her hand, looking from it to her cast slowly, trying to figure out how to do this with all the pain in her body. The conclusion: not.

Carefully, she peered up at Natasha. ''Ehm... help?''

A small smile flashed across Natasha's face. She dropped whatever she was doing and rounded the bed. Her hands found a resting place on her hips, cocking her head as she decided on the best way to do this. ''This is gonna hurt.'' She squinted, a pain in her voice at the thought alone.

Katya sighed, her face falling. ''I know.''

Extremely carefully, Natasha grabbed her ankles and turned her legs so they hung off the bed. It forced Katya to sit up on her own accord, putting weight on her spine and ribs. Luckily, Natasha worked fast. As fast as she could, anyway.

First, off came Katya's shirt and tank top, Natasha guiding her broken arm around and touching as little skin as possible while she did. She wasn't staring or lingering, doing the job as casually as the nurse had done, though with pain glistening in her eyes upon spotting all those bruises. Katya already felt self-conscious enough, so naked in front of this stranger.

Simply changing her top hurt like an absolute bitch. Every muscle in her body had braced for impact when that car hit, tensed up to the max, which caused all this pain on top of the already existing bruising. Curse words left her lips in a language she didn't realize she could still speak. Russian. It startled the both of them.

Katya's body slumped, panting lightly when that part was done and Natasha tugged the shirt down her stomach. ''No pants will be easiest,'' she tried, eyeing Natasha's shorts and hoping to save herself from more torture, simply tugging her sweatpants off and calling it a day.

But, to her disappointment, Natasha shook her head and reached for the loose pants. ''You'll get too cold.''

Too cold? But it was warm in the room.

Katya didn't protest, though, letting her change her pants as she swallowed more groans. Natasha knew better. Momentarily, in every case.

With the heavy pain medication wearing off during the day, Katya developed a headache. One which was bearable, but turned downright painful and pounding when she went to lay down. Sleeping in a sitting position it was. Not ideal, but there was no way she'd sleep with the feeling of someone hitting her in the head with a hammer. She didn't want to ask Natasha for painkillers either, knowing that would only make her worry more.

Neither truly looked forward to the night, not even the redhead, who hadn't slept in thirty-six hours. Lying together in silence, knowing the other was awake, felt incredibly awkward. But, night had fallen. And to keep a semi-normal life schedule, this was necessary.

''A nightlight?'' Katya frowned when Natasha flicked it on before climbing in bed herself, mindful of the movements of the mattress.

''We're both afraid of the dark,'' was her simple explanation, fluffing up her pillow and draping her long hair over it. Her voice had gone distant, almost cold, out of nowhere, which gave Katya a weird feeling. ''Goodnight.''

''Goodnight, Nat.''

Natasha flicked off the overhead light and turned her back, the covers around her waist. She lay a good distance away, on the edge of her side of the bed, knees bent. To protect herself, or to make sure no part of her accidentally touched the brunette? Maybe both. Katya could not ignore the pain shooting through her chest.

The room fell into darkness and silence. A tense silence, where one was too scared to move or breathe.

This was fruitless, they both knew. Of course, sleep wouldn't come tonight. Yet, they pretended for the other's sake. Or hoped they could forget about this day by sleeping for the rest of it.

A smokescreen.

Katya stared at the nightlight, letting the light fill her vision until it was the only thing she saw. Maybe that way, her brain would be able to ignore how her skin crawled, and how aware it was of the warm body next to hers.

But after barely ten minutes, she knew that the woman next to her had started to cry, even if she gave off no visible or audible signs. This gut feeling of hers was strong; the thought of Natasha crying over her, breaking her heart. Now, it was up to her to be there for her wife.

Without a word, she clumsily reached out and placed her hand on her shoulder. Natasha jumped before her body let go of the facade. It slumped into the mattress as all energy left her at once, literally pouring out of her eyes. Her body started to shake, small sobs leaving her lips as she fisted the pillow.

Silent tears started to run down Katya's cheeks too, every sob and sniffle another painful stab into her heart. It truly hurt to see this woman fall apart, caused by a situation neither of them could control. Powerlessness is what she guessed to be Natasha's biggest enemy. As long as there was a chance to fix a situation, she'd grasp it. But all her efforts so far ended up being fruitless.

''Do you need a hug?'' Katya whispered softly, not sure where the offer or the confidence came from. Maybe she needed one herself.

Natasha froze in surprise, glancing over her shoulder hesitantly. Her tears glistened in the light of the nightlight. This incredibly strong woman had reached her limit. ''Is that okay?''

''Yes, come here.'' Katya beckoned her closer with a soft smile.

It took some maneuvering around her broken arm, but Natasha sat up and wrapped her arms around her wife. They were both unable to relax because of the pain and awkwardness around each other, but it felt good. So good that Natasha's tears started again, though she felt lighter this time.

''Shouldn't this be the other way around? Why are you so calm?'' she sniffed, puzzled. Way too quickly, she let Katya go, putting an acceptable distance between them. Her body craved for more hugs, tighter ones, and that familiar adoring gleam in Katya's eyes that calmed her down with one look. A gleam that wasn't there anymore.

''I don't know,'' Katya muttered. ''I guess I just have faith.''

''Faith?''

''That I will get my memory back and it'll all be okay.'' Her words lingered in the air, allowing Natasha to ponder over them. She retreated into her head again, a place Katya wished to keep her out of. ''Do you maybe want to watch a movie? I slept seventeen hours yesterday so I'm really not tired.''

The relief dripped off Natasha's features, happy to dodge the awkward sleeping attempt once more. She nodded, reaching for the TV remote on her nightstand. ''What genre?'' she asked quietly, scrolling through the options. The fact that she leaned on her elbow on Katya's side and therefore leaned into her direction was a small win already.

Katya squinted at the screen. Nothing looked or sounded familiar, not a single clue which genre every movie was in. ''The Hunger Games?'' She suggested, picking a random movie whose title and cover appeared interesting.

Natasha's body stiffened at her side, making her nervous. Did she pick or say anything wrong? Natasha's wide eyes as she turned her head to gape at her, didn't give any indication either. ''That's Maya's favorite,'' she breathed. This was no accident. Sure, the movie had been on the page a couple times because they watched it so often, the algorithm kicking in, but still, there were dozens of others she could have picked.

Katya's expression mirrored hers, though to a lesser extent. Lips parted, eyes wide. ''Really? I don't even remember what it is about, but the title sounds promising.'' A smile curled on her lips when Natasha let out a disbelieving breath. ''See, we'll get there.'' She softly nudged her, pulling a weak smile and a sniffle from the redhead. ''Don't give up on me.''

Please don't give up on me.

I will never give up on you.

''I won't.''

~~~~~~~~

A/N: sorry for the pain :') It'll all be okay in the end, promise.