Chapter 74 - A death in the family

                                    

                                          
A.N:  Hey all
This one is not as long or as action filled as I had wanted it to be but I felt the need to get something out there so it ended up being more of a filler. 
The next one will be more interesting, promise. Thank you so much for reading :)

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Seven tossed and turned in her bed, the rock hard mattress underneath her making sleeping much more difficult. Whenever she closed her eyes she was met with the image of a gravestone with those words engraved. 
She ended up staring at the ceiling for the next six hours, listening to the sound of Yelena's light breathing. 

"Catch." Seven jumped awake as something landed on her stomach. She had a knife in her grasp in an instance before realizing it was only Viktoria, and she put the knife down. 
"What is this?" Seven asked groggily, trying to figure out when she had managed to doze off. Viktoria threw something at Yelena and Seven watched Viktoria duck as a knife flew past just where her head had been. 
"I almost killed you." Yelena observed, stretching. 
"You didn't almost kill me, I ducked. You are your knives are too predictable."
Yelena frowned. 
"Also please don't throw knives at me Yelena, I quite like my head." She stated, pulling the curtains apart. Seven groaned and sank into her duvet. The mattress was still hard so she sat up again. 
"You're fine," Yelena dismissed her and pulled the object closer, "A duffel bag?" 
"Pack, you're going to Barcelona ladies." Vik threw them a slick smile before turning and heading out of the room, making sure to swipe Yelena's knife, despite her protests. 
"Barcelona?" Seven tied her hair back. 
"Apparently." 

Natasha knew something was wrong the moment she woke up. Death was in the air and she was familiar with the scent. 
The woman swung her legs over the edge of her bed and pulled on a pair of white ankle socks, pocketing the gun she kept in her wardrobe. 
Natasha's instincts led her to the medbay. The hallway was quiet and the hairs on Natasha's neck were raised.
She was about to push the door open when footsteps behind her caused her to turn, gun pointed. 
"Romanoff?" 
The widow lowered her gun and sighed, "Sorry Hill." She hadn't meant to point a loaded weapon at the deputy-commander's head but the darker haired woman didn't seem phased, sending her a smile. 
Natasha could tell she was faking it. She could always tell. 
"Why the gun?" The older woman asked, trying to balance two coffees and pulling the door open. 
"Somethings off, I can tell." Natasha pulled the door for her, forcing herself in front of Hill to check out the hallway. Nothing. She kept the gun in her hand anyway. 
"Alright Batman, calm down." Hill rolled her eyes, used to the red-head's antics. The two had become somewhat familiar since the funeral, the deputy-commander spending more time in the compound than she ever had in the tower.