Chapter Text
Ever since Natasha Romanoff was a little girl, she knew exactly what she wanted to be when she grew up. She wanted to be a doctor working in a hospital and saving lives. While it took hard work and many sleepless nights, she did it. Well, she survived medical school and was currently barely surviving her residency. Just when she thought she was finding her rhythm, felt like she finally had things under control, the rug was ripped out from beneath her feet. While they let her finish her residency, every other opportunity quickly dried up. Her residency was coming to a close and there was a vast nothingness awaiting her once it ended. No job lined up, no offers. Nothing. She needed to figure out what was next and fast because rent doesn’t pay itself.
“You’re going to land on your feet, Kotik , you always do.” Yelena leaned against the counter of their tiny New York apartment, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked down at Natasha. Yelena was the closest thing Natasha had to family, they had both been placed in the same Russian orphanage and Natasha had cared for the younger woman throughout their entire lives. When Natasha aged out of the orphanage at 18 and moved to the United States to attend university, Yelena followed shortly after. The two were a unit; wherever Natasha had to move for school or her residency, Yelena packed up her things and followed. At least I have someone to split rent with, Natasha thought when she got accepted to do her residency at Mount Sinai Hospital and the two of them packed their few belongings and moved to New York. Yelena even managed to secure a spot and a full scholarship to Columbia, something Natasha loved to boast about to anyone who would listen.
“I appreciate your optimism, but hope doesn’t pay the bills.” Natasha sighed before laying back on the couch and draping her arm over her eyes. She had a month until her residency ended and she hadn’t been asked to stay on at Mount Sinai, like so many of her colleagues had. The clock was ticking. “Maybe I can just throw in the towel and start an OnlyFans or something…sell pictures of my feet, that’s what people do these days, right?” She opened one eye to look at her sister with a small cynical smile. Yelena rolled her eyes and threw a pillow at Natasha before disappearing into her bedroom.
-
T-Minus three weeks. Natasha glanced at the calendar on the wall of their apartment, the day her residency ended marked with a big red exclamation point. As if she needed a visual reminder. Yet she couldn’t peel herself away from the spot she was standing in, staring at the calendar, the gears turning in her brain as she absently pushed cereal around in a bowl without taking a bite.
“Hello, Earth to Natalia…!” Yelena waved a hand in front of Natasha’s face. “Did you hear anything I just said?” The blond raised an eyebrow and turned her phone around to face Natasha. “My friend is dating some hockey player and she said that he said the team’s hiring people for their medical staff. You are a doctor in need of a job. You could be a new team doctor!”
Natasha tried to comprehend the words coming out of Yelena’s mouth, but it took an extra second for her brain to process. “Hockey? And sports medicine is a whole specialty, a specialty I didn't go into, no way.” Natasha shook her head. Yelena held her ground, cornering Natasha in the kitchen.
“You are a great doctor, you could do this, you did a whole fellowship in orthopedics! It’s tending to broken bones, sprains, concussions, whatever other idiot things hockey players do.” Yelena insisted. “Plus, it’s not the intense schedule of working in the ER, you would have the opportunity to travel, and you’d be good at it. And no one will try to fuck you. Literally or figuratively-”
“Fine. Fine. I’ll apply.” Natasha resigned, shoveling a soggy bite of cereal into her mouth. "No guarantees I'll even get hired." She added around her mouthful of food.
-
Dr. Natasha Romanoff, MD
Medical Staff - New York Rangers
The words were printed neatly next to a grainy photo of Natasha on her newly acquired badge, attached to a Rangers branded lanyard and placed on top of a neatly folded half-zip sweatshirt with the Rangers logo on the breast. She had finished her residency the week prior and somehow she had landed the job on the professional hockey team’s medical staff. After filling out seemingly endless paperwork, her first day had her meeting the rest of the medical staff, along with the team and coaches at the training facility outside the city. Note to self: buy a car with first paycheck , Natasha thought as she finished the hour and a half train journey to the facility.
After a tour of the facility, Dr. Bruce Banner, the head of the medical staff, brought her down to the rink where the team was in the midst of training. Growing up in Russia, Natasha had a passing knowledge of hockey, she could remember watching the Olympics on the tiny tv in the orphanage and watching the boys play street hockey in the fenced in yard where they would play. Watching the large men move easily around the ice brought back memories of huddling around the small tv in the orphanage's rec room. These men were a whole other level than the street hockey she'd seen growing up and even from her spot in the stands, they were much larger than she expected. At five foot four, even the team's shortest players would tower over her.
“Our top priority is making sure the team is cared for and in the best condition so they can do what they need to do. Most of the work I’ll have you doing to start is our emergency stuff; setting broken noses, gluing up any cuts, checking for concussions, giving shots so they can get back to the game. It’s work, but at a much slower pace than I’m sure you’re used to coming from the ER. We deal with maybe one larger injury a game, most of the time we just check them over, make sure they’re okay to keep playing. ” Bruce smiled reassuringly. Natasha nodded along as she listened, her eyes trained on the ice as she watched the men run drills. Her eyes moved over them, trying to remember the list of names and information she’d spent an hour going over the night before. Peter Parker, new kid, left wing. Thor Odinson, huge talent from Norway, defender. Steve Rogers, the team’s captain, center. James Barnes, nicknamed “The Winter Soldier” because he likes to pick fights but is a great player, right wing.
“Let’s head down and introduce you to the team.” Banner added, breaking her train of thought. Natasha nodded, straightening up and smoothing her team sweatshirt before heading down to the rink where the players were now huddled around Coach Fury.
-
“Who the hell is that with Banner?” James Barnes asked under his breath, his eyes shifting from the iPad on which he was supposed to be reviewing plays with Steve to the petite redhead standing a few feet away. Steve glanced up, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow as he looked over at the med staff. As he followed his best friend's gaze, Steve rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know, probably a new team doctor, I know they were looking for someone for the season.” He mused, although he glanced at his best friend and immediately knew James was about to attempt to make a fool of himself. “Don’t. Whatever you’re thinking. Don’t. I swear to God, I’m not afraid to get chippy and take on The Winter Soldier.” He rolled his eyes. “You have your whole ‘big tough hockey player’ thing and puck bunnies follow you around like some sad little puppy, but there is no way a woman with a medical degree will ever fall for whatever sad excuse you call flirting.” James physically flinched at Steve’s sharp words.
“Ouch, I didn’t realize you thought so lowly of me. Thanks for the confidence, Cap.” He teased, looking back down at the iPad to watch over game footage although he kept glancing up to watch the new redhead with curiosity. Maybe Steve didn't believe in him, but that didn't mean he couldn't at least try to get the new girl to warm up to him.