My World's On Fire, How About Yours?

Natasha knew that the Red Room would always come back to haunt her. She wasn’t stupid. She may have burned down their main facility a few years ago, but they had footholds everywhere. It would only be so long before they made themselves known again.

So it really came as no shock when Fury called her and Clint into his office in 2008.

“There have been reports of an assassin spotted throughout Europe.” Fury got straight to the point, not even pausing for formalities. Natasha appreciated that about him. But there were lots of assassins in Europe. None of which have caused her and Clint to be sent to the Director’s office for a personal briefing.

“And?” Natasha supplied once Fury stopped talking. On the downside of Fury, he tended to not finish his sentences. It was like pulling teeth for information sometimes after he dropped his initial point.

“The assassin leaves a calling card. A message to announce who she is and what organization she’s working for.” Fury threw down a stack of images on the table for Clint and her to shift through. Natasha held one up in the lighting. A man lying on the ground. His neck looked mangled: swollen, red, with two injection marks. Poison.

Another one. Female. Couldn’t be older than 25. Neck in a similar state of disrepair. Poison.

This pattern got Natasha’s brain turning. She’d seen this before. Back when it was just a new idea being put out there as an easier way to mark victims. The bulging necks were a lot worse to look at than electrocution. And the more graphic a kill, the easier remembrance of the organization. Easier way to remember the Red Room and that they were not to be crossed.

She looked up from the pictures to see Fury staring down at her. He was waiting for her to put it together.

“Which one?” Natasha asked. She may not have known every girl in the Red Room but she trained most of them; the ones worth a damn, that is. If the Red Room trusted a girl enough to become the new face of their brand, Natalia must’ve crossed paths at least once with her.

“They haven’t been able to get any ways to identity her yet. She’s in the wind before anyone knows any better.” Natasha would’ve excepted nothing less. Sure the Red Room liked to put on a good show, but having a known face made everything harder.

“How long has this been going on?” Clint asked. He’d looked up from the pictures now, also probably gathering that they were dealing with the Red Room.

“The first one showed up almost a year ago.”

The girl would have to be around 16 then. They wouldn’t let anyone out until after they completed the graduation, reserved for most at 15. Natasha was one of the only ones that had it moved up. They told her it was an honor to have it done at 11. She was so good they just had to move up her graduation.

She could picture the “nurses” as they beamed down at her, strapping her to the bed. They were full of smiles and congratulations. Natasha still couldn’t figure out if they were being sarcastic or actually meant it. Their lips were twisted in a cruel sort of smile but all their smiles were always cruel, no matter the context.

The other girls going through graduation also thought of it as an honor. There were two of them that year. Natalia couldn’t remember their names. They didn’t last long after.

In the corner of her eye she would catch them glaring at her, mumbling about how an eleven-year-old shouldn’t be allowed to ruin their big day. That she should’ve had to wait until she was 15 like the rest of them.

Natalia wasn’t sure what to make of it then. The part trained as a child by the Red Room saw it as necessary. She knew this day was coming, and if it didn’t come, that would mean she would be dead. It was more set in stone than an actual high school graduation for a normal person. There was no dropping out of the Red Room.

The other part of her, the part buried deep down, was dreading it. This was the part of her that was 11. The part that lost her family and now she would be losing the chance of ever having a family again. She was the last Romanova. They made sure of that when they sent her to literally end her own bloodline.

The Red Room called it a clean break when they sent her. They didn’t want to risk anyone trying to avenge her. No one could know about her. Forgotten in all worlds except the Red Room. Because Natalia didn’t exist in the world without the Red Room.

She knew logically she would never have a family with or without the graduation. None of the girls ever would really. Between the fighting, the stress, and the lack of nutrition, no girl had ever even gotten their period in the Red Room. Not like the Red Room would ever let them have a child or a spouse. Hell, even a third cousin twice removed was not allowed.

But the Red Room needed to be sure. End the previous bloodline and end the future bloodline. It was that simple.

She belonged to the Red Room. She already knew that, but this was physical proof. Every part of her was theirs. They created her. They shaped her. They owned her. Physically and emotionally.

At eleven years old, Natalia Romanova was already selected to be the next Black Widow.

And now at twenty-two years old, they had a new Widow.

The Red Room didn’t have many girls past the age of 10. Most broke within the first few years they were taken. Children cry. The Red Room doesn’t like crying.

Aging in the Red Room was like going through a funnel, every year more and more girls would be picked off. First it was in large groups, then it trickled to one by one.

Natasha would’ve had to have known the new Widow. How closely was yet to be determined.

If the girl was 11 when she left, she must’ve run into her at some point.

She remembered having to train some of the younger girls. Sometimes she would have to kill them too. The Red Room would select a girl in the group that had to go. And Natalia would have to kill her during training.

They liked doing it that way; they said the girls would fight better if they were fighting for their lives. Except it was pointless. Natalia would win every time guaranteed. How could she not? She would defeat people older than her who have been training their whole lives, so what were a handful of malnourished preteens and children?

Natalia would stand the girls in a line in front of her, making sure she knew exactly which girl Madame told her was the unfortunate one. There were about twelve of them usually, varying in ages. She would walk in front of them, looking each of them directly in the eyes.

To anyone less observant, they were all confident, all ready. But Natalia could see the hesitation. The worry. The terror. Each of them searching their past memories to see if it might be them meeting their end today on the mat.

A few times Natalia’s marks knew it was them. She could see it. That cloud glistening in their eyes. The way their senses were all taking in everything at once. Because they knew these few minutes would be their last ones to hear. To smell. To taste. To see. To feel.

Other girls had no idea it was them. Sure they had worry, but it wasn’t certain. It was more of a wondering if they left their keys at home instead of clearly remembering not grabbing them.

Which fate was worse, Natalia couldn’t tell.

Natalia would take one girl and demonstrate a hold or move. They would then pair off and practice on each other. Natalia would correct their forms. They learned quickly, but not quick enough.

Then they would spar with Natalia.

The marks never had a chance.

Natalia could clearly remember what it was like to end the girl’s life. They were all the same. The snapping of bones beneath her nimble fingers. The popping of ligaments springing out of place. The warm trickle of blood staining her nail beds for days.

As she tears the life out of the mark, all the other girls’ eyes would immediately turn to her. To watch what their fate could become in the next decade, year, month, week, or even day.

<> Natalia stated in a clear voice, the mark’s lifeless body held in her hands. The body slid to the ground in a crumbled heap. This one was twelve years old. What a waste of training to kill her now.

The expressions on the girls’ faces were easily readable. A mix of relief. Relief that it wasn’t them. Some had grief. They tried to hide it. But Natalia saw it. And if she saw it, Madame saw it. Those girls would be the next to go. They didn’t learn their lesson, so they were untrainable. And why keep someone who was untrainable at a training facility?

After the first few months of Natalia training the girls, Madame still wasn’t pleased. She thought the girls slacked who went after the mark. They were sure they were safe, that it wasn’t them. Someone else was already picked off.

That was when Madame gave her two marks in one class.

The second girl flailed ungracefully in a way that the first girl would never do. She wasn’t so much as fighting Natalia, as she was trying to cause a scene and alert her attention. She probably thought Natalia was making a mistake. But Natalia didn’t make mistakes. She shot to kill. And she never missed a shot.

The other girls watching had wide eyes. Half of them looked like they were trying to open their mouths to say something. To tell Natalia that she already killed a girl in that class. But they knew better than to talk out of turn.

The flailing girl stilled in Natalia’s arms and she let her drop at her feet, pushing the body away from her with her foot. This girl did not die honorably. She didn’t even put up a fight. Disgraceful. Madame would not be pleased.

She stared into the widened eyes of the others.

<> Natalia growled at them. <> The girls immediately shuffled out.

She was right, Madame was pissed. Natalia was then moved to fight two girls to the death per class.

Then there was the class where every girl but one met their deaths in Natalia’s arms. Natalia couldn’t decide if it were a lesson for the girls or a lesson for herself, Madame ensuring that Natalia would never get attached to any of the trainees. After the bloodbath, it became clear that the latter was the case.

They wouldn’t let her take a shower for weeks after. They let the blood stain her skin and wounds become infected, leaving behind half mended scars. Natalia stopped learning names after that. She didn’t want to know she had the blood of Anna on her neck or a bite mark from Vanya on her side.

The closest she would get to them is when she stared into their eyes. Looking at their fears. Looking at them.

Which set of eyes did the new Widow have? How many times did Natalia kill someone the girl knew right in front of her?

Which meant they were stuck with two options: the new Widow didn’t like the Red Room and hated Natalia for killing her friends, or she has no feelings towards Natalia because she’s a cold blooded killer who didn’t care about Natalia killing most of the girls she grew up with. The second one was the most likely. Which meant they had a problem.

“Do they know I’m with S.H.I.E.L.D?” Natasha asked Fury.

“The new Widow has done nothing directly against S.H.I.E.L.D so far. They’re playing more with the other assassin groups than with covet agencies. I think they’re trying to build up their name.” Fury turned on a projection screen and though the list of names connected to the new Widow. None of them looked too familiar to Natasha.

Fury tapped another button, and the list of organizations that the marks were a part of filtered on the screen. Now this looked more familiar. Most of them Natasha was well acquainted with. Big names in Russia and Europe mainly.

“I thought you said she didn’t go against any S.H.I.E.L.D personnel?” Clint questioned. He pointed to three names and then a group of seven names. And sure enough, next to those names was the S.H.I.E.L.D logo.

Natasha was confused for all of two seconds before she frowned.

“You fucking didn’t.” Natasha growled at Fury. Here she thought the man was smart. S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t just get this intel now, they got it months ago and didn’t tell her. Not only didn’t they tell her, they sent two different teams to their deaths.

“She wasn’t too big then, it was a simple mission.” Fury stated.

“If it were a simple mission, the operatives would be alive.” Natasha countered.

“Didn’t you learn from last time?” Clint questioned. “It took four teams being sent to medical before Natasha would speak to us.”

“She was a seasoned assassin.” Fury countered. “This girl hasn’t been working the scene for more than a year.”

“But she’s Red Room!” Natasha shouted. She didn’t care how Fury tried to phrase it. He fucked up and he needed to know that. “She’s been training for years. Not only that, but she’s still Red Room. You thought it was bad when I was freelance, but I made the choice not to kill every single one of your agents. The only reason they didn’t all come back in body bags was because I didn’t have to listen to anyone telling me otherwise. This Widow has no choice. It’s her or them, and she will choose herself every time. If you would have put me on this mission to begin with, you would’ve known that.”

“We didn’t want a war against the Red Room. We can do more against them working in secret than out right saying that we’re trying to bring them down.” Fury stated, still calm as ever. “If we sent you to deal with her, they would know you’re working for us. Employing their ex-Widow is a clear sign that we’re trying to go against them.”

“Well that’s clearly the only way of dealing with this, unless you want to sacrifice another dozen of your agents?” Natasha scowled, hoping that she could have heat vision and fry this son of a bitch before her. “I’d have had this taken care of in less than a month.”

“No, Romanoff, you’re still not permitted to directly interact with this case.” Fury wasn’t even phased by the infamous world assassin who was two seconds away from snapping his neck.

“That’s bullshit.” Natasha huffed. “There’s no way I’d be here if that were the case.”

“We’re sending Agent Barton to engage with her along with Agent James and Agent Perez. You are permitted to be at the briefing and on the comms only. You will not be there for the direct interaction.”

“Sir, I think Romanoff is needed here.” Clint tried to add in.

“Romanoff is not going to be seen.” Fury repeated. “We do not have the power to go against the entire Red Room.”

“Taking their assassin isn’t a friendly gesture, even if she’s only just starting out.” Clint pointed out.

“Widows die all the time, they just replace them.” Natasha muttered. Not that she wanted to fuel Fury’s stupid idea, but they aren’t too distressed when they lose a Widow. They were just pissed when their top Widow for the past 8 years went rogue.

“Many other organizations are trying to get her out, it’s not personal to them.” Fury added to Natasha’s point.

“So which one of us is doing the talking then?” Clint asked. “Are we offering her the same deal as Natasha had?”

“No, this isn’t a recruitment mission. You have standing orders to eliminate the target.”

Natasha’s blood ran cold. Logically she knew that would be the case. The new Widow killed ten S.H.I.E.L.D agents, there was no way they were just going to take that.

Clint glanced over at Natasha and then back to Fury. “But sir, you let me take in Romanoff and look where she is now.”

“That was a special circumstance. Agent Romanoff wasn’t working for the Red Room at the time.”

“She’s just a kid!” Clint argued.

“She hasn’t been a kid for a long time.” Natasha scowled. Not that she was in any mood to be on Fury’s side, but he was right. There was no way they could ever take the new Widow alive. Taking people alive was always harder than a good shot to the chest from long range. And even if they did manage to take her alive, she was still loyal to the Red Room. She would try to escape and go back to them with every last fiber of her being. It was in her nature. It took Natasha until she was 19 to see that the Red Room wasn’t the only path she could follow.

“Fury’s right.” Natasha said, once she realized that Clint had gone silent and was looking at her to back him up.

“How can you say that?” Clint sputtered. “You were her just three years ago!”

“No, I was her ten years ago.” Natasha pointed out. “I was their Widow for eight years before I finally defected. She’s been Widow for maybe one year and I don’t think anyone wants to wait seven more years before we can talk to her.”

“This is bullshit!” Clint spat out, violently getting up from his chair and slamming it into the table. He gave her and Fury one last glare before he swung the door open and slammed it shut behind him.

“That could’ve gone better.” Fury said after the silence set it.

Natasha snorted, “You think?” Then after a pause, added, “you’re still a dumbass.”

“I can accept that.” Fury coincided.

Natasha hummed and twisted her chair around. Fury was always so hard to stay pissed at.

“Romanoff?”

“Hmm?”

“Get the fuck out of my office.”

“Aye-aye, sir.” Natasha saluted. She dropped her feet back to the ground and clomped out of his room, making sure to leave the door wide open. She chose to ignore Fury yelling after her to close it. She may not have been mad anymore, but that didn’t mean she still wasn’t petty.

“I’ll be gone for the next couple of days or so.” Natasha said, ducking under a punch. The fist flew over her head and she grabbed the arm, swinging it around and letting go.

“I didn’t see any upcoming missions on your schedule.” Maria frowned, throwing a one-two combo, hitting Natasha powerfully in the shoulder. Natasha stumbled back.

“Above your clearance level.” Natasha quipped. Which was definitely the wrong thing to say. Maria was deadly in hand to hand combat, and nothing seemed to get her more pissed off than being reminded that she was only a level 7 still.

Maria threw another set of punches, turning Natasha’s stomach into her own punching bag.

“But you’re a level 5, pending level 6.” Maria grunted.

“Fury personally delivered this mission.” Natasha grinned. She may lose this fight, but seeing the look of fury in Maria’s eyes was totally worth it.

“I haven’t even worked with Fury personally.” Maria scowled, sending the final punch straight to Natasha’s side. Fuck that hurt.

Natasha doubled over and threw her hand up in the air.

“I yield. I yield.” She called, waving her hand around. Maria made a noise but didn’t keep fighting.

“So what is so big about this mission that a level 7, pending level 8, doesn’t even know about it?”

“Oh no, no, no, that’s above your clearance, Hill. I can’t tell you.” Natasha was glad to finally throw Maria’s words back at her. Yeah they were sort of friends now, but Maria still did keep that stick up her ass about clearance levels and all that formal agency bullshit.

Maria rolled her eyes. “So now you care about clearance levels? The same person who hacked all the S.H.I.E.L.D’s personnel files as a level 2.” That was almost two years ago, how did Maria remember that? Hell, how did she even know about that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“For a spy, you really are shit at lying.” Maria huffed. “I can see everyone who’s ever accessed my file. That includes level 2 agent Natasha Romanoff.”

“I don’t believe you. There’s no way you knew that back then and didn’t tell anyone about it. And I was never caught, which mean none of the higher ups found out, and you for sure would’ve snitched to them.”

Maria shrugged, “I didn’t love it, but there really wasn’t anything for you to find in my file.” She was right about that. Half the things were redacted for what she did in the army, and that even was the biggest section. Their absolutely nothing in the family and personal section. It was quite pitiful. The closest personal thing in there was her birthday. Natasha may or may not have April 4th marked off in her calendar since then.

“If you weren’t scared about someone finding something in there, then why be notified when someone’s looking at it?” And then it hit her. “Oh, you wanted to know when one of the higher ups were looking at you for a promotion.”

“And that’s why you’re looking at the youngest level 7, pending level 8, agent in S.H.I.E.L.D history.” Maria grinned, her irritation seemingly vanished.

“Bet I could beat you.” Natasha raised her eyebrow. “You’re two years older than me, grandma. By your age I’ll probably be a level 8.”

“Eh, you’re a child assassin so that doesn’t really count.” Maria swatted her hand in the air in her general direction. Fair enough, she did kinda have a point. The milestones Natasha hit usually were a little more advanced than most people’s.

“And who knows, if all goes well Fury might tell all of S.H.I.E.L.D himself what a great agent I am. Hell, I’ll be promoted to a level 8 straight away.” Natasha jabbed Maria in the ribs. Maria gave her one glance before she pushed Natasha back onto the ground.

“You get the shower with bad water pressure today.” Maria grabbed her towel and strode into the bathroom. Natasha scowled; it was her turn for the good shower. But then again, pissing Maria off was better than getting the better shower.

Maria flipped her off right before she turned into the bathrooms. Natasha grinned. Yep, so worth it.

But the mission did not go well.

“Have you ever been to Budapest?” Clint asked on the plane there. Natasha was able to negotiate flying to Budapest with the rest of them, but once they arrived she would be in a hotel away from where they were staying.

“Yeah,” Natasha mumbled through a mouth full of Cheez-it crackers, “if you didn’t remember, I was kinda a big name in Europe. Of course I’ve been to Budapest.”

“I’ve never been.” Clint fliped through a stupid waiting room magazine. “I heard it’s nice. Is it nice?”

“I was a little preoccupied every time I went.” Natasha pointed out. Traveling for pleasure wasn’t a thing she’d ever done. She could never let her guard down.

“Maybe Fury will let us go sightseeing.”

Natasha snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure he’d be thrilled with that. Should we invite along James and Perez too?”

“Eh, why not, they seem good enough.”

“They don’t like me very much. Can’t decide if it’s professional jealously or the whole assassin thing.”

“Probably both.” Clint threw in his two cents.

“What crap are you reading anyway?” Natasha asked and snatched the magazine from Clint’s hands.

“Hey, give it back! I was looking at that!” Clint exclaimed, reaching for the magazine. Natasha kept in just out of his reach and looked at the page.

Natasha read the title, “’How to survive the terrible twos, 5 different mommies dish on the best parenting methods.’” She looked over at Clint, who was still fighting her. “What is this shit?”

“Just some stuff to pass the time.” Clint reached for the magazine again but Natasha held on.

“It all makes sense now. You have a kid.” Natasha grinned up at him, all the pieces coming together. That was why he made such a big deal about the Widow’s age, he was probably imagining if she were his kid in a few years. Granted no one really liked to kill kids, but especially parents. It also explained where he would sneak off to go on weekends.

“Keep your voice down.” Clint hissed at her, looking around to see if James or Perez was listening to them. They weren’t. That was the perk of having people hate you, they never really gave a damn what you do.

Natasha handed over the magazine and Clint grabbed it from her hand, letting out a grumble.

“So how many and how old?” Natasha asked.

“Cooper is two and then there’s another on the way.”

“Congrats, daddy.” Natasha flashed him a smile.

“Don’t call me that.” Clint groaned, his head immediately dropping into his hands. Yes, today Natasha had plenty of material to use on Clint now.

“So did you knock up someone or did you pay for them?”

“Can’t you just ask me if they’re adopted in a normal way?” Clint pleaded from his hands.

“Child assassin.” Was that unrelated to Natasha giving Clint a hard time? Yes. Would she still use it as her excuse for everything? Also yes. Natasha thought it was a well-deserved excuse too.

“They’re both mine with my wife, Laura.”

“Didn’t really see you as a big family guy.” Natasha remarked. Not that she really meant anything bad about that, Clint just seemed more to go with the flow. Having a steady family was very rare to find in her line of work.

“Lonely orphan boy builds himself the family he never had.” Clint shrugged. “That’s kinda the plot for most movies.” The way he said that rubbed her in a weird way. It was almost like he was implying something. Natasha may have been looking too much in it, but it sounded like he also believed that a family should be the end goal for someone with a messed up childhood. Which Natasha definitely didn’t agree with. No use fucking up the next generation too. But she was not having this conversation in the middle of a plane ride.

“Put on your seat belts, we’re landing!” Perez called out over to them. Natasha looked out the window at Budapest and for the first time, she had a very bad feeling about this mission.

“Hawkeye, do you see her?” Natasha hissed into her comm. She was staying in a hotel a few blocks from the crowded plaza that they were attempting to intercept the Widow at. There was a rising diplomat that would be there today and they had a strong connection that he was the Widow’s next target.

Natasha couldn’t see anything other than the shitty video feed from the camera pinned onto James’s shirt. He was following the diplomat around the plaza. Perez was sitting at a café table in the plaza. Clint was stationed in one of the buildings. Instead of his arrows, he had a sniper. Arrows were too much of a calling card for S.H.I.E.L.D to leave behind. Fury wanted it to be low key, meaning Clint had to grudgingly turn in his bow.

“Negative, Widow.” Clint said back. “I don’t know if she’ll show.”

“Oh, she’ll show.” Natasha said. She’d been tracking the Widow’s patterns for months now. The Red Room wasn’t the most predictable but they did have their old patterns they stuck to. The diplomat and the location of the crowded plaza were right up their alley.

“How long has that woman been watching you and the diplomat?” Natasha asked James. There was a woman sitting at a table who had been glancing over at the pair periodically. It rubbed Natasha the wrong way at how the woman wasn’t just watching the diplomat, she was watching James too.

“Which woman?” James said softly back.

“She’s at your 4 o’clock. She’s wearing white.”

“There’re a lot of people wearing white here, Agent Romanoff.” James scoffed back. How he was so high up, Natasha would never know because this dumbass blatantly turned around to look. He wasn’t even subtle about it.

Natasha cursed furiously. “You’re blowing your cover! Peel off him for a while, I have a bad feeling about this.”

“You aren’t the one giving commands here.” James fired back. “I’m not letting him out of my sight.” Fuck these stubborn S.H.I.E.L.D agents, they’re going to get them all killed. Fury never should have authorized agents to do a spy’s job.

“Agent James, pull back now!” Natasha hissed.

“He’s going into a store; I can’t lose him now!” James argued. Instead of pulling back, he followed him into the store.

“Perez, do you have eyes on the woman?” Natasha asked, hoping at least one of the two idiot agents kept eyes on the person literally watching them.

“She went into a different store.” Perez stated back. “She doesn’t seem to be a part of this.” Fuck, these idiots were so incompetent.

“I need you to go into that store.” Natasha requested.

“No, I have to stay to see if anyone else goes in after the diplomat.”

“Hawkeye can keep watch of that entrance. I need you to go follow that woman.”

“I’m not leaving James without backup and that’s final. We here at S.H.I.E.L.D work as a team.” Not this bullshit again. Natasha’s been working as a team with Barton for the past two years. The only reason she doesn’t play well with the others was because they weren’t on her level and held her back.

Well fine, if Perez didn’t want to go after her, Natasha would go herself. She shut down her surveillance laptop and pinned a wig on before wrapping a white scarf around. She quickly made her way down to the plaza from her hotel.

“Clint,” Natasha whispered into her comm, “I’m going down there.”

“Natasha, what the fuck do you mean you’re coming over here? Fury was pretty clear for you to stay put.”

“There’s something not right and I don’t trust James and Perez to handle this mission.”

“Stay at the hotel!”

“See you in ten, Clint.” Natasha said and connected back to the main channel.

“Status update, James.”

“He’s looking at a few watches in here. I think it’s just normal shopping. He’s going into another room. I’ll follow him in after a few.”

“Perez?”

“There have been a few people going into the building. One family and two males. No one raising any alarms.” Natasha was five minutes away from the plaza.

“Going in after him.”

“I don’t see him,” James called into the comms, “there might be another door somewhere. I-“
James’s coms cut out. Fuck.

“James? Come in James?” Perez called out. “Agent Romanoff, what’s happening? Do you have eyes?” Fuck, Natasha didn’t have the surveillance feed up. She’d been too busy speed walking to the plaza. She picked up the pace. She could try and get it running on her phone.

“No, not yet.”

“What do you mean no?” Perez demanded. “That was literally your one fucking job!”

“Just give me a second!” Natasha shouted, furiously typing on her screen, Come on, load. Just fucking load!

“Widow, status!”

“I’m trying!” 73% loaded.

“Widow!” 86%

“Give me a sec!” 92%

“Agent Romanoff if you don’t-“ 100%. The video starts to appear on her screen.

“I got them!” They’re a little dark, it’s hard to see. But Natasha could see something on the ground. Not something. Someone. The diplomat was lying face down on the ground, unmoving. Unmoving, with a swollen neck.

“Fuck!” Natasha shouted, running toward the building. “James is with the Widow!”

“Yes, come get me.” A voice calls over the comms. Called over James’s comms. The video moves, going down and then it goes dark. She got James. Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

“James is down. Widow is with him.”

“Come and get me.” A voice sang across the comms. Natasha was about to pull out her hair in frustration. Fuck her!

That was when she heard the explosion. Except it didn’t come from the building they were in.

“Hawkeye! Perez! What’s going on?” Natasha got her answer once she ran around the corner the see flaming tables and chairs raining from the sky. Raining right where Perez was. Fuck!

“Hawkeye, do you have a visual on the Widow?” Natasha demanded.

“Negative, moving closer to the building.” Clint called back. Rationally Natasha knew that Clint could handle himself, but two of their agents are down. Natasha ran to the back of the building. Sure enough, there was a door that lead straight to the back room. Fuck these stupid agents, they should’ve checked for that!

Natasha ran up the building next to it, side stepping the people running down the stairs.

“I think I see someone.” Clint said into his comms.

“Where are you?” Natasha asked. “Which building are you in?”

“I moved to the ground.” Natasha looked across the plaza to see Clint running. Running with his damn bow and a quiver full of arrows.

“You snuck in your goddamn bow.” Natasha honestly wasn’t surprised.

“Came in handy, didn’t it. Ol’ faithful.”

Natasha followed the direction Clint’s head was looking in to see a motorcycle beginning to speed at him. The person on the bike threw something his way.

Clint shot at it, sending the explosive flying in the opposite direction, exploding near the person. It sent her bike wobbling a little, but she didn’t fall off. But that small hesitation was enough for Clint to shoot at her, hitting her.

She fell off the bike onto the ground. But she was still moving. Clint didn’t hit any kill spots. Natasha had a feeling what he was up to.

“Clint, don’t be fucking stupid.” Natasha half hissed, half prayed out loud. “You cannot talk to her. We’re supposed to kill her.”

“We were supposed to kill you to.” Clint said, walking over to the Widow. “I can’t kill a kid, Tasha, especially not one that was brainwashed. We can reach her.”

“No, we can’t!” Natasha argued. “You’re gonna get yourself killed! Clint, kill her!”

“I can’t Tasha.” Clint turned off his fucking comm. Clint was going to die. Fucking birdbrain.

She could see it coming. The way she was staying still on the ground. The way she angled her body at his.

Natalia invented that move. Natalia mastered that move. And most importantly, Natalia taught that move to all of the girls in one of her classes. And she couldn’t even warn him.

Natasha leapt onto the window sill and started running to the building next to her. She needed to get five buildings over. They were almost right under it. She could get the drop on the Widow. Literally.

But she might not have enough time. She watched as the Widow swept his legs and stabbed her dagger into one of his knees. Fuck.

She pulled it out and hit the other knee. Three buildings away.

Clint tried to stay standing but fell to the ground. Two buildings away.

She pulled out a gun and Clint tried to get it away from her. They both rolled on the ground until a gunshot goes off. One building away.

The two of them were still, but then the Widow began to stand up. She picked up the gun, aiming it directly at Clint. Natasha jumped.

She landed on the shoulders of the Widow, then swung her to the ground, scattering the gun on the ground. They rolled on the ground, both reaching for their own knives while also keeping a hand on the other. Natasha’s was still strapped to her leg, under her long dress. She clawed at the fabric, trying to rip it.

The Widow slammed the dagger Natasha’s way. Natasha jerked so that it hit far enough on her shoulder that it won’t kill her. It still hurt like a bitch though. When the Widow reached close to her to grab it out of her shoulder, Natasha used her hand that was trying to get her own knife to land a strong punch on the side of her head. The Widow was forced back a little.

Natasha used that momentum to switch places and slam the Widow’s head onto the ground. The Widow blindly slashed at Natasha, slicing her thigh. That hurt even worse than the shoulder, but at least she had a better way to grab her knife now that her dress was torn.

They fought knife against knife. Almost taking turns striking each other. But for as much damage the Widow would do, Natasha would do more.

She landed a final sickening blow against the Widow’s skull, causing her to go limp on top of her. She wasn’t dead. Not yet anyway. Natasha grabbed the Widow’s knife from her hand and went to go get the gun that was near them.

“Who are you?” The Widow’s voice mumbled. She still didn’t get up. Blood was pooling around the corners of her mouth, making her harm to understand.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Natasha said, standing over her with the gun aimed at her head.
The Widow opened her eyes and looked up at her.

Brown eyes. They didn’t fear death. They didn’t even fear failure, since failure already occurred. They were accepting. They knew they had lost and their fate had only one outcome.

Not many girls had acceptance. Not many girls didn’t fear death. But on the off chance Natalia saw this lack of fear, this grounded presence, in a girl, she knew she would go far in the Red Room. But she didn’t just recognize those eyes from training, no she recognized them from a small backyard in Ohio, turned upside down and sparkling at her.

Yelena. Her sister. Or the closest thing she’d ever have to one. The Red Room split them up after the first few times Natalia trained her. When Yelena stopped showing up to her sessions Natalia assumed they realized that she was a weak spot for her. She thought she died a long time ago. And honestly they would’ve killed Yelena, if she weren’t already selected as the next Widow.

“Yelena Belova.” Natasha said.

“How do you know me?” Yelena panted.

<<I helped make you, sister.>> Natasha said in Russian, taking off the tattered scarf and wig. She looked at her directly in the eyes, watching the realization flood into them.

<<Natasha>> Yelena whispered <<But you died. The Red Room killed you.>>

<<They tried>> Natasha grinned. <<I killed them for their troubles.>>

<<Please, you burned down one facility. There’s always more, stupid. You did nothing but paint a target on your back saying ‘shoot me’>>

<<You’re the one with a gun on you.>>

<<Fine, kill me. You know there’ll just be more.>> Natasha’s ear twitched. She knew Yelena was stalling, but she was right. What good would killing one Widow do? They will just send another one. That was literally the whole point of training all those girls. There would always be one to burn down the next hospital, explode the next school, shoot more innocent people.

Her work will never be finished.

Not to mention this is Yelena she was talking about. Even though it’d been over a decade since their fake suburban family, whenever she looked at those eyes all she could see was her little sister. Her sister who followed her around and wanted to be just like her. Turns out that was exactly what happened.

<<Well are you going to shoot me or not?>> Yelena grumbled. <<That man over there seemed to be leaning towards the latter.>> Clint! Natasha allowed herself a moment to look over to him. He was lying in a pool of his own blood. His chest was still rising but only barely. He was going to bleed out if she didn’t make a decision what to do now.

<<And look what you did to him.>> Natasha growled at her. She still couldn’t meet her eyes.

<<You know I had no choice. Just like I bet you don’t. I can see that camera on your dress.>> Natasha disabled that camera the second she left the hotel. But Clint’s. His was still on. And it was pointed at them.

Fury could probably already see her. He wouldn’t let her bring in someone who just killed two S.H.I.E.L.D agents. Yelena would be locked up. And Natasha would never get to talk to her. Would never be able to find out where all the Red Room facilities were. Where Melina and Alexei were.

There was only one option. Natasha cocked the gun.

<<Goodbye, sister.>>

A single shot rang out in the plaza.

Natasha watched as the S.H.I.E.L.D med team loaded Clint onto the helicopter. It wasn’t looking too good. Natasha waited too long. She waited too long and now Clint was going to die. Clint, her best friend. The person who spared her life. The person with a whole ass secret family. He was going to die. And it was all her fault.

She watched as the helicopter lifted off. Her extraction point was a little way away. She requested her own plane, saying she wanted to go sightseeing like Clint originally planned. Fury immediately granted it to her once she mentioned Clint’s name.

<<Did you have to actually shoot me?>> Yelena hissed in pain, behind one of the buildings. She was cradling her shot arm in her other one.

<<They have to think you’re dead.>> Natasha said. <<Did you disable the security cameras?>>

<<Obviously.>> Yelena rolled her eyes. Oh how Natasha longed to shoot her again. Once Natasha sewed up herself and Yelena, she flew them to one of her safe houses that not even Fury knew about.

<<This is a barn.>> Yelena stated the obvious. <<Where the fuck even are we?>>

<<The middle of nowhere. Also known as Ohio.>>

<<Why? Are we playing family again?>>

<<Funny. Well there’s room to land a plane, plus everything’s already all set up in here.>>

<<So you’re just letting me go?>>

<<Nope, when I stitched you up, I put in a tracker. I’ll know where you are at all times. The only person you can call is me. And the closest person around here is miles away. Have fun, sister.>>

<<So you’re just leaving me here? Is this a prison?>>

<<Gives you some time to cool off. Once you get my trust, you’ll get more freedom. It’s that simple.>>

<<I loathe you.>>

<<Loathe you too, sis.>>

By the time Natasha finally reached the Helicarrier, Clint was out of surgery. She was told they’ve “done all they can do.” He was in a coma without an estimate on when or if he’ll wake up. And to top it all off, Natasha couldn’t even see him. His wife was with them. There was a one-person limit in the medical rooms.

Not that Natasha could ever go there with her in the room anyway. She couldn’t face the person whose husband she killed.

So she got back to her quarters at 3 in the morning. The sensible thing would be would be go to sleep.

But she was thinking about everything.

About Clint, her best friend who she killed. Perez and James, she killed them too. She knew things were wrong. She should’ve left her post sooner and then they would’ve been alive.

And especially about Yelena. Yelena who still had a long road ahead of her. It took Natasha a year of deprogramming before she was okay. But now that begged the question of was she really okay?

She still killed people for an organization. She still got all the people closest to her killed. Not only that, but she’d just been letting all those girls go through the Red Room, as she foolishly told herself she did the best she could to take them down. Fuck, she hadn’t done anything in her three years at S.H.I.E.L.D except take blind orders and write it off as penance.

Everything she’d done was just for show. She never had an impact. Fuck, she wasn’t even completely deprogrammed. A few times since that first “spar” with Maria, she’ll have those fuzzy times where she loses control of herself.

And it would end with Maria broken and bruised. Natasha didn’t know why she still sparred with her. Natasha was a liability.

But she was so glad she did, nothing could give her energy like a good spar. That was what she needed. She needed to spar.

Her brain must have been turned to mush because she would’ve realized that waking Maria at 3am was not the greatest idea.

But her legs took her to Maria’s door and her arm reached up to knock of the door.

“Natasha?” A very tired voice said, opening the door before she could knock a second time. “Aren’t you in Budapest.”

“Can you spar now?” Natasha didn’t want to talk about Budapest. That was the whole reason why she was here.

“It’s 3am.” Maria pointed out. “I’ve only slept for like an hour.”

“Please.” It slipped out of Natasha’s not fully functioning mouth before she could stop it. She didn’t want to sound so weak.

Maria looked her up and down, really taking in her appearance. “Fine, I just need to change.” Natasha released her breath. Thank fuck. If Maria said no, she wouldn’t know what she would’ve done instead. Probably something much more destructive.

Maria came back out and they made their way to the gym. Neither one spoke a word, which Natasha appreciated. Maria didn’t ask about Budapest a single time.

They began and Natasha was mindlessly throwing punches. She dodged without really thinking about it. The bad part about having instinct means her brain didn’t need her to think too hard about what it was going to do. It was just so used to sparring that it went on autopilot. Which wasn’t what she wanted.

She wanted to take her focus off Perez and James. She grabbed Maria’s arm and swung her around.

She wanted to stop thinking about Clint. Maria punched her side.

She wanted to stop thinking about Yelena. Natasha flew at Maria’s waist and sent them both to the ground.

She wanted to stop thinking about all the girls who would keep dying at the hands of the Red Room. Who could’ve been saved by Natasha if she were better. If she tried harder. Maria held Natasha on the ground.

She just wanted to stop thinking. She needed to focus on anything else. Fuck, why couldn’t she just focus on sparring?

She moved to the right, trying to break the hold. She couldn’t move very much, Maria’s leg was planted firmly in-between hers, holding her down. The most she really did was rub herself on Maria’s leg.

And then finally a feeling pierced through her over worked brain. How long was it since she got laid? That was what she should have done. And it wasn’t like she couldn’t find anyone else to do it with on the ship, hell even if they didn’t like her they still wanted to fuck her. It was more of a problem that she didn’t want anyone else to see her like this.

She looked up at Maria. She was looking down at her, her face watching her every move like a cat ready to pounce. She probably thought Natasha was lying still because she was about to try something. And was she?

She was certainly thinking of something, but there was no way Maria would be able to predict it. Because they were sort of friends and sort of friends didn’t fuck each other, right? Natasha’s never really had a friend other than Clint and she absolutely, never in a million years, never would fuck him. How would this even work? Would she still be friends with Maria after? Well once Maria found out that she killed Clint, she would hate her anyway. At least this way she would get a good fuck in before Maria kicked her to the curb. She really had nothing to lose.

Natasha used every ounce of her strength left to flip them so that she was on top. Maria grunted and struggled. But before she could get out of the grip, Natasha bent her neck down.

Without hesitation, she caught Maria’s lips. They tasted like salt and a little bit like cherries. Huh. The salt she could predict since they were both sweaty messes, but the cherry was a surprise.

When the lips didn’t respond, Natasha pushed herself off a little.

“Is this okay?” She murmured in Maria’s ear.

“What are you doing?” Maria breathed out.

“I want to fuck you.” Natasha was essentially draping Maria at this point, her body so close to Maria’s that she could feel her shiver.

“Why?” Maria mumbled.

“Because,” Natasha began. “You’re hot.” She kissed her jaw. “You’re ripped.” She kissed her collarbone. “Your tits.” Natasha began pushing up Maria’s sports bar.

Maria didn’t stop her, but she checked again. “Is this okay? I want to taste you. Are your lips the only thing that taste like cherries? I want to hear you. Do you scream or do you whimper?”

Maria’s heart beat picked up so much that Natasha can feel its rapid thumping on her own chest.

“Maria, I really kinda need an answer.” Natasha pulled the bra completely off her, throwing it across the room.

Natasha paused from what she was doing to crawl back up Maria so that she was eye level with her.

“Maria?” Natasha looked at her face, scrunched closed in concentration.

She opened her eyes. Fuck, Maria had the prettiest eyes.

Natasha thought she heard a “yes” but it was too faint.

“I need you to speak louder.” Natasha requested, lowering her face onto Maria’s. Their faces were parallel to each other’s, their mouths by each other’s ears. Natasha began to try and find a sensitive spot behind her ear. “Maria?”

“Yes.” Maria’s answer was loud enough to be clearly heard. Thank fuck. Natasha immediately went back to kissing her lips.

Fuck there were so many things she wanted to do to her, but most importantly she wanted to taste those lips more. Natasha couldn’t get enough of their sweet and salty flavor.

Now that Maria was responding to her kiss, it was so much better. Fuck, those lips were addictive. And there was so much to focus on.

The way Maria’s mouth closed around hers, sucking and pulling at her lips. The way her teeth would nip at her, eliciting an uncontrolled moan. Her tongue was equally as strong as the rest of her, infiltrating Natasha’s mouth immediately and making it her own.

Natasha’s arms snaked up Maria’s body, tangling her hands in that dark hair. She’s felt that soft hair so many times but never like this. She pulled the hair up, giving her better access to Maria’s mouth. There was a small puff of hot breath that graced her face as Maria groaned.

Natasha repositioned her lips around Maria’s mouth. She wanted to stop anything from coming out of it.

Natasha felt Maria’s hands make their way around her body to her ass. Natasha was so invested with trying to pull Maria’s hair to tilt her head just right, that she didn’t notice when Maria started to tip them.

Maria rolled them over so that she was now on top. The whole time she did not give up on her pursuit of Natasha’s ass.

Natasha whined into Maria’s mouth. She liked to be on top. To be in control. To reduce the people beneath her into spineless blobs. Natasha Romanoff is nobody’s fucking bottom.

But then Maria lets go of one of her ass cheeks and moves her hand over to the other side. Her cold fingers just grazing her clit. Fuck Natasha needed so much more pressure than that. She tried to grind into the hand, to get any sort of friction. But Maria moved her hand anyway, that fucking teasing ass bitch.

“Patience.” Maria mumbled into her ear when Natasha tried again and let out an irritated huff.

Natasha frowned at her, trying to come up with something to say. But her mind was now dedicated to how she could get Maria to fuck her. Not saying anything back seemed to reward her as Maria plunged two fingers into her without warning.

“Fuck!” Natasha whispered, biting hers and Maria’s lip in the process.

“That’s the idea.” Maria hummed. Her fingers slowly stroked around her cunt. Until Natasha could feel them curl around a particular point. Maria started to gently poke at it, causing Natasha’s knees to aggressively clamp around Maria’s body.

Natasha could feel Maria’s lips start to curl up into a smile. That should’ve been her warning of what was about to come. She suddenly began the increase the pace, slamming her fingers into the sensitive spot. Natasha tried to scream, but Maria’s lips held hers firmly, swallowing her whole.

Natasha’s heart rate picked up. Fuck, Maria was good. The way she found her G spot just like that. Holy Shit. Natasha couldn’t take it. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t move her trembling legs. The only thing she could do was grab Maria’s hair even tighter. That would have to be her outlet of pleasure. Fuck.

Maria added a third finger. Natasha could feel the stretch as the knuckle of the third finger went in. Natasha’s head started to drop back to the ground, but Maria’s lips never left hers. If anything they picked up their intensity.

Her lips were Maria’s. Her pussy was Maria’s. At this moment, Maria owned Natasha.

She was so close. She could feel the heat building, the sensation knocking all fight out of her. Every fiber of her being was focused on release. She craved it. She needed it. More than she needed oxygen.

Which was good, because Maria’s relentless pursuit seemed to knock all the air out of her anyway.

Now Natasha didn’t beg. But it this instance, she would’ve. She would’ve if she could actually speak. Even if Maria weren’t sucking the words out of her, she still wouldn’t have been able to form actual words. Her brain was short circuiting. She needed to come. Please let her come.

Natasha could only make her preference by whimpering slightly. Maria seemed to get the message. She used her thumb to circle her clit. Natasha was so close, so close.

Just a little more. And Natasha got that little more. Maria violently thrust her fingers inside of Natasha, the same time she pressed firmly down on her clit. Fuck oh shit oh fuck.

Natasha’s body went erratic, her legs shaking and straightening like a fucking goat. She could feel her thighs becoming wet, her own come pooling beneath her body. Natasha grabbed Maria’s hair and pressed her face down as hard as she could.

Maria’s pace slowed a little, gently letting her ride out the wave. Which was good, because any more and Natasha might’ve been too stimulated. How did Maria know exactly what she needed? Why didn’t she fuck Maria sooner?

Once Natasha’s mind cleared a little and she regained some ounce of strength, she maneuvered her mouth out from under Maria’s.

“My turn.” Natasha muttered into her ear. Maria didn’t make any comment, but removed her fingers from her with a loud popping noise. Natasha suddenly felt so empty. She wanted Maria’s fingers in her forever. But she could wait.

Now it was her turn. She needed to taste Maria.

“Look at the mess you made.” Maria said, calling attention to the wet ground. “You better be cleaning this up.” Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Later.”

“The least you can do is clean some of it up.” Maria put her fingers in front of Natasha. Gods Maria’s hand was a work of art. Natasha looked her directly in the eyes as she closed her mouth around Maria’s perfect fingers. It’d been a while since Natasha’s actually tasted herself. Usually people are too afraid to have Natasha suck herself off their fingers. That was if they ever really got her off. Usually it was the other way around, Natasha forcing her fingers down someone’s throat.

Natasha kept eye contact as she loudly sucked every drop off her fingers. She watched as Maria’s eyes would glaze over. Oh Natasha’s going to enjoy seeing how fucking wet she is.

“Lie down.” Natasha commanded once Maria’s fingers left her mouth. Maria tilted her eyebrow but otherwise lied on the ground.

Natasha crawled on top of her. She began to go the opposite way of when she first showered with Maria. But this time, she got to use her mouth instead of a damn wash cloth.

She kissed down her face and under her chin, Maria once again tilting her head up so Natasha had full access to her neck.

Trust. It was still there.

Natasha rewarded her with a thorough exploration of all the sensitive spots, nipping at her pulse point and sucking bruises on her skin.

Natasha then moved to her tits, grateful that her past-self removed her bra already.

She took them in her hands, they still fit as perfectly as the first time she held them. So soft. So smooth.

She stuck a nipple in her mouth, gently swirling it around with the tip of her tongue. Then she got not so gentle, sucking until the nipple was rock hard and stood at attention. She did the same to the other one, savoring how she tasted. Her skin still smelling like her lavender body wash. Natasha bit down on the tip of one and pinched the other with the tips of her nails.

Maria groaned, writing beneath her. Natasha left trails of kisses and tongue behind as she went down lower, stopping at her shorts. In a fluid motion, she pushed them below her knees.

Fuck. She was wetter than she expected. Natasha wasted no time plunging her tongue in between the two folds. She would pay attention to them later, but right now she has to know.

Maria threw her hands in Natasha’s hair the second her tongue met her walls. Maria tightened her grip and raked her nails her Natasha’s scalp each time she forced her tongue back in.

She didn’t taste like a damn fruit, but she didn’t taste bad either. Pussy tasted like pussy. But there was something about Maria’s that Natasha liked more than most. That might just have been her delirious brain talking.

She switched her pursuit to focus her attention on her clit. Judging by how swollen it was, Maria was definitely turned on. Not that she didn’t miss the wetness flowing out of her, or the hands pulling at her hair, or the way her eyes were looking up at the ceiling as her jaw was clenched shut. It was just nice to see that every single part of her body was so receptive to her touch.

She lowered her mouth around it, sucking slowly. Maria’s back started arching off the ground. So receptive.

Natasha sucked harder, throwing in a swirling motion with her tongue.

“Shit.” Maria grunted. “Fuck.”

Natasha smirked at the way she was starting to completely lose her composure. Boy all the times that Natasha got Maria to lose her cool by getting mad, she could’ve gotten her to lose it a completely different way. She then bit the sensitive bud with her teeth.

“Fuck Nat.” Maria hissed, her body jerking at the touch of her teeth. She could see how close she was. Her body was starting to shake, her whole face clenched together. Natasha could send her over the edge with just a few more moves on the clit, but she wanted Maria to spill out onto her face. She wanted to be right there when it happened.

She moved back down low, sucking, nipping, and thrusting her tongue in. Once Maria’s whole body was trembling, she pushed her tongue in as far as she could. Maria pushing her face in as well.

Natasha could feel the walls around her tongue flutter and constrict. Maria’s come dripped down her chin.

Natasha rest her head on Maria’s chest, listening to her heartbeat starting to even out again.

Her head was becoming heavy. It had been over two days since she slept. And now which her worries pushed a little further back in her mind, she was really feeling the exhaustion.

“Hey, as nice as just not moving sounds, I really don’t want to fall asleep and have an agent walk in to see me pretty much naked with the Black Widow on top of me.” Maria mumbled, brushing the hair out of Natasha’s face.

Natasha groaned. Honestly, this is probably what all people think she does anyway.

“Plus you really do need to clean up in here.” Maria added.

“Me?” Natasha asked. “This was a joint effort as far as I’m concerned.”

“If you clean up out here, I’ll help you clean up in the shower.”

“In the shower? But we didn’t-”  Oh. Natasha was suddenly not that tired.

If she had to lose her only friend left at S.H.I.E.L.D, the shower sex was definitely worth it.

Yelena lived.

Clint lived.

Their friendship? Maybe not so much.