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Every life makes a difference

Summary:

After graduating from the Red Room's Black Widow Program, Natalia Romanova is on her best way to become the most infamous assassin of the new century. Her coaches are content with her -most of the time.
On the other side of the world, a rogue archer finds his way to S.H.I.E.L.D, unaware that his and the young red-head's ways are destined to cross...

Season 2 of 3 of Natasha's and Clint's time before the MCU. This one deals with Natasha's missions for the Red Room and Clint's different call.
Season 1 is not necessarily required, though of course recommended :)

Notes:

To those who are here from Season 1, hey there, let's go, we're starting with Clint this time around.
To those who are new, part one deals with Natalia's training at the Red Room during her childhood and early teens, ending with her first mission. If that's something you're not interested in, I won't explain things again because I don't like repetition, but I think it's possible to get through this fic without too much confusion. If there's a name you don't know, chances are it's a now-deceased Black Widow Trainee Natalia grew up with.

Hope you enjoy :) xx

Chapter 1: S2/01: Circle of Crime

Notes:

Clint Barton has lived the life of Trickshot, the infamous archer of the Circus of Crime, for years. Now, however, he’s not sure how long he’ll be able to play along.
Millions of miles away, a young assassin returns from her first mission. Her work has only just begun…

Music piece: “Last one Standing” by Simple Plan

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Circle of Crime

[Fade in]
INT. indistinct room –day. Knives are being thrown at a target, each of them hitting the center right next to each other. The target is vibrating with the ferocity of the hits. Someone is panting from the hard work. One last knife hits the target in the head, right through the center.
It’s revealed that the thrower wasn’t Natalia Romanova, which the intensity of the training suggested, but Clint Barton, alias Trickshot, member of the Circus of Crime.
[Text: “New York City, 13th of September, 2001”]
Clint is in HQ right now, clearly in a rotten mood now as he trudges over to the target and roughly pulls the knives out, restoring them in his belt. He goes back to his previous spot, takes another step back, and starts throwing again like he’s set to destroy the target as brutally as possible. The knives are loud, but the noise intensifies when Clint flashes back to –
CUT. INT. shop –day. The shop has descended into chaos since the Circus is there. Regia, the python is slithering across the floor, guarding terrified people lying on the floor defensively. Fire Eater and Trapeze are packing money into bags, Clint, Zel, and Clown monitor the customers and assistants. The mood amongst them is rather calm, they don’t think there is any more danger, the show is practically done. Suddenly, there is a hasty movement. Clint spins around just when Clown fires his gun at three people who tried to escape. They drop without a sound, but the outcry of the other victims pierces through Clint’s ears. He sees them laying there, two middle-aged men and a rather old and frail-looking woman whom one of them has tried to shield, his mother perhaps. Clint’s eyes rest on the pool of dark blood and the white lace of the woman’s blouse becoming stained with her blood. Clown is still holding his weapon up, unperturbed, so is Zel. Clint has lowered his weapon in shock, now he raises it again, rather slowly, clearly distracted. He can’t look away from the victims of their robbery.
CUT. INT. headquarters –day. Bang. Clint throws another knife, then another, he doesn’t look like he plans on stopping anytime soon. Clown, standing near the door with a water bottle, is watching him with concern. Zel enters the room through the curtain, remaining with him.

ZEL How long has he been here?
CLOWN For a few hours. I would tell him to stop, but he doesn't get along with me very well right now.
ZEL Is it still because of the show?
CLOWN Well, he’s not wrong, Zel. Killing is not the nicest part of our job. You know he’s not taking it well.
ZEL shrugging Well, it happened, and that’s that. We gotta move on.
CLOWN You persuade him of that, he won’t listen to anyone else.

He leaves through the curtain. Zel waits for a few more seconds, then she approaches Clint.

ZEL softly Hey.
CLINT without turning, rather roughly Hey.

He throws another knife. Zel watches him, uncertain what to say.

ZEL Clint?

He doesn’t react, his face is dark and hardened. Zel waits for a few seconds.

ZEL Clint?

As he doesn’t react again, she grabs his arm, forcing him to turn. He startles and glares at her, obviously mad at being interrupted.

CLINT What?
ZEL trying to consolidate Now come on, Clint, you’ve trained enough. You’re hitting bulls-eye every time anyway.
CLINT roughly It’s not about the result. I’m relieving stress.
ZEL Is this still about Crafty?
CLINT You’re acting like the thing I’m mad about is from years ago or completely ridiculous. It’s neither, Zel!
ZEL I told you, there was nothing he could have…
CLINT interrupting her How ‘bout not shooting an 80-year old woman dead? How about that?
ZEL It was…
CLINT It wasn’t an accident, Zel. I’d be fine if it had been. Three people could still be alive if not for us, just for a bit of money.

He throws another knife. Zel flinches a little.

ZEL Listen, Clint, you can’t be mad at Crafty forever. What happened wasn’t great, but we have to move on from it.

Clint spins around to her furiously, a knife still in his raised hand. Against her will, Zel takes a step back.

CLINT furiously Can these people “move on from it”, Zel? Can they?
ZEL Clint, I…
CLINT They can’t move on! That’s the point of death, you can’t fucking move on!
ZEL Yes, but…
CLINT accusingly Of course, you are alright with that, what a surprise! You’re alright with anything, aren’t you, Zel? Let Crafty kill ten people next time, wouldn’t bother you, huh? It’s just something we move on from like it never happened! Like it wasn’t us who did it! Why would we, we don’t have to see the families suffer, we just switch off the TV and call it a fucking day!
ZEL getting upset, too Now that’s not fair!
CLINT Is it? Does it bother you that these people died? Did you even look at them? You didn’t even look at them!
ZEL taking another step back Clint, take the knife down!

Not backing down one inch, Clint throws the knife in his hand at the target without even looking. It hits right at the center.

ZEL harshly One could think you cared about these random people more than about us, about your crew, your family!
CLINT severely You’re not my family. I don’t have family, I have a job that I hate more every day, and a girlfriend who tells me to move on from something that she apparently doesn't feel responsible for in the least!

He has hit Zel with the remark about family, but she’s angry enough to bite back.

ZEL So you’re saying it’s my fault people died?
CLINT We’re a part of this mess, both of us! We are responsible for what the Circus is doing, we’re members of it, and I for one don’t want to be responsible for useless death!
ZEL challengingly So what do you want to do?
CLINT I don’t know. But at least I know there’s something that has to be done! I can’t believe you’re cold enough not to care at all!
ZEL Who says I don’t care? Who?
CLINT Your actions! Move on, can’t be changed… But I can’t move on! You know what, I’ve been wanting to quit for years and the only thing you did was making me stay!

He’s crossed a line, and he’s aware of that only a second after saying it, but he doesn’t take it back. Zel stares at him, mouth open, clearly shocked. She laughs in disbelief.

ZEL I made you stay?
CLINT Well, for whose sake did you think I was staying?
ZEL I’m not responsible for your doing! Also, you never said “I want to leave, right now”
CLINT interrupting I did!
ZEL Yeah, yeah, vague thoughts, doubts sometimes, but you never said you actually wanted to. If you had really wanted to quit, we could have talked this shit out!
CLINT Ah, and you would have talked me out of it alright, huh?
ZEL What do you think I am? That I want you to be unhappy? I can’t smell if you’re not happy if you’re hiding it!
CLINT Maybe that’s just the problem.
ZEL What?!
CLINT You make me pretend! You are always so sure of yourself, you know the answer to anything and it doesn’t matter what I think about it, I’m always just melodramatic or having a bad day or doubts or whatever! No wonder I don’t want to tell you shit like that!
ZEL So you’re hiding things from me, all the time because you think I’m too cold to understand? You don’t trust me at all?
CLINT That’s not what I…
ZEL cutting him off Well, if you don’t even trust me enough to be real with me on the most basic level, I don’t know if there’s much reason for being with me at all!

She spins around and storms off, almost ripping out the curtain on the way out. Clint stares after her, arms crossed, he doesn’t try to call her back, it’s too early for that. Angrily, he spins around and throws the remaining two knives at the target with all the power he can muster. There are tears of anger in his eyes.
CUT. EXT. outside the Circus –day. Zel is walking down the streets, steps aggressive. She brushes against someone’s shoulder but doesn't apologize even when they complain. Her breathing is heavy with fury.
CUT. EXT. apartment building –night. A motorcycle pulls up in front of the building. Clint, in a leather jacket and sunglasses, gets off of it. [Upward pan, through the window on the fifth floor] Charlie, the young man who recognized Clint on a broadcast in a prior episode, is in the kitchen, preparing food for himself. There is a note on the fridge, the paper old and crumpled. It reads “Can’t stay. Thank you for everything.” The radio is on, Charlie is humming along quietly, pushing his glasses up his nose as he takes the pot from the stove.
Outside, Clint crosses the street and walks up to the building. He’s no longer angry, now he’s looking more worried about something. He steps up to the door and lifts up his hand to press the bell button. He hesitates.

CLINT to himself Now, what is the worst thing that could happen? He can only tell me to get lost… that wouldn’t change anything to now…

His hand hovers over the button. He looks up to the window, seeing the light.
Suddenly, he clenches his fist.

CLINT under his breath Fuck!

He turns hastily and almost runs back to his motorcycle. Jumping on, he looks back again, a longing expression and pain clearly displayed on his face.

CLINT directed at Charlie though there is no way he can listen I can’t do this to you, man…

He starts the engine and leaves.
CUT. INT. Charlie’s apartment –night. Charlie hears the engine and goes to look out of the window, but he can only see the motorcycle in the far distance.
CUT. EXT. streets –night. Clint is riding his motorcycle. His eyes are watering, maybe it’s just the wind, maybe he’s crying, but no one could be sure of it.
CUT. INT. HQ –afternoon. Clint is sitting on a chair, arms crossed. Opposite him sits Ringmaster, sewing a jacket and seemingly not overly interested in what Clint has to say.

CLINT You must understand that’s not it. We’re not the mafia, we are thieves, not killers, are we?
RINGMASTER unmoved I agree with that statement, Trickshot, but that doesn’t change that we have to assure our safety and sometimes that means sacrifice.
CLINT We’re not sacrificing anything. We’re making other people pay for our own gain.
RINGMASTER Would you prefer to have the police around on a show? We can’t allow people to sound alarms or escape, you have to understand that.
CLINT dissatisfied Yeah, I could give you that, but stopping people from sounding an alarm should be possible without killing them, shouldn’t it? A shot in the leg should do the trick just fine.
RINGMASTER impatiently Why are we discussing things that happened in the past? That’s done with.
CLINT Because it should change in the future! Crafty can’t just run around with a machine gun and kill people!
RINGMASTER Well, he is certainly not actively trying to kill, boy.
CLINT Then he’s not trying hard enough not to.

Ringmaster gets up, putting on the finished colorful jacket. He turns around in front of the mirror.

RINGMASTER What do you say, does that look good?
CLINT impatiently Yeah, awesome. Now, what I was saying…
RINGMASTER Trickshot, I do not have time for this right now. We have a show to do.
CLINT But…
RINGMASTER Trust me, we have everything under control. You fire your bow and keep your eyes on the hostages and we’ll be all fine.

Without another word, Clint gets up and leaves. Ringmaster doesn’t pay much attention to him.
CUT. INT. under the staircase –afternoon. Clint holds one of Clown’s heavy guns and fills the magazine with blanks. His face is determined.

CLINT murmuring Let’s see how much harm you can do with those, Crafty.

CUT. INT. truck –afternoon. As always, Ringmaster and Fire Eater are in the front with the rest in the back. Clint and Zel are sitting on opposite ends, Crafty and Trapeze are talking indistinctly. Crafty has his rifle at his side. Zel is stroking Regia, looking over to Clint a little. He stares at the door, playing with an arrow.

CLINT V.O unnerved Another day, another show.

CUT. EXT. bank –afternoon. In a dark alley, the truck comes to a halt. The door opens and the Circus leaves, in full costume. Clint puts his mask right, then they enter through a back door.
CUT.INT. bank –afternoon. Clint, Zel, and Clown enter the main room of the bank, giving the two assistants and three customers quite a shock.

CLOWN rather calmly Okay, everyone on the floor.

One of the assistants reaches for an alarm, but Zel notices and throws a knife at his hand. He screams in pain. She drags him away from the counter and forces him to the floor next to the others. From the back of the bank, the sound of breaking metal is to be heard.
Clint stares at the young man who’s clutching his impaled hand, crouching on the floor in pain. He has his bow ready, but his posture is different, almost withdrawn.

CLINT V.O This is just not right. This has to end.

Cautiously, his eyes follow Zel and Clown who are both occupied elsewhere. His eyes are drawn to the alarm.

CLINT V.O This will go horribly wrong. They’ll kill me for this…

With a quick pull of his wrist, an arrow impales the alarm, but there is no sound. Clint frowns, hastily pulling a new arrow from his quiver.

CLINT V.O Silent… That’s smart…

He watches his crewmembers routinely guarding their hostages, while Fire Eater, Trapeze, and Ringmaster are somewhere in the back, still busy with the safes.

CLINT V.O I’m sorry about this, guys. But this can’t go on.

CUT. later. The hostages are still on the floor, but the rest of the Circus has joined them in the main room, carrying bags with money.

RINGMASTER So, that would be it. To the hostages, mockingly Thank you for joining the show, we are…

The wailing of loud sirens interrupts him. He spins around. Police cars surround the building.

TRAPEZE Oh shit.
RINGMASTER How in the world…
ZEL Regia!

She presses the charm on her necklace, but nothing happens. For the first time, she looks honestly frightened. Clint has moved behind the counter silently. He’s clutching his bow tightly, but his face doesn’t give him away.

POLICE OFFICER from outside Circus of Crime, stand down! We have the place surrounded, you are highly advised to surrender.

The Circus members seem more confused than anything. Automatically, they get into defense mode.
Ringmaster is clearly thinking if or rather where he should try to teleport to when suddenly the window breaks and his hands are tied up with heavy shackles that nobody really saw coming. Screaming, he pulls at them, trying to free himself. The rest tries to organize themselves. Zel is glancing around nervously when her eyes suddenly hit the arrow in the alarm button. She looks up, meeting Clint’s expressionless face.

ZEL hoarsely You…

The look of betrayal on her face cuts Clint deeply, but he has no time to waste because he’s been found out and the Circus isn’t amused at all.

RINGMASTER roaring You!
TRAPEZE You did this?
CLOWN more disappointed than angry Kid, why?
ZEL voice breaking How could you?
RINGMASTER coldly Kill the traitor.

Clown hesitates, but Zel doesn’t. Her face has hardened as she throws her second knife. Clint dodges it, getting his bow ready. He dunks behind the counter to avoid the fire from Clown’s gun, but the bullets don’t do any harm anyway.

CLOWN What the…?

Without another warning, the building is stormed by police. Clint drops his bow and lifts up both hands while his former team members struggle like crazy. It takes four men to hold Clown down. After attempting a fight, Zel gives up. His mask is pulled away and her look for Clint is incredibly painful. He’s arrested, too, not acting up. His mask is pulled off as well. One after the other, the Circus is revealed and arrested. A flyer falls from Ringmaster’s pocket. “The Circus was in town”
Outside, it’s raining. Several police cars are standing there, the Circus truck has been locked though something is still struggling inside. Zel tries to free herself, eyes fixed on the truck.

ZEL No, no, please, leave her alone!

Her eyes hit Clint again and pure hatred fills her face. He stares back, tiredly, but not backing down. He has done the right thing.
A black car with an eagle symbol on it parks at the corner. Clint watches with interest, moving his fingers in the handcuffs, his make-up running down his face in dirty streaks.
A black man in a trench coat and with an eyepatch exits the car and walks over quickly, it’s NICK FURY, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Ringmaster is practically dragged past Clint.

RINGMASTER spitting at him in rage Trickshot, you damned son of a gun!

Clint flinches a little but keeps his eyes focused on Fury. He’s still between two policemen, but not yet brought to the truck. Fury has arrived at the scene.

FURY What’s going on here?
POLICE OFFICER We caught the Circus of Crime, Sir.
FURY Didn’t you say that was impossible?
POLICE OFFICER Yes, Sir, we think they were betrayed by one of their own. This young man… he looks at Clint more closely this boy must have sounded the alarm, he is the one with the bow.

Fury looks at Clint attentively, but Clint withstands his look. Fury turns to Ringmaster.

FURY Is it true? Did he betray you?

Ringmaster spits out again.

RINGMASTER unclear whom it’s directed to Son of a bitch!

Fury, unmoved, turns back to Clint and steps up on him. Clint lifts up his chin, trying to appear more steady. He doesn’t look away.

RINGMASTER Wait till we get you! You’ll wish you’d never been born!

Clint’s jaw tightens, but he only lifts up his chin further, scared, but upright. Fury nods slightly.

FURY not angrily So you are Trickshot?
CLINT quietly Not anymore.
FURY You betrayed the Circus of Crime.
CLINT scoffs Well, there’s a reason they just tried to tear me apart…
TRAPEZE turning as he’s forced into the truck Traitor!

Clint flinches. He is aware of his guilt, but he doesn’t regret it. Fury nods again, he’s reading Clint like an open book.

FURY And why did you do that?
CLINT sarcastically Does the reason really matter? You caught us, you’ve been wanting to for years, it’s all good now, isn’t it?

Fury makes a little gesture and two S.H.I.E.L.D agents step up behind him. The rest of the Circus is forced into the truck and Clint is momentarily distracted. When his handlers change, he startles. The two agents hold him tightly, the police officers step aside.

FURY I’d like to have a word with him. You can take the rest with you now.

The officers nod and leave for the cars. Clint watches the rest of his former team in the truck, the door is closed behind them and they disappear.

CLINT to no one in particular If you put me in the same prison as them, I won’t survive a week.
FURY That’ll be discussed. First of all, what is your real name?

Clint’s eyes rest on the truck as it drives away. Different emotions are displayed on his face, he’s made a big step in some unknown direction.

FURY What is your name?

Clint snaps back to attention. He frowns. Fury raises an eyebrow, waiting.
Clint breathes through, he lifts himself up a little.

CLINT steadily and clearly Clint Barton.

[Black]
[Text: “One year later, 6,162 miles away.” ]
INT. Red Room Facility –hallway –dawn. Someone is walking down the hallway, black high heels clicking on the floor. As the camera pans up you can see Natalia Romanova’s small delicate hands, her protruding collar bone, a freshly sewn wound behind her ear, her soft curls falling to her shoulders. She wears the dress she had on for her first mission, the assassination of Samuil Stepanovitch. She seems tired, but her steps are steady. She rubs her eyelid, the make-up itches in her eyes. The first warm sunrays fall through the windows, lighting up her face.
When she turns around the corner, she encounters the young trainees of the second generation, walking to a lesson. She stands back in the shadow, letting them pass. Of course, she can tell she’s stared at and it’s highly uncomfortable.
She walks on and quietly knocks on a door.

MADAME B V.O from inside Entrée.

Natalia opens the door, steps in, and curtseys deeply before she closes the door behind her. She takes two steps towards the desk and takes the gun from beneath her dress, lightly putting it onto the desk.

NATALIA quietly The mission is finished, ma’am.

Madame B eyes Natalia carefully, in a very uncomfortable way, she’s actively searching for signs of weakness.

MADAME B You killed him?
NATALIA Yes, ma’am.

Madame B gets up and steps up on Natalia, lightly lifting up her chin to look into her face. Natalia doesn’t even blink. Madame B steps behind her, putting her hands on her shoulders. Natalia doesn’t move.

MADAME B almost gently What do you feel about it?

Natalia knows it’s a trap, but she doesn’t falter.

NATALIA I don’t feel anything about it, ma’am. It is my job to kill.
MADAME B Yes, indeed. Your last kills were executed with hesitation, I’m afraid to say.
NATALIA I didn’t hesitate, ma’am. Hesitation will get me killed and I have no desire to die.
MADAME B with a scolding undertone You should not have that. Giving your best is what is expected of you.
NATALIA hastily Of course, ma’am, I understand, ma’am.

She curtseys slightly. Finally, Madame B lets go of her shoulders and returns to her desk.

MADAME B We’re very proud of you, Natalia. You passed your graduation and are hereby officially the Black Widow.
NATALIA It’s an honor for me, ma’am.

Only looking very closely could give away her trembling fingers.
Madame B has taken out another file.

MADAME B Quite satisfying. Since this went so well I reckon you are ready for another mission.
NATALIA V.O tiredly, but pleadingly Please… I’m not ready…

Her fingers are trembling even more, she hides them behind her back. Madame B leans over to hand her the file.

MADAME B Your next mission will take place in Nizhny Novgorod. Your cover is Anastasia Rostislavovna Kurepina. No witnesses.

Natalia breathes through subtly and takes the file, holding it to her chest so her hands don’t show.

NATALIA V.O Please don’t make me do this… I can’t do this…
NATALIA Yes, ma’am.

[Black]
[End Credits]

INT. S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters –canteen –day. The room is buzzing with chats and eating noises. The assistant hands a tray with a burger on it over the counter and a young man takes it.

CLINT Thank you.

Clint is revealed, he’s older now, his style has changed, he’s wearing a plain t-shirt and combat pants and boots. His hair received a decent cut, too, and overall, he has gained quite a bit of muscle weight.
He makes his way through the room. A young S.H.I.E.L.D agent smiles at him.

JANE Hi, Clint.
CLINT nodding with a smile Good Day, Jane.

He sits down at a table next to MARIA HILL, a young brown-haired agent with a flawless uniform and a tablet next to her that she’s looking at while she’s eating. She looks up briefly when Clint puts down his tray.

HILL Maximum calorie-density, as always?
CLINT Hey, don’t judge me! At least I’m not eating –He eyes her food –whatever that is. And I’m paying attention to what I’m eating and not working during lunch break.
HILL For someone who just said “Don’t judge me” that was quite judgmental. Also, I’m not working, just reading the news.
CLINT taking a massive bite from his burger And, something interesting?
HILL The usual madness. There was quite a buzz in Russia two days ago, this Stepanovitch guy…
CLINT Never heard of him.
HILL He owes a bank. Or owed, rather. He was murdered.
CLINT Private?
HILL Not likely. Was in a hotel, two bullets through the sternum. Probably a professional assassin.
CLINT And you are totally not working, are you sure?
HILL Well, it’s not really our business. But it is interesting, they say there are no clues.
CLINT dismissively There are never no clues.
HILL Well, either the police did sloppy work or the killer is good, really good. No witnesses, no fingerprints, no alarm, that’s impressive.
CLINT True.

Clint’s earpiece buzzes, he puts a hand on his ear.

CLINT Yeah?
FURY V.O I have something for you.
CLINT I’m eating!
FURY V.O Come afterward.
CLINT Okay, boss.

CUT. INT. hallway –day. Clint knocks on a door and opens it without waiting for a reply.

CLINT Here I am.

Fury looks up from his desk.

FURY Good. Come in, Agent Barton.

[Fade out]

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

And thus, the Circus of Crime was captured through the hand of one of their own. Starting strong with the heartbreak already, breaking the main ship in the first few minutes.
Sorry, but like, not really >:)
I would like to present you a sentence that I really really liked, but couldn't fit in with the script style:

The lights of the police cars illuminated the rain like a very special firework, celebrating the capture of probably the most infamous criminal group of the last years.

Like, that is a good simile, isn't it?
Let me know how you liked the first episode, I myself am quite excited to share the second already...

Chapter 2: S2/02: Blood like Tears

Summary:

Nadia, the rebellious daughter of Diplomat Nicolai Drejkov, is only too pleased to get a boring evening event spiced up by spirited and independent Ofelia. But the red-haired girl might have a different motive than she claims…

Music piece: “What have you done?” by Within Temptation

Notes:

This chapter was finished before the Black Widow movie and I took "Dreykov's daughter" from the conversation between Loki and Natasha in "The Avengers", thinking it would be one of her Red Room missions (which the framing did suggest Imo). So yeah, Drejkov has nothing to do with the Red Room and his daughter's name is Nadia, not Antonia.
Why am I even explaining this, it's in the tags... Nvm have a nice read ;)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Blood like tears

◄◄◄►►►

Nadia Drejkova was bored. She played around with her silver bracelet with the real diamonds worked in and smoothed the wrinkles in her dark blue dress which was the one she usually wore on events like this, the after -“party” of an important charity event where her father had dragged her, only to leave her unaccompanied and neglected all night while he was enjoying himself.
She could just make him out at the other side of the room, laughing and giving his best effort at emptying a tray of appetizers. He loved eating and it showed, diplomat Nicolai Drejkov was looking decidedly heavy in his tailored suit and the matching dark blue tie.
“Everyone should be aware that we are kin, shouldn’t they, Nadia?” he liked to remark jovially whenever he wore it and she wore the dress, not really expecting an answer.
Not that the wear matching outfits were necessary to see they were related. After all, Drejkov’s 17-year-old daughter had inherited her father’s dark hair and his charcoal eyes. She had, quite unfortunately, also inherited his rebellious nature which had brought Drejkov two lawsuits before he’d turned twenty and had brought his father dangerously close to disowning him. But Drejkov had matured, he was an accomplished man, and his daughter, a left-over from his last adventure, practically left at his doorstep like a package nobody had ordered, his daughter was supposed to represent the modesty and reason that he had not had at her age.
Nadia hated her golden cage and sometimes she thought she hated her father as well. In her mind, having to go to deadly boring parties like this one pretty well made up for her sneaking out at night to be with her friends, to each their own, but he didn’t see it that way. She’d actually been grounded for two weeks this time and he had placed a lock on her window for the night.
She rolled her eyes, shifting her weight on the barstool. When was this night going to end?
“A Pina Colada, please.” The voice sounded strangely young and Nadia turned, interested. A red-haired girl had sat down on the barstool next to her and gave the bartender a smile that made his ears light up. She was actually pretty young, around Nadia’s own age, maybe a little older and everything about her was... remarkable.
It wasn’t as much the rich red hair or the flawless porcelain skin that made her stand out to Nadia, it was the confidently executed make-up, the light blue jumpsuit with the cut-outs on the back, the contrasting yellow and white stole wrapped around her waist and the delicate yellow roses ornamenting the plunging neckline and her hair, tied up into a bun, secured by a golden hairpin. How could one wear a look like that and completely pull it off at a party like this?
Nadia noticed she must have been unabashedly staring at the other girl for some time when she was hit by a look out of deep dark eyes and a little amused smirk.
“Is something the matter?”
Nadia felt her cheeks heating up and looked away hastily.
“No, no, sorry… I… I like your dress, that’s all.”
The girl laughed, fully turning to her.
“Why, thank you. Yours is quite beautiful, too, though.”
Nadia shrugged. “It’s a bit boring. Yours is quite a look, the only one here, I’d say.”
The bartender served the Pina Colada. He hadn’t even stopped blushing yet.
“Thank you,” the girl said before turning her attention back to Nadia. “You don’t like this –“ she made a wild gesture. “-event?”
Nadia shrugged. “It’s missing all the fun if you ask me.”
Again, the girl laughed, taking a sip from her drink.
“True,” she commented. “Not the best party I’ve ever been on. I’m Ofelia, by the way, Ofelia Shostakova.”
“I’m Nadia.”
“Drejkova, I presume.”
Nadia frowned. “How do you know?”
Ofelia shrugged. “Your father is famous. So are you.”
Nadia scoffed a little but didn’t comment that that was hardly the same thing.
Ofelia shook her head, letting her gaze run over the people in the room.
“Someone put a good DJ in here,” she commented thoughtfully. “Would spice the whole thing up a little.”
Nadia laughed. “I’d love to see that!”
Ofelia grinned. “It would be like in a movie, everyone getting up and all of the sudden having the absolute best moves when they couldn’t even do a simple waltz before.”
The two girls shared a laugh over the thought of all the stiff guests dancing like in a club.
Ofelia took another sip of her drink. Nadia watched longingly, she had had a drink once or twice, but whenever she was out on her own her father’s warning words lingered with her more than she liked and so she usually stayed away.
“It’s with coconut, right?” she asked. Ofelia nodded.
“Coconut and pineapple. Wanna try?”
She pushed the glass in Nadia’s direction. Nadia threw an anxious look at the bartender.
“My father told him I’m not allowed anything.”
“No way!” Ofelia stared at her, mouth open. “He can’t be serious! Not even a sparkling wine or something?”
Nadia shrugged. “I suppose he doesn’t want me to get drunk. Embarrass him.”
Ofelia scoffed. “Nonsense.” She lowered her voice, leaning over conspiratorially. “Listen, Nadia, we’re gonna get this to work, I’ve got an idea. How about you go out onto the balcony a little bit? I’ll join you in a minute.”
Nadia frowned, but obediently got down from the barstool and left for one of the massive open balconies. It was a bit cool outside, but not too cold since it was already March. She went to the balustrade, staring into the night sky.
She was a weird person, this Ofelia. Nonchalant and funny and still… there was something dark and mysterious about her that Nadia couldn’t quite put her finger on…
Her musing was interrupted by the slight clattering of glass on the stone. She looked to the side to see Ofelia’s smile and a fresh cocktail next to her.
“Our sweet bar boy is allowed to give drinks to everyone except you –but it’s not on him if I order two drinks and take them with me, how should he know one’s for you?” She grinned mischievously and pushed the glass over to Nadia.
“I for one think that teens should be allowed to drink,” she said, adding, “–sensibly of course. If I was your father, I’d allow you some to get used to it, in a safe place and all that.” She hesitated briefly, a shadow passing over her face. “I wish my father had done that. He never let me touch a drop. When I first got really drunk I almost got raped and I was actually lucky to get home alive… So much for protecting me. So, on safety.” She lifted up her glass.
The toast was so bizarre that Nadia had to laugh. She clinked glasses with Ofelia and took a large sip of the drink.
“Hey, take it easy!” Ofelia laughed. “That isn’t vodka, you’re not supposed to drink it on ex!”
“You never know if my father’s watching, better get it down quickly.”
Ofelia raised an eyebrow.
“You’re don’t really have a huge lot of fun, do you?”
Nadia shrugged.
“My father is rather strict. Sometimes I think he doesn’t want me to have fun.”
Ofelia leaned on the balustrade, looking over the city.
“Yeah, fathers can be a real mess… Mothers, too, I suppose.”
“I don’t know my mother,” Nadia admitted. “She left me with my father after I was born.”
Ofelia’s eyes were touched by a hint of compassion, but she didn’t go too hard on it.
“That sucks. My parents got divorced. I don’t see either of them much these days.”
Nadia took another sip of her drink, more carefully this time. She didn’t want to seem stupid.
“You don’t live with your parents?” she ventured, unsure whether it was inappropriate. Ofelia shook her head.
“Left as soon as I turned 18 last spring. It felt like suffocating, you know? Like I was missing out on the world… I’m free as a bird now.”
Nadia’s eyes widened in awe. “That sounds amazing.”
Ofelia turned, smiling softly, her head resting on her propped-up hands.
“It is, most of the time. I’ve seen so much now, I really feel like I really got to know myself, too. You can’t properly if someone’s constantly telling you what to do and who to be.” She turned to look at the party inside. “Gosh, look at them, Nadia,” she commented disdainfully. “Do they really think they’re enjoying themselves? How can one be content with something like this?”
Nadia turned, too, suddenly ashamed. Wasn’t she a part of this stiff idiocy, too, at least in Ofelia’s mind? Wasn’t she very boring compared to this wild persona?
“I thought it might be fun,” Ofelia continued. “I live here, you know, in the hotel. I really felt like dressing up a little and get around people… but this is so boring.”
Nadia lowered her head. “Yeah, I suppose it is…”
Ofelia lightly boxed her shoulder, smiling. “Hey, stupid, not you! You’re not boring. Actually, you make it rather bearable, if I may say so. But we could have so much more fun somewhere else, don’t you think?”
Nadia smiled, relieved. “Yeah, that’s for sure. No one could really have fun here.”
When she turned, her smile faded. Ofelia who followed her glance recognized Drejkov right away.
“Coming for you?”
Nadia threw a few hectic glances. Ofelia wasn’t the kind of company her father would appreciate, too wild, too unorthodox. Also, there was a drink right next to her…
“I’ll meet up with you again,” Ofelia whispered under her breath, lightly taking Nadia’s glass. “Don’t worry, one can’t tell you drank a little.”
With that and an elegant turn, she was gone and had already placed her empty glass on a tray. A small wink, a smile, and she settled at the other side of the balcony, watching subtly from afar. Nadia breathed out and smoothed her dress, turning to her father.
“There you are,” Drejkov commented, stepping up next to her. “I thought you’d gone lost.”
“No, still here,” Nadia crossed her arms. She wouldn’t let him get off the hook for the grounding yet.
Drejkov sighed. “Could you stop making a face, Nadia? It’s really not that bad.”
“Well, it’s boring as hell,” Nadia shot back. “A little music wouldn’t hurt, also practically everyone except the boy at the bar is super old.”
Drejkov scoffed. “Well, this isn’t a discotheque, but an actual event. We’re here for a good reason…”
“The only reason I’m here is because you try to present yourself as a family man,” Nadia growled. “Nobody needs me on a charity auction. If it was up to me, I’d be home and watch a movie.”
Actually, she corrected silently, I’d rather be somewhere cool with Ofelia, but home would be the second-best option. It had almost been uncanny how well Ofelia had dealt with the situation. Like she had done it before, sneaking around parents, subtly removing herself from the picture to shield someone… probably her friends all had similar problems with their parents.
“You’re really being childish, Nadia.” Her father crossed his arms as well. “Just because you don’t care about this doesn’t mean it isn’t important. It’s not always about you…”
Nadia spun around, eyes sparkling furiously. “Yes, because everything’s always about you! It’s always about your good causes and what you care about and never about me or what I want! You know what, I’m so looking forward to my birthday so I can finally do what I feel like! Then you can’t control me anymore!”
Drejkov was just getting ready for a fiery reply but held back when he saw one of his influential friends approaching.
“We’ll talk about this,” he hissed at his daughter while smiling fakely at the other man. Nadia scoffed, shaking her head.
“Better at home,“ she commented sarcastically. “Wouldn’t want a heartbreaking scene between father and daughter, would we?”
She turned and walked away briskly, approaching Ofelia who just emptied her glass. Ofelia smiled, waving her to follow. The two disappeared into the crowd.
“The mood’s awesome, not gonna lie,” Ofelia commented. “But he’s outside now, which means we could finally blow this Popsicle stand.”
“Great idea,” Nadia agreed, still internally boiling. “That bar boy will probably give us away, though, he’s probably spying for my father.”
Ofelia nodded, understanding. She thought about it for a minute.
“Okay,” she said then. “You take the side door. Watch me, wait till he’s distracted. Elevator to the third floor, I’ll meet you there, okay?”
Nadia’s cheeks were flushed. The little spy game promised to be quite exciting. She separated from Ofelia and strolled to the side door, keeping her eyes on Ofelia who walked over to the bar casually, saying something to the bartender with a flirtatious smile. His eyes were fixed firmly on the red-haired girl and Nadia safely slipped out of the door, exhaling in relief. That had been fairly easy.
She met Ofelia on the third floor as they had agreed to. The redhead was grinning unabashedly.
“That was fun,” she commented. “Let’s get out of sight, we don’t want anyone dragging you back, right?”
Nadia chuckled excitedly, took Ofelia’s offered hand, and let her pull her to a room at the end of the hallway.
“That’s mine,” Ofelia explained. “We can stay in there till we make up what to do. You good with that?”
“Sure.” Nadia watched her open the door and followed her inside.
The hotel room was luxurious, fitting the luxury of the items that had been auctioned tonight. The perfection of it was completely disrupted by the black backpack on the floor, carelessly thrown there. For the first time, Nadia wondered… "How can you afford this?" she asked, looking around in awe. Ofelia let herself fall onto the bed and gestured her to do the same.
“Savings,” she replied easily. “I jobbed for a long time and my father’s rather rich, too, so I had enough pocket money. I usually don’t take big hotels like this, but I felt like it, living pompously for a while, you know?” She laughed.
“I wish I could live like that,” Nadia said dreamily. “It sounds so… so free.”
She looked over at Ofelia who had lain down, crossing her arms behind her head.
“You’re traveling around all the time, right? Isn’t it hard to keep in touch with one’s friends?”
Ofelia shifted her weight, turning to her.
“It would be,” she said quietly. “But you’d need friends for that and I don’t have any.”
For the first time, Ofelia’s lifestyle didn’t seem desirable at all anymore. Nadia frowned in compassion.
“Oh, but that must be so lonely!”
Ofelia shrugged. “I get around just fine.”
After a tense moment of silence, because Nadia didn't know what to say, Ofelia rose energetically.
“How about we go somewhere fun? I know a club round the corner, good music, cute guys, the whole package deal. How’s that sound?”
Nadia sat up, caught in a mixture of “hell yeah, that’s gonna be amazing” and “that’s probably not a good idea” and considered.
“Yeah… I suppose that… have you been there before?” she asked, rather shyly.
Ofelia turned from her backpack.
“Yes, yesterday, actually. You don’t want to?”
“No, that’s not it…”
Ofelia got up and sat down next to her. Her eyes were green, Nadia noticed, and she smelled of a flowery shampoo.
“Look,” Ofelia said gently. “If you don’t want to go, that’s fine. We can stay here and have a good time, you choose.”
Nadia smiled gratefully. Ofelia’s offer took away the peer pressure.
“No, let’s do it. It’ll be fine, right? Like, what could happen?”
Ofelia nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll have an eye on you. I’ve done this before, will make sure nothing happens.”
Nadia nodded, her tongue running over her lip excitedly.
“Great,” Ofelia said, getting up again. “I’ll change real quick, though, this is getting sweaty and it doesn’t fit the occasion at all.”
“Neither does mine,” Nadia commented, pulling at her silky dress.
Ofelia opened her jumpsuit and half-turned back, undressing in front of Nadia without a hint of shame.
"You can have something of my stuff if you want."
She knelt down next to her backpack, quickly putting on a green top, and lifted up a cocktail dress.
“How about that? Simple yet classy.”
Nadia shook her head, laughing. “You’re kidding! I’ll never fit in there!”
“It’s supposed to be tight…” Ofelia smiled. “But, yeah, you’re a bit taller than me. What else do I… no, no green for you, doesn’t suit your skin tone. Pink would look incredible on you, but I don’t have that, just can’t wear it.”
“It’s okay,” Nadia quickly intervened, seeing how tight and short all the clothing seemed to be. She couldn’t wear this little fabric, she wasn’t as comfortable as Ofelia about her body. “I’ll leave mine on. Maybe I can do something to my hair.”
Ofelia shrugged. “Okay.”
She changed into black leather pants and boots, adding a black jacket, and opened her hair so it framed her face. Wrapping a strand around her finger, she looked at Nadia through her lashes.
“How do I look?” she asked, pretending to be flirty (or was she pretending?).
Nadia gulped a little. “Amazing,” she replied. Ofelia laughed carefreely.
“Now look at that, I’ve left you speechless! Great. Now, about your hair. May I try something?”
Nadia nodded. Ofelia stepped up behind her, tying up her hair gently, braiding it a little, loosening the braids again, all the while humming a tune that Nadia didn’t know.
Nadia turned her head. “Ofelia?”
“Hey!” Ofelia protested playfully. “Don’t move or I’ll mess it up!”
Nadia fully turned to face her. Ofelia was smiling, but there was something in that smile that Nadia couldn’t quite define.
“You know this is craziest and the best night I ever had?”
Again, Ofelia’s laugh was strange, too serious, too sad. Nadia frowned.
“You okay?”
Ofelia nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Following her intuition, Nadia put a hand on her shoulder.
“When you leave this time, we could stay in touch, you know? You could visit, or I could come to see you when I’m old enough. We could be friends.”
The sadness didn’t leave Ofelia’s eyes. Her smile seemed forced.
“That’s nice of you. We could do that.”
Nadia was suddenly unsure whether she had gotten it wrong. “But you wouldn’t like to?”
Ofelia sighed. “You have no idea how much I’d like that, Nadia.”
She looked like she was about to start crying. Nadia didn’t understand, but she wanted to make the other girl feel better. Heartily, she pulled Ofelia into a hug.
“We can make it work,” she whispered.
For a moment, the other girl seemed perplexed, then Nadia felt that she was hugged back.
“I wish,” she heard Ofelia say quietly. She frowned.
“What do you mean by that?” she asked, a strange feeling creeping up from her stomach.
Natalia’s eyes welled up. She closed them painfully, un-cried tears pressing against her lids.
“That I’m sorry.”
She pressed her body closer against Nadia’s, one arm pulling her head to her shoulder, quickly and effectively silencing the girl.
Smoothly, almost disrespectfully, the golden hairpin that had kept her hair in place, but was actually sharpened like a dagger moved through skin and muscles right into the heart.
Nadia’s body went tense, her groan of pain muffled since her mouth was pressed against Natalia’s shoulder.
Natalia couldn’t hold back a little painful whimper at the thought of what she was doing. She felt warm blood running over her fingers way too quickly as Nadia collapsed with a shocked gasp.
Natalia instinctively caught her, softening her fall, the both of them landing on the ground. Gently, Natalia placed the girl’s head in her lap.
Nadia’s hands erratically tried to grasp the weapon, she trembled, stared at Natalia, realized…
“Shh.” Natalia put a hand on Nadia’s mouth. “Please don’t scream.”
Nadia was startled by the word “please”. Ofelia’s voice was so soft and gentle… it couldn’t be true… But there was blood in her mouth and she could feel something moving in her chest when she breathed…
No, she had to…
She had never been so scared like in this moment when she bit Ofelia’s hand and the other girl didn’t even flinch. Her grip only tightened.
“Please,” she repeated calmly. “Don’t scream.”
Nadia wanted to scream, she wanted to struggle, she wanted to cry out with pain, but everything was overlain by one question: Why?
She nodded, coughed painfully, tears running down her face.
Ofelia took her hand off her mouth, bowing over her.
“Why?” Nadia whispered hoarsely. “Why would you…”
“Shh,” Ofelia murmured softly, placing her fingers around the weapon embedded in Nadia’s chest. The mere touch was enough to make Nadia flinch and whimper, too afraid to cry out loudly. Her fingers grabbed Ofelia’s.
“Please,” she gasped desperately. “Please, don’t kill me!”
Ofelia’s eyes met hers, but they weren’t hostile, only filled with deep sorrow. She shook her head slightly.
“Nadia, there’s no way… you’re already dead, there’s no way out… But I don’t want to let you suffer, just let me… let me put a quick end to it and spare you more pain.” Her fingers fastened around the blade more tightly. Crazy with fear and agony, Nadia broke into tears, though that was even more painful, every movement hurt so much…
“Please!” she begged, horrified. “Please, please, don’t hurt me…”
She was so scared that she hardly noticed how Ofelia let go of the knife and took her hands instead.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’ll leave it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
A shiver ran through Nadia’s body and she had to grasp Ofelia’s hands.
“Why?” she pressed out. “Why would you want to kill me?”
Ofelia’s thumb ran over her fingers, and the movement helped, it was ridiculous, but it actually helped.
“I don’t want to kill you,” Ofelia said simply and matter-of-factly.
Nadia was suddenly shaken by a fit of hysteric laughter.
“Why did you stab me, then?”
Ofelia pulled a piece of paper from her jacket, careful not to touch it with her bloodstained fingers but only with her sleeve.
“It’s not about you,” she explained. “It’s about your father.”
Nadia felt like she couldn’t stop laughing. About her father. Naturally, that was so typical. She couldn’t even be murdered without it being about her father.
“Someone wants him to stop promoting transparency and human rights and all that,” Ofelia continued. “As far as I understood. I was hired to take the thing he loves the most.”
“And so you kill me?”
Ofelia shrugged affirmatively. “You’re the one person he really cares about. He tries to protect you all the time.”
Nadia whimpered. On her dark dress, the blood wasn’t showing, but she could feel how wet it was.
“But why do you do that?”
Ofelia had put the note next to Nadia and took her hand again. She sighed deeply.
“I’m a killer on-demand," she said. "I was hired to do this. I’m not happy about it, but I don’t make the rules. Some people want you dead, some other people want the money from them and I’m in the middle of it, doing the job. That’s how it works.”
Carefully, she lowered Nadia to the floor, trying to be as gentle as possible.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, getting up.
“Wait!” Nadia cried out. “Where are you going?”
Ofelia turned. “I can’t be here when they find you.”
"No, stay, please!" Nadia begged, trying to get up, but failing to with a pained whimper. She was overwhelmed by the fear of dying alone. As she forcefully tried to get back up, crying with desperation and pain, she felt warm hands touching her gently. Ofelia lifted up her head and let her rest it in her lap.
“Shh,” she murmured. “Stop torturing yourself, I’ll stay. It’s my fault I didn’t hit you better, it’s only fair I’ll help you through. I’m so sorry, I know it hurts, I’m sorry…”
Nadia whimpered.
“I don’t want to die,” she whispered, desperately. “You could… save me, couldn’t you? You could let me live… please…”
Ofelia brushed aside a damp strand of hair, stroking her gently. She shook her head.
“I’m sorry, I can’t. Not only because I’m not allowed to, but also because I can tell I’ve hit you fatally. You have a few more minutes, but even if I got help right now, they wouldn’t be able to do a thing.”
The plain truth took Nadia’s breath away for a second. Like to confirm Ofelia’s words, a wave of pain shot through her and she screamed, in spite of herself. Ofelia reacted quickly, stifling her cry with her hand.
“Shh,” she said softly. Nadia trembled.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered hastily, scared that Ofelia would hurt her further. “I have to… it hurts so much…”
She bent over, another cry barely held back. Ofelia pushed back her sleeve and offered her bare arm to Nadia.
“Bite me,” she commanded. “Hold on to me, hurt me all you need to, but you mustn’t scream.”
“But I don’t want to hurt…”
“And I don’t want to kill anyone else tonight which I will have to if you scream. Do it.”
Nadia didn’t doubt Ofelia would kill anyone who’d come in here, even her father, and she couldn’t hold back the cries anymore… She bit Ofelia much more than she had intended to, but again, the other girl hardly seemed to feel it. Her hands held Nadia’s, encouraging her to press them, too.
“Good,” she said softly. “You’re doing good. Go on.”
After a while the pain wore off, leaving Nadia worn-out and tired. She let go of Ofelia’s arm, jaw aching, and tried to relax her exhausted body.
Before Ofelia covered her arm again, Nadia noticed blood on it.
“Did I make you bleed?” Her voice sounded weak. She didn’t want it to sound weak. She couldn’t have it fail her…
“Don’t worry about it,” was all Ofelia replied, stroking her shoulder.
Nadia moved a little, looking up at her. She wanted to be distracted, she didn’t want to think about the pain and about what was happening to her.
“Your name isn’t really Ofelia, is it?” she asked.
Ofelia shook her head. “No.”
“What is your real name?”
“I can’t tell you.” The red-haired girl’s voice was calm and matter of fact.
“Why? If I die…”
“If you’re found before, you could tell them. I’m not allowed to. Not that it matters,” Ofelia sighed deeply. “My name doesn’t change anything. It’s just letters with nothing behind it.”
Letters with nothing behind it. It made Nadia think of a gravestone. Of a gravestone with her name on it.
The tears started flowing again.
“I have plans,” she whispered, still with that begging undertone like Ofelia could save her. “I want to be married and have children and… I want to be loved. I want to know what it feels like, being kissed and all that… and…” she broke off.
Ofelia clenched her fists briefly.
“I could show you that,” she murmured, almost embarrassedly. “Kissing, I mean. I mean, it wouldn’t be like you wanted, but if you want…”
Nadia looked up at her, surprised. “You’d do that?”
Natalia gulped, forcing a small smile. "Of course I would. It’s the least I can do.”
“Okay.” Nadia nodded. “I want to. I want to know.”
She was so excited, so desperate for contact, so curious…
She’s alive, Natalia thought, even with a blade in her chest she’s more alive than me. It should be me dying, I have nothing that makes living worthwhile… It’s all twisted, it shouldn’t be her…
“Okay,” she said, bowing over and lowering her voice to a whisper. “Close your eyes. Open your mouth, just a little. Let it happen.”
She touched Nadia’s cheek, then her neck. She’d make this real. Her fingers moved over Nadia’s lips before she kissed her, making out a slight shiver running through the girl’s body.
She did it professionally, a French kiss by the book.
There was blood on her tongue, metallic, warm, a little nauseating. Nadia started reacting, shyly, but intimately. Then more strongly. She was doing good for her first try, but maybe that was how other people were, just knowing how to. She felt it, too, Natalia could tell from her breathing. At least something.
Natalia was thinking about Drejkov. If he wanted to arrive in time, he’d have to hurry up. She hoped he would. If she had been able to, she would have left a clue.
Gently, she let go of Nadia, who’d run out of strength to react properly. She was spacing out.
Against her first instinct, Natalia didn't say anything or try to keep her awake. It was torture to drag it out longer. She lowered the girl to the floor, wanting to get up.
Nadia’s fingers reached out for her, not quite grabbing, but touching her wrist.
“That was nice…” she murmured.
Natalia pressed her fingers.
“That’s good,” she replied tonelessly.
“Stay…” Nadia whispered.
Natalia was ready to sit back down when a sound alerted her. She froze, listening. There they were.
“I can’t,” she said quickly. “They’re coming for you. Please don’t tell them I’m here, I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Nadia murmured something that might have been a confirmation, eyes half-closed.
Natalia got her backpack before kneeling down next to Nadia again.
“It’s going to…” Her voice broke. She couldn’t say it.
Instead, she kissed Nadia again and pulled the hairpin out of her chest with a single motion.
Nadia gasped aloud and Natalia knew they had been heard.
She slipped behind the door just in time before they stormed in. Two men –and Drejkov. Thank god.
Natalia used the few moments of surprise wisely. They rushed to Nadia –and she slipped out onto the hallway, threw a quick glance, and ran around the next corner without making a sound. Closing her jacket and restoring the hairpin in her pocket, she proceeded to walk normally.
Her heart was thumping loudly, she wasn’t sure why exactly. Maybe because she had just realized how recklessly she had risked blowing her cover… or maybe it was because of the scream Drejkov had uttered when seeing his daughter on the floor.

◄◄◄►►►

Drejkov hadn’t cried in a while, but right now he was literally sobbing, cradling his daughter in his arms, hopelessly trying to stop the gaping wound in her chest from bleeding.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Nadoushka, I shouldn’t have brought you here… I should have…”
Nadia made an effort to speak, agonized by the pressure applied to the wound.
“Not… your fault,” she pressed out. And then “Hold me…”
Drejkov whimpered, wrapping his arms around her.
“I hold you, malyshka, I’m holding you… Don’t worry, you’ll be safe… I’ll get help…”
Nadia snuggled up to his chest. It was nice to be held like that…
"I love you," she whispered simply because that was what there was left to say because it included everything, their quarrels, their misunderstandings, everything that didn't matter now.
Her father bent over in unconcealed pain, tears falling onto her face.
“I love you, too… Oh, Nadoushka, I love you so much… my little girl… my darling little girl.”
A smile flashed over Nadia’s white face. She wasn’t scared, she was incredibly calm right now.
“Keep doing good,” she murmured, because that, too, was something that felt important. “Don’t let them win. For me, okay?”
He gave a strangled cry of some sort, holding her more tightly.
“No, Nadouska, don’t…”
She used the last bit of strength she had for hugging him.
“I love you, daddy,” she said again and the last thing she heard before her senses failed was
“Yes, malyshka, I love you too.”

◄◄◄►►►

In the very north of Moscow, Natalia Romanova climbed out of a cab to walk the last mile home. There was blood on her arm from where Nadia had bitten her, which would get her questions asked… She was walking at a steady pace, quite fast without having a reason to hurry.
Nadia was dead, she knew it without actually knowing it.
It was wrong that she was dead, there were so many others who should have died in her place…
She, for example. Natalia didn’t wish to die, if she did, she could simply take a gun and do it. However, while not wanting to die, she didn’t really want to live either. It was strange, everything she had done had always been for the sake of survival. And now dying in place of a girl she had only met this night seemed like it would be fine? No one would mourn her death, no one would be eaten up by the desire of revenge for having something precious taken from them if she died. Her death wouldn’t hurt anyone, while her being alive did hurt people… And she could only so often tell herself that that was the point of her job, she felt like her death would be beneficial to everyone.

◄◄◄►►►

Nicolai Drejkov was standing at the podium, cameras flashing around him. He was standing upright and straight, but people had been shocked when he had entered the stage, they had hardly recognized the jovial heavy figure he had been. He had lost weight in the time where you had heard nothing from him, where his agents had spoken of a ‘big loss’ or a ‘tragedy’. Words that couldn’t even hope to encapsulate what had happened to him.
Standing in front of the microphone, though, he didn’t look frail. His demeanor was firm, dominant, that of a fighter.
“I am standing here in front of you today,” he began, his deep voice filled with gravity. “to announce a fight. There are people in this world who don’t like my attitude, people who’d like me silenced. One or more of these people has sent a murderer to kill my innocent daughter.”
Emotions overwhelmed him and he took a step back from the podium to regain his composure. Quickly, he pressed his hand to his mouth before he spoke again.
“My little girl had her life taken from her because some people want to undermine democracy and silence those who demand change. They wanted to make an example of me, of what happens when you voice the wrong opinion.”
He was interrupted by a short wave of applause running through the audience and waited for a few seconds until they stopped. For the many who clapped, you could spot quite a few with their arms crossed.
Drejkov nodded.
“Not all of you might agree with my standpoint, politically,” he continued. “but I do hope we can agree that freedom of speech is a human right that needs to be preserved at all costs.”
Louder cheering and clapping interrupted him. Drejkov didn’t smile, he just nodded again.
Then he cleared his throat. His voice faltered.
“Some people have asked if I felt like stopping. The answer is yes.” He paused briefly. “I don’t fear for my life, but I have lost the thing that meant the most to me, my daughter. I wanted to make a change for the better, for the world that she would grow up in. I cannot do that anymore.” Suddenly, his posture became even more firm and he raised one hand. “The only thing I can do is trying to make a change in her honor, for her sake. I can’t stop, I can’t let these people win. We can’t let these people win! My daughter gave me a mission, and I will fulfill it!”

The picture froze as Natalia’s finger softly touched the pause button. She never watched the news at home, but she was on a mission and she had wanted to see it, that speech that was also featured in the newspaper on her nightstand; ‘We can’t let these people win! –Nicolai Drejkov demands a strong stance for democracy.’
People had loved the speech across the globe, compassionate of the loss Drejkov had suffered and admiring the fighting spirit he had turned his sorrow into. He had a purpose in all of this. He had his mission.
Natalia sighed and quietly shut her laptop, slipping into a black cocktail dress. She had a mission, too.

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

I'll be saying this a few times, but this chapter is one of my favorites. It's Natalia's first encounter with someone "normal" her own age and probably the first time she feels this strongly about a target of hers.
This is a bit more on the "heartbreak" side, the next chapter will be a little more hopeful/fluffy? A tiny bit? Yeah, a tiny bit.

Thank you to anyone reading this, let me know if you liked it :)

Chapter 3: S2/03: On the other side

Summary:

Two years into their training, the Red Room isn’t satisfied with the second generation of the Black Widow program. And who could improve their performance better than the Black Widow herself?

Music piece: “Hold on” by Extreme Music

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

On the other side

◄◄◄►►►

Madame B entered the training room and saw right away that Ivan Petrovitch was about to lose his temper. She wasn’t moved by how scared the nine kids were and how much they tried to please him, but she was dissatisfied. The second generation was disappointing. There were only three aspirants whom she actually believed capable to reach the next level of training, and even they were not quite what she had hoped for.
She went over to Ivan. He grunted.
“If I have to train this hopeless lot even one more week, I quit!” he grumbled. “Your red-head was better quality when she was damn five years old.”
“I know,” Madame B said.
The young girls collectively hunched their shoulders. They were told this a lot, that they were worse than the first generation whom they had never even met. Blurred, they remembered there had been two girls when they had started, but nowadays, there was no first generation to look at.
“I’ll see to it,” Madame B assured Ivan. “You are finished?”
“In about 20 years, if they go on like this!” Petrovitch crossed his arms. Madame B smiled icily at the girls who watched her like she meant to eat them.
“Come along, girls,” she said and led them out. They curtseyed to Ivan and followed obligingly.
“You will be trained by a new teacher,” Madame B started as she led them through the house. “You know her, of course. She is someone you should look up to and someone you will hopefully learn a lot from. She has finished the Black Widow Program, as the first-ever graduate. Of course, she knows best what you could be capable of since she is capable of it and she will expect high quality from you, something that not all of you give at the moment." Her voice had become sharp and the girls looked to the ground, subdued. “Miss Romanova might be closer to your age than your other teachers, but I expect you to be equally respectful. No discourtesy will be tolerated.”
The girls nodded. “Yes, ma’am!” they said.
Madame B opened a door and the girls peaked in behind her, curiously. The room was filled with soft music, the music box was much better than the rusty one that they were usually dancing to. A young red-haired woman finished a perfect plié and elegantly turned around. As she saw Madame B, she dynamically curtseyed, her eyes rested on the girls just for a moment.
“Ma’am,” she said softly.
“Natalia.” Madame B smiled at her and put a hand on her shoulder. Suddenly, the young girl looked small and frail despite her toned body. “This is the second generation of Black Widow trainees. We thought it would be quite beneficial if they were trained by someone who knows their training first hand. To be honest, we are not quite content with their work. Be as harsh as you need to be. You’ll train them whenever it’s necessary and when you have time for it. You’ll be informed. Szofia here” -she pointed at the girl-“will give you notes from the other coaches, so you’ll know what to practice. For today, it’s Tschaikowsy’s nutcracker. The waltz of the snowflakes. I assume you know it.”
“I do, ma’am.”
This exchange settled a few things for the young trainees. Firstly, this woman was either extremely lucky or she really knew every dance she had ever been taught which was certainly… impressive, almost scary. Secondly, even though she would be their teacher, she had not known about it before now. And thirdly, even though she was their superior, she was not a normal teacher but an inferior to Madame B, which immediately made her more likable, until you remembered that she had just been ordered to be harsh on them which wasn’t likable at all.
“Well, then. I expect you to report your progress.” Madame B turned to leave.
“Of course, ma’am,” the woman said obediently.
Madame B left the room and they were alone. The girls stared at their new teacher, who looked back at them in return. She was younger than they had thought, maybe 16 and she had a sort of easy dynamic about her that suggested both strength and intelligence. So that was the Black Widow, the girl that Madame B always presented as a shining example for them, the young woman they irregularly saw in the house, mostly in the refectory, sometimes wearing training clothes like theirs. She never spoke to anyone, but they knew she had noticed them and sometimes she observed them with interest.
They noted that she had relaxed when Madame B had left and the fact she was uneasy in the older woman’s presence made them less afraid.
“Three already…”
The girls were startled. Miss Romanova had spoken, quietly, but without Madame B’s sting. They weren’t sure if the quiet remark was meant to be a question.
Olga, arguably the boldest of them, gulped.
“Sorry, ma’am?” she asked.
Miss Romanova narrowed her eyes.
“There are just nine of you. Number 1, 3, and 12 are absent.”
Szofia looked up. She was ten, her hair was light brown, always a little frayed on the ends because she chewed on it when she was nervous. Also, she was on Madame B’s list of potential candidates, even though she didn’t know that.
“They failed, ma’am,” she said, a hint of disbelief in her voice, as if saying shouldn’t you know that?
Miss Romanova looked at her, a frown breaking the beauty of her face.
“I assumed that, yes. But it's very early… at that point, my generation was still complete, as far as I recall. Did they fail from physical reasons?”
Szofia, feeling like she had to answer, nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Miss Romanova shook her head, Olga could have sworn she shuddered slightly.
“Please, don’t call me ma’am.” It didn’t sound like a command, though it must be one. Maybe it was just her manner to be very soft-spoken in her orders. “Correctly, it would be Miss,” she added almost absentmindedly. “Only married women are referred to as ma’am, generally. Just in case you need that one day outside. But as long as we’re alone, I would prefer you called me Natalia.”
She hesitated for a moment. “They think they know what they are looking for. That’s why they let you fail so quickly…” she murmured then, more to herself. Then she shook her head. “Let’s see what can be done.”
She looked at them again, one by one, studying their faces in an almost uncanny manner. They stood still, unsure what to do. They wondered whether they were being graded right now.
Miss Romanova –Natalia –straightened her shoulders and nodded, nobody really knowing what she had just agreed to.
“Let’s get started. Firstly, I need to learn your names. I would prefer not to call you by number.” Her eyes rested on Szofia. “You are Szofia, I know that already. What about you?”
She looked at Olga, who had dark hair and eyes. “Olga, ma… My name is Olga.” Olga curtseyed, but Natalia shook her head again. “There’s no need to do that because of me, Olga. In fact, I don’t think it’s appropriate since I used to be in your place before.”
“I’m sorry, ma… Natalia,” Olga murmured.
“Don’t be. I’m bending the rules a bit, you couldn’t know. What about you, what’s your name?”
“Kira.”
Kira’s hair had a reddish subtone, but not the same copper as Natalia’s. She had a lot of freckles -and a black eye from the last fight. Natalia nodded at Polina, whose serious black eyes immediately showed her intelligence. Natalia tried not to think who these eyes reminded her of, who had also had almond-shaped eyes like that.
“I’m Polina,” the girl said with an automatic small curtsey.
“I’m Katja.” Katja’s voice broke at saying it, she was extremely nervous and couldn’t even meet Natalia’s eye. Natalia could tell right away she was no top league competitor. She didn’t have the emotional nor the physical strength she should have acquired by now and the program wasn’t forgiving if you couldn’t meet its expectations. Maybe she was good at the theoretical part of their training, but that would hardly be enough.
Anastasia was better of, tall, not lanky just yet, sportive, a bit naïve maybe, Natalia thought, for lack of a better word.
Brown-haired Ekaterina and blonde Irina had nothing special about them, it was impossible to tell what they would be good at, she was sure they were considered the middle of the class.
And Christina with her blonde curls was surely a good-natured and respectful girl, but there was something about her that alarmed Natalia, even though she could not quite put her finger on it.
So, no one of Maria’s level in here. Olga, Polina, and Szofia were probably top of the class, then Anastasia, Ekaterina, and Irina, most likely switching ranks daily. Katja and Kira, maybe Christina, more on the worse side.
Natalia didn’t want to think of them that way, practically giving them an order in which they would fail. Three failed after not even two years of training was not a good quota… When had Tatjana failed? Three years in, right? When had been the point for them to not tolerate failure anymore?
Natalia sighed internally. They referred to these girls as the second generation, which meant she and the others had been the first ones, a test project, so to speak. Now they knew what to look for, what worked, and what didn't. They wouldn't spend almost twelve years on these girls.
They’d expect her to work out who was worth their time. They’d want her to focus on Szofia and Olga and improve their chances. They’d want her to help them sort out.
Natalia straightened. She knew whom she’d focus on. She knew what she’d do.
“Okay, girls, please form three rows. I’ll switch on the music and see what we have to work on.”
They obeyed her quickly, though a little confused at not having received a clear order how to form the rows. She switched on the ‘Waltz of the snowflakes’.
They started dancing simultaneously. Right away, Natalia could tell they were far from perfect, but she thought their dance had a group dynamic to it that had a beauty in its own right. Not that group dynamic was what mattered, perfection was and always would be the only thing that Master Petrovitch would ever care about. She let the dance finish once, then paused.
“Relax for a moment,” she said and they gave up their pose. “That was not bad. We’ll do that once more, this time I’ll try to correct a few things I spotted.”
She let the music start over and walked through the lines, following the steps as she went. She stayed with Kira.
“Take my hand,” she said softly. “Chin up. Bend your back. There we go, that’s better.”
Kira finished the figure, looking at her anxiously. Natalia nodded contently.
“Ekaterina,” she said then. “You’re counting to yourself, aren’t you?”
Ekaterina glanced over the shoulder and lost the rhythm for a moment. “Yes?” she said, frightened.
“It shows in the way you move. This is a dance. It resolves logically into these figures. I know you know it by heart. Now try to free yourself from the metronome, try to count less and think more about what you do,” Natalia was surprised at how naturally the words came. Explaining this was so easy, even though she had never taught anyone in her… in a long time. “It takes a bit of practice,” she added. “Just try, it’s okay if it doesn’t work just yet.”
She felt their eyes on her. It’s okay if it doesn’t work. That was not what they were taught all the time. She corrected two more mistakes, then paused the music again. They stared at her, still in pose. A little gesture made them switch to the third position, more relaxed. Natalia found herself to be quite disrupted. She shouldn't be able to control their moves like that.
“Listen,” she said, not fully sure what she was going to say. “First of all, when I stop the music, you can relax always. I might forget to tell you every time, this is new for me as well. I know this might be different from everything else you’re taught, I know, I’ve been trained the same way as you are. I don’t think I will be capable of training you the way your other coaches do, I am not a trained coach, I’m a trained assassin, that’s very different. I hope you can deal with me doing things a little differently.”
They nodded but seemed uncertain. They didn't have much of a choice anyway, she was their superior. She didn't like the thought of that at all. She shouldn't be anyone’s superior.
“I don’t think… I won’t be punishing you if I don’t have to," she continued a little insecurely. "For failing at something, I mean. As I understand, you are supposed to be learning from me, and as long as I can tell you’re trying to do that I don’t see the need for punishing you.” I don’t know if I could. “As you might notice, I do not wish to be treated… with too much… I don’t want… I don’t need you to be formal with me, I’d prefer you to be straightforward. I’m supposed to train you to be better, so you won’t fail. If you gave me information on what you have a hard time with especially I figure we would be way more efficient. So if you have problems with something, tell me so I can hopefully teach you. Is that… Do you understand how I mean that?”
She received shy nodding. She’d always known her fellows’ weaknesses, only now she saw that her coaches might not have been as aware of them. How would she possibly train these girls without knowing anything about them?
“Good,” she said. It felt strange to suddenly speak so much, but she didn’t want them to be afraid of her, that would just make them avoid trying stuff they were bad at, she knew how things went.
“Let me be honest with you,” she continued. “I don’t know how this is going to go. I’m not even fully sure how it is supposed to go. I’ll try to help all of you equally to use your potential. You all are much stronger than you think. I didn't start off as the most promising candidate in the beginning as well. No one would have thought I’d be the Black Widow one day. Nothing’s for sure just now, as long as you don’t give up. There’s still a lot that can happen.”
She looked at them, standing beside each other, looking at her with wide, frightened eyes. They are a group, she thought, they are friends. I should tell them friendship is dangerous, that it will hurt them. This way, they’ll get hurt so much…
“Another thing,” she said. “I have one rule, no, actually two that I hope you will stick to. Firstly, no competition. There’ll be no placings and no winner in this course. No unfairness. I want to see who can do the task and not who is best at preventing others from doing it. If I’m required to do placings, I’ll find myself my own system. Do you understand that? No competition.”
The girls nodded. She observed them carefully. They were unsure about this, sure, even she was unsure about this. But this was supposed to make them better and how was she supposed to make them if they were sabotaging each other? She was possibly doing all of this horribly wrong anyways, but her gut was telling her this would bring success without just focusing on who was the best right now. After all, Olga, the youngest, had to be no older than seven, she couldn't be the best just now, but she might well be one day.
“And secondly,” she continued. “If you have any questions, ask them.”
For a few moments, everyone was silent. Then Natalia caught Szofia smiling faintly, hopefully. She did not smile back, but she was certain now that it was worth the risk.

◄◄◄►►►

The dormitory was filled with excited chatting this evening, more so than usual. Presently, everyone gathered around Szofia’s bed like they always did when something was to be discussed.
Madame B, knowing from the first generation that handcuffing did nothing but causing her more work at this stage where all of the trainees were still rather innocent, had decided not to tie them up at night. Thusly, the girls could settle in their usual places, Olga and Szofia together at the top, Polina sitting on the bedframe, trying to untangle her long black hair, Christina, Kira and Katja curled up on Anastasia’s bed next to them, and Irina, Anastasia and Ekaterina on Irina’s bed on the other side to Szofia’s. The topic of their conversation wasn’t hard to guess, since the very beginning of their training, they had never gotten a new teacher.
“She’s so good,” Irina remarked in awe. “Did you see how she followed the dance while she was correcting us? Like it wasn’t anything more than breathing.”
Olga nodded. “She’s different from the other coaches,” she said, “She doesn’t… she doesn’t…”
She hesitated, unsure. Polina finished for her. “She doesn’t want us to fail,” she summed up Natalia’s speech. “I don’t think she’s meant to.”
“But why would she want us to fail?” Anastasia asked in confusion. “None of our coaches should want us to?”
“But they do,” Polina said bluntly. “Master Petrovitch wants us to, he’s waiting for it every single –“
She stopped when Szofia shook her head warningly, gesturing at Christina whose eyes already widened in alarm.
“I meant,” Polina pedaled back. “his expectations are rather high and one doesn’t always feel like he wants us to meet them.”
“I’m not sure if I can be like Natalia wants us to be,” Kira said softly. “She said she wants us to ask questions and be straightforward and I’m not straightforward at all. I don’t want to tell her what I’m not good at.”
“She knows that anyway.” Olga stretched her aching muscles and settled more comfortably. “She’s the best there is, she probably knows what we’re good at just from the way we danced today.”
“Do you believe she really won’t be punishing us?” Ekaterina’s forehead was wrinkled in disbelief.
Olga scoffed. “She will if we do something wrong, what else would she do?”
“But she said she wouldn’t,” Szofia contradicted. “Why would she say that if she plans to do it like everyone else? That makes no sense.”
“To test us?” Polina suggested. “To see if we’ll work hard even without thinking we’ll be punished? To see if we believe everything she says?”
The others thought about the suggestion for a few seconds.
“It should be clever to try our very best,” Szofia said finally. “No matter what the punishment will or will not be. We shouldn’t make Natalia angry.”
“She’ll report to Madame B, too,” Polina added. “If we don’t do well, we’ll be punished anyway.”
"I like her," Christina whispered. Despite being the oldest, she was the one that the others tried to protect the most, she was quiet and withdrawn and afraid of everything, and now that she had spoken everyone held their breath because it happened so rarely. "She’s so… soft,” Christina continued. “She didn’t shout once and she was so nice correcting us… I didn’t feel like she was… she doesn’t scare me so much.”
Szofia waited a few seconds to make sure her fellow trainee was finished. Then she nodded.
“I think so, too. She’s been very nice. I think it’s because she’s completed the training, she knows how hard it is.”
“It won’t have been so hard for her,” Olga pointed out. “She’s the Black Widow, after all.”
Irina shook her head.
“That’s not true, I’m sure she worked very hard for it, too. She said she didn’t start out at the top, so she had to work herself up there.”
Ekaterina nodded. “I wonder what she’ll teach us,” she said thoughtfully. “If she really goes outside sometimes it could be very interesting.”

◄◄◄►►►

Three days later they were told to go to the small practice room again.
Natalia was already there, dancing with her eyes closed, a view to behold.
They stood by the door, watching her in awe until she landed, took on her final pose, and curtseyed deeply. Then she turned around, noticing their presence.
“There you are.” Her voice didn’t sound accusing, she had just stated the fact. “Do come in, close the door behind you.”
They obeyed, awkwardly forming a line in front of her because they had no idea what she expected. She stood still for a while, her eyes running over them.
“You are Ekaterina, aren’t you?” she asked then.
Ekaterina nodded hastily. “Yes, ma… Yes, Natalia.”
Natalia nodded contently. “Then I have all your names memorized, I think. That’s good. Szofia, do you have a note for me?”
Szofia took a step forward, handing her a note with a curtsey.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she breathed agitatedly, noticing her mistake.
Natalia shook her head absentmindedly.
“It’s alright, no matter.”
She read the note, a combat exercise.
“I see. Let’s see… um, would you mind changing your order? It would be nice to have, say the one who’s best at this exercise here on the right side and the one who’s worst on this side just so I can pair you more easily."
The trainees stared at her, confused. What did she mean, sort themselves? How would they know their position, they were always told how good they were…
Natalia frowned briefly, noticing their confusion and increasing fear.
“Okay, I see, let’s skip that,” she announced quickly. “Pair yourself by number, will you? Like, Number 1 with Number 4, 5 and 6 and so forth.”
Relieved, the girls went together in pairs, except for Olga who looked up at Natalia in barely concealed fear. Natalia nodded.
“You’ll have to wait for a second, Olga, that’s alright.”
Olga relaxed a little. Natalia turned back to the others.
“Can you show me the exercise three times, please? I mean, three times per partner, so six times total.”
They resisted the urge of saying “Yes, ma’am” and obeyed. Olga watched Natalia, fascinated. Her eyes flashed around between all of them, she surely noticed every detail.
“That’s okay,” Natalia said when they were finished. “Olga, can you show me with Ekaterina?”
“Yes, Natalia,” Olga replied humbly and stepped to Ekaterina, showing the exercise. She didn’t do as well as she usually did because she was so nervous and was internally shaking like a leaf when she was finished. Natalia nodded.
“Good, that’s alright.”
She stood for a moment, thinking, before she said “Alright, I’ll rearrange you a little. Irina, please join Christina, Szofia, I want you paired with Olga, Kira, and Katja, and then Anastasia and Ekaterina. Polina, you’ll get your share of training as well, don’t worry.”
A cautious smile broke way on Olga’s face. Apparently, Natalia had paired them so they were relatively equal in quality, and being paired with Szofia was practically the highest accolade; Szofia was by far the best in combat.
“Each of you should do the exercise ten times for the start,” Natalia continued. “So 20 in total. Switch partners every time, please, so I have a chance to see all of you.”
As they got into position but didn't move, she noticed her mistake. "Oh, I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter who starts, really, but for simplicity let’s say the older one will always go first, okay?”
They nodded.
Please. Don’t worry. I’m sorry. Okay?
Why was she using all those phrases, she was their coach, she was in charge, there was no need for her to apologize for anything?
“You can start,” Natalia added softly when they still didn’t move. Like one body, everyone went into action. Natalia turned to Polina.
“You’ll train with me for now, okay? Don’t hold back.”
Polina brought her to the ground ten times, a bit shyly since their coaches were usually untouchable, but Natalia didn’t seem to be afraid of taking hits herself. When Polina was finished, Natalia told her to wait and watched the others until they were done, too.
“That wasn’t bad,” she summed up. It was basically the highest praise you could get in the program and she had just casually used it for something they all knew hadn’t been perfect at all.
“Of course,” Natalia continued. “you’re all at different places right now. I’m afraid I have another little change to normal training… I feel like it could be helpful that, if you notice one another’s mistakes, that you point them out to each other. Just now, I saw most of you doing the same mistakes ten times over. If you see that with your partner, tell them. It just makes things way more efficient than me interrupting and explaining every time. So, you’re allowed to talk and stop in between to teach each other things. Also, if something’s not clear to you, I’d prefer you asked me right away instead of doing it wrong over and over again.”
Olga noticed very clearly that Natalia wasn’t fully comfortable with this either. She was practically telling them to do everything differently than usual, helping each other, speaking up, asking questions. She couldn’t possibly be serious.
Olga lifted up her hand without fully considering it. Natalia’s eyes met hers.
“Yes, Olga?”
“Are we allowed to ask questions about anything?” Olga asked almost challengingly. “Or just about training?”
Natalia looked surprised for a second, then she nodded thoughtfully.
“I was thinking about training mainly, but you can ask anything you want, I should say. If I don’t want to or cannot answer, I will simply tell you so.”
Olga couldn’t fully hold the curtsey back as she nodded.
Natalia nodded, reaffirming.
“Okay, let’s get back to work. Please continue practicing, I’ll correct you separately. Polina, you can join Ekaterina and Anastasia, you’ll have to take turns.”
They got back to training and experienced for the very first time that your muscles could naturally relax during training, that no shiver ran through your body when your coach was right behind you and that a mistake didn’t feel like the end of the world. It was much easier when they were allowed to correct each other and more than once Natalia remarked “Just what I would have said, exactly.”
In the end, Irina felt like she had never understood a combat exercise so well before. Her face shone when Natalia said “That’s much better than in the beginning. You’re getting there, well done.”
And even in the next real combat lessons, Madame Ljudmila didn’t shake her head with as much disdain as usual.

◄◄◄►►►

For the following three weeks, the young trainees didn't get to see Natalia at all, not only didn't she hold any lessons, she also didn't attend their meals or showed up somewhere around the facility.
The lessons with Master Petrovitch or Master Al-Baksh took for eternity these days and the mood was generally somewhat unnerved.
When Professor Ivashin called Szofia after the lesson, she startled and obeyed nervously. She had no idea what he wanted, her English hadn’t been all that bad today, had it?
He wrote something in his slim, tilted handwriting and handed her the note.
“She’s waiting for you in the practice room,” he said simply and dismissed them impatiently. They curtseyed and left the schoolroom. Szofia, surrounded by the others, opened the note.
“English pronunciation and dialogue,” she read aloud and shut it again. That meant they wouldn’t have to change clothing.
They entered the room to find Natalia sitting at a small table, writing. She looked up when they entered and got up.
“Come in,” she greeted them. She was wearing the same uniform they were, hair braided. Somehow, Ekaterina found it relaxing that her skirt was slightly too big on her and pinned into place with a hairpin at her hips. None of their teachers wore ill-fitting clothes and the fact that Natalia did… It was certainly stupid to think she’d understand their problems, but the clothing was certainly something the girls could easily relate to. Ekaterina tucked at her skirt which cut into her stomach uncomfortably.
Szofia handed Natalia the note like she was supposed to and the young woman’s eyes ran over it quickly.
“No specification,” she murmured, switching to English effortlessly. “Did the Professor say anything about the task?”
They shook their heads. Natalia shrugged.
“Well, then we might just as well talk a little more casually.” Her English was flawless, she didn’t seem like she had to think about words at all. She gestured at the floor.
“I think you can sit down here, I don’t see why you should be standing all the time. Form a circle, okay?”
A little taken aback, they settled in a small circle, sitting on their legs very straight so they wouldn’t be too casual. Natalia sat down on the floor as well, between Anastasia and Irina who quickly made way for her. Everyone was looking at her, hoping she’d tell them what to do.
“So,” Natalia began. “I reckon we might do it this way: We’ll talk in English only, and if there’s a mistake, we’ll correct it. I might interrupt you when you pronounce something wrong, you can tell your fellows, too, if there’s something you notice. Please don’t be disdainful towards each other, I will not condone that. As far as topics go… I don’t really know. Is there anything you want to talk about? Questions, problems?”
Once again, she had managed to turn everything upside down, again she’d left them in a place of hopeless confusion. Finally, Szofia lifted up her hand.
“Can I ask a question, Natalia?”
“Sure. You don’t need to lift up your hand when no one else’s talking, by the way. What’s your question?”
"Where have you been for the last weeks?" Szofia asked, cheeks flaming red with excitement. "I mean because you was not around."
“It’s ‘were around’,” Natalia corrected calmly, but it didn’t sound like the mistake bothered her. “I was on missions outside, several in a row, coming back wouldn’t have made much sense.”
“What is it like, outside?” Szofia asked eagerly, encouraged by how well her first question had been taken.
Natalia shrugged. “It’s different,” she said. “There are a lot of people and they’re all different and there are hundreds of strange rules for how to talk and how to behave. It’s difficult to learn and adapt to all of that.”
“Are you nervous when you go outside?” Olga asked, hoping the question would be fine. She didn’t want to ask an inappropriate question.
Natalia stayed perfectly placid. "I have learned to remain calm. It’s safer when you know how to blend in and I’m quite good at that.”
“Did someone tried to kill you?”
“It’s ’try’ in that sentence. Yes, many did. It’s only fair, I think, considering I tried to kill them, too.”
“Is killing hard?” Kira’s voice was timid. Natalia looked at her.
“It’s a skill,” she said after a moment of silence. “One you need to acquire and practice. You learn to shoot and you learn not to hesitate, to shut in all weakness you might feel. It takes power. I found it very hard in the beginning, but I’m better at it now.”
“When did you go on your first mission?” It was Polina who asked, her eyes fixed on Natalia. Natalia withstood her stare, unperturbed.
“I went on a mission in my seventh year of training, I assisted the operating agent. I did more assistance after I finished training and my real first mission I went on… one year ago, roughly.”
They wanted to know what it had been like, what she had been best at during her training, what she had had difficulties with, though of course, she didn’t have any difficulties today. Natalia answered their questions placidly, the only time they thought she wasn’t willing to was when Anastasia asked about the other trainees in her generation.
“Were there twelve like us?” she asked. “Did they all fail?”
Natalia’s beautiful face seemed to harden a little and Christina hunched her shoulders, her breaths coming quicker. She almost shrieked when Natalia’s eyes met hers. The young woman frowned.
“Christina, are you alright?”
Christina nodded hastily, shaking as she tried to get her breathing back under control. Natalia frowned again and the girl half-whimpered, expecting her to be angry at her lack of control.
Szofia looked at her teacher almost pleadingly, please don’t shout, it’s going to make it so much worse… Natalia seemed to consider.
“Szofia, from the way you look at me, do you know how to help Christina?” she asked softly, without any harshness in her voice. Szofia nodded.
Natalia made a small inviting gesture. “Then go ahead. I suppose it’s better if we others keep talking and don’t watch?”
Szofia nodded again, a smile breaking way on her face. “Thank you,” she breathed before she knelt down next to Christina and whispered a few words in Russian, taking her fellow’s hands.
Natalia shifted a little and turned her attention back to the rest, purposefully facing away from Christina and Szofia.
“Anastasia, what was it you said again?”
“About your generation,” Anastasia said a bit more timidly, she had noticed her friends’ fear and guessed she hadn’t asked a smart question. However, she had been asked to repeat it. “I asked if they all failed.”
Natalia nodded, understanding.
“Yes,” she said, but there was something off about that answer, there ought to be some sort of emotion in there or maybe she had hesitated a second too long… “Yes, they did.”
Szofia slipped back to her seat, shyly smiling at Natalia who briefly looked at Christina who had blushed in embarrassment but was breathing regularly again.
Natalia opened her mouth, as if to say something, but then closed it again, abandoning her idea.
“Any more questions?”

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia was standing in Madame B’s office.
For an event that happened more than once a week these days, she was way too nervous. This was ridiculous, there was no need to be afraid… hopefully. But she wasn’t a trainee anymore, it wasn’t like she’d be killed or caused any lasting physical harm, she couldn’t be injured permanently because she had to keep up the façade and the scars on her chest were bad enough though they weren’t as prominent as they had used to be.
“I want your report on your progress with the second generation,” Madame B said, stashing some papers. “I have their results, of course, but it’s not easy to tell which part of it is due to your work.”
Natalia began her report with the usual small curtsey.
“I have trained them in almost every discipline by now, I think,” she started cautiously. “I believe I know their individual strengths, but I am not sure if I have made any significant change beyond that yet since I cannot see them in their usual training. In my opinion, ma’am, they are making progress during the lessons, to different degrees, of course.”
Madame B nodded impatiently.
“Yes, I suppose so. Have you been punishing them?”
Natalia considered it very probable that her way of training them wouldn’t be appreciated. She also knew the milky glass panel in the training room was a sort of one-way mirror and there was a chance she had been watched. Probably a rather high chance.
“They have been following my orders with discipline, ma’am. I have not ignored any mistakes, though, of course.”
“I see.”
The sound of the two words could only be described as threatening. She had been taught that mistakes resulted in punishment, no second try without a hit, one should be grateful to be allowed to continue at all. And that she hadn’t punished them didn’t really work with that rule.
“I expect you not to be easy on them, Natalia,” Madame B said. “You know that you could only reach your full potential through hard work and strict training, don’t you?”
“I do, ma’am, certainly.”
“We’d like them to reach their potential as well.”
“I understand, ma’am. I’ll do my best to bring each of them to the maximum of what they’re capable of.”
Madame B rose and neatly put the stack of paper into a carton box on the shelf.
"Do not waste your time," she said over her shoulder, her steel-blue eyes cold like the Antarctic. "There is a higher level to be reached, but not all of them will be worth the effort."
Natalia curtseyed and nodded.
“I understand, ma’am.”
Madame B dismissed her with a small gesture. Natalia curtseyed again and left the room. On the way to the refectory, she was feeling strangely nauseous. Had Madame B, once upon a time, regarded Trainee No. 12 ‘not worth their time’? Had she been a mere nuisance, being dragged along to the next level because she was too stubborn to fail? Had the effort spent on her been counted as a waste? Had she been nothing but one of the bunch, nothing that really mattered? Would she have been more than a side-note on a slip of paper if she had failed?
Maybe, Natalia thought with an uncomfortable shudder, maybe it’s a part of growing to realize that the only person your life matters to is yourself. That your feelings are only important to you, and to nobody else. That you might be the main character of your own story, but only a prop in everyone else’s. That you don’t matter to the big picture.
That you just don’t matter. Maybe that’s what I failed to learn until now.

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

One of my favorites? Again?
I really like the second generation a lot, and of course, I'm happy for Natalia that she finally gets a chance to care about others the way she wants to (I, too, have moments of niceness between my character torture sessions B))
Next episode will be another mission, this time outside of Russia, so that'll be exciting, hopefully :)

Anyway, I hope you have a fantastic week, leave kudos or even a comment if you're feeling generous and I'll see you for the next one (LOL, this might well be a yt outro XD)

Chapter 4: S2/04: Identity

Summary:

Missions come and go, sending Natalia around the globe and bringing her in contact with different cultures and mindsets. Watching everything from outside, she can’t help but wonder if there is a place for her in all of this…

Music piece: “The Show must go on” by Queen

Notes:

Quick Info:
"1984" is a dystopian novel by George Orwell. If you’re not familiar with the story, consider looking it up, it's worth a read even though I, like Natalia, was originally a little bewildered by it.
Winston Smith is the protagonist of the story, just so you know.

With that out of the way, enjoy :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Identity

◄◄◄►►►

The Transsiberian Train was advertised as a nice way to get to know the countries it traveled through. True, you could see great things if you looked out the window, beautiful mountains, the sea…
The young man in the four-person compartment closed the book lightly and turned his attention to his fellow passenger who was looking out of the window, a closed book in her lap. She was rather young, a student perhaps, traveling the country before settling down, just like he was. She sighed almost inaudibly, shifted a little, and looked at the book in her lap, an English one, he noticed as he spotted the title.
‘Murder on the Orient Express’
“Fitting book, huh?” he remarked, giving her a charming lopsided smile. She started, her eyes quickly flashed to the book.
“Ah, yes.” She laughed a little. “Not quite long enough, though, I’m afraid.”
“You’re out of reading material?”
“I underestimated how long this would take.”
He smiled again. “I could offer you this old hat if you want,” he offered, presenting the book he’d just finished. “You might know it already, of course.”
She bowed over, reading the title.
“1984? It’s a dystopia, isn’t it?”
“A controversial one, surely. It’s from a different time and quite western, against socialism and all that, and my copy is an English one, but I figured you might not mind since you are reading something British as well.”
She hesitated for a second before taking the old book.
“It’s been read quite a bit,” she commented, running her fingers over the soft pages. He shrugged.
“It’s a great piece of literature.”
She smiled slightly again before offering him her book.
“We could do an exchange, something a little more… light, maybe.”
“Murder? Well, if that’s your definition of light…” He laughed and took the book. “You’re right, Agatha Christie always makes me smile. I’ve read it before, but that doesn’t matter. Did you guess the twist?”
“No, not fully. I guessed the thing with the embroidered handkerchief, but I guess that’s only natural for a Russian native.”
“Possibly.” He smiled and opened the book. “I’m a horrible sleuth, but I think I’d do even worse in that world.” He pointed at the book he’d given her. “Have a good read.”
“You, too.”
He flipped the book open, it was perhaps not newer than his, but it seemed less loved, less read in. Certainly better kept, no dog ears, no pencil markings. While he was reading, he kept eyeing the woman from the corners of his eyes. She was a fast reader, her eyes ran over the page, concentrated. Engaged as she was, he saw no portrayed emotion on her face. She looked like she was reading a science book, not a novel. He noticed he was staring and focused on his book again.

◄◄◄►►►

I'll stain the pages.
It was a coherent thought, albeit a confused one. Natalia knew she had to let the book sink to her lap and wipe her hands or she’d stain the pages. But she couldn’t put it down.
Forcibly, her eyes stayed fixed on the yellowish pages, reading, almost against her will.
Somehow, this has to be inappropriate.
It wasn't a political sense of disgust, she knew the difference between capitalism and communism and had been taught how to fake an opinion on the matter, but she hadn’t been trained to be a patriot, that wasn’t needed for her job, she wasn’t meant to have real opinions on politics.
All of this was so wrong. The diary, the portrayal of the government, the fixation on sex… she wasn’t sure, but there was something about this that practically screamed ‘traitorous’ to her. She wasn't supposed to be reading this, she didn't want to read this, she had to read it and converse about it afterward. She had to form an opinion on it.
This was so wrong. It made her see things that weren’t there, parallels that were ridiculous. She wanted to go back to her murder mystery, it was easy to pick a side there and easy to know that she wouldn’t be in this story, not even as the villain. And in this one? Why did she feel like she would be in this story one way or another, like there were people she knew in these pages, with different names, but still there?
Natalia wished it was over. She should sympathize with the main character, that was the whole point of a protagonist, but she didn’t, she was afraid for him, but she also hated him for so many different reasons and Julia even more so and still she wanted them to win, to be free… She felt the pain when they were arrested and tortured, but it was just right that they would be, they had gone against the rules, they’d known it would happen. They’d trusted, how could they be so dumb?
And then he betrayed her, asked to torture her instead of him and she wanted to throw the book out of the window. How could he, it was his fault that he was punished, and hers that she was, he couldn’t just pass it on to her, that wasn’t how it worked…
She knew the ending was supposed to be horrible and it was, but it was also relieving. They’d obey now. They’d be okay, they wouldn’t be in pain anymore, everything would be in order now. It was alright now.
Her hands were shaking when she closed the book and put it aside. The young man was still reading, but close to finished. She got up before he could look up and left for the toilet, cell phone ready. She had to find a good review for this monstrosity, one for the outside world, not for reality.

◄◄◄►►►
[Intro]
◄◄◄►►►

 

INT. hotel room –day. The room is simple, it’s a cheap hotel, carelessly turned into something sort of “African” looking. The door is unlocked from outside. Natalia enters, a bag over her shoulder, dressed in jeans and a plain grey t-shirt. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, she looks tired and hot.
She drops her valise onto the bed and lets herself fall down as well, closing her eyes briefly.
After a while, she gets up again and walks over to the small bath, washing her face with water from the sink. As she rises again, her eye gets caught by the reflection of her face in the mirror. She frowns a little, remaining still and carefully studying her own features.

NATALIA V.O monotone like always when reciting a guideline It is not necessary for me to see my face. It’s a sign of vanity which is a weakness from the outside world. I should not be in need of a mirror to do anything.

Thoughtfully, she touches her face, feeling the features, her prominent cheekbones, her jawline, the bridge of her nose, her lips. The nail polish on her fingernails is chipped and she starts chipping at it again while she’s watching herself, spellbound.

NATALIA V.O thoughtfully I’m not sure if I’m vain, though… It’s fascinating to think that others see me like this all the time, that everyone knows my own face better than I do. I suppose thinking about my looks is vanity. I should stop this.

She draws her eyes away from the mirror and leaves the room, forcefully avoiding the reflection.
Back in the main room, she opens her valise and takes out a smaller bag and a bundle of colorful fabric. Unfolding it, it’s revealed to be a yellow dress with different patterns on it, very cliché African looking.

NATALIA V.O Let’s become a tourist, shall we?

CUT.

◄◄◄►►►

The market was buzzing with energy, the sun was burning down and the air was filled with chatting and the different sounds of a market, a donkey over there, the bubbling oil in a pan.
Natalia’s stomach grumbled as she walked by the wonderfully smelling food, but she already bought something at the airport and therefore her food budget was spent for this day. The yellow dress played around her ankles nicely and she understood why everyone was wearing loose stuff, it was just too hot otherwise. She’d put on sunscreen, but her shoulders were still getting a red tint already.
It was weird to be here, she was fully aware that she was standing out and her pseudo-authentic clothing only stressed her totally non-authentic red hair and pale skin. It was the point of this cover, she was a tourist, excited for the African culture, maybe a little tone-deaf how to execute it properly. She was meant not to fit in and thereby fit in perfectly, there were thousands of tourists like her.
Being on this bazaar was mostly useless, she’d bought a beautiful little pocket knife from a street seller because it had been easier than taking the good suitcase where you could hide knives or even guns from airport security. She wouldn’t keep it, of course, she’d have to get rid of it after the mission, but she really liked it anyways. Now she’d keep busy until nightfall, she’d already been to the location briefly, right after coming from the airport and it should be fairly easy to get in, no dogs, just three guards outside. Quite low security for the boss of a gang that controlled so much in the area, a bit like the mafia, lots of dirty money. Maybe he could appreciate that his life was worth half a million dollars to someone.
Natalia wiped her forehead briefly. It was so hot here…
After a few more minutes of strolling around and telling all sorts of people that she didn’t want anything, thank you, she sat down on a post at a corner, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked up. Russia didn’t have a lot of hot days per year and she wasn’t well accustomed to the heat. Her hair was falling out of the bandana she had kept it back with and she put it back again. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, taking in all the different smells and even noticing a slight hint of salt, the sea was not far away.
“Excuse me?”
Natalia startled and opened her eyes. A big woman who was obviously not a tourist had stopped next to her and was looking down at her worriedly. She was wearing a nicely patterned dress in shades of blue and had her dark curly hair done up.
“Yes?” Natalia asked, taken by surprise. She immediately noticed her rudeness. “I’m sorry, I meant, pardon?”
The woman frowned.
“Are you feeling alright, Miss?”
Again, Natalia took a few moments to find an answer.
“Pard… oh, yes, quite alright, thank you.”
“You have to drink much water, child, yes? You’re very pale, you get burnt.” The woman replied in a concerned voice and Natalia began to understand that she was probably looking like she was faint or had a sunstroke.
“Oh, really, I’m fine. I’m drinking enough,” she reassured hastily and smiled.
The woman returned the smile and in contrary to hers it was so genuine and amiable that Natalia felt bad.
“That’s good. You’re a tourist?”
Well, so much for the obvious…
“Passing through, yes.”
“You like it?”
Apparently, not everyone hated tourists. Natalia decided to go with the conversation. Everything else would be rude.
“Yes, it’s magical, isn’t it? I’ve never seen anything like it,” she answered with a tone of positive excitement.
“Where are you from, then?” The woman asked with interest.
“England,” Natalia said, keeping in mind her cover identity for this mission which was not well developed but did have a passport with a nationality on it. Even though, Natalia reflected, given the history of South Africa with the British, it might not be the best choice…
“Ah, yes. Red hair is common there, is it not?” The woman’s eyes twinkled merrily, gesturing at Natalia’s copper hair. Obviously, she did not care about colonial history.
“Well, I’d not say… but we do have quite a few.”
“Even your princes, right?”
What were they called again? Henry? No, Harry. And William.
“Right,” Natalia gave a laugh. “But I’m not royalty, that’s for sure !”
The woman laughed, too.
“You want to buy something, yes?”
She gestured at the busy market. Natalia considered how to get out of this situation nicely.
“No, actually I think I’ll find something to eat and take another stroll around town.”
“Eat something, huh?” The woman jumped to it joyfully. “Kakena will make good Samoosas today. You come with me, you can get some.”
This is all going very wrong, Natalia thought, but her stomach betrayed her as it grumbled at the thought of a nice meal. Again, the other woman gave a merry laugh.
“You are hungry, I see!”
“Oh no, I really shouldn’t…” Natalia protested. No involvement, she shouldn’t be remembered.
"Please, do come. We like having guests when they’re nice like you.” Her demeanor was amiable and inviting. Everyone should have been delighted at the invitation.
“That’s very generous," she said, her voice suddenly quiet. This wasn’t meant to happen. She shouldn’t be invited. This wasn’t part of the mission. “but I…”
“Oh dear,” exclaimed the woman in dismay. Her change in demeanor had not gone unnoticed. “You are sad, are you not? What makes you sad?”
“I’m not… it’s complicated…” Natalia found herself sounding tired. Whoever this person was, she’d picked the wrong person today. If she had the faintest idea who Natalia was she would never speak to her at all.
“It’s quite alright, really.”
The woman shook her head energetically. She put her hand on Natalia’s shoulder who managed not to flinch noticeably.
“You are sad, you come with Nthabi,” The woman, whose name was apparently Nthabi, insisted. “It’s very simple. We’ll make you happy again.”
“That’s nice…” But not that simple. Natalia didn’t argue, she didn’t even know what to say. Nthabi gently nudged her and she got up and followed obediently.
“Come along, come,” Nthabi encouraged gently. “Trust a fellow woman, we’ll make you happy again alright.”

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia had never been in an African living district before, in fact, this was the first time she had ever been to Africa at all. That was three more continents to go, then, North America, Australia, and Antarctica. All others she had visited through missions by now.
The houses were all looking like they were in need of reconstruction, but not as badly as Natalia had imagined by what she had learned about this country. There was an open spot at the end of the road with a fireplace in the middle that would supposedly be lit later in the evening. A few children were playing tag, laughing and screaming merrily.
Nthabi led Natalia to a seat near the fireplace.
“I think we’ll have food in a few minutes and we’ll all come together here. You wait, okay, I’ll look for the others.”
“Okay.” Natalia sat down, her bag behind her legs, hidden beneath her dress. She felt like she could feel the blade of the knife pressing against her leg even though that was certainly not the case.
Slowly, the spot began to fill, people sat down all around her. Natalia was feeling uncomfortable being stared at, mainly by the children. The reason why none of the adults seemed to care that a complete stranger had been brought to their midst Natalia figured out when she heard someone say in English "Nthabi brought a guest." Apparently, her acquaintance was known for bringing people for dinner. Still, she was relieved when Nthabi returned.
“We have a guest today,” she announced joyfully. “This is… I did not ask for your name, did I?”
Some of the people laughed. Natalia smiled, hoping it was appropriate.
“No, you didn’t. It’s Emely. It’s so nice of you to allow me to join in.”
She was collectively greeted, then dinner was served. She just handed the plate with some triangular pasties (the samoosas Nthabi had praised so much) when she felt someone tucking at her hair slightly. She turned around to see a small girl looking up at her curiously, smiling shyly at being caught.
“Your hair is pretty,” she said, smiling more broadly. Natalia returned the smile which the little girl took as an invitation to touch her hair again, running it through her fingers.
“Thank you,” Natalia replied softly. “But I love your braids. They’re looking quite beautiful on you.”
“Thank you,” The girl beamed happily and slipped away to her mother. Natalia smiled at the woman and took a bite of the samoosa.
“Do you like it?” Nthabi asked expectantly. Natalia swallowed and nodded.
“It’s great!” she said, meaning it. She really liked the spices and the overall taste of it very much.
For a while, chats were being held about all sorts of topics, ‘Emely’ was being asked about her travels and her life, which Natalia managed to make up on the spot. She asked things in return, inquiring about their jobs and if they had always lived here.
Nthabi was a secretary, a job which, Natalia thought, kind of fitted her. She’d get to do a lot of conversation that way.
Kakena, the woman who was responsible for the best part of the food, said she was working as a housemaid in a big house.
“A very rich man,” she said. “Has a pool and a big garden and all that. But quite nice, he really is. And his wife and his two children, too, very charming.”
“Why is he so rich?” Natalia asked. “Is he a politician or famous in some other way?”
Kakena shook her head.
“I don’t know what he is,” she said. “But he’s not famous, I don’t think, not outside of this town. Mr. Matongo, his name is. You have not heard of him, have you?"
Now, what were the odds of that?
Natalia kept her face expressionless as she shook her head. The less they talked about this man, the better. How likely could it possibly be that she’d run into the housemaid of her target of all people? And what had she said? A wife and children? That couldn’t… well, surely it was true, but she’d been badly informed in that case. The mission had just become twice as complicated, three potential eyewitnesses were bad news… Even though, depending on how old the kids were, they wouldn't be sleeping with their parents, now would they? It should be all fine in that case…
She managed to steer the conversation away from Mr. Matongo without giving any indication of interest in him. Later, there ought to be no connection between her and the events that would take place later this night. Which meant that she couldn't even take the keys from Kakena. She’d have to take the way through the window regardless.
Explaining why she’d been here in the first place in her mission report would be an absolute disaster.

◄◄◄►►►

After an hour or two, when all the food was eaten and a few songs had been sung, accompanied by two ukuleles and a few small drums, the assembly slowly dispersed and the chatting died down. The sun had gone down and it was getting cooler than Natalia had expected.
She was sitting by the fire, arms wrapped around her torso, staring into the flickering flames.
Nthabi came from one of the houses, loudly wishing someone a good night, and came to sit down next to her.
“Did we make you happy?” she asked hopefully.
Natalia looked up and smiled.
“It was a great evening, certainly,” she replied, fully aware that it had not been fully convincing.
Nthabi frowned compassionately.
“What troubles you, Emely?”
Well, first of all, that I am not Emely, Natalia thought sarcastically, but actually, it was the truth. The issue was that she wasn't Emely from Stratford who spent her year before college traveling the world for fun.
“I wish I knew who I was,” she heard herself say. “What the point of all this might be. If there’s a reason for anything.”
Surprised, she reflected on what she’d just said. It hadn’t been a lie, she was almost sure, but that was even more confusing. Somehow, Nthabi had a manner that made you want to talk even if you didn’t want to. She had to be more on her guard.
Nthabi sighed, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder again.
“That is a difficult question,” she said sympathetically. “There’s only one who knows the answer, the Lord above. He alone can tell you.”
Natalia knew what god Nthabi believed in, she’d been taught about religion, but she had also been taught that it was useless sentimentality and one should rely on reality and not ghost stories.
“I doubt the Lord would wish to speak to me,” she remarked calmly because even if you accepted the concept as true, she’d possibly be the one burning in hell in the end.
Nthabi shook her head enthusiastically.
“No, do not think like that! He is loving and generous. He can see people’s sins and forgive them. Lay your trust on him and you’ll be saved.”
He sees people’s sins… well in that case I am doomed. How would he forgive the things I do even though one of his central guidelines is you should not kill. There are some things he would not forgive, which is exactly why he wouldn’t help me, no matter if he exists or not.
Natalia smiled softly. Nthabi believed this, who was she to tell her it was wrong.
“I’ll consider it, Nthabi. Thank you for the evening, it was nice to… talk.”
She rose, putting her bag over one shoulder. Nthabi got up, too, pressing her shoulder gently.
“You can stay the night if you want, it’s very dark now,” she offered, a concerned tone sneaking into her voice once again. Natalia shook her head.
“No, thank you, I’ll return to my hotel in a minute, I’ve enjoyed more than enough of your hospitality.”
“No, dear, don’t mention it, but it is not safe at this hour…”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. I can defend myself, too, if I have to.” Natalia smiled confidently and made a little boxing gesture to prove her point.
Nthabi smiled, too, not fully convinced.
“You will have to be very careful, yes?”
“Don’t worry, I will be. I have to go now, though, I’ll be leaving tomorrow evening and have to catch some sleep. It was so nice of you to take me with you.”
"Oh, sure, it was delightful to have you with us, Emely. And maybe we’ll meet again someday...”
“We surely will if I’m ever close-by again, promise,” Natalia said heartily, adding silently not going to happen. “Goodbye, Nthabi, and thank you.”
She shook Nthabi’s hand and found herself being pulled into a hug.
“Goodbye, Emely,” Nthabi said, letting go and giving her a last broad smile. “I hope you find your peace.”

◄◄◄►►►

CUT. INT. villa –night. Natalia slips inside through a window, landing without a sound. She’s wearing a uniform we haven’t yet seen on her, a combat suit made up of a long shirt in the color of dried blood, naturally with the Red Room symbol, synched in at the waist by a belt, as well as black trousers and combat boots. Her hair is loose now. She looks older and way more put together than when she is forced to play a game, but it doesn’t look anything like the suit she’ll wear later in the MCU films.
She sneaks down the corridor without making a sound. The villa is exquisitely furnished, a stark contrast to the houses in the village. A security guard walks by, machine gun ready, but he doesn’t notice Natalia pressed into a niche spider style. When he’s gone, she continues walking, moving quietly, but quickly. Throwing a careful look, she enters a room and closes the door behind her softly.
She’s inside a bedroom, light falls in through the light curtains. In a massive bed, her target lies peacefully, his wife right next to him. Natalia pulls the knife from her boot and approaches the bed silently. Without a moment of wavering, she slashes his throat. Blood splashes everywhere, including her, his gurgling last breaths are horrifying to listen to, the mess takes around half a minute to pass, blood soaking the sheets. Natalia wipes her face, eyes resting on the woman who must be a sound sleeper, she doesn’t even move.

MADAME B V.O All people around the scene who could hinder your exit will have to be eliminated, even if there’s no immediate danger.

Natalia looks at the bloody knife in her hands. She knows what that means, but her mind rebels against killing the innocent woman. She’s visibly torn.
She startles and turns, listening carefully. There are tentative steps to be heard outside, approaching slowly. Natalia’s eyes widen.

NATALIA V.O No, not the children…

Horrified, almost moving on autopilot, she gets into position next to the door. It is opened, two small boys enter, around five or six, both in nightwear. Before they can see anything, Natalia has knocked them out and softened their fall. She closes the door again, looking down at them.

NATALIA V.O Shit!

She bows down, checking their pulses very gently, a weird contrast to the brutality she’s just used. They are both bleeding, but alive. Natalia shakes her head.
She rises, stepping over to the bed again. The man is dead, the main mission is accomplished, but she has to deal with the “witnesses”, too. Swallowing hard, she walks over to the woman and slashes her throat as well, eyes closed, a pained expression on her face. This time, the last moments of struggle seem hard for her to bear.
Shuddering, she steps away, covered in blood. The boys are still unconscious, she could easily kill them, but something holds her back. Wiping her face again, an expression of pure horror flashes over her face for a millisecond.

NATALIA V.O I’m just like this Winston Smith guy. I know it’s wrong, I know the consequences and I’m still about to do it. Why am I like this?

She clenches her fists, even her perfect body control fails her right now, she’s incredibly conflicted.

NATALIA V.O angrily I shouldn’t have touched that damned book!

She kneels down next to the children, raising her knife, but she doesn’t strike, she remains, trembling.

NATALIA V.O considering anxiously She’ll want to know why… Why didn’t I kill them? Everyone will know they’ve been attacked by me, I can’t possibly not kill them… They didn’t see anything, I could tie them up so they can’t scream… Too much effort, she’ll say I avoided it on purpose… breathing shakily I can’t possibly… I just can’t… I know I’m weak, but I can’t do it… Gotta be quick… Carelessness… Give them a chance… I shouldn’t be doing this…

She’s been sitting, knife raised, now she lowers it so it touches one of the boys’ chests. She’s breathing shakily, half-closing her eyes as she applies pressure, as it starts bleeding, carefully checking his pulse the whole time. She stops, pulling the knife out again. It’s bleeding, but not gushing out. Hastily, Natalia changes her position and repeats the procedure with the other boy. It definitely looks like somebody tried to kill them, but they’re both breathing. Quickly, Natalia rolls them both over to the side, a quick, somewhat helpless attempt at a recovery position.
She lifts her eyes up, to the ceiling, to the sky above.

NATALIA whispering If you exist, make them be found in time.

She looks at her work one last time before she goes to the window and slips out as she came.
[Black]
CUT. INT. Red Room, hallway –day. There are loud sounds of slapping and beating, followed by pained groaning.
CUT. INT. tiled room –day. Natalia’s head emerges from a bowl of water, she coughs violently, eyes widened in clearly displayed panic. Her nose and lips are bloody, her eye black, she’s been badly beaten up. Ivan dunks her head in again, a malicious grin on his face, enjoying when she struggles in fear.
CUT. INT. Madame B’s office –day. Natalia is standing in front of her superior like a beaten dog, wet, freezing, and injured. Madame B is furiously standing in front of her, towering threateningly over the trembling girl. Natalia is muttering subdued apologies constantly, but Madame B’s voice is much louder.

MADAME B Not checked, for Christ’s sake! You are trained for checking twice, three times! They were eyewitnesses and you didn’t kill them! This is your job!

She lashes out at Natalia who can’t escape the blow even though she flinches away.

NATALIA desperately I thought they were dead, Ma’am, I couldn’t feel any pulse or breathing, I really thought they were dead. And they didn’t see me, I struck them from behind, it’s in the papers, too, they didn’t see me…
MADAME B interrupting fiercely I don’t care how lucky you were! You had a clear order, no witnesses! I will prefer to call it carelessness rather than a sudden shift of compassion!
NATALIA I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m…
MADAME B Next time I tell you to kill someone, you do so, without hesitation, do you understand?
NATALIA breathlessly Yes ma’am, I do, ma’am.
MADAME B Come.

She grabs Natalia’s wrist painfully and pulls her along even though she would follow anyway. Madame B takes her to a room and opens the door. It’s a small circular room, windowless, floor and walls padded like in an old-fashioned asylum. Natalia flinches, fear flashes in her eyes, it’s clear she’s been in there before.

MADAME B You’ll have time to think about your failure.
NATALIA tonelessly Ma’am, I…

She looks up pleadingly but is met with a slap instead. Madame B’s face is stone cold.

MADAME B stingingly Get inside immediately.

Wincing, Natalia hastily obliges, the fear of Madame B is stronger than her fear of the dark room. Her begging eyes are the last thing to be seen as Madame B closes the door and the room turns pitch black.
[Black]
[Text: “Two weeks later”]
CUT.EXT. hospital –day.

REPORTER V.O Two weeks after the murder in the Matongo family villa in Capetown, we’re sad to report another strike of the mysterious assassin. The two children of the murdered couple who were injured during the attack were killed last night in the hospital they were recovering in.

Two stretchers are carried out, the bodies (invisible under white cloths) are being carried to a hearse.

REPORTER V.O cont’d Almost certainly, the crime has been committed by the same individual who also murdered Mr. and Mrs. Matongo.
MADAME B V.O sarcastically How nice that someone else did your work for you, isn’t it, Natalia?

CUT. INT. Airport of Rome –day. Natalia, dressed like a tourist and sitting on a bench, puts down the newspaper she’s just read.

REPORTER V.O fading Our community is shocked at seeing such a gruesome crime happen and aghast at the heartlessness of the individual who’s responsible for it.

Natalia is especially pale today. There’s a haunted look in her eyes, the treatment she’s received for her failure has clearly messed with her.

NATALIA V.O sarcastically, but in a tired way Now that was all worth it, wasn’t it?

She gets up and takes her backpack, leaving the newspaper. She walks towards the check-in.

NATALIA V.O War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength. Adding And life is death.

[Black]
[End Credits]
[Fade out]

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

Our first mission outside of Russia (Rather, the first we get to see), and such a trying one, too! I literally just now thought of that deleted scene from CATWS where Pierce mentions the "Children's ward" Like, this could be that, and I wasn't even trying :D
Also, samoosas are great, gotta say that.
I do enjoy the little cultural exchanges, and, as those of you who know my other fic "Coming back for you", I do love the padded cell idea. Btw, you can find an Easter egg from this chapter in that story as well, comment if you've found it :D

Next chapter will be... special (*masterfully building tension*). I had fun, make of that what you will.
Otherwise, if you liked this... You know the drill, k & c :) xx

Chapter 5: S2/05: Erasure

Summary:

Natalia tries her best to stay in line with her training when strange visions turn her ideas about herself upside down. She decides to investigate, ready to take the biggest risk so far.
TW: Mention of rape/underage

Music piece: “Nightmare” by Halsey

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Erasure

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia stared out of the car window into the dark.
Her wrists burnt from the wounds beneath the make-up, blood was running down a gash on her leg that had re-opened on the mission.
She was tired and could hardly withstand the urge of curling up into a ball and wrapping her arms around her shins.
The window to the front closed mechanically and she turned her head a little. Sergej was sitting next to her and now settled his feet on the seat. They’d been on the mission together.
“Are you hurt?” he asked for the third time, a worried frown on his face. She blinked.
“No, Sir.”
“You know my name’s Sergej. Be real. What are those wounds?”
Natalia sighed almost inaudibly.
“I’m fine, Sergej.”
He leaned over, trying to catch the look on her face. Haunted. Not as expressionless as it should be.
“Will you let me look at you?”
Natalia turned, her cheekbones almost breaking out of her pale face. He’d never seen anyone so tired-looking, so lifeless.
“I’m functional.”
That’s not what I asked, Sergej wanted to say, but he left it. Natalia was always on her guard around him, well, actually she was on her guard around everyone, except the little girls, it seemed like. Of course, she would feel more comfortable around someone who had been through the same as she had –even though she had never seemed particularly close with her fellows from the first generation. Sergej’s fascination with Natalia was of a different nature than the one he’d had for Olga. He didn’t feel anything for her sexually or romantically, she was more like a riddle, a mystery he wanted to solve. He couldn’t grasp her character, and that made her so interesting. Also, he had compassion for her. She had to be lonely.
"I think I got blood on the seat," Natalia remarked casually like she had merely stated the color of said seat. She lifted herself up and looked at it critically. "I should better clean it up."
She pulled her shirt over her head and started wiping the blood from the seat.
“Bastard,” Sergej murmured. Natalia flinched, her eyes flashed to him. “Not you. How did you get these?”
He knew how. He knew who had hurt her.
Natalia frowned a little bit, obviously confused.
“I was punished for wrong-doing,” she said, expressionlessly.
Sergej scoffed, then gestured at the seat.
“It’s okay, leave it. I’ll take care of the cleaning.”
Natalia frowned again, but obediently let the bloody t-shirt sink into her lap. She had goosebumps on her arms from just wearing a bra. After a few seconds, she put the shirt on again. The stain settled right above her heart.
“What did you do wrong?” Sergej asked then.
Natalia looked up again. She was looking so tired.
“I didn’t fulfill the expectations,” she said cryptically and he understood she didn’t want to discuss it.
For a long while, they sat in silence.
“You know the girls, the small ones,” Sergej half-stated, half-asked.
Natalia reluctantly looked at him again.
“I train them,” she answered.
“How are they doing?”
She frowned. “They are alive.”
Matter-of-fact, but not wrong.
“They’re being punished a lot more than you are.”
She had no idea where he was going with this, he could clearly tell that. Maybe she wasn’t that on-guard if she let him see that.
“They are still training,” she said quietly. “Naturally they are.”
“Don’t you feel sorry for them? For what they go through? With Petrovitch especially?”
Natalia frowned again.
“Do you mean when he takes them in?”
It was the phrase that Olga had always used. Sergej felt a wave of nausea run through him.
“He… they are so young!”
Natalia shrugged. “It doesn’t seem to bother him.”
No, Sergej thought, anger seeping through him, he probably enjoys it even more.
“Does he do it to you as well?”
“Occasionally.”
Sergej shook his head.
“You must have grown to hate all men,” he commented, the sarcasm failing to come through the gentleness in his voice. Natalia looked at him in confusion.
“I don’t understand,” she said politely.
“Never mind. I know you can’t refuse him, nor anyone else at the facility. You couldn’t even refuse me…”
Her eyes narrowed as she searched his face for the meaning of the sentence.
“No,” she said finally. “I cannot refuse you. I am trained to be obedient.”
Again, Sergej shook his head, baffled.
“You really see nothing wrong with that, do you?”
She blinked. “It’s what is expected of me.” Her silent question was echoing through the car. Was that a command? Are you expecting me in your bed tonight?
Sergej decided to stop tormenting her. He wanted to explain autonomy and dignity and other fine concepts, but what good would it do? She was everything but impressionable, an outside concept would only be met with aversion, at best with confusion.
The thing with Petrovitch, though… There was no way this was going on any further.

◄◄◄►►►

“No, yours are green…”
"No way, that’s clearly not green, it’s grey.”
It was a little of both, Natalia thought, shifting her weight. She was sitting on the floor of the training room in a circle with the young Black Widow trainees and they were discussing eye colors, because, in a house without mirrors, nobody knew their own eye color, you had to ask the others. Most likely, this was considered vanity, but she didn’t feel like telling them that, she understood the urge to know and didn’t feel like it did any harm.
“What would you say, Natalia?” Szofia asked. “What color are they?”
She was the one being discussed right now. Natalia bowed forward, inspecting her eyes.
“They’re… I’d say a muted green. There is quite a bit of grey in it, like a mossy stone. Stone green, what does that sound like?”
Szofia smiled. "That sounds so pretty."
“They are.” Natalia shrugged almost apologetically.
“Have you seen your eye color yet, outside?” Kira asked, her blue eyes shining.
Natalia was taken aback. She must have seen it, she’d looked into a mirror once or twice before, but she couldn’t name her eye color.
“I suppose I did. But what would you say? How would you describe my eyes?”
She found herself being heavily stared at by all of them.
“They’re green,” Olga said finally. “A very dark green.”
“Isn’t it called olive?” Ekaterina added.
“No, olive doesn’t look like that. It’s too dark. Dark olive, how’s that?”
“That’s fitting.” Szofia nodded.
“They’re almost like yours, Szofia,” Katja commented. “Just with brown specs instead of grey.”
Natalia blinked, focusing her eyes on Szofia again. It was hard to imagine them without the grey and with brown instead. How had she never closely looked at her own eyes? She knew all the eye colors of her long-gone fellow trainees and could even remember all those of the girls here with her eyes closed, but her own…
“You are good observers,” she said softly.
Dark olive with brown specs. Hazel maybe. She’d imagined something different when all that time ago she had been told her eyes were green. This was all very peculiar. Shouldn’t your eye color be something you naturally knew?

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia’s fists burnt, her hair hung into her face in sweaty strands. She never kept track of how long she had been working already, most of the time she would be interrupted at some point, either by the girls who’d come in for a lesson or by Madame B with a mission or sometimes by a sunray falling through the window into her eyes, signaling the day was nearing its end. Until then, it always felt like she had just started.
Actually, of course, it didn’t feel like she had just started, it felt like it had been going on forever, but that feeling of hers had usually been countered with ‘That was only thirty minutes’ during training and she had adapted to that.
Today, she trashed the punching back even more viciously than usually, her knuckles screamed like they were dying, but she kept going, not even wanting it to stop. She hadn’t slept well and it was nice to have something simple to do, something that didn’t require any thought. Not that she couldn’t think, she was trained to keep a clear head even with lack of rest –she just preferred this.
It had all started with that stupid talk about eye colors. She had checked on her next mission, staring into the hotel room mirror for several minutes even though she had not been supposed to.
She might not have called it green. There was a lot of brown in her eyes, too, though the darker green parts dominated them. It was a warm color, she had always thought of green eyes as rather cool-toned, like blue or grey. She had noticed a few brown spots on her skin, too, no freckles, birthmarks, they were called. According to the name, it seemed likely that they would have been there since forever.
Thinking about birth didn’t help.
Somehow, she had always believed she had been born at the Red Room, on the day that she first remembered, blurred as this memory was now. Then the new girls had come and she had –never really questioned what that meant for her. The fact that she did now was certainly not a good thing, but she couldn’t help it, not with everything that was happening.
When reading her share of crime fiction, Natalia had not found herself to be a master detective, mostly because she kept reading without stopping to make up her mind. She could piece together clues, though, and the puzzle in front of her had countless clues –she just wasn’t sure if there was a solution to it.
She hid the bag at the seams by mistake and winced a little as her knuckles gave in to the additional strain. Dammit. She was not concentrated enough, she shouldn’t show pain. At least no one had seen…
There were the practical clues, for one. Natalia knew for a fact that the new generation had not been born here, she had seen them coming in from outside. That meant they had come from somewhere, they had to. From outside. Most likely she had, too. Why couldn’t she remember any of it?
She also knew that she had been born way before she had come to the Red Room. She had been five years old when she had come here. But where had those five years gone? Was it natural not to remember your first five years? But that wasn't true either. The others had been older when they had come here and they had remembered nothing. Natalia remembered things from when she had been five, six, or seven.
It was like someone had made a clean cut. One didn’t just forget things all of the sudden without a reason.
Not that Natalia would have cared about the reason. Sometimes, things just happened without an explanation, that was not ideal, but she could have lived with it.
Hadn’t it been for the dreams.
She wasn’t sure when they had started exactly. Sloppiness. She was mad at herself for not knowing exactly, for not keeping track. But since they had started, they had reoccurred, almost every night. They woke her up, maybe that was why she cared so much. Waking at night messed with her inner clock and she found it rather irritating to be bothered with these dreams.
That was reasonable. She had to find out how to make them stop because they made her inefficient.
They were a strange mix of old lessons, random days, standing on the sidelines like an observer. It was surreal but still real. It was nothing she made up, everything had happened like that.
And then there was the fire.
Burning heat, smoke in her lungs, blurred shapes of a building she didn’t know. Not on the sidelines, right inside of it. She had never felt as inside in a situation like she did in this fire. It was real.
But it couldn’t be.
Natalia had never been anywhere close to a fire in her life, yes, one or two explosions, but she had only seen those from afar, she had never been inside one, there was no way she could know what it would feel like. It was so frustrating. She could tell her brain time and time again that dreams were like that, mixing reality and imagination, but she always kept coming back to it. But what if it is real?
Even if it was, Natalia thought, punching the punching bag so harshly like it was the idea she tried to smash, even if it is real, what would that matter? It can’t have been important or I would remember.
She kept punching and kicking the bag with as much strength as she could muster. It had been a while since her sides had hurt like that from turning too much. The monotonous work was supposed to ease her mind. It didn’t do a particularly good job, though.
What if the fire had been, in fact, important? It was very hot in those dreams, it must have been dangerous to be inside it. Why had she been inside a burning building in the first place?
She would have remembered something like that, surely… which again posed the question why on earth the cut was so clean. She couldn’t get it into her head that such a thing would happen naturally.
Just running in circles, Natalia scolded herself angrily as she spun around and sent the bag crushing against the wall from her kick, barely dodging it when it swung back. Yes, there was something before the Red Room, yes, I can’t remember that something, yes, there are fragments I can remember. Sherlock Holmes level deduction, really. Nothing to take from it, nothing to change it, nothing, and now get over it!
She knew that she tended to overthink stuff, it had often made everything harder for her in the past. It was better just to accept the situation and the rules without asking for the why or how. It wasn’t like knowing why or how she had forgotten would change anything, if it had happened naturally or something had been done… what did she care? There had surely been a reason for that.
She should have talked to someone while there had still been someone there. She couldn’t possibly ask Madame B about it, something about this whole situation screamed ‘traitorous’. She surely wasn’t supposed to be having these dreams.
She was being so stupid today! She never needed anyone else, she managed fine on her own –still she wished there was someone she could talk to.
Angrily, she threw herself into a combination. No more stupid thinking…
She opens the door of the toilet. Smoke fills the hallway. Flames are hissing not too far off…
Natalia gasped, landing sloppily. Now what was that?
After a second of stunned surprise, she resumed boxing, more determinedly. There was no way she’d allow the dreams to take over her days, too…
Punch, punch. Kick. Combination.
She’s running. The fire is closing in fast. She almost hits her head on a drawer.
Natalia shook her head quickly. Punch, punch. Kick. Combination. Punch.
Master Petrovitch sitting across the table in casual clothing, smiling warmly. He hands her a plate of prjaniki.
“I hope you like those…”
Natalia breathed in sharply. That part was new…
Fire. It’s getting hotter and hotter. She hears herself coughing dryly.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Head.” Natalia hissed determinedly. Punch, punch. Kick. Punch, punch. Kick. Combination…
The Red Room, but softer, lighter. A door that she doesn't recognize opens…
“Mama? Papa?” Her own voice, thin and frightened.
Punch, punch. Kick. Combination. Punch, punch. Kick. Punch, punch. Kick. Punch. Kick.
A chair like in a horror movie. Metal bonds. Mechanical noises.
Natalia gasped and desperately increased the frequency. Punch, kick. Punch, punch. Kick. Punch, punch. Kick. Punch, punch. Kick. Punch. Let it end…
But the pictures didn’t stop.
She’s tied up, her heart is beating painfully fast against her ribcage. The humming gets louder…
Fire… it’s getting too hot…
She needs to get out of this chair… Fire… The humming roars so loud now. The whole chair is heaving with power. Fire… Veronika’s corpse… a teddy bear on a bed… A blurred face, red hair… Ivan…
The chair powers up. Lightning hits her temples…
Natalia gave a scream of pain and collapsed to the floor, clutching her head. The swinging punching bag hit her sideways, knocking her to the floor. The pain was so intense… The world turned upside down as she lay there, the room flickered in and out of focus. Natalia whimpered in agony.
The ground vibrated as people came in hurriedly, alarmed by her scream.
Natalia could feel how they touched her and she vaguely heard them calling out her name, then everything faded to white.

◄◄◄►►►

Dazedly Natalia felt the bed swaying underneath her. She opened her eyes just to meet Madame B’s who was standing next to her, watching.
“Natalia.” More of a statement than a question. You are awake.
“Yes, ma’am.” Natalia sat up, taking support from the bed. The infirmary. She was feeling dizzy and her head was pounding so much…
“Can you tell me what happened?” Madame B’s voice didn’t sound angry, but not not-angry either. “You have been examined carefully and there is nothing that would explain you passing out.”
Apparently, she assumed Natalia knew what had happened. Which… was true. She knew that she had passed out. Why, that was a different question.
“I don’t really know, ma’am,” Natalia replied apologetically. “Everything is kind of blurred in my memory.”
Had she hoped to avoid an explanation this way she had temporarily forgotten where she was.
“Please try to concentrate, Natalia.”
Natalia straightened herself. How was she supposed to explain this? But also, what if it was dangerous? The pain had been real, physically real. What if they already knew?
“I think I was training.” She said slowly to buy herself time. “I don’t really know what happened, but… I had… a dream or a vision of some kind… It came very suddenly, ma’am, and I became quite… overwhelmed. I was in pain, too, but I don’t know why.”
It wasn’t the kind of explanation she was supposed to give. She looked down, expecting a few harsh words and a punishment and then being dismissed.
"What do you mean by dream?" Madame B asked, rather quietly. "What do you think you saw?"
Natalia gulped, taken aback by the unexpected softness. So maybe there was something to it…
“I don’t know…It was like being inside a situation, but I never was in the situation at all. Fire, I saw fire, mostly… and a machine, a chair of some sort, powered by electricity. It caused pain,” Almost against her will she touched her temple. “and I failed to compose myself. I apologize, ma’am, for having caused so much trouble. It was surely stupid of me.”
Madame B put a hand on her shoulder.
"You should learn to focus on reality, Natalia. I can't allow such ongoings like daydreaming or fainting during training, let alone on a mission. Giving in to this kind of imagination will seriously endanger you outside. You will need to combat these dreams and forget about them, do you understand?"
Natalia nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Madame B nodded, making her usual dismissive gesture that made Natalia get up almost automatically. She was still feeling slightly off, but she was physically alright and shouldn’t be squeamish about it.
“The second generation is in need of training.”
She curtseyed meekly. No such ongoings anymore. Hopefully.

◄◄◄►►►

Miron Derzhavin clicked ‘save’ on the document and spun around in his chair. Madame B strode to his desk, closed the document without further consideration – he knew she did that and had learned to save his work in time –and opened a voice recording on his computer.
Arms crossed, she waited for Miron to listen to the little interview she’d just had with Natalia.
“So, and what do we make of that?” she asked threateningly.
Miron raised an eyebrow. He was a nonchalant man who knew how to speak his mind without getting in trouble. Usually, Madame B wouldn’t bother him at all, he had developed the machinery and systems for everything mind-related the Red Room required. Occasionally he tried new things or helped with new punishing methods but in general, he was here because he was provided with free board and lodging which was all he needed while writing his book. Madame B wouldn't have admitted it, but he was better at getting into other people’s minds than she was, and she had learned a lot from him.
“It seems like memories from her early days are coming back to her,” he stated the obvious. What else would she want to hear?
Madame B’s cheeks flushed with anger.
“I thought these memories had been erased! I was assured…”
Miron interrupted her, politely but firmly.
“We’re tampering with the human brain. We could not be sure what would happen at any given moment. Look, it’s like a hard disk,” he continued, voice calming. “We tried clearing everything on it, but there were things that stayed, non-declarative memories, general knowledge, skills. You can’t erase those, nor did we want to. However, in keeping these things it’s only logical there might be connections that lead to declarative memories, also episodic ones that we tried to erase.”
“And with all that technical jargon, you want to tell me what?” Madame B shot back.
"Well, not all of it was deleted. Apparently, there are remains that were just suppressed."
“I cannot have that. It distracts her.”
Miron shrugged. He didn’t see any practical solution for the situation.
“Tell her it’s just dreams.”
Madame B scoffed.
“Well, I do not intend to tell her anything else!”

◄◄◄►►►

Ivan Petrovitch stopped dead at the sight of the young man casually leaning against the doorframe to the dorm. He had only contempt for Sergej, his relationship with Olga had been only wasted time and effort when you could have them without it. Way too much sentimentality for someone who was nothing more than a dog. Pathetic.
“Get out of the way,” he commanded roughly. Sergej straightened his back and crossed his arms, blocking the door.
“Leave it, Petrovitch.”
Ivan was so baffled that he almost stuttered.
“What was that?” he asked threateningly.
Sergej shifted his weight.
“I said, leave it. You can beat these girls up during their training all day, at least at night they deserve to be left alone.”
Ivan laughed, loudly and maliciously, and inside the dorm nine little girls flinched, recognizing the feared cackle.
“Deserve!” he exclaimed. “The only thing they deserve is a bullet! I’m allowed to do whatever I want to them, there is nothing you could forbid me! Deserve!” He spat out the last word.
Sergej didn’t back down.
"Yes, they deserve! They deserve to get enough sleep to complete their training. They deserve their body to be theirs.” They deserve a life, a real life outside of here, but that is too risky to say aloud. “I’ve been wanting to tell you, Petrovitch, you are not a coach, you’re a sadist and you deserve that bullet more than any of them do!”
He had not planned to get heated, he had just wanted to shield the girls for this night, but then Olga had come to his mind and her pain and Petrovitch’s malicious glee at her death and he’d just lost it… He’d gone too far. Petrovitch was influential and Sergej didn’t have the strongest position at the Red Room, even Madame B had once hinted at the fact that she wasn’t content with the nature of his involvement with Olga. Not distant enough.
“You son of a…!” Petrovitch yelled and hurled at him, placing two of his famous punches that all the trainees knew so well. Sergej groaned, shielding his face and chest, but Petrovitch was strong and pretty angry at that.
Sergej was bleeding at several places and just scrambling back up when Petrovitch’s communicator made a sound and he –thankfully –got distracted.
“What?” he hissed.
Sergej could hear Madame B’s voice, quietly, but sharply enough to understand.
“We have someone strolling around. You have to check on it.”

◄◄◄►►►

This was so ridiculous. Natalia’s feet made no sound on the cold floor as she crept through the silent Red Room. I made this thing up, there’s nothing to it and I’m not supposed to be here…
On missions, she wasn’t nervous when she was sneaking around, but now she was shaking all over, her body trying to tell her to turn around, she didn’t even know whether this chair was here or what it did, the conclusion that it had something to do with her life prior to the Red Room was extremely farfetched…
And still… why was Master Petrovitch there, in casual dress, in the same casual dress in fact that she had another snippet with, the one in the café or restaurant –it was absurd, being in a restaurant with Master Petrovitch and him smiling and giving her food… That must have been before the Red Room, there was no other way… it wasn’t like he didn’t wear the shirt she remembered occasionally, she knew he owned a checked shirt like that, but the exact same thing twice in this dream… it might well be a coincidence... most likely it was… why was she doing this again?
Because I have to know. Because I need to know what happened and if there’s a way to remember… Because I need to know if they created me.
Maybe if she found the chair and learned how it worked she could get her memories back.
Surely they wouldn’t let her. If they had done something to her mind they wouldn’t want it to be reversed. What was she even thinking? This was worse than any time she had worked around the mission directive, this was straight up treason…
She was shaking so hard that her eyes went blurred and she had to stop for a few seconds to breathe.
She’d do this quickly, they wouldn’t notice… She’d not hurt anyone in the process, it would help her concentration and efficiency…
She started walking again. It was too late to go back anyway. She had to do this or she’d have to battle the temptation and uncertainty every day and night. Thankfully, her mind decided to give her a quick break from the raging guilt and focused on finding the thing she was looking for.
She let her intuition guide her and was surprised at how secure her steps were. When she recognized the corridor a chill of excitement ran down her spine. Damn, she hadn't felt that alive in years!
She walked faster now, almost running. Three doors to go… two… one… that was it!
Natalia clenched her fists in silent triumph. She wasn’t crazy. That room existed.
She wasn’t supposed to go in here, it was labeled as an office and she wasn’t supposed to go into these rooms, but she’d already crossed the line of forbidden by a great length tonight.
It wasn’t locked, why would it be? No one unauthorized would have dared to enter... Normally.
Natalia breathed through, opened the door -and stood in the room that was without a doubt the one she had seen in her dreams.
The chair was there. She had thought it bigger, it seemed to be made for kids only.
Natalia reached out for the metal carefully, the mere touch causing a cascade of non-visual memories to break through. She had been afraid before, but the raw, wild fear that this chair stirred up in her was so much more… there was so much mixed with it, pain, shock, sadness… it was so pure.
Natalia pulled her hand away, the certainty so sickening and hard that she had to take a step back.
Something terrible had happened here, to her. This had been the end to… to something.
Natalia walked around the chair, noting the cables and the layer of dust. It wouldn’t be easy to get it to work… and then, what did it do? Could you reverse what it had done?
Natalia put a hand on her aching temple. It had been stinging ever since she’d come in here. Something was wrong with her, something had been destroyed, something in her mind. Something had…
A gun was unlocked.
Natalia spun around to face Master Petrovitch who stared at her, face contorted in a cruel grin.
“I’ve found the intruder,” he said to the person on the other side of his communicator. “The little redhead, like you thought.”
She didn’t even try to apologize or explain. She just stood still, hands lifted up, slowly coming to the realization that that was even more ridiculous than not doing it, because seeing her hands didn’t mean anyone was safe, it usually meant she was pretending to give up. She didn’t put them down, not wanting to move. Petrovitch was smirking at her, clearly exhilarated by catching her red-handed… he actually had blood on his hands, Natalia noticed nervously. It wasn’t hers… had he done something to one of the girls?
She wished he’d take the gun down so her mind would stop playing the scenario of disarming him on repeat. She wasn’t allowed to.
She didn’t need anything more than the footsteps outside to know Madame B was approaching. She had gotten dressed, probably in a hurry, her hair was loose. This little detail was strangely disrupting, Natalia had an irrationally strong urge to ask “Could you please put your hair up?”
Madame B was accompanied by a pale, lanky man who Natalia knew, she didn’t know his name or what he did, but he ate in the refectory, too. She didn’t like him, for no specific reason, he made her skin crawl. She was decidedly glad he stayed by the door, in the background, even though that meant she couldn’t see what he was holding in his hands.
"What are you doing here, Natalia?" Madame B asked, the disappointment oozing out of her voice. Natalia took her hands down and lowered her head a little. Her own thought almost made her flinch because it was so sharp and loud.
Why are you backing down?
She clenched her fists nervously.
“This is the chair I saw.” Her voice trembled. “In my vision. I thought it was here… but you wouldn’t believe me…”
Madame B came closer, finally waving Petrovitch to put down the gun and lifted up Natalia’s chin.
“Do I understand correctly that you have consciously gone against our will because of a daydream?”
“No… I…” In vain, Natalia tried averting her glance. “I just wanted to check… I had to know if it was real…”
The grip on her chin tightened.
“Stop stammering, Natalia. Yes or no?”
“Yes… but it’s not a dream, it’s real…”
Madame B shook her head.
“That is quite impossible. You can’t possibly have seen this machinery, unless... unless you have been sneaking around here for the last years.”
Natalia managed to shake her head. “No, no… this is… I’ve never… I’ve seen it before, before the training, before all of it. I remember…”
Again, Madame B interrupted her with a shake of her head.
“This is ridiculous, Natalia. This machine was built way after you started your training and you have never entered this room. You see it’s quite absurd to claim you remember it.”
A shiver ran through Natalia’s body. All her fear of punishment was replaced by sickening confusion. None of this made any sense…
“But how would I dream of it if I have never seen anything like it?” she protested weakly. “I didn’t make it up… I saw it, it looked exactly like that!”
She hadn’t seen the slap coming and didn’t brace herself well. The slight understanding she had thought to see with Madame B had disappeared completely and was replaced with impatience.
“Stop making a fuss, Natalia. You’re forgetting your place.”
Natalia drew a shaky breath.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she murmured.
Madame B nodded and took a step back.
“We’ll discuss your punishment tomorrow.”
“Ma’am?” Natalia’s voice was only a whisper.
“What is it?” Madame B asked sharply.
Natalia was shaking, but she still pointed at the chair.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, what is this thing? What does it do? It does something to your mind, doesn’t it? Does it take away memories? Did it take away mine?”
It was like she had never noticed how much taller than her Madame B really was.
“Now, this just crossed a line, Natalia! Have you completely forgotten who you are?”
Natalia flinched, but she was way too upset to deny herself any longer.
“Yes, that’s just it… I just want to know who I am… Please…”
The man by the door stepped forward, putting a hand on Madame B’s shoulder.
“I’m afraid she’s quite unstable right now, ma’am. I suggest you let me help her.”
She turned around to him.
“Are you saying she’s out of her mind?”
Instinctively, Natalia took a step back, clenching her fists. The man shrugged.
“A temporary fit of insanity. Nothing a treatment couldn’t fix.”
Another step back made Natalia’s back hit the chair behind her.
“But I’m not crazy, ma’am.” She was half-aware that it didn’t sound convincing, but what else was there to say? “I’m… I just want to know the truth. What did this thing do to me?”
Madame B’s demeanor had changed. When she took a step towards Natalia now, she seemed more worried than angry.
“Natalia. Calm yourself. You’re not well. We’ll be able to help you.”
Natalia tried backing away, but her back was only pressed further against the chair.
“I’m fine,” she protested. “I’m not crazy.”
“Natalia. It’s alright, you will be helped. Now come on.” She reached out to touch Natalia’s shoulder.
Backing off, Natalia slipped, landing roughly right on the chair, ribs hitting the metal. It was the two-second snippet of metal tying her up that broke her composure. Scrambling back up, she had only one thought: Get away.
She slipped again, failing to get away from the chair and Madame B was blocking her exit… and the man held a breathing mask… She hit her ribs again but finally got off the chair, tumbling to the floor.
“No,” she whispered tonelessly. “No, no…”
Madame B made a little gesture.
“Restrain her.”
Natalia felt Master Petrovitch’s arms shut around her body.
“No, please…” She couldn’t struggle, he was her coach…
The other man approached, the breathing mask thing ready. Panicked, Natalia tried to back off, but Petrovitch held her tightly and forced her to stay.
She held her breath, for pathetically few seconds, but then she had to breathe in and inhale whatever was in there. Not even she knew exactly what the muffled sounds out of her mouth actually meant. The stuff she inhaled made her sight go blurred and everything suddenly decreased in speed. It was enough for her to fight back, trying to free her hands and pull it off.
Suddenly, Madame B was right next to her.
Oh please, Natalia, she seemed to be thinking, why waste your strength like that?
“Sonbucca,” she whispered into the girl’s ear. That was the last thing Natalia remembered.

◄◄◄►►►

It wasn’t fair that Sergej was the one to explain matters to Madame B since he was the one who had gotten his share of punches, but, again, Petrovitch was just more in Madame B’s favor than he was.
He had found her in a rotten mood and unusually hectic, she had barely listened to his down-to-earth explanation as to why he didn’t think Petrovitch’s doing was efficient for the girls’ training, that it tired them and might even cause them injuries. He felt sick listening to himself but it was the only way he could even try to reason with her.
Now she looked at him for the first time.
"You are very confident in your judgment," was all she said.
Sergej shrugged. “I have opinions like everyone else does.”
Except for the girls, he added silently, they can’t afford them.
“I have always suspected that your emotional involvement –“ she said it like someone would talk about a disgusting skin rash “did not only extend to one of the assets.”
“Person,” Sergej interrupted. “Person is the right word right there. Girls. The younger ones, children.”
“Be quiet,” Madame B scolded impatiently. “I have more urgent problems to worry about and would prefer you wouldn’t waste my time.”
“Okay.” Sergej raised an eyebrow. “Then how about we get this over with. Do I get expelled? Do I have to scrub the toilets for a week?”
He was so done with this. He’d leave as soon as she dismissed him. Should they hunt him. Should they drag him back. What did it matter?
He had expected it in some way, in some way he had known it all along, since the day he had told Olga they would leave.
Still, he hadn’t foreseen Madame B’s quick reach beneath her skirt. Maybe no one ever does.
The bullet hit him by surprise.

◄◄◄►►►

Don’t move.
Natalia kept her eyes closed and tried to quieten her breath so she could make out the noises around her. It was so deadly silent she could almost hear the house groaning. She opened her eyes, blinking in the sudden light.
She was entirely alone, in the infirmary as far as she could tell. She breathed out in relief and wanted to sit up but she couldn't move. Instead, the room started spinning around her and she sank back, falling unconscious once more. She woke after a few seconds only to drift off again. For the next minutes, she slipped in and out, unable to regain control over her body.
Even when she was finally relatively stable she felt sick and shaky. The drug they had used on her must have been pretty hard. She wished she didn’t remember what had happened. She’d be punished worse than ever for this.
She clenched her fists and tried moving once more. This time she knew right away why it wouldn't work. She was stripped down to the bed, feet tied to the frame, her upper body immobilized by a straitjacket. She could feel every single tie pressing against her body, her heart beating painfully right against one of them. Even though she was not actually choked by the jacket she felt like she couldn't breathe.
Nothing a bit of treatment couldn’t fix…
Her fists were damp with sweat, a strand of hair fell in her eyes and stayed there no matter how hard she tried to blow it away. Natalia pulled at the fabric with her teeth trying if she could rip it apart. Hopeless. This was different from being handcuffed. This wasn’t a restriction. This was helplessness.
But they must know I’m not crazy.
Natalia’s eyes widened in terror as she fought against her bonds mindlessly. Did she even know that? Did she know that she wasn’t out of her mind? And even if she wasn’t, if they said she was, who would prove them wrong? She couldn’t prove anything, they’d just shut her down again…
Out. Now.
Natalia managed to breathe through. She shouldn’t waste her strength by struggling. She had to wait and see, there was no other way…
She closed her eyes again, just in case someone would come and look for her she wanted to pretend she was still a good deal more sedated than she actually was. Which was not much of a challenge really, she didn’t think she could even place a proper punch in that state.
She didn’t know how much time had passed and how much of it she had spent awake when Madame B and the weird man entered the room. He must be a doctor of some sort, then… But he had never examined her… She could clearly make out their voices and the topic they were talking about wasn’t too difficult to guess either.
“It causes disobedience and rebellion in her.”
“She is confused, ma’am, because the procedure hasn’t worked perfectly on her. It’s been 13 years and we used a new method, it’s bound to have some flaws.”
“No need to tell me that. I still need a solution for this.”
“Do you consider a refresh?”
“Would that be possible?”
Natalia almost wished she had been more confused. But she was horribly sure about what they were discussing.
“I can’t guarantee anything. There might be problems again after some time.” The man spoke in a painfully neutral way, not at all as if he actually cared.
“You cannot select, I presume?”
“No.” He said it with certainty. “Delete all or leave it.”
Natalia felt sick with fear, cold sweat soaking through her clothing. It took all her mind’s discipline to not move or scream. They couldn’t, they couldn’t erase her again! They weren’t allowed to take it away, she needed to remember!
“How about her training? Physical won’t be a problem, I suppose, but her education, would she keep that?” Madame B didn’t sound opposed at all, more interested really.
The man sighed. "This is quite complicated. The languages, skills acquired, she would probably keep, but forget how she learned it. She might lose quite a bit of her mental training, loyalty to the program, and all that, but you could teach her again, possibly with less time and effort."
“Well, it might help to get her back on course,” Madame B mused. “Is there anything more you have in store? The artificially created memories you mentioned, is that a possibility?”
Her voice turned into an indistinct mumble in Natalia’s head. Even though her eyes were closed, the room seemed to turn upside down. The last feverishly frantic thought “Don’t erase me… I’ll be better… I won’t fail you…” already trailed off into darkness.

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

Oops, I did it again, I tortured my main character...
(I had so much fun)
Does retrograde amnesia work like that? I don't know, but Jason Bourne had flashbacks, so Natalia gets flashbacks.
The real question is, what the hell happens next?

Also, a funny bit of headcanon that I can't help sharing:
At one point at the beginning of Natalia's fieldwork, Madame B once walked into Miron's office, closed his file, and asked if there was something to do about the girl's hair color permanently since red isn't the best color for a spy.
Miron, angry to have lost some of his work, looked her dead in the eye and said "She isn't a flamingo, you can't just feed her fewer carrots and hope her hair color changes." He never made an effort to find a solution and thus, Natalia's hair color stayed what it was.

[Edit: Since I apparently created a bit of confusion, sorry for that, Sergej's actually dead. I can't think of a way to fit it in organically anywhere at the moment, so yeah, here's an info-bit, that's good writing, right?]

Chapter 6: S2/06: Made of Marble

Summary:

After her failed attempt of finding herself, Natalia is left defeated and burnt out. Her weariness doesn’t go unnoticed by the second generation, but the Black Widow stays distant and nothing seems to get through to her…

TW: Unconsensual drug use, mention/implication of drug addiction, sth like that.

Music piece: “Zombie” by The Cranberries and “Centuries” by Fall out Boy

Notes:

Since there was a bit of confusion in the last chapter, I just wanted to clarify that Sergej is actually dead, I didn't phrase it clearly enough, sorry about that... For reasons that will soon be obvious to you, I cannot really clarify it inside this chapter, so you'll have to take the note... Sorry.
Hope you enjoy xx

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Made of Marble

◄◄◄►►►

[Fade in]
INT. Red Room, hallway –day. The girls from the second Black Widow generation walk by, dressed in combat pants and t-shirts. They are talking to each other indistinctly, but fall silent immediately when Ivan walks past. After they’ve made sure he’s gone, they continue their conversation.

SZOFIA I’m so glad they send us to her. That must mean she’s better, right?
OLGA I wonder what happened. The Black Widow doesn’t get sick just like that…
POLINA She’s a human, like everyone else, she can’t help it.
OLGA roughly She’s not like everyone else. She’s stronger, more resistant. She won’t get sick easily.

CUT. INT. infirmary –day. Olga and Irina enter the room to get an injury treated. Natalia is lying on a bed, eyes closed. Her fists are clenched and there’s a strained expression on her face that’s covered in sweat. Olga stops dead, staring at her, wide-eyed.
CUT. INT. hallway –day. The girls open the door to the training room. Natalia is sitting on a chair, head resting on one hand. Her eyes look dead, she’s unusually inactive. The girls remain at the door, intimidated by her tiredness. Natalia looks up, nodding wearily. They enter and Szofia timidly steps over to hand Natalia the usual note.

NATALIA reading, absentmindedly Spasiba.

Szofia backs away to the others. Natalia crumples the paper between her fingers.

NATALIA wearily In pairs… as usual.

They pair up routinely. Natalia wants to stand up for a moment, but then stays seated.

NATALIA You can start.

They do a combat combination, relatively synchronously, but Natalia spots several mistakes at once.

NATALIA Again.

The word echoes while her face morphs into Ivan’s for a split second. A collective flinch runs through the girls, they stare at her in shock. Natalia shakes her head slightly.

NATALIA I meant, start over, please. Ten times each.

They obey but make even more mistakes this time. The use of Ivan’s phrase has shaken them. Kira falls, whimpering with pain.
Natalia rises and Kira scrambles to her feet, eyes flashing with fear. The others watch, equally scared for her reaction. Natalia steps up to Kira, there’s nothing of her usual grace about her.

NATALIA Olga, Szofia, yours looks quite good. Can you show the others, please?
OLGA voice breaking Yes, Natalia.

Natalia nods and goes to Kira who’s holding her wrist to her body, unsure if she’s supposed to go back to training as well. Natalia extends a hand.

NATALIA softly Show me.

She carefully moves Kira’s wrist which causes the younger girl to wince with pain.

NATALIA It’s not broken, just sprained. Come.

Kira follows her and lets her bandage the injury. Natalia’s hands are trembling.
The door is opened confidently, making everyone start, including Natalia. Ivan enters and everyone curtseys at his sight.

IVAN I take this class He looks around disapprovingly Why are you not working?

Hastily, the girls go back to practicing. Natalia looks at Ivan, puzzled. She ties up the bandage without looking and subtly shoves Kira back to the others.

NATALIA Sir?
IVAN Madame B’s office. New mission. Now.
NATALIA curtseying Yes, Sir.

Her manner is subdued and withdrawn. Almost unaware of herself, she corrects some mistakes on her way out.

IVAN sharply Now, if you don’t mind!
NATALIA startled Excuse me, Sir.

She leaves, closing the door without looking back.
CUT. INT. dorm –night. The girls are sitting on their beds, close to one another. Christina is crying silently, her head in Irina’s lap. The other girl is stroking her hair. The others seem equally confused and sad. Finally, Szofia says what they are all thinking.

SZOFIA voice trembling She was so different.

The others nod.

IRINA carefully Maybe she’s still recovering…
POLINA matter-of-factly Or maybe we’re approaching advanced training and she wants to toughen us up.
SZOFIA No, she wouldn’t…
OLGA roughly What do you mean she wouldn’t? She would if it’s what’s necessary. If there’s a lesson we need to learn, she would teach us!
SZOFIA But do you really think…
OLGA It doesn’t matter what I think!
KIRA holding her bandaged wrist If she’s not well, we should be worried about her. She cares about us, too, it’s only fair.
OLGA much angrier than the remark justifies She’s our coach, for hell’s sake, not one of us! She could have us fail just because she feels like it! She trains us because she has to! Not because she cares!
KATJA stricken But she cares! She does, she has to!
OLGA roughly Oh, come on, as if you really believe that!

Her remark leaves the others in stunned silence. Olga turns away, face sad, tears shimmering in her eyes. Szofia notices the impact the sentence had on the others. She crosses her arms.

SZOFIA firmly I do. Natalia has always treated us differently from the other coaches and put in more effort than she needed to. Why would she do that if not for our sake?
POLINA nodding Szofia’s right. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions too fast, Natalia was sick for a bit and she might be back to normal next time.
EKATERINA quietly I hope you’re right…

Polina and Olga notice her remark, so does Szofia. She looks around, seeing Christina has her eyes closed, breathing regularly. She turns to Ekaterina.

SZOFIA What do you mean, you hope?
EKATERINA embarrassed No… it’s nothing… just a feeling, you know? Like something has changed with Natalia, and that it’s not just recovery. She seemed… maybe I’m just being stupid, probably I am…
IRINA Come on, we won’t judge.
EKATERINA She seemed, I don’t know, kind of… The way she curtseyed to the Master, it was different. Normally, it’s respectful and all, but today she seemed so… subdued, like she had done something wrong.
SZOFIA nodding thoughtfully That’s true, though.
ANASTASIA Maybe they found out she’s too nice with us and punished her for that.

The others consider for a few seconds. Kira shakes her head first.

KIRA quietly She wouldn’t have had to bandage me up. She could have told me to do it myself or let me train regardless, but she did it herself.
SZOFIA Exactly. She corrected my stance, too, so the Master didn’t punish me. That’s not what’s changed.
EKATERINA She seemed… transparent, somehow. Like she was hardly there…

Olga turns. Her anger has faded and she is more interested in the discussion. Nobody holds a grudge against her, they’re used to this kind of behavior.

OLGA Do we know what caused the sickness she had?
IRINA When we saw her, it looked like she was running a fever, a serious one, but nothing special about it.
OLGA But she was totally fine on the day before. Also, only a fever, nothing else? Doesn’t that seem weird to you?
POLINA What you’re suggesting…
OLGA I am not suggesting anything. I find it weird, that’s all. Probably there’s nothing to it.

CUT.INT. infirmary –morning. Natalia, still tied up and unconscious, is lying on her bed. Madame B is standing next to her. Miron, the doctor from the last episode, approaches with a dangerous-looking syringe. He injects the liquid into Natalia’s neck. She doesn’t react, her head falls to the side limply.

MIRON Now, that should do. A few days and a bit of talking should be much more efficient than deleting everything.
MADAME B I hope it will solve the problem.
MIRON It will, very likely. The drug is highly hallucinogenic and her temperature will get high enough for some very confusing dreams.

[Overlay] Natalia is moving wildly in her sleep. Distant screaming and frantic laughter mix with snapping pictures of her memories, containing fire and lightning, but also her dead fellows in a zombie-esque style. Natalia is clearly tormented by what the drugs make her go through.

MIRON cont’d It will be almost impossible for her to tell reality and imagination apart. It should be fairly easy to convince her she’s never strayed from the path. Especially since it will never be mentioned again, nor will she be punished for it in any way. This whole episode will have never occurred.

Natalia’s feverish body becomes solid. She’s still moving, crumpling the damp sheets between her fingers. Miron approaches her, injecting another syringe. She whimpers but isn’t awake enough to fully be aware of his presence. The new injection is followed by a painfully vivid replay of the wiping process, only that it’s not her as a child, but her present self. In her sleep, Natalia utters a silent scream.

NATALIA V.O weakly, confusedly I’m sorry,… ma’am, I… I won’t fail again, I promise, I…
MADAME B V.O Natalia. You have not failed at anything. You were ill and had some very vivid hallucinations, I should imagine. But it did not happen in reality.
NATALIA V.O But… but I remember…

CUT.INT. hallway –afternoon. Natalia is walking through the hall, carefully checking her back. She approaches the room with the chair in it, frantically opens the door –and is standing in a regular office, computer and desk, but nothing unusual. She gasps in terror, taking support from the wall, threatening to collapse.

MADAME B cont’d Nothing out of the ordinary has occurred, Natalia. You’re a bit confused, but that’s a mere result of the illness. You will quickly shake it off.
NATALIA V.O Won’t… won’t I be punished?

CUT. INT. infirmary –afternoon. Natalia is at the top of the bed, leaning against the frame. She’s pale and still weak-looking, but the most prominent is her clearly displayed confusion. Madame B is standing next to her.

MADAME B cont’d, laughing dismissively What would you be punished for, Natalia? For falling ill? No, no, I know you will be back at your usual level quite soon.
NATALIA on the edge No, for failing…
MADAME B shaking her head, slightly impatient I already told you, Natalia, you haven’t failed at anything. We do not have a reason to be discontent with you. You will get the rest of the day to recover, tomorrow you will get back to work.

She puts a hand on Natalia’s shoulder. The girl doesn’t resist her, her posture falls, she’s given up.
CUT. INT. hallway –afternoon. Natalia sinks to the floor by the wall, burying her face in her hands.

NATALIA voice breaking But I remember… her words and Madame B’s laughter echo.

CUT. INT. dorm –night. The girls can’t really let go of what has just been suggested to them.

KIRA Do you really think they would cause her to get sick?
OLGA If they did, which we don’t know, they would surely do it for a good reason.
POLINA As a punishment, maybe.
OLGA frowning What would Natalia need punishing for?
POLINA Well, I know you don’t think of it like that, but Natalia used to be like us, and we do things wrong all the time. She might have slipped out of her usual perfection and done something she shouldn’t have done. Maybe it was about us, maybe it wasn’t. Point is, it had an effect on her.
SZOFIA uncertainly But would they want that? She seemed… tired. Isn’t that bad for training?
POLINA I’m not sure…

[Music: A mashup of “Zombie” and “Centuries”, rather dark and sad]
CUT. INT. congress room –day. Natalia walks into a meeting in full uniform. The six senators look up from their table, first indignant, then terrified when their security drops like flies. Natalia fires her gun several times, hitting each senator fatally. Her face is expressionless the whole time. She walks out without looking back.

POLINA V.O Maybe it was hard for them to control her. She was growing too strong, too dangerous for if she wanted to turn on them somehow.

CUT. EXT. street. Natalia, in an overcoat and sunglasses, strikes a woman from behind with her gun handle, knocking her unconscious. The woman falls, bleeding severely. Natalia searches her pockets, takes a small object, steps over her, and walks away, leaving her victim in a pool of blood.

POLINA V.O So they had to break her.

CUT. INT. shooting range –day. Natalia is practicing, firing bullets too fast for the eye to follow. The target is messed up at the chest, abdomen, and limbs, every bullet finding its place. Natalia’s face looks like someone put a wax mask on her, no emotion displayed.
CUT. INT. Natalia’s room –night. Natalia, sitting on her bed, takes three little pills from a box and swallows them. She’s alone, but the mask-like expression doesn’t vanish.
CUT. INT. training room –day. Natalia is dancing. Ivan is leaning in the doorframe, watching.

IVAN shaking his head You can’t be serious! Like a damned zombie, nothing else!

Natalia nods her head a little, acknowledging his criticism, and continues. Ivan shakes his head again, leaving his spot.

IVAN Stiff, lifeless! You could do so much better than that!

CUT. –afternoon. The younger trainees are dancing in unison. Natalia is walking –not dancing – through the rows and corrects them silently. After training, Szofia doesn’t follow the others immediately.

SZOFIA Natalia?
NATALIA switching off the music Yes, what’s the matter?
SZOFIA carefully Are you okay, Natalia?
NATALIA turning Yes, why would I not be?

Szofia wants to reply something, but then she just bows her head a little and leaves. Natalia’s glance follows her briefly, frowning, but then she’s back to not giving a shit about her surroundings.
CUT. INT. room –morning. Natalia, in formal wear, is waiting for something. She has a little knife in her hand, tracing the veins on her wrists with the back of it, way too close to cutting them. Her face doesn’t look pained or desperate, she doesn’t want to die, it’s more like she doesn’t care whether it happens or not.
CUT. INT. dorm –evening. The girls enter, worn-out, tired. They close the door, spreading across the room. Ekaterina carefully treats a wound on Szofia’s back. Szofia flinches.

EKATERINA Hold still.
SZOFIA He hates me, he really does…
EKATERINA He hates all of us. Hold still, Szofia.
SZOFIA It’s been getting so much worse since…
OLGA interrupting roughly Yes, since Natalia stopped caring. Give us all a break, Szofia!
IRINA Stop it, Olga, don’t be mean. We have to stick together, not quarrel.
OLGA crossing her arms We should accept things like they are, that’s all. Natalia doesn’t want to help us anymore, we have to stop relying on her or we’ll get hurt all the time.
POLINA I don’t think Natalia doesn’t want to help us anymore. But she doesn’t seem to be able to and I agree we should rely on ourselves more.
SZOFIA I still think she needs… something…

The others don’t say anything, looking at Olga. Finally, Olga sighs and goes to sit with Szofia. She takes her friend’s hand, leaning onto her. Szofia returns the gesture.

OLGA gently Dammit, Szofia. I see it, too, you know? Something’s wrong with Natalia and I’d love to do something, but we can’t if she won’t let us. Thing is, she won’t die without our attention. But we will without hers. We have to pull ourselves together and do what she taught us without her.
SZOFIA Helping each other?
OLGA nodding, smiling faintly Helping each other.

Szofia smiles, pressing Olga’s hand.

SZOFIA smiling firmly Let’s do that, then.

[Montage]The girls are still in the dorm, only the times of day and outfits change. Szofia shows Christina a combat exercise. |Olga teaches a ballet exercise.| Anastasia, Kira, and Ekaterina practice pronunciation together. |Polina is being interrogated by Katja, the others watch and give tips.
CUT. Natalia, in fancy dress, is walking up to a house. |Natalia, in a business costume, making a phone call.| Natalia and a young man are making out on a desk in an office. |Natalia climbs into a cab.| Champagne is sparkling.| A hand pushes a file across a desk.| Different pictures of Natalia’s targets both in the files and in newspapers. |Natalia hands Madame B an envelope, then a case with money.
CUT. INT. Natalia’s room –night. Natalia is taking pills again, the light suggests hallucinations like on a drug trip, the movement is clipped. Natalia trembles slightly, but she looks resigned and not scared.
CUT. INT. refectory –morning. Natalia sits at her usual spot, eating slowly, clearly showing she isn’t hungry at all. Madame B steps up to her. Natalia looks up, lowering her head respectfully.

MADAME B You leave a lot of food these days.
NATALIA quietly I’m not very hungry lately, ma’am.
MADAME B with a scolding undertone I would like you to eat up, Natalia. The nutritional value of your meals is calculated exactly and is necessary to keep up the quality of your work. And what even is this posture? Keep yourself straight!

Natalia obediently straightens her shoulders. Madame B corrects her posture.

NATALIA humbly Excuse me, ma’am.
MADAME B Occasionally you need to be reminded of your training. I have a mission for you, come to my office as soon as you’ve finished.
NATALIA obediently, but without energy Yes, ma’am.

CUT. INT. practice room –afternoon. Natalia is dancing. Outside, Madame B and Ivan are watching through the one-way mirror.

IVAN shaking his head Look at this. This is not even close to what she’s capable of.
MADAME B Her mission record shows different results. Since she’s being medicated, efficiency has been soaring to unknown highs, parallel to profit. I’ve been sending her more often and there are no problems at all.
IVAN Great your strategy seems to work out so well. I for one doubt she can fool anyone if even her dancing is so bad.
MADAME B On the contrary, Ivan. Her dancing is the only thing that’s gone down in quality, her behavior in cover is as good as ever. As for the reason, I believe you miss the thing the medication suppresses, the thing that has kept her down until now. Passion. She has always been a passionate dancer which improved her performance. Now, with all strong emotions heavily restricted you can’t expect the same level of dancing from her.
IVAN grumpily Believe it or not, I actually would prefer having at least one skilled dancer in this damned building.
MADAME B I agree the second generation has gone down significantly in terms of quality. Apparently, Natalia training them indeed did some good. Unfortunately, I can’t have her train them a lot these days, she’s occupied otherwise.
IVAN turning to leave You can stop her from dancing and train them instead, this is a disgrace to look at.

Inside the practice room, Natalia continues dancing, unaware of her case being discussed outside.

NATALIA V.O dreamily, somewhat detached I used to like this dance. I believe. I think I remember liking it, feeling positive about it. I don’t now. I don’t don’t like it either, I don’t feel anything dancing like this. It used to be different, long ago, I think, I used to feel different about so many things, I used to be less tired… I’m not really tired, I can work just fine and train, it’s not harder than it was… But I used to have things I’d do without being told to and I don’t do those anymore. I dance because I am supposed to and I think I used to want to dance. It used to feel different to pull a trigger, now it’s just my finger doing something…

Pan outside, where snow falls and begins melting again.

NATALIA V.O cont’d I don’t think it’s bad. Probably this is what I was always meant to be, I’m good at making mission plans and fulfilling my job, better than I used to be. Maybe that’s what it’s like. Maybe Maria felt like this naturally, empty. Probably I have finally managed to be who I am supposed to be. I should feel good about this in that case. It must be a good development, they’re content with me all the time now… I’m just still getting used to it, that’s all. I’m not really disconnected, I’m just not getting distracted.

[Black]

NATALIA V.O I am finally focusing on the important things.

[Text: 3rd of June, 2004. About one year after Natalia’s act of rebellion.]
[Slow motion] INT. hallway –day. The girls are walking down the hall together, weary, run-down. There has been a clear shift, they are only working at this point, none of them has the strength to chat. Katja tumbles, almost falling. Without even looking up, Olga catches her and supports her for a few steps.
CUT. INT. Natalia’s room –evening. Natalia enters, dressed up from a mission. She sits down on her bed, removing her make-up. The shadows her cheekbones are casting are scary, she’s become very thin, revealed even more when she changes into her nightgown. She looks sickly and numb, her hands shake slightly. She reaches out for the little box with the pills on her table, but only one falls in her open hand. She checks, but the box is empty. She looks around wearily but then swallows the one pill.

NATALIA tiredly I don’t have to get them now… Tomorrow will do just fine…

She lies down, staring at the ceiling, spaced out. The silence in her head is painfully loud.
CUT. INT. training room –day. Natalia is sitting on a chair, rubbing her temples. She’s clearly suffering from one hell of a headache. She reaches out for the fountain pen and writes “Get new pills” onto the inner side of her arm. Her writing is shaky.
The door is opened quietly, she looks up. The girls enter, but there is something clearly wrong with them. Irina and Kira have obviously been crying, Szofia is sniffling and Olga has a hand on her arm. They all look sad and shocked. Only at second glance, Natalia sees Katja isn’t with them.

NATALIA Where’s Katja?

She doesn’t get a reply. Szofia wipes her nose, Olga looks away. Christina is trembling so much that Ekaterina pulls her close and holds her.

NATALIA more serious, concern in her voice What has happened?

She gets up, taking support from the chair. Polina looks up.

POLINA hoarsely She… Katja… She… she failed.
NATALIA eyes widening What?
POLINA swallowing hard She… couldn’t get up… They took her away.

Someone utters a little choked sob, but Natalia doesn’t notice. Her posture changes, her weakness shaken off, panic reflecting in her eyes.

NATALIA hastily When?
POLINA Just now…
NATALIA unusually loud Shit! You train on your own, I’ll be right back!

She storms out of the room, the door slamming shut, making poor Christina flinch violently.

SZOFIA But… what is she doing?
EKATERINA She’s never been so… upset…
POLINA throwing a nervous glance outside She said we should train. She’s right, we have to, we could be watched.

CUT. INT. hallway –day. Natalia is running through the Red Room like it’s her life that’s on the line. Right as she barely runs around a corner, a loud shot echoes through the building. Natalia stops dead, flinching.

NATALIA No…

Pain fills her face but is quickly replaced by confusion when she realizes what she was about to do. The room spins around her, she takes support from the wall.

NATALIA V.O weakly Something’s… something’s wrong with me… Oh god, Katja, I’m so sorry…

CUT. INT. training room –day. Natalia enters, subdued. The girls stop and look at her, the hope on their faces barely concealed. Sadly, Natalia shakes her head.

NATALIA I… I wasn’t fast enough.

She allows herself a pained expression at seeing their faces fall. She closes the door softly and crosses the room.

NATALIA softly, almost apologetically Please continue training, okay?

They resume training. Natalia leans against the table, rubbing her temples in clear distress. For a while, she sits in complete motionlessness, then she rises, silently correcting some mistakes. She’s being very gentle, almost comforting about it. Once, she sways slightly, touching her head again.

SZOFIA shyly Are you alright, Natalia?
NATALIA meeting her glance Quite honestly, I have no idea.

Later, she finishes the lesson, seeing them leave, shoulders hunched, faces full of pain because of their loss. Her gaze lingers with them for a very long time, even after the door has been closed.
CUT. INT. dorm –evening. Natalia enters with a new package of pills in her hands. She sits down on the bed heavily. The room starts spinning. Breathing heavily, she closes her eyes, reaching out for the pills shakily. Opening them, her hands are shaking so much that she loses one which falls into a gap in the floor. It takes a while to get three pills into her hands. She opens her eyes, lifting up her hand to swallow the tablets, but hesitates. Clenching her fist around the pills, her mind is clearly racing.

NATALIA V.O This is ridiculous… I’m feeling like shit, why would I not take them? But I didn’t always need them… I used to be able to go without… What do I even need them for?

She stares down at the pills in her trembling hand.

NATALIA V.O This is so dumb, they do nothing but make me better. Why would I want to be weak again? Just in exchange for not being so tired… so tired all the time... I’m not allowed not to take them, why am I even…

She makes another attempt at taking the drugs, but the shot that killed Katja interrupts her. Pictures of the girls falling, failing at something, taking her advice. How beaten they seemed today.
Natalia needs to bundle all her mental strength to turn around her fist. After a seemingly endless struggle, she can finally open her fingers and the pills fall to the ground. Natalia breathes out sharply.

NATALIA V.O Can’t lose another one.

She is breathing heavily, laying herself down and curling up on the bed. The shivers running through her fragile body don’t stop, but the pillbox stays at the end of the bed, untouched.
CUT. INT. training room –day. Natalia is dancing, teeth clenched from trying not to let her weakness get to her, but while her dance isn’t perfect today, her usual passion has returned, there is life in her movement and her eyes are fiery as well. The door is opened and Natalia adds a pirouette to see who it is. She stops to greet the girls. They look better than last time, but especially Christina’s face is heavily bruised and Irina is at her sight, supporting her walk. Natalia smiles a little, encouraging.

NATALIA You need a bandage, don’t you, Christina?

Christina nods a little and Natalia waves her over. She kneels down and starts bandaging Christina’s bruised ankle. Szofia shares a look with Olga, a small smile passing over her face.
CUT. later. The girls gather by the door, training is done for now.

NATALIA Szofia, Olga, I’d like you to stay for a minute, I have something to show you. Polina, please tell the coach I’ll send them over later.
POLINA Yes, Natalia.

Almost bursting with curiosity, the six remaining trainees leave, Olga and Szofia stay, staring at Natalia. Natalia looks at them.

NATALIA Okay… Interrogation, I should say. How about you take those two chairs?

Confused, they obey, sitting down opposite each other, but staring at Natalia, puzzled. Natalia sits down on the chair again, swaying slightly as she does.

SZOFIA worriedly Natalia, I’m sorry, but you really don’t look well…

Olga nudges her, shaking her head. Szofia hunches her shoulders, but Natalia doesn’t scold her for the blunt remark. She merely nods.

NATALIA I’m not well. But I don’t want you to tell the ma’am. It’s not that big of a deal. What I actually kept you here for, is because I’d like your opinion on something. Adding If you’d rather go train with the others, I understand that. I picked the two of you because I think you can go without a couple minutes of combat, but you can leave if you want to, I’m not forcing you to stay.
SZOFIA No, we’ll assist as much as we can, right, Olga?
OLGA nodding Yes, we’ll stay.
NATALIA Good… This is strictly unofficial. Please don’t talk to anyone of authority about it. If that’s too uncomfortable, say so. I don’t want to burden you or…

She breaks off, she’s clearly unsure how to go about it. Olga and Szofia exchange a look. Olga nods slightly.

SZOFIA We won’t talk about it.
NATALIA sighing nervously Okay… thank you. I’d like your opinion on whether I’ve been behaving differently than usual in the last few days. Uhm… have you noticed anything?
SZOFIA nervously, hesitatingly Well, yes…
NATALIA Okay. How? How am I different? Adding Better look at each other, we’re supposed to practice interrogation.

Szofia and Olga turn to each other. They are confused and uncomfortable by Natalia’s sudden shift in trust, but they’re trained to answer questions.

SZOFIA Well… you’re… you seem upset? And you’re more…

She breaks off, looking at Olga helplessly.

OLGA You’re more… engaged. Humbly I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be disrespectful.
NATALIA Oh, no, you’re not. Engaged… You mean I... pay more attention, don’t you?

Olga nods. Encouraged by Natalia’s obvious interest, she continues.

OLGA You’re more like before. Like you used to be.
NATALIA Before what?

Olga bites her lip. Szofia takes over for her.

SZOFIA You changed after you were sick that one time, one year ago. Now you’re more like your old self in a way.
NATALIA nodding I see, yes. You see, I feel like the last year passed like nothing, there’s not much I recall clearly. It would help me to know how you perceived it. Be blunt, don’t spare my feelings, what was I like?
SZOFIA You were completely… like nothing mattered to you. Like you were hardly there in training. You trained us a lot less, too, you were away so much we hardly saw you.

Natalia nods, concentratedly, and gestures them to continue.

OLGA You didn’t seem well, too. You left food at mealtimes.
SZOFIA You seemed tired.
OLGA Yes. You were still good to us in training, but you…
NATALIA But I didn’t notice things like I used to. Katja, she’d been getting worse for weeks, right?

The mood changes. The pain over losing Katja is still fresh. Olga nods sadly.

OLGA resignedly We tried our best.
NATALIA getting up because she’s so upset But why didn’t I see that? I should have noticed… I could have done something…
SZOFIA eyes blurred It’s not on you.
NATALIA slightly raising her voice I’m your coach. Of course it’s on me! Pulling herself together I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled like that. Is there anyone else who’s doing badly, anyone who needs special support?
OLGA shortly No.
SZOFIA ignoring her Christina. She’s struggling with her usual… stuff… but it’s worse now. And Professor Ivashin said he’ll have Anastasia fail if she doesn’t do better.
NATALIA I see.
OLGA voice faltering We can deal with that.
NATALIA quietly, but genuine I realize I haven’t lived up to what I promised to do. I should have been there, but I wasn’t. You aren’t obliged to forgive me for it, but I will try to give you all the support I possibly can, regardless of that.

For a few seconds, Olga remains quiet. She’s been hurt by Natalia’s behavior, but she also wants to believe things will change, that things will go better from now.

OLGA Okay.

Natalia offers one of her faint, sad smiles. Shyly, Olga smiles back, but her expression of hope is quickly replaced by shock when Natalia groans and sways, grabbing the table. Szofia jumps to her feet, instinctively approaching her. Natalia extends a hand, keeping her from touching her.

NATALIA panting It’s okay, it’s okay!
SZOFIA worried Natalia, what’s wrong?
NATALIA sitting down shakily, rubbing her temple It’s fine… I’m not taking the pills anymore, that’s all…
SZOFIA eager to help We could get them for you…
NATALIA No! more softly No, I don’t want them… I think they’re what makes me so tired and… off… and I need to be awake, I need to be fully there… It’ll stop feeling so rough after a while. I hope.
OLGA carefully You have been taking medication since you were sick? That’s what changed you?
NATALIA I think so, yes. I want to test…

She breaks off, she’s counting on the girls’ trustworthiness quite a bit. Olga has understood, though.

OLGA cautiously I don’t know… Do you know what it feels like when you’ve gone without food for a while and then try to eat a lot?
NATALIA I do. Go on.
OLGA I was thinking… maybe this is like the opposite of that? Like, you were used to something and now you can’t go without it all at once? Maybe if you tried taking less of the medication first it wouldn’t be as hard?

Natalia is silent for a second. Her eyes widen.

NATALIA Olga, you’re a genius! That’s it, it’s exactly that. That’s a brilliant idea!

Olga is beaming at being praised so much. Natalia bows over conspiratorially.

NATALIA Okay, I’d ask you to watch me a little, okay? Tell me if I go back to being tired or don’t pay attention, bring it up. I know I’ve asked a lot of you today…
SZOFIA It’s okay. We will. We’ll tell the others, too.

Olga nods affirmatively. Natalia nods, smirking a little. Her eyes are alive and determined.
CUT. INT. training room –day.
[Text: “A few months later”; Music: Centuries, upbeat and triumphant]
In perfect unison, the second generation is dancing. They’re looking much better than before and their quality has gone up, too. Following their steps effortlessly, Natalia lifts up Kira’s arm a little more and shows Szofia how to bend her body correctly. As a part of the group, she finishes the dance with them.
CUT. INT. Natalia’s room –night. Natalia sits on her bed, taking a box of pills. She takes out three of them, but instead of swallowing them, she puts them into another little box which she hides beneath her mattress.
CUT. EXT. street –day. Natalia, dressed for a mission, walks by a trashcan. She throws something away and continues, not even slowing down. In the trashcan lies the small box, pills spilling out of it.
[Black]
[End Credits]

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

Another one of my favs! This is a really big deal for Nat, it might even be a turning point, who knows?
Also I'm sorry, I promise this is the last major character death in this season (emphasis on major), I'm gonna be nice now (not too nice, though, S.H.I.E.L.D's still a few chapters away)

Next one is gonna be a mission again, we're going to Europe! Any guesses which country? (there are no clues, I'm just curious)

Thank you for your kind comments, they really make my day :) xx

Chapter 7: S2/07: Lucy's secret

Summary:

Alex Schmidt is only too happy when a young British woman starts an internship at his company. Lucy is quite certainly someone that you can discreetly have fun with. But Alex doesn't know he’s just fallen into the web of the Black Widow...
TW: consent as in it’s a mission; Almost/Mild assault; Mention of rape

Music piece: “Me and my broken heart” by Rixton

Notes:

Why is there actual German dialogue written out while none of the other languages are? Because the author is flexing, that’s why XD
For the German speakers among you; Natalia’s German is intentionally a little flawed because she can’t be good at everything 😊
I put a translation when necessary.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Lucy’s secret

◄◄◄►►►

Reached destination. First engagement tomorrow, 11:30.

◄◄◄►►►

The headquarters of ‘SouthStar Chips’ in Munich, Germany, was light and modern, showing the company’s flourishing state. Alex Schmidt, the young and handsome head of design was walking through the hallway, energetically as always. He was thinking about the trouble he had had with one of the executives, but he had solved it and now lunch was waiting for him. He turned around the corner to see Friedmann, the manager of human resources talking to a young woman he had never seen before. Friedmann, red-faced and massive, was obviously uncomfortable. As Alex approached, he could hear him struggling with an English sentence. They both turned to face him.
“Ach, Alex, gut, dass Sie da sind!“ Friedmann said, relieved.“Würde es Ihnen etwas ausmachen, das Fräulein Sherman hier rumzuführen? Sie ist die Praktikantin aus London und, nun ja… Ihr Englisch ist doch um einiges besser als meines.“
He was right, his English was horrible, and Alex was certainly the better choice to give the new intern from London a tour.
“Na klar” Alex agreed with a smile and offered the young woman his hand. “Hi, I’m Alex Schmidt, head of Design. Nice to meet you, Miss…?”
“Sherman. Lucy Sherman.”
They shook hands. She was petite, blonde, wearing bold black glasses that –curiously enough- made her even prettier. Her handshake was firm, her English perfectly British.
Friedmann gave Alex instructions of what to show her and then disappeared.
“Care to have lunch first?” Alex asked. “The tour can wait, I’d say. If he wanted it to have his way, he would have to do it himself, but his English, well…”
“Yours is pretty good, though, Mr. Schmidt,” Miss Sherman said. “I’d deal with German, too, I’m just shy to speak it, I was never good with languages. I hardly understand anything, to be honest.”
“Well, right now I’ll be happy to assist.” He smiled at her, leading her to the canteen. They ordered food and sat down with each other. Alex carefully watched his new acquaintance. She was wearing a black skirt and a dark green blouse that complimented her eyes beautifully, her make-up was subtle, she didn’t really need any and the air of shy grace around her made her whole persona all the more intriguing.
“So, you’re from London? Not native, though, are you?” He had a friend from London and therefore knew the accent fairly well.
“No, I’m from Bristol originally. You have to move to London if you want to achieve something, though.”
“And you want to achieve something, Miss Sherman?”
She smiled shyly, looking at him through her lashes. “Who doesn’t, Mr. Schmidt?"
He laughed. “You’re right about that. But do call me Alex, everyone here does.”
“In that case, I’m Lucy.”
For a while they said silently, then Alex asked:
“Bist du das… First time in Germany?”
“I have been in Berlin once, for a few days. But it’s kind of intimidating to be here all alone for such a long time.”
“Intimidating?” Alex asked, not knowing the word. She blushed slightly.
“Scary,” she explained.
“How long will you be here?”
“Three months.”
They left the canteen and he gave her a little tour. She was curious but in a shy, polite way. Alex repeatedly wondered how old she was. By her looks, he would have estimated her to be no older than twenty, but she seemed so eloquent and put together that she seemed older.
“Where are you staying?” he asked.
She smiled her beautiful smile and blushed again. “An apartment in Lud… Okay… let me try it. Ludwig… Ludwig-vorstadt. Is that correct?”
She said with a broad accent; it sounded intriguing. “That’s like the most difficult word I’ve ever said.” She chuckled.
“Don’t worry, I know what you mean. It’s not our most difficult area, though. I myself live in Englschalking.”
“That is literally impossible to say. What does it mean? Something like angel?”
“I have no idea. But likely, yes.”
She played with a strand of hair. “Know my neighborhood, too? Any restaurants you can recommend? Good German food?”
Alex gladly took the opportunity. He was more than interested in this graceful beauty and this would make for a nice starting point without seeming too pushy.
“I do, actually. You have to be careful, though. Not everything on German menus is for foreigners if you understand.”
She laughed. “Talking to an English girl! Nothing on our menus is for foreigners!”
They both laughed.
“I might call you in the middle of the night for food advice, then,” she warned ironically.
“Well, either that or I invite you for dinner and give you advice first hand. To celebrate your start here.”
He received another shy look through Lucy’s lashes. “You’d do that?”
“Why not? I like eating and I enjoy company. What do you say?”
She ran her fingers through her hair. “Well, if you… I would enjoy that, yes. When would it suit you?”
They fixed the date, tonight at eight, Hofbräuhaus –another word Lucy failed to say correctly, but she took it with a smile. Then they went to Friedmann’s office and Alex translated for the two of them. For the rest of the day, he didn't see Lucy anymore, but they had exchanged numbers.
Being alone, Alex had time to think. Think about his girlfriend Annika who would not appreciate him going out with Lucy –if she found out. Until now she had never found out. They didn’t live together and their relationship was strongly influenced by the fact that they both had a career and Annika was out of town a lot. Alex knew he wasn't being fair to her but his conscience didn’t bother him too much when he met girls; girls like this British one, young and beautiful. He had saved her number by ‘Luke’, just to be safe. Maybe she wasn’t into this kind of thing anyway.

◄◄◄►►►

“So, did I advise you right?” Alex lifted up his glass and Lucy followed him.
“Yes, it was delicious.” She smiled.
“Another glass of wine?”
“Well, I really shouldn’t… Well, fine, one more.”
Alex poured her one more. Lucy drank without taking her green eyes off him. She was wearing a silver dress, slightly more daring than in the morning, and was looking almost illegally stunning.
“They don’t really have good desserts here,” Alex said in a low voice. “But there is a… ahem… a place where you can get ice cream, Eisdiele… I don’t know.”
“An ice cream parlor? Sounds great. You Germans are not known for your desserts as far as I know.” Lucy smiled.
“At least we don’t put mint over everything,” Alex returned, and they shared a laugh. Making fun of each other’s national stereotypes was quite enjoyable; especially since they both took it lightly.
Unfortunately, the ice cream parlor was closed, but Alex had a different idea. In a nearby cinema, he bought popcorn for both of them, one of these little activities that were unusual enough to be fun.
“Do you prefer salty or sweet popcorn?” he asked.
For a moment Lucy seemed taken aback, then she laughed a bit.
“Oh, I’ve not tried salty popcorn that often. What about you?”
“Sweet. If I want salty, I take Nachos or chips or something.”
“Understandable.” She laughed, swaying a bit.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Her laughter came playfully, but she was definitely having a hard time walking straight.
“That last glass of wine…” Her words were slightly slurred. “I get drunk so quickly…”
She laughed again, stumbled and Alex had to catch her.
“Be careful. Enough for tonight, you should be going home.”
“Yes, yes.” Her whole shy demeanor had changed; she looked at him rather flirtatiously. “You take me?”
“Yes, I will. Where do you stay?”
Lucy stopped, trying to concentrate. “You guys have pretty damn hard street names, you know.” She giggled again but frowned. “Like seriously; I don’t remember.”
“Really? Can you find it?”
He took her arm and supported her.
“My orientation is not that good, even if I’m sober.” For a few seconds, she looked worried. “Now that’s embarrassing.”
“Don’t worry,” Alex said. “We’ll find a solution.”
Lucy staggered, holding on to him quite firmly. She was obviously pretty drunk. Alex briefly considered his options.
“Look,” he said. “I don’t know where you live and you don’t seem like it’ll come to your mind anytime soon. What about you stay with me for the night? You can sleep on the couch.”
For around half a minute, Lucy stared at him, seemingly considering. Her common sense made her a bit suspicious about staying with a stranger and made her hesitant. But then she laughed.
“I don’t have much of a choice, have I? I’ll just have to trust you to be a good man.”
“Suppose so.”
He offered her an arm and hailed a cab that took them to his apartment. Lucy managed to not act embarrassingly, only the stairs were a bit of a challenge for her.
Alex unlocked the door and led her in. His wide, modern loft was a view to behold and Lucy stopped and gazed around, impressed.
“Now that’s something,” she commented.
Alex smiled proudly. “Nice you like it. Here, you can take the couch, I’ll get you a… what’s that word… something to cover up… Blanket, isn’t it?”
Lucy nodded, yawned, and sat down on the couch. Overall, her drunkenness seemed to have worn off mostly, leaving her tired. Alex got a blanket for her.
“There you go.”
“Thank you, Alex.” Lucy gave him a look that wasn’t easy to define. There was some level of coquetry to it, a bit of caution, something foreign impossible to grasp.
She lay down, putting it around her. Alex smiled at her.
“I’ll clean up and then come back, see if you need anything, okay?"
Alex left the room.
Quick, said Lucy, undress.
Why, Natalia returned nervously, he’s not gonna take me anyway. Not tonight.
Make him want you, Lucy scolded, just take off your dress and show off that minimal bit of underwear you are wearing, it’s not that hard.
Natalia bit her lip but obediently took off the silver dress, revealing extremely daring black lace underwear that hardly covered anything at all. It felt like taking off a piece of protective armor. She threw it over a nearby chair, went back to the couch, and covered her body just enough to show her bra, positioning her arms in a way to emphasize her figure while giving the impression that she had coincidentally lain down that way in her sleep. She closed her eyes and waited for him to come back. Her heart was beating much faster than it should, everything about this evening was far beyond her comfort zone, pretending to be drunk as someone who never touched a drop, making herself seem sexually appealing as someone who had no idea what that concept even meant.
Alex entered the room again and stopped. Natalia could tell he was staring at her in a way that made her physically uncomfortable.
Come on, move, Lucy said, you know how it works. This is no different from the dozens of times you have already done this.
“Lucy?” Alex’s deep, masculine voice was quiet, almost a whisper. Natalia groaned slightly and moved a bit, gracefully, the blanket falling down and revealing even more. She opened her mouth a bit, by the book as she did everything sex-related because there was no intuition to guide her through.
Alex cleared his throat, having noticed that he was behaving inappropriately and audibly turned away.
“Ahem, yeah… Good night. See you tomorrow.”
He switched off the light and left the room. Natalia opened her eyes and quickly pulled the blanket around herself. I don’t want to.
Now pull yourself together, Lucy reproachfully said, you think you will get a better chance of getting into the company? He’s making it so easy for you, and he’s not that bad a guy. What about that fat old guy in Venice last summer who straight up raped you in a cheap hotel room? That was much worse, don’t complain.
Shut up, Natalia thought tiredly, I’m not complaining, it’s fine, I’ll do it. Whatever needs to be done.

◄◄◄►►►

Faint sunrays fell through the half-transparent curtains of the loft as Alex entered the living room. Lucy was lying on the couch, just now gracefully moving as she woke up.
“Hey, are you awake?”
She startled, opened her eyes, and quickly pulled the blanket over her bra, a pretty useless sign of modesty.
“Hey,” she greeted him sleepily.
“How are you feeling?”
“I can remember my address now.” Lucy blushed faintly. “Did I behave very embarrassingly?”
Alex shook his head. “No, don’t worry. You fell asleep almost immediately.”
“I always forget just how little I can take,” Lucy said apologetically. “It’s always a ‘just one more glass’ sort of situation.”
“It’s alright,” he said. “I’ll take care of it in the future.”
“It was so nice of you to take me in,” Lucy said. “And it was a beautiful evening, wasn’t it?”
Alex wholeheartedly agreed.
“Maybe we could repeat it occasionally.” Her smile was only the slightest bit flirtatious.
He nodded. “Yeah, would be nice. I’d be free on Thursday,” he added carefully.
Lucy beamed at him. “Sounds amazing.”
“Maybe not tell Friedmann about it.”
“My lips are sealed.” Lucy put on her dress as he turned away, then she walked past him, gently putting a kiss on his cheek.
“See you at work, Alex.”

◄◄◄►►►

I have met a man that could help me with my task, A.S. He’s interested in me. Trying to increase that feeling. F. seems not overly competent. First preparations in progress.

◄◄◄►►►

“You didn’t have too much wine tonight, did you?” Alex smiled. Lucy laughed.
“No, it’s almost a pity, isn’t it?”
“Indeed.” He offered her his arm and she took it without hesitation.
“Want to come over anyway?” He was trying and hoped he wasn’t pushing things. Lucy had captivated his mind and it was hard to not let that show in an inappropriate way.
“Well, that was not technically the goal of my internship…” Lucy smiled mischievously. “But I’m not going to say no.”
No. Natalia thought, no, no, no.
Alex laughed. “Wow,” he said. “That’s going quickly, isn’t it?”
“Life is short.” Lucy shrugged. “I don’t let opportunities pass, that’s not my way. And I know it’s not yours either,” she added in a whisper.
Alex took her hand and touched her cheek with his other one. Lucy looked at him, no longer shy but passionate, her glance firm and almost demonic. Her hand touched his, moving it towards her mouth. He ran her fingers across her slightly opened lips, feeling her warm breath on his skin.
They kissed, passionately and wildly, Lucy’s fingers grabbing his hair, his hands exploring her body as he pulled her closer. He groaned, wishing to pull the fabric away right this instant. He didn’t feel the silent struggle going on within the dainty woman in front of him; he couldn’t hear Natalia crying out in despair while Lucy offered herself to him.
“Let’s go to your place,” Lucy panted between two kisses, suffocating Natalia’s plea to let it be enough for tonight. Because it was not enough just yet.
“Okay,” he replied, hailing a cap with one hand while holding her closely with his other one. She laughed as he pulled her in.

◄◄◄►►►

They entered Alex’s apartment, hardly keeping their hands off one another.
“I thought you were so shy,” Alex said. “No one would expect you to-“ he was interrupted by Lucy kissing him “-to be so fiery and passionate.”
“People always say I’m full of surprises,” Lucy returned with a jaunty laugh.
He opened the zipper of her dress, she unbuttoned his shirt, playfully pulling him closer with his tie. Simultaneously, they took off their first layer of clothing.
Natalia backed away from him, seemingly playfully but actually to catch precious seconds of breath until she felt the bed pressing against her legs and they both landed on the soft sheets, continuing the never-ending series of kisses. His body was heated up to the touch; his torso was not overly muscular, but slender. Natalia opened his belt, pulling it out in a single swing, at the same time taking off her own shoes and moving backward on the bed to lie down properly. Alex placed a kiss on her stomach, right in the middle of her ribcage, moving upwards to her breastbone. She opened the zipper of his trousers, feeling with discomfort how serious his feelings were.
It wasn’t quite correct that she didn’t feel anything. In fact, she would have had many words to describe what this situation meant to her. They just weren’t anything like what you were supposed to feel.
As he touched her flanks, she flinched away automatically, sometimes that happened even when she did it herself. It was just an area not made for being touched, both a question of vulnerability and… she didn’t really know.
She was definitely getting too little oxygen in this position.
Alex had put off his trousers and shoes, now he opened her bra, and she raised her arms lasciviously to enable him to take it off her. Then both of their underwear.
She lay there, fully exposed, and felt horribly helpless. She did not want this, it actually felt worse than Venice because that had been over fairly quickly, no romantic kissing, no anxious waiting. No forced consent that disabled her of defense.
She knew Alex was handsome and young and definitely a man women would want to date. She knew that he had what they called sex appeal. She also knew she didn’t want him.
Natalia managed to keep her breathing from sounding clipped and managed to somewhat adapt the heavy, half-groaning way of breathing that seemed to be the right way. Her eyes were closed as they could give her true feelings away whereas her body functioned mechanically, adapting a certain rhythm and doing things that made no sense but worked, apparently. Technically, it was just another disguise, designed to fool him. He was enjoying this and she was playing along as best as she could.
She tried to swallow away the lump that had come to her throat.
What is wrong with me? Feeling this would make it so much easier.
It seemed to take hours until it was over. Alex had fallen asleep next to her, breathing regularly. As he had reached out to her unconsciously, she had moved out of his reach and he had not tried again. Natalia had put the blanket around her body and now looked out of the window over the tiny part of the city she could see. She was lying absolutely motionlessly, except for her chest rising and falling. She was feeling sore and her mouth was dry. She felt like taking a shower. After a while, her fingers started moving across her torso, feeling the irregularities of the scars that Alex hadn’t even noticed, the feminine curves that seemed to have so much impact on other people for no apparent reason, then the bones beneath the skin.
Nothing, she thought. It’s a body; skin, bones, muscles, flesh. Blood, too. I can’t for the life of me understand what would cause feelings like that. And why would one body do, but another won’t, regardless of cleanliness and looks? Shouldn’t I be old enough by now? Shouldn’t there be some sort of people that I could feel this way about? But haven’t I tried all sorts of people, men, women, pretty, ugly, young, old, all sorts of characters? Am I too stupid for this? Could I learn, could I practice? And why does a major part of me not want to learn?

◄◄◄►►►

A.S. off-guard. Only a matter of time till I can search the apartment for information. Have found the main server but will need time to figure out a way to override encryption. I doubt I can convince A.S. to help me consciously, but maybe I can get a password from him anyways.

Stay subtle. Don’t push things.

Understood. Will take the time.

◄◄◄►►►

It had been three weeks since Lucy Sherman had come to SouthStar, one week since Alex’s server room key had been imitated, and only two days since Natalia had found out how to disable the alarms.
Alex was not free tonight, thank god, and so she was strolling through the streets by herself, like a faint shadow in the dusk, her hair tied back, without her glasses but rather dramatic make-up that made her look like a whole different person. Tonight she wasn't Lucy Sherman and that felt surprisingly good, even though Lucy had a clean record, an intact family, and a vivid social life. Lucy fit in and she wasn't as boring as some other aliases Natalia had used, though her personal favorite was still Ofelia Shostakowa, the edgy but somewhat lonely voyager with no real place in the world. Nadia Dreijkova was on her mind sometimes, accompanied by a feeling of sadness mixed with strange tranquility, maybe because it had been the only interaction outside that had been true.
Lost in thought, she had wandered off to a darker part of town that was perfect for hiding if you were up to something. Lucy would be scared here, but Natalia wasn’t.
She kept two pickpockets from getting to her just by turning around at the right moment and throwing them a warning look. Curiously, she was feeling safe here. She would not hesitate to break people’s bones if they attacked her and there was nobody who could expect her to let herself be beaten up or taken advantage of for mission purposes. She had nothing to hide right now.
A beggar asked her for money, but Natalia knew she would have to put that in a report and there was no way it would be condoned.
“Ich habe nichts,” she said apologetically in German – I don’t have anything. “I’m sorry.”
She spent a lot of time in the streets that night, staying in the same district because it was feeling almost cozy to her, almost like freedom, like nothing that happened here would have an impact on the outside world, no one would ever know what she did here.
The next day she came back and the day after that, too, stating in her reports she had gone for a walk. Everything about it relaxed her.
Almost exactly one month into her internship, she was once again wandering around, thinking about the job. It had been a hard day, she had spent a full hour trying to communicate with Friedmann, keeping her English sentences as simple as possible, she had completed another piece of the plan to get the data she needed and she had cooked, that had been more than enough.
Yesterday Alex had finally noticed the scars on her torso.
“What did you do there, Luce?” he had asked.
She had told him a story about an accident involving glass shards, adding “I get scars from literally everything, even if it wasn’t bad. Sensitive skin, you know? I never wear bikinis to keep my parents from being charged for child abuse.” They had both laughed about that.
“Annika’s coming home on Friday night,” he had said. “We can keep it secret, though, can’t we? She doesn’t need to know.”
“If that’s what you want…” Her fingers had played with the hair on his chest, gently stroking him. “It would not be the first time for me and neither for you. I don’t have romantic illusions about us, you know? You won’t break up with her and that’s okay. We’ll just have to figure out a way to keep meeting.”
“Maybe I can come over to your place, too.”
“Yeah, you could.” After I’ve put away all the bad stuff.
Loud voices woke Natalia from her thoughts. She looked up to see three men and a girl right ahead of her. The tense mood was so obvious anyone would have noticed something was wrong.
Natalia noted a gang, no firearms, basically unarmed except for brass knuckles, probably handmade. Younger than they seem, mid-twenties max. She is scared, no way she can defend herself, weak, defensive stand, maximally 16 years old. One of the guys does boxing, but not professionally, the other ones don’t do martial arts, at least not enough to be a threat. They might run.
“Bitte…” the girl pleaded desperately “Ich habe kein Geld, ich kann euch nichts geben.“
I don’t have money, I can’t give you anything.
„Oh doch, das kannst du,“ -yes you can, one of the boys sneered, touching her cheek. She whimpered in fear.
Natalia knew she was not supposed to intervene. She should not draw attention to herself like that.
She had understood the conversation, her German was way better than Alex or Friedmann knew, but when she spoke it you could easily hear her native accent.
In this case, however, that was not much of a problem…
I’m not going to let this girl get raped in front of my very eyes. The revelation was quick and matter-of-fact like there was no question about it. Natalia knew what she was supposed to do, go past and forget, nothing of your business, but a much stronger feeling, from much deeper within told her to screw the rules and do the fucking right thing. The right thing.
“Lass sie in Ruhe!” -Leave her alone, she said firmly, clearly pronouncing each word. She went over, not even trying to look threatening because it would look stupid.
The guys turned to see her and burst out laughing at the sight. Natalia stood still, not moving a muscle.
“Wieso sollten wir?” The leader asked back, mockingly imitating her accent. His companions threateningly came closer. Yes, indeed, why should they leave the girl alone?
“Weil eine gebrochene Nase lässt dich dumm aussehen. ” Natalia said simply. Because a broken nose will make you look stupid.
“Halt dich da raus, Kleine.“ he said threateningly. „Dir würde eine gebrochene Nase nämlich überhaupt nicht stehen.“ Natalia agreed, a broken nose wouldn’t look good on her either, but thankfully she wouldn’t end up with one tonight.
“Did I fucking stutter?”
Natalia didn’t know the German expression for that, but she didn’t care much.
“Oho, sie spricht Englisch.” He laughed and grabbed her arm. “Jetzt mal im Ernst…”
He didn’t get to explain what he was serious about.
Natalia spun around, placed two punches on his nose, turned him around, and brought him to the ground, in the process pulling the brass knuckles off his hand and breaking a few fingers. Howling, he lay on the ground, twitching and writhing in pain.
His companions looked at him in shock. Natalia kicked one of them in the nuts, which seemed like a fitting punishment, the third one tried to run.
“Not so fast,” she said, holding him back and putting a wristlock on him. “You’ll get your share, too. Und in Zukunft,” she said, switching back to German. “du denkst zweimal nach, bevor du anfasst jemanden. Klar?“
And in the future, you better think twice before touching someone. Better don’t think and just don’t do it, she added in her head.
He whined, something about never doing it again. Natalia raised an eyebrow and placed a punch, so he went to the ground, gasping for breath. Lungs. Always efficient.
“Bist du okay?” she asked the young girl.
She nodded. “Ja… ja.”
“Good. Wo musst du hingehen?” Where do you have to go?
The girl pointed straight ahead. “Die… Die Bushaltestelle.”
“Ich bringe dich.”
For a few seconds, they were both silent.
“Danke.” said the girl then. “Ich hatte solche Angst. Sie haben mich gerettet.“
I bet you were afraid, Natalia thought, and yes, I saved you. Great job, me. Actually doing something decent for once. Almost a saint, am I not?
“Ist okay,” she replied quietly.
They walked towards the bus stop. The girl trembled slightly. She was brown-haired and generically dressed, no special features, as Natalia would put it.
“Das war… wie haben Sie das gemacht?“
The timid attempt of conversation was noticed but not taken up. It was way too complicated to explain how on earth she had managed to do this.
“Du solltest ein… a self-defense course?... machen, vor allem in Gegenden wie hier,“ she said instead. Every girl in this area ought to do a self-defense course.
The girl nodded. “Werde ich,” she assured Natalia.
Natalia nodded in silent agreement. “There you go,” she said. “Pass auf auf dich.”
The girl entered the bus. “Danke,” she said again while turning around. Natalia returned the tiny gesture, almost a wave that she was given, turned around, and left. She knew she could not come back, not after tonight. She had put her cards on the table, there would be no coming back for her. But despite the slight sadness, she was not feeling the tiniest bit of regret. Fear, yes, fear of having to explain why she had strayed from her mission like that for no reason, for having made herself vulnerable by drawing attention, yes, that was there. But the dominating feeling was different, warm, and pleasant, she felt like her steps were lighter than usual and she was walking very upright.
The beginning of insanity, Lucy snickered. Pull yourself together.
Do shut up, Natalia returned firmly, Let me have this moment for myself.

◄◄◄►►►

Nothing of importance.

◄◄◄►►►

It was past midnight as a shadow entered the SouthStar Chips headquarter. The alarms failed to go off –or rather, they had been switched off, so it wasn’t really their fault. No flickering flashlight alerted the guard at the gate, no sound gave the intruder away. She sneaked into the server room with absolutely no problem, then there was a long period of fast typing.
All devices connected said the text on the screen in German.
She nodded, then typed in ‘Lucy Sherman’. A picture appeared on screen, her application. A few clicks changed the image dramatically into a full-on different person who also happened to be blonde and wear glasses, just similar enough not to be noticed by most. The printed-out version in Friedmann’s office had already mysteriously disappeared.
Half an hour later Natalia had changed a few addresses, so certain offers or deals might never reach SouthStar’s partners and also copied the hard drive, which was what she was here for. The little, but very nasty virus that would enable her client to blow parts of the system when she was long gone was just the icing on the cake.
She disappeared into the night, leaving no trace of her work.
The mission was accomplished, just in time. Her internship would end tomorrow. She had only spent time with people who almost certainly would not remember her face very well and Alex had never approached her at work since one of his colleagues was Annika’s friend.
She would only need to check his phone for evidence of her presence and then she would disappear like a phantom.
She had put off her coat, but she walked back to her apartment anyway to not give anyone the chance to remember her. In the apartment, she took out her phone.

Mission accomplished. According to plan. Only evidence could be found with A.S., will deal with that tomorrow. All other evidence destroyed.

It took a few minutes until the answer came.

Fine. Eliminate witness.

Natalia sat there, gasping. She had not seen it coming, even though she should have. It made sense, yes, but…

He has no clue about any of it. It might draw attention.

She heard Madame B speaking clearly as she read the next message.

There is no evidence of your connection with him. No sentimentality.

Natalia sighed deeply. For her, it wasn’t a matter of feeling. She hadn’t fallen for Alex over the course of three months. On the contrary, she had dreaded their meetings each and every time and at times she had practically hated him for what he did to Annika, for his cheating and casual betrayal without ever feeling sorry. But as always, her inside rebelled against assassinating someone who had done nothing except for seeing something that was not allowed to be seen. The eye-witness problem. She sighed again. Then she typed an answer.

◄◄◄►►►

“I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“I can’t either. It was such a great time.”
“I’m taking a business trip to London in January.”
“My doors are open for you.”
“I will miss you. One last time? For saying goodbye?”
“Yes. But let me try something with you, just for fun. You’ll enjoy it.”
“What is it?”
“Shh. Sit up and close your eyes.”
“Trust exercise, huh?”
“If you will…”

“That does feel good.”
“Doesn’t it? Don’t move. Just let me do the work.”

There was an unpleasant little crack as Alex’s neck broke. He didn’t groan or give any sound of pain but just slumped onto the bed, having Natalia support his full weight. She sat for a few moments, frozen in place, her hands lifted up and slowly closing to fists. She knew right this instant that she would never kill anyone this way again. It felt much dirtier than having blood on her hands.
He had not seen it coming. As she pulled free from underneath his body and pulled him into a slightly more natural position she could see his face, relaxed, a faint smile on his lips, eyes closed like he was asleep. She wiped her hands on her t-shirt. The movement was slightly erratic, more than it should be, but it was that way each and every time she tried a new way of killing. They had not come very far today, she was fully dressed and Annika would at least not find her boyfriend naked.
Natalia shook herself, regaining her focus. She tied her hair back, put on gloves, and started covering the tracks of her presence.
She had not been at a lot of places since the last clean-up, but she cleaned every spot so there would be no fingerprints of hers.
Now the laptop and the phone.
Contently she found that there was nothing to directly trace back to her, no images, no messages to others, he had been good at hiding it, of cours, he had, there was a personal motivation behind keeping his affairs secret. She found several chats that seemed to be with male friends, but weren't, no way. Their chat, labeled ‘Luke’, was very tame, too. She deleted three or four messages that might be interpreted sexually and then changed the contact name to ‘Paul’ to be even more inconspicuous. This had been easy.
Alex’s loft was at the top of a building with only three other parties, two other single businessmen, one married, but all of them not generally around. She had seen the woman once, that was it. And tonight, no one was here except her and the body on the bed.
She turned around, checking everything once again, silently bowing her head a bit as she looked at Alex. Then she left the apartment and used the back door to disappear.
When would he be found? And by whom?
Annika, most likely, the cleaning staff had been there two days ago and the company would not miss him till after the weekend. Annika would probably come over tomorrow or on Sunday. Natalia had never met her in person, she had seen pictures and once, she had slipped out of Alex’s apartment just in time to not bump into her. Annika was nice. It would be a shock. Maybe she would even be a suspect since there would be no trace of the real killer.
Would it make things less painful to her if she knew Alex had been cheating on her or would it just add an extra level of pain?
Natalia entered her own apartment. Her stuff was packed; a cleaning crew was just brutally erasing anything that might be related to anyone ever living here. Natalia did not interact with them and they didn't acknowledge her presence either. She left, putting on a cap and a voluminous overcoat to conceal her figure, and left off to the airport. Lucy Sherman had a flight to catch.

◄◄◄►►►

Alex Schmidt’s dead body was discovered by Annika on the following Sunday morning. She was briefly suspected, as was pretty much everyone Alex knew well but she had an airtight alibi for the murder. There was complete confusion about the motive and the fact that quite obviously nothing even remotely like a fight had taken place. No connection was made to Lucy Sherman who had only been seen with him once and her application was never checked again, until three years later by a person who had never seen Lucy in real life.
Six months after Alex had been murdered, SouthStar Chips went bankrupt after a series of severe software damage and agreements that had not been complied, because of some trouble with non-existent mail addresses. An aspiring French company that built similar chips –curiously similar actually- took over the market in no time.
Natalia Romanova had to take a course against sentimentality on missions, even though she repeatedly stated there had been no such thing. Madame B considered a medication to suppress sexual desires and on the next mission Natalia was provided with that, but she never took it, for once because she would never touch their drugs again and secondly because it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway.

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

Congratulations to naomiromanoff, you guessed the correctly :D (Now I'm curious why you like Germany as a country)

This is a little different in layout than the other ones, I don't know, I just didn't feel like changing it.
And Natalia gets a moment of heroism that I really like AND at the same time it's the first sleeper mission we get to see (and tbh, Alex had it coming, I just really don't like him XD)
Oh my god, we're moving forward so fast... I'm so excited to share this with ya'll :D
xx

Chapter 8: S2/08: Hot vengeance

Summary:

Natalia continues figuring herself out when she is presented with a delicate mission. Her client is out for revenge and sends her to a very precarious location…

Music piece: “Angels on a rampage” by Sunrise Avenue

Notes:

Loki looks at her slyly.
"Can you?" he asks. "Can you wipe out that much red?"
Natasha's jaw hardens, but she doesn't break eye contact.
"Sao Paulo?" Loki continues. "Drejkov's daughter? The hospital fire?"
Natasha stands still, staring at him, dread in her green eyes.
"Barton told me everything."

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Hot vengeance

◄◄◄►►►

Routinely, Natalia Romanova threw hits at the punching bag in the small training room that she liked to call her own. She was not really training very hard, she was merely keeping herself busy before leaving for Europe on the night flight. Madame B didn’t like her to have too much time spent uselessly, so she had told her to go boxing to stay in shape.
Natalia let her thoughts wander aimlessly, briefly touching the mission at hand, but dropping the thought again, she’d have to think about it long enough. Then the girls, calculating where they were at right now and speculating a little how their training would continue. Then she came to herself, which was something she didn’t really like coming to, thinking about the last few missions, about her mindset, about her failures and weaknesses…
There it was again, that thought. She had tried forgetting about it, but it came back.
There had been this dream once, not a dream, really, but a vision, a… she still didn’t dare to call it a memory.
That name, the short form of her name. The feelings it had caused, this overwhelming, foreign feeling that had scared her enough to break her shield for a few seconds. There had been something.
Natalia felt a shudder run through her body at the thought that struck her. What would happen if she tried again? If she said it, that name, out loud? What would it do to her?
There’s no way I’m doing that.
Natalia would have been proud to say that she shook the thought and went back to work, giving 120% like she usually did. But, as usual, if someone has a choice whether to do something or leave it, they will fight the temptation for a while and then give in. Natalia wouldn't have done it if she had been forbidden, she was disciplined enough for that, but since there was only herself and her curiosity and fear to battle, she had a harder time. Now the thought was there, she wanted to know what would happen. Of course, there would be a practical use, too. If that name had a strong impact on her it could be used against her and she would have to work against that. In a way, she had to know.
Finishing a flawless combination and lightly coming back to her feet, she returned to boxing simply. She was disciplined, she could deal with a small word. She had been caught off-guard back then, she was prepared now. It would be fine.
She whispered it so quietly that she only heard the air moving, not the word itself. It was certainly smart to test it carefully…
“Natasha,” she whispered again, more clearly, bracing herself for a blow.
It felt like she had done something forbidden. Nothing like the first time, but enough for her to stop boxing for the moment. Back when she had first come here, ‘Natalia’ had felt wrong to her, she had only referred to herself as Natalia because there was nothing else to call herself. Until today, she had never realized that it had changed. She had become Natalia because everyone called her that; because she had memories and experiences as Natalia. And now there it was, that simple name, and managed to feel like there were memories and experiences attached to it, too, even though there was only one. ‘Natasha’ existed, too, and in a much purer way than ‘Natalia’ did.
Natalia stood and just felt, overwhelmed in an oddly positive way.
It was real. It was there at her very core. It was wrong, most likely, surely this person inside of her wasn’t supposed to exist. She should try to get that girl by the other name out of her, Natalia. That would be the reasonable thing to do.
She’d shut it in deep inside of herself and never let anyone see it. This was hers and hers alone.

◄◄◄►►►
[Intro]
◄◄◄►►►

“So I get this right?” The young assassin looked at him. “You want me to break into the hospital and kill this old rival of yours? And I have to do it the way you want?”
Mathieu Moreels pointed at the suitcase in front of him. A ridiculous sum, but she had been recommended to him as the best of her trade. Veuve Noire, Black Widow. She was very young for a reputation like that, he thought, and she seemed to know about it. Her eyebrows were raised as if his request was completely outlandish. Her French was flawless, but so clear and pronounced that he could tell it wasn’t her native tongue.
“I suppose I offer you enough to expect you meet my demand.”
She threw her hair back, a little brisk gesture, her mouth formed a rather discontent grimace.
“I admit you don’t seem to run low on money. But you have to understand that I don't work like that. This way of killing, let alone the location, those are risks that would be stupid to take if you want someone out of the way." She leaned forward, looking him straight in the eye. "Why not just leave it all to me? I could make this way more inconspicuous and the delay would be minimal."
Mathieu’s face went red with anger. Who did she think she was?
“Listen, I pay you half a million and supply you with everything you need! For that I expect you to work at my conditions!”
“I don’t see why it shouldn’t be done at his home! Public locations like that bear enormous risks, and I don’t even mean for me, but for you! The house is set on fire, fine, an accident. But a fire spreading from one room with high-quality electrics that are not too much known for randomly exploding… A fire in public space is examined way more carefully and if they look deeply into him they are bound to find connections to you and that –curiously enough- your house was set on fire years ago and that you publicly accused him of doing that!”
Mathieu, who had not told any of this to her or his contact suddenly felt like he was naked in a meeting. Someone did their homework…
“I want it done now!” he insisted. “Besides, his place is highly guarded, day and night, dogs and alarms and all that.”
“And you hired a professional killer and think I’m not capable of disabling alarms and taking out some dogs?"
“He won’t return there for weeks!” Mathieu shouted. “This is the perfect opportunity to take him out! He’s vulnerable now!”
The woman got up, leaning onto the table. Her eyes sparkled.
“I don’t need vulnerable! I can take him down, no matter his state!”
Mathieu backed away a little. She was certainly way more dangerous than she looked.
She looked at her phone.
“Please excuse me for a second,” she said more calmly and turned, typing a message, waiting for an answer, typing again, reading, nodding. Mathieu wondered if he should call in his guards and have her contained. He didn’t like her demeanor at all, questioning, acting like she was in charge.
The woman returned to the table, sitting down again, suddenly perfectly calm.
“Good,” she said. “If there is no possibility in delaying it, fine. I would like to say, however, that I do not take responsibility for any possible consequences for you. And I take 250 000 extra to weigh out the risk.”
Mathieu gulped, but her whole posture said ‘We’re finished talking’. He would have liked to dismiss her, but she knew too much already. Something would have to be done about that…
“I will be providing you with material,” he said, trying to sound as put together and firm as possible. “Three days time.”
“A pleasure to make business with you,” she said, a slight tone of mockery in her voice that he didn’t like one bit. Yes, he would have to do something about her…

◄◄◄►►►

The tab had been running for a good amount of time. Damp steam filled the bathroom when Natalia dropped her clothing next to the tub, studied the cover of the bath essence provided by the hotel, and added as much as it said.
In the years outside, she had maybe once taken a bath, showering was quicker and you made yourself less vulnerable, but she had gotten the sudden urge to lie down and get the smell of Moreel’s cigars off her skin.
Careful not to slip, she entered the bathtub, the foamy water playing around her shins. It was a big tub, nice to lie down in. Gently, Natalia settled, stretching her muscles that were a bit tensed from the long flight last night.
It might be less efficient, but god, that was something one could get used to.
Slowly, Natalia felt her shoulders relax. The warm water felt good on her skin, the flowery scent of the essence filled the air. Natalia leaned back comfortably, inhaling deeply. Foam settled on her fingers, dancing as she moved them slightly. Checking again whether she had locked the door, she closed her eyes.
She was feeling too comfortable in here. After all, this was a hotel room in Belgium, the outside world, she ought to feel a sense of danger, never feeling safe until she got back home.
In earlier days, Natalia had been shy to admit her feelings to herself, as if that would make them real. She still was but to a lesser degree. Her thoughts might be weak and traitorous, but they didn't have an impact on her work just now, so she felt like she didn't have to hide them.
Picking up some foam from the surface of the water, she created a mustache on her lips. That was stupid… but she didn’t really regret it. It was childish, but somehow that gave it a feeling of comfort.
Reaching out to the tab, she added more hot water until the bath was almost steaming. That was so nice.
“Natasha,” she whispered conspiratorially, feeling the warmth the name caused her run through her tenderly. Now she knew it wouldn’t hurt her she felt like saying it again, getting the comfort it gave her. Here she felt safe to do it, unlike at home.
She had preferred to be home before. Outside had been the tedious, tiring, dangerous part of her life which she had hated. And now… not safe, she never really felt safe, not even at night in her own bed. But it was okay going outside, not because of the missions, but because of the time between. The flights were fine, she liked watching movies or reading and tuning out for a while. This was nice, the comforts of a hotel, the food, enough to feed her twice, even walking around through the streets had a sense of tranquility. She found herself to be more unsettled on the flights back recently. There was no reason for that, of course, but she undeniably didn’t mind the more frequent periods of absence.
There was only one reason why she actively wanted to go home these days, and that was the girls. She was going heavily on survival training because when all was said and done she didn’t want them to fail even though she knew they most likely would someday. She could train them better, teach them to do better than her fellows and she had done.
Christina was getting a little better recently, and Natalia was proud of that because she had managed to pickpocket a book on relieving stress and anxiety, speed-read it on the flight home, and taught Christina as much as she remembered which was basically a ton of different breathing exercises. The fact that they helped her made Natalia feel so… good. She was proud of Christina for pushing through. She was proud of all of them for pushing through, even though that was the only job they had.
Their relationship was strange, she had trusted them beyond everything to get in control of her body and mind after the long drug use and they had never said anything about it. Szofia and Olga had politely but frequently asked about her pills and how many she was taking, smiling when she said she’d gone down another half one. It was treason on their part, not that it wasn't on hers, but at their age, she had been more loyal to the program, hadn't she? Even though, as a teacher, she was part of the program they were supposed to be loyal to… it was complicated.
Natalia ran her fingers over her body absentmindedly. It felt different underwater, softer, even the scars didn’t feel as prominent. She didn’t like the feel of her hip area, as well as her collarbone and wrists, it always felt like a hard fall would pulverize the bone right beneath the skin. That was ridiculous, of course, but she wished there was some more flesh to protect her skeleton at these places.
Everything had changed with the drugs. Natalia knew autonomy wasn’t a thing she was entitled to, she belonged to the program and they could do whatever they wanted with her, but still, the drugs felt like they had taken something that had been left untouched before. It had always been her own job to discipline her mind –or decide that the punishment was worth it and she felt very clearly that she wanted it to stay like that. Whether that was reasonable or not didn’t matter, the feeling was there, the feeling that a drug wasn’t allowed to dictate her thoughts. She wanted to be allowed to choose to obey –it was surely very stupid, but since she knew they’d not even allow her to disobey her, they didn’t allow her to fail, but would just make her succeed…
She felt not too bad about not taking her pills, surprisingly. If she were to take them, she might lose another one of the girls, and not taking them didn't cause any financial damage to the program because she always got them their money, so it was fine. She knew she should be feeling guilty about disobeying orders, no matter if they were pointless, but she didn't. Not about this.
Yes, maybe she was indeed asking for the privilege to be allowed to fail and be punished for it.
Natalia shook her head impatiently, getting up from her bath reluctantly. She was being unreasonable, wasting her time on thoughts like that. She had to get ready for her mission, pack her stuff and drop by Moreel’s secret warehouse to pick up the supplies.
Time to get ready.

◄◄◄►►►

“I’d like to visit Monsieur de Loof, please," the young brunette in the baggy olive green dress said to the woman at the reception of the Bruges Hospital. The tired receptionist didn't even waste a second glance at the girl.
"Third floor, room 345," she said and with a murmured thank you the visitor went off to the elevator. At an airport the massive bag might have raised suspicions, but not here. The elevator was empty except for a frail-looking old lady who was obviously more concerned with the contents of her handbag than the girl next to her. It was almost too easy.
The truth was that this mission wasn’t hard, not even risky. Except if the material failed, of course, but usually flammable stuff doesn’t fail to burn very easily. Natalia could have done this with her eyes closed, it was most certainly easier than working herself through the alarm system and the damned dogs. No, the risk was not the reason why she hadn't wanted to do it this way. Nor was publicity, no, she could have basically walked through here with a gun in plain sight. Of course, it was stupid to insist on this idiot being burned to death, but death was death at the end of the day, so that wasn't the problem either, even though she was generally opposed to torture. If you want someone dead, get it over with. There was no point in dragging it out except to satisfy sadistic tendencies.
He insists on doing it in the hospital with fire, she had written to Madame B when she had been bargaining with Moreels. I believe that’s quite ridiculous and a completely unnecessary risk to take.
Madame B had answered promptly and firmly. His motives or risks are none of your concern.
Should I keep trying to convince him to do it the proper way?
No. Take the mission. Demand a pay rise.
So she had done that, hating herself for giving in that way. Personal vendettas just weren’t her thing, sure, they made a huge amount of money, but they were also childish and often incredibly more cruel than other jobs. Sure, that guy she was off to kill had set Moreels’ house on fire with the intent to kill him and he’d gotten away with it, too. He wasn’t innocent, he might even deserve it. But did that excuse anything else than a quick and painless bullet, same result, but clean? What gave Moreels the right to painfully execute this man, have him executed, rather? Only to satisfy his inner court of justice, tit-for-tat sort of thing? Was that justice? Did a murderer deserve to be murdered in their own way, so to speak?
Well, Natalia thought cynically, then it should be hard to decide how I get to die.

◄◄◄►►►

Monsieur de Loof did not have any visitor this evening, but it was not very likely he would have enjoyed the visit of the brunette girl anyway since he had no idea who she was. In room 336, however, a visit was being made. Monsieur Dumortier was fast asleep, he’d had a car accident a few weeks prior and was still very weak. Natalia did not wake him and tell him what Moreels had told her to say. “You know why this is done to you. Everyone has to pay for their debts. Justice is being done.”
This was an inaccuracy she was completely fine with since there was no way anyone would prove it. Often, these vengeance-driven people had stuff to say to their victims, but Natalia saw no reason to supply that need of theirs unless they demanded a recording of it, which Moreels hadn’t done. Bad for him.
She switched into a blonde wig and a nurse outfit, gloves included, turning her bag inside out and thereby transforming it to a white, medical-looking bag. When she had arranged her supplies and packed everything she would need to take along again she set to work. She had no idea what the stuff she used was in detail, she doubted it was what it said on the bottle. If possible it should only set the room on fire and then be put out. She set up the fuze, a small thing, almost invisible. Then the liquid, careful not to get anything on herself. Now that was definitely not petroleum…
His pillow and blanket were soaking now, unless he was fireproof there was no way he’d survive that.
Natalia turned around once, nodding as she was sure she could disappear without a trace. That was so simple, such a pathetic mission. She was surprised at how indignant she felt about that. Any amateur could get that right.
She left the room. Better get a bit of space between the room and her, who knew how bad that stuff was… better safe than sorry.
She went along the hallway and went to the nearby emergency telephone. No matter what, this was still a hospital and civilian casualties were not in her mission directive-
She shook her head. Why was she always doing that to herself? That was the third time this year that she knowingly went against her training. One time they’d found out.
Had not been pleasant.
But perfectly worth it.
Not.
Actually yes.
Shut up. Should feel guilty, get it right. These people are none of your business.
Natalia considered for a moment. 112 it was in Europe, 911 in the US.
“Hello?”
“Fire department Bruges, what can I do for you?”
“There has been an accident. Bruges Hospital, a fire in one of the rooms. It’s spreading fast.”
“Alright, Miss, we’re on the way, can you…”
Natalia hung up and let the telephone hang loosely as if someone had been in a hurry.
Then she breathed through and looked back at the door of the death trap she had created. Now better be fast, not that someone found out the fire department had been called before the actual fire…
She pressed the button.

An explosion emerges and the shock wave throws Natalia across the hallway. Dazedly she moves as hot smoke hisses around her. Flames break out of the hospital room, quickly spreading. Natalia is deafened by the explosion, but there are faint screams to be heard.

Natalia coughed violently and arched her back in pain. There were flames licking on her bag and she quickly put them out as she came back to her feet. Holy crap.
She held her wrist to her body, not broken, bruised most likely. So much for safety, that piece of shit Moreels had really tried to kill her, too. And thereby he would sacrifice people who had nothing to do with it.
Better get away from here.
In some distance, she could see an alarm button. Well, that was something she could certainly do on the way. She sounded the alarm running by. At the same moment, another one started wailing on the other side of the hallway around the corner. She’d obviously not been wrong about the fire spreading fast…
“Help!”
The voice was weak, but certainly close by. A woman. A civilian. None of her business. Get. Away. Now.
“Oh, fuck it!” Natalia cursed and ran back. The smoke made her cough and made it difficult to see.
“Call again!” she called out.
“Help!”
She could see her now, lying on the floor. Not a nurse, a patient.
Natalia quickly assessed the injuries. Nothing severe, just scared mostly.
“Come on,” she said hoarsely. “We better get moving.”
The woman scrambled to her feet, the very presence of another person helped her.
“Is there anyone else in the room?”
“No, just me.”
“Good. Let’s get to the stairs, okay?"
She didn’t talk to the woman, just supported her. She was scared, more scared than she should be. But it was a weird sort of fear, a tranquil, collected one. She was definitely not scared for herself.
At the stairs, she ran into a real nurse who quickly helped her support the patient.
"Can you do that alone?" Natalia asked as if they knew each other, her voice was not recognizable anyway. "I think there are more in danger, I have to go back to help."
“You should wait for the fire department, it’s dangerous!” The nurse protested.
"No time for that!" Natalia called back and went back into the smoke-filled corridor, putting the facemask she had just pick-pocketed over her nose to make breathing easier.
She knew she should leave before the helpers arrived. But she didn't. She didn’t even really consider it.
She found three more patients that needed help, but for two of them, she could not do anything because they were too badly hurt. She’d have to hope for the helpers to save them. The other one, a young man with a broken leg she brought to the stairs as well where another nurse helped her. Her target was dead, as well as the two inhabitants of the room next to him. But wait…
“If you can hear me, please call out!” Natalia shivered despite the heat. This was way too familiar.
She clenched her fists. This room was about to collapse completely, it would be madness to go in there.

The debris was like a parkours, there was hardly room to move. She wished she was physically more equipped to lift stuff.
The young woman moved the tiniest bit as Natalia approached. There were severe burns on her skin, but she was alive. As the ceiling gave an alarming rumble, Natalia found herself shielding the other one with her body. She frowned a little, but then just helped the dazed young woman to get up.
“You have to do exactly what I tell you. I’m gonna get you to safety, okay?”
She dragged the woman more than anything else. Probably she was causing her extreme pain, maybe even more injuries, but she kept on moving.
She heard mechanical sounds from outside, the fire department most likely. Hastily she pulled the woman out of the room, basically bumping into a firefighter.
“What on earth?” He tried to help her, but she shook her head.
“I’m alright, help her.”
“You have to get out of here, come on.”
“There are two other injured ones, in those two rooms.”
“Okay, we’ll deal with that, you’ve done more than enough, now get out of here. We have the turntable ladder over there, can you manage that?”
“Sure.”
Natalia didn’t go to the turntable ladder. She went to the window of a room that was just full of smoke but not on fire and took the window herself. As her feet touched the grass she breathed out, feeling painfully how much smoke she had inhaled. Quickly she put off the white nurse jacket, the wig, and the cap. Completely in black, she left the sight of her crime.
They would think she had died, that was fine. Now she had to make sure that she made clear one did not mess with the Black Widow.

◄◄◄►►►

“I’m here for my payment.” Her voice was dangerously low.
Moreels gulped. There she was, perfectly alive, though a little pale. He would have to pay her, that was inconvenient.
Discontent, he offered her the suitcase, 750 000 €.
“I heard you did a good job.”
The woman smiled emotionlessly as she checked the money.
“I always do.”
“Well, I’d say my money is well invested. Very much obliged, Mademoiselle.”
“You can say that again.” The remark made a shiver run down his spine.
“After all, you got your payment. Well, if you please, I have…”
“Your money was indeed well invested, Monsieur,” The Black Widow’s stare was suddenly threatening. “Not in petroleum, however. Curious, isn’t it, that it was actually something with a much wider range?”
A pearl of sweat ran down Moreels’ forehead.
“Very curious,” he pressed out.
“Indeed.” She got up and walked around him. “Almost a bit too curious.”
Moreels felt more sweat running down.
"What do you want?"
“250 000 for wanting me killed. And trust me, it’s only because it was so badly done that you get away so cheaply.”
Hastily Moreels felt for notes in the drawer, counting the sum on the table. Discreetly, he pressed a button under his desk.
As his guards stormed the office, Moreels saw with terror how his visitor sighed.
“You really did have to do that, didn’t you?”
She jumped onto the desk and from there at his defense force. Within the blink of an eye two men fell. Moreels sat paralyzed while his best men groaned and shouted as they were overtaken like bloody first-graders. He felt a gun being pressed against the back of his head.
“You could have had that cheaper,” was the last thing he heard.
Natalia shook her head and wiped her hands before she collected the money and took the newspaper from the desk.

Tragedy in Bruges Hospital
At least four patients and one still unidentified nurse have lost their lives in yesterday’s fire tragedy, three other patients are still in a critical state of health. Until now there is no information on the fire’s cause, though a case of arson might not be out of the question. The police are still investigating.

Natalia bowed her head slightly. Three innocent people then. And maybe another three.
She took her gun and shot Moreels again, even though he was already dead. She shot another time.
“I wish you had died in that fire all those years ago.”
She shot a few more times until her magazine was empty. Oh damn, was she feeling good about killing him! She couldn't kill herself or the people that made her do this, but this man she could punish and be sure he deserved it.
She put the gun away and put the newspaper back.
Further down in the article a firefighter talked about the nurse that they believed dead.
“She definitely saved that woman’s life, no matter if she makes it. The only thing she worried about were the other patients. So courageous and completely selfless. A real hero.”
Natalia laughed sarcastically, not letting the underlying sadness break through.
“Might want to overthink your opinion,” she said into empty space. “Because if I am the hero, the world is most certainly doomed.”
She left the room and the house, walking past all the faceless people who had no clue.
“There are no heroes.”

◄◄◄►►►
[End Credits]
◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

Geez, I have to try so hard not to spoil anything for the next chapter(s), I'm so excited!
But yeah, here we have another one of the missions Loki teased in Avengers. I know there's a deleted scene in Winter Soldier where Pierce refers to it as the Children's ward, but... no. My version of Natalia just draws the line at children, period. That would be a little too morally grey for me...
Anyway, next chapter will be EXCITING; I hope you're enjoying yourselves, thank you to everyone who takes the time to comment, it means so much <3

Chapter 9: S2/09: Russian Roulette

Summary:

“Maximum Casualties” is Natalia’s directive for the mission at hand, something she, despite everything she’s been taught, still doesn’t feel comfortable with. She has to make a choice, bundle all her deadly skill and murder innocents, or consciously go against the will of the people she depends on.
Meanwhile, a special organization develops an interest in the infamous assassin…

Music piece: “What are you waiting for?” by Nickelback

Notes:

AHHHH, I'm so excited!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Russian Roulette

◄◄◄►►►

File sorting was one of the things that S.H.I. E.L.D’s new recruits got to do a lot. The reason for this was fairly simple. It was standard, easy, and utterly boring work that Director Nicholas J. Fury, head of the United States’ biggest secret service, despised. The files he was looking at right now were highly confidential, though, and he hadn’t anyone with a high enough security clearance available to do it for him.
Grumpily, he flipped through the papers, half-listening to the news broadcast on the big screen, when the door was opened and Maria Hill, a slender, dark-haired Agent entered and put a stack of reports on his desk.
“They just need to be signed before going into archive, Sir.”
Fury looked up.
“Thank you.”
Maria Hill was young, too young for the post she had a lot of people had thought when he had practically made her his left hand next to the much more experienced Agent Coulson, but today few would have dared to say it out loud. She knew how to get the respect she deserved, one stare out of her steel-blue eyes usually shut everyone right up.
Fury hadn’t regretted his decision, true, he generally only regretted few of his decisions, but Hill was truly worth gold. Not only was she reliable, hardworking, smart, and loyal, she also had the thing that Fury appreciated most in his top agents, and that was an opinion. Another boss might have thought her opinionated, even disrespectful at times, and true, they did disagree a lot, “with all due respect, Sir, I think that’s a rotten idea.”, but that was exactly what he needed. If he found her opinion wrong, he could still dismiss it.
Hill threw a look at the screen.
“What’s the fuss about?” she asked, securing her hair tie. Fury put down the file.
“There is concerning news from San Francisco. A murder. The witnesses have mentioned a red-haired girl who wanted to protect the victim, or so she told them. They don’t have very detailed descriptions, but it all points to a certain little spider.”
Hill looked at the screen for a while, at a relatively clean crime site, there hadn’t been a fight, apparently. At the witnesses who worked at the club the victim had regularly visited, though ‘club’ was definitely a very family-friendly description for the establishment.
The murderer, the woman being interviewed just explained, had worked with them for a while though they had not seen much of her. Taking a real job for a mission, this particular one at that… impressive investment. But it seemed to have worked out perfectly.
“You think it’s that assassin? The Black Widow? But she was never in America so far.”
She was into that topic a little deeper than most, Fury knew she followed the news as well as the underground gossip closely as far as the ‘Black Widow’ was concerned. It was a special interest of hers, the mystery surrounding this character was something that fascinated her. He sighed.
“We don’t know that, for all we know she might have been. What concerns me is how open it is. She wasn’t scared to play all of them at once and it worked out, nobody questioned her story. She even stayed another day after the murder, ranting about how she failed and all that.”
Hill raised an eyebrow.
“I admit that’s daring.”
Fury sighed again. Assassins were tricky, especially this one. She was good.
“If she’s operating on American ground from now on, I’m afraid I’ll have to increase efforts to find her out,” he concluded grimly, adding thoughtfully “I really wonder how not a single soul seems to know about her. Even the people she’s worked with know nothing but the red hair, usually. If they don’t wind up dead themselves, that is.”
“She doesn’t kill many of them,” Hill argued. “That guy in Belgium last year and maybe the other… forgot the name, but we don’t even know if he hired her or if someone else killed him.”
“She can hardly kill her clients,” Fury commented. “Makes for a rotten reputation, even though it would fit her name. Point is, even people who do their research have no idea whom they’re hiring. It’s hard not to ‘exist’ at all.”
“She might have faked her death, for example,” Hill suggested, but Fury shook his head.
“That would come out sooner or later, someone always remembers, especially when the criminal becomes that infamous. Even if she killed everyone who knew that would still make a pattern.”
Hill nodded. “You’re right, if there’s anything, it’s certainly not a pattern.” She straightened her uniform, changing to her professional tone. “Do you want me to make inquiries, Sir? To see if we can find a pattern anywhere?”
Fury nodded appreciatively.
“I’ll let you know if I want you to. I’ll have to figure things out first.”
Hill nodded, leaving for the door. “Yes, Sir.”

◄◄◄►►►

CUT. INT. hideout –day. It’s gloomy and dark inside. A small curtain moves in a breeze before being pushed aside by a heavily armed man, wearing a scarf that half-conceals his face. Behind him, Natalia enters the hideout, wearing her Red Room uniform. She is led to a tiny room where another man is waiting for her in the dark. They nod at each other and he pushes a file over the table. Natalia takes it, nodding again. The man offers her a hand with a massive ring on it, seemingly expecting her to kiss it. Natalia takes it, bows a little without averting her glance, and shakes it.
Her eyes flicker dangerously.

◄◄◄►►►
[Intro]
◄◄◄►►►

The plane ride was rather relaxed today. Natalia had put on headphones and watched the movie they had put on, a romantic historical drama kind of thing, ‘Pride and Prejudice’. As so often before, she found her sympathies being drawn not to the actual protagonist, but in this case rather to Mr. Darcy, the love interest. His awkwardness felt a little like he hadn’t been trained to exist in the outside world and she could relate to that. She could also appreciate their happily ever after because it was nice to think they’d be happy together and share a life with each other and always have someone to talk to. It was kind of ridiculous, Natalia reflected, for her to wish for someone to talk to when she literally was the worst talker there was.
When the movie was finished, she was asked whether she wanted to watch ‘What women want’ based on ‘her interests’, but she declined, closing the menu. Seemingly staring out of the window dreamily, she followed the game of the little girl across the aisle who was apparently acting out Jurassic Park with her toy dinos, an activity that Natalia honestly found far more engaging to observe than re-watching the actual film.

◄◄◄►►►

Back at the Red Room, she finally had time to open the file she’d been given by her clients. A terrorist organization, a rather small one –Eclipse, they called themselves. Wanting a big statement attack, but weren’t in the position to do it themselves. What sort of terrorists would honestly hire a killer on-demand, Natalia thought mockingly. What sort of terror is that, really?
It was a thin file she looked at right now, the instructions were everything but precise.
“London, city center. Maximum casualties. 20th of April, 20 past 4 pm” were literally the only instructions. A bomb attack, they wanted.
Supplies, building, planning, even the location, all that would be on her to plan. That was the laziest and most poorly planned job she’d gotten all year.
Natalia reached out for a piece of paper and started writing down the supplies she would need for this. Possibly, it would be best to get the pieces directly in the country, and then assemble it spontaneously. She had learned how to build a bomb with a timer, that shouldn’t be a problem.
Most of it, except the explosive, she could get from a hardware store. Better a few hardware stores, buying a collection of inconspicuous things with one or two supplies amongst them. Possibly out of London, they’d look more closely there. The farther away, the better.
She continued adding a few items to cover each supply and then added the cities where she could buy them, working down from North to South. She’d take the good suitcase for the explosive.
A couple of minutes later she knocked on Madame B’s door, quite timidly. She hated having to ask for things for missions, and this one promised to be quite expensive in advance. Of course, the clients would have to cover for it, but Madame B didn't seem to like to hand out money to Natalia, especially not cash like she would have to this time. Natalia could guess why easily. Having money would make it easier for her to desert, not much easier and certainly not enough to be successful, but Madame B didn't want to track her down and drag her back, naturally. Since the incident, they didn't trust her loyalty as much as they had done before.
“Entrée,” Madame B called and Natalia opened the door and curtseyed.
“I have made myself familiar with the mission at hand, ma’am.”
Madame B nodded, hardly looking up from the files she was looking at. Natalia spotted the pictures of Szofia and Anastasia on them. She didn’t want to look, certainly, but she was wondering what was up with that. First mission? A bit early, but it might be that.
“Are there any problems with it?” Madame B interrupted her thoughts.
Natalia straightened her shoulders.
“No, ma’am, it’s just that there’s a lot of preparation needed. I’ll have to find a fitting location and get all the supplies before I can get through with it and I…” She hesitated, that was another thing she didn’t want to ask for. “I fear it can hardly be done without renting a car, ma’am.”
Madame B made a gesture, telling Natalia silently to explain her point. Quickly, Natalia outlined her plan and added “I think taking the train would be very suspicious, ma’am.”
Madame B nodded dismissively.
“Alright, I’ll organize a car for you. How much time do you need before the 20th?”
“I think I can get everything done in five days, including the flight from here.”
“Good. Do you have decided on a location for the attack?”
Natalia shook her head. “No, ma’am, I’m still considering that. It’s a question of getting away in time and staying off any camera feed, it’s a bit complicated.”
Madame B nodded. “Make sure you find one in time.”
“I will, ma’am.”
Natalia had often wondered whether Madame B actually cared about her missions. Often, she seemed so indifferent about them, as long as the money would be paid and it didn't take longer than necessary. Yes, she did care about the result, didn't like it if Natalia twisted the directive, probably because it would be bad for the reputation, but the planning she didn’t want to be bothered with.
Natalia left, going over to ‘her’ practice room because she preferred working there, her room was so dark and gloomy all the time and while she could work there, the light in the training room helped her to concentrate.
The mission was alright. She’d have a while to drive through a country on her own, only interrupted by her daily reports, that would be nice. And once she had found a good location, it would only be a matter of dropping the bomb and running. Simple.
The girls came around for a round of training, they had grown so much, Natalia thought, in the three years they had known one another. Even Olga, the youngest, was now eleven and Christina was well off to become a young woman. It was insane to think that she was just five years younger than Natalia herself.
They trained together, doing the exercise that they called ‘the web’, where Natalia would be in the middle and going against all of them at once. She predicted she’d start honestly struggling with that in three years or so, right now it was more like practice for all of them.
“When will you be on your next mission?” Szofia asked at the end, clearly hoping it wouldn’t be for a while. Natalia sighed.
“In three or four days at most.”
“But you’ve only come back today!” Irina pouted a little.
Natalia shrugged. “I know. It’s not up to me.”
“When will you be back?”
Again, Natalia sighed. “A week, maybe more.” Probably more.
She watched them leave, heads hung low. She didn’t really understand why they wanted her to be here so badly. Sure, she didn’t punish them, but that didn’t explain why they’d like her to be here. At the end of the day, this was still additional training, without it, they’d have fewer hours per day.
Anyway, Natalia cut off her own thoughts and let her mind circle back to her mission.
The location question wouldn’t be that hard to solve. After all, she’d just have to find a busy place close to the underground. Shouldn’t be a problem.

◄◄◄►►►

CUT. INT. Natalia’s room –night/early morning. Natalia wakes, clearly still tired. Yawning, she stretches and sits up, routinely taking three pills out of her pillbox and hiding them in her storing box.
CUT. A bit later. Natalia, dressed in a blouse and skirt, hair tied up, is sitting in the dark room, the only light coming from her computer. She is studying a map of London, turning a pencil in her hand, but there’s nothing written on the piece of paper next to her yet.
She’s zooming closer to the places she’s referring to.

NATALIA quietly London Eye. 800 capacity, probably three pods damaged, makes 70. Tower Bridge. 30 to 50 if done right. The parade is earlier, that street will be the main exit… expected up to 10 000 visitors, not easy to calculate, more if there’s a panic… for hell’s sake!

She drops the pencil, burying her head. In her mind, she can hear the chaos of an explosion and screaming people.

NATALIA There’s got to be something else…
VOICE V.O What are you waiting for?

Natalia spins around, but the room is deserted. She frowns, shaking her head.

What are you waiting for?

Turning around again, Natalia sees Masha emerging from the shadows.

NATALIA tonelessly Masha?

With each line, another one of the trainees appears, making Natalia turn again and again, nervously trying to keep her eyes on all of them as they surround her.

Are you waiting on a lightning strike? Sonia
Are you waiting for the perfect night? Olga
Are you waiting till the time is right? Galina
What are you waiting for?

Don't you want to learn to deal with fear? Alexandra
Don't you want to take the wheel and steer? Antonina
Don't you wait another minute here Veronika
What are you waiting for? [Music continuing]

NATALIA But… Nikki…

Veronika steps up to her, takes her hand, and smiles.

VERONIKA softly Come.

She pulls her straight through the wall, landing in a busy street in London. The girls’ dresses change, they are all dressed casually, only Natalia is still in her uniform. The people are swarming around them, the mood is casual and happy. Confused, Natalia lets Veronika guide her.

NATALIA Where… what are you doing?
SONIA Finding a good place.

Natalia finds a bomb in her hands, startling visibly.

NATALIA weakly I don’t know where…
ANTONINA Now come, we all know you don’t want to do this the proper way.
NATALIA I ought to, right?
SONIA softly But you care about the people. The innocents. You don’t want to kill them.

Suddenly, they are in front of the London Eye. Natalia takes a step back, pressing the bomb closer to her chest.

NATALIA I want to be good…
MASHA When I said “show them you’re better than them”, I didn’t mean to be an even more ruthless monster.
NATALIA I’m not…
OLGA Have you ever wondered whether it’s maybe not your feelings that are wrong? Not everyone out here can be pretending.
NATALIA increasingly defensive I’m supposed to finish my missions the proper way. Feelings make me do it differently.
ALEXANDRA And it makes you feel better, doesn’t it?
NATALIA It’s not supposed to be that way, I can’t help it!
MASHA If it’s not supposed to be that way, how come everyone does it? The outside world is billions of people, and the system works just fine and they don’t kill each other.

CUT. EXT. Tower Bridge –day. They stand in the middle of the road, cars racing by (no sound). Again, Natalia keeps the bomb.

SONIA You were happy when you allowed your feelings. Do you not remember that?
NATALIA not convinced I was vulnerable, weak. I’ve become stronger…
ANTONINA And? Was it a good trade?
NATALIA I can’t be hurt… I couldn’t be hurt if I were strong enough.
MASHA Like Maria? That’s who you want to be?

Hastily, almost disgustedly, Natalia shakes her head.
CUT. EXT. parade –day. Thousands of people are swarming around, approaching the street the small group is standing in. In what is obviously almost flight, Natalia steps back.

NATALIA I can’t do this. It’s not right.
ANTONINA softly You’re right. These people don’t deserve to die. You can save them.
NATALIA I can’t refuse the mission.
MASHA Do it your way. You can do this, you can be strong.
OLGA Sometime, you have to start. Do want to keep doing this forever?
ALEXANDRA It’s a question of the price. If you refuse to pay it, others will. You can take the pain, and these people can live.
GALINA How much more suffering do you want to cause?
NATALIA in despair We’ve all been trained the exact same way! How can you be so… tonelessly strong?
VERONIKA You are stronger than you think, Talia.

They make way for her, giving her room for her decision. In the distance, Natalia sees Madame B and Ivan, waiting to punish her.

Everybody's going to make mistakes
But everybody's got a choice to make
Everybody needs a leap of faith
When are you taking yours?

Breathing through, Natalia throws the bomb away into the River Thames where it dissolves into dust. Threateningly, her superiors approach, but Veronika and Masha take Natalia by the hands and start running towards them, leaping off the ground, carried out of reach. Natalia breathes through, relieved to be saved from the punishment.

What are you waiting for?
You gotta go and reach for the top
Believe in every dream that you've got
You're only livin' once, so tell me
What are you, what are you waiting for?
You know you've got to give it your all
(What are you, you, you)
What are you waiting for?
You're only livin' once, so tell me
What are you, what are you waiting for?

CUT. INT. Natalia’s room –night. They land softly, back to a normal environment. Slowly, Natalia’s fellows become transparent and disappear one by one.

What are you, what are you-
What are you, what are you waiting for?
What are you, what are you-
What are you, what are you waiting for? [End of song]

CUT. INT. Natalia’s room –morning. Natalia blinks, lifting her head up from the laptop. She’s dozed off for a while, now she yawns and stretches herself. A bit confused, she looks around, then shakes her head, realizing she has just dreamt the whole thing.

NATALIA V.O Back to business, shall we?

She focuses her attention on her laptop again, re-opening the map. Scanning the city closely, she narrows her eyes, zooming in on a building.

NATALIA V.O What do we have here?

CUT. INT. Clint’s apartment –night. The door is unlocked and Clint Barton enters, carrying a bag of takeaway food and his bag. He throws the bag into a corner, puts the food down on the couch table, and goes to the fridge, getting himself a package of orange juice. Jumping over the couch for no real reason, he drops on it, stretching himself comfortably.

CLINT patting the couch Hey honey, I’m home.

He sits up, unpacking the Chinese takeaway. All the packages state "spicy". Taking chopsticks, Clint starts eating, reaches out for the remote control, and switches on the TV, switching to a news channel.

NEWS REPORTER Britain’s capital London has been shaken by a bomb attack, apparently committed by a new group of terrorists. We are presented with shocking pictures from the scene.

A burning warehouse is shown, debris and dust everywhere. Clint eats more slowly, watching the pictures in shock.

NEWS REPORTER cont’d The attack happened in a warehouse, just one block away from the most populated areas in London.

CUT. INT. warehouse –day. Natalia sneaks into the building, hiding from two workers, and plants the bomb, setting the timer to three minutes. She leaves without making a sound.

NEWS REPORTER cont’d A bomb was planted directly at essential construction points and the building was destroyed completely, damaging the neighboring buildings as well.

Natalia hurries down to the underground, getting into a train just when the bomb goes off nearby. She feels the slight shaking of the earth, acting surprised and shocked like everyone else. The train leaves off, taking her away from the crime scene.

NEWS REPORTER cont’d As for now, no unauthorized person was seen to enter or leave the building. Five people were killed in the attack, all of them workers in the affected building. London is in shock about this horrific incident which proves the brutality and mercilessness of the organization responsible for this deed.

CUT. video feed. A dark person in the shadows.

PERSON We, the Eclipse, have struck for the first time. Consider yourself warned, for we will strike again, and it won’t be as small as this time. We are total. We are the Eclipse.

The video freezes. CUT. INT. Fury’s office –afternoon. Fury has been watching the feed on the big screen, next to it several articles and news of the incident. Hill is standing next to him.

HILL Well, that solves the riddle, doesn’t it?
FURY discontent Unfortunately not. That’s ridiculous, there’s no way this was a real terrorist attack, especially not by these amateurs. He points at the screen Give the tech three seconds and they face-track this clown. If that’s their “Claiming responsibility”, how professional do you think their attacks would be?
HILL thoughtfully That’s true. I’m more confused about the actual attack, though. I mean… It sounds heartless to say that, but five victims… that’s not a lot. And considering they were just one street off a count of 50 or more victims… That doesn’t make any sense. Terrorists don’t warn, they make facts.
FURY I agree, almost like someone being hesitant to kill randomly while killing randomly. Which is why I think it wasn’t one of them who executed this attack, but rather someone from outside, someone who didn’t care about their cause, someone with a different initial profession maybe.
HILL A killer, then? Gun for hire?
FURY shrugging I know we tend to pin a lot of cases to the same individual these days, but in my view, it fits her. I can’t quite say why, but it’s her handwriting.
HILL I’m sorry, but I don’t think so. She’s an assassin, not a terrorist, that doesn’t make any sense.
FURY unnerved I know that, but the very thing about this woman is how nothing makes sense. The missions she takes or we presume have been taken by her don’t add up. One time it’s a businessman and only that businessman, the next time it’s random civilians. One time it’s the bad guys, the next time it’s children. There’s no pattern, usually, these killers on demand have an individual code, but it really seems like she cares one time and the other time she doesn't.
HILL I suppose in that case her individual code is money.

Fury is not content with the explanation, but he doesn’t have a better one. Thoughtfully, he stares at the screen.
CUT. INT. hideout –day. Natalia is led to the organization leader again, the same way she was before. The leader is not looking pleased, but she carries herself upright.

LEADER threateningly So that’s what you consider “maximum casualties”? Five people? Maximum?
NATALIA calmly Under the circumstances it was the maximum, indeed.
LEADER Do I have to repeat it? Five people! We wanted a symbol, a start for a threatening reputation, and you provide five deaths?
NATALIA I could explain my choices in as much detail as you want, but for now, I’ll simply say that the time and place you chose were everything but ideal for not getting caught.
LEADER not calming down Which means what?
NATALIA London is a city filled with cameras and police, especially on the date of a parade like this specific one. I needed a place close to the Underground with one leaving at the given time. It is agreed on in our contract that I will make decisions for my own safety.
LEADER Still, we asked for maximum casualties.
NATALIA And I provided you with that. You can’t ask for any number if you give me things like a specific time. There are a lot of things to consider in a position like mine.
Consolidating Apart from that, I think the attack makes for a good reputation. Psychologically, the number of casualties is secondary, it only matters that it’s civilians and it could have been anyone. The attack gave you the most flattering headlines, “Climate of insecurity”, “Demands for more safety”, “Great Britain in a state of fear” was another one I read. Being remembered, spreading fear, that was certainly achieved, don’t you think?

For a moment, the silence is almost too tense to bear. Then, the leader waves over a guy who hands him a small device. He types something, waving his minion away again. After a few seconds, Natalia’s phone vibrates. She takes it out. A message has been received, reading "Payment arrived. Return to the facility."
Natalia nods and smiles.

NATALIA I’m glad that’s settled.
LEADER grumpily For this time. For the next, I might employ someone else who isn’t as expensive. I’m afraid you’re not quite as good as your reputation.

Natalia is approached by the guy who led her in. He gestures her to follow him. She turns, smiling at the leader.

NATALIA I’m much more than my reputation.

[Black]
CUT. INT. airport of Moscow –day. Natalia, hair in a ponytail, dressed western and casual, walks through the airport.

ANNOUNCER V.O in Russian Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to Kairo. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding now. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes. Thank you.

Natalia walks up to the check-in, offering her ticket and an ID.

ASSISTANT in Russian Have a nice time in New York, Miss Sergejova.
NATALIA in Russian Thank you, I will.

She smiles, leaving the counter. Her phone beeps and she takes it out, subtly taking a look at it.
There’s a new message, containing a file and the word “Target”. Natalia opens the file, looking at the copy of a paper file and the picture of a middle-aged man. The man’s name is printed on: “Raymond McJohnson”. In the bottom right corner, there is a symbol stamped on the file, a grey circle with an eagle inside. It’s the logo of S.H.I.E.L.D.
[End credits]
[Fade out]

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

*screams in excitement*
You know what happens next chapter? You know who's gonna meet for the first time? Because I do and I cannot wait...
On the note of this chapter, I think it is absolutely unacceptable that I'm working on a meaningful scene with emotional impact and everything, and what do I remember from this chapter? Clint's stupid joke about the couch. Oh damn, he's gonna be in this so much more from now, it's gonna be so cool!!

ANYWAY, before I spoil everything, thank you all for reading xx :)

Chapter 10: S2/10: The Spy

Summary:

After a S.H.I.E.L.D informant has been murdered by the Black Widow, Director Nick Fury decides to send one of his best agents to take her down: Clint Barton, alias Hawkeye.

Music piece: “You give love a bad name” by Bon Jovi

Notes:

cannot believe we're already at this point :D

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The Spy

◄◄◄►►►

An arrow cut through the air, precisely piercing the target on the black line. Another one landed, only half an inch next to it, again directly on the line.
“Shot to the heart and you’re to blame…”
Two more arrows found their place on the target.
“Darling you give love a bad name!” Clint Barton finished the verse, followed by a loud vocalization of the tune. He fired two more arrows, then two from behind his back, finishing a circle exactly on the border between two sections of the target. Bull’s Eye was all nice and well, but he preferred practicing exactness this way. Not that he needed practice, really, he was S.H.I.E.L.D.’s best shooter and everybody, himself included, knew that.
Clint had become a tall young man of 22, almost 23. His boyish mob of hair had been replaced by a more stylish hairstyle, he was decidedly more buff and muscular and his bluish-grey eyes were as sparkly and piercing as they had ever been. In the last five years, he had turned from a grumpy newbie to an established S.H.I.E.L.D agent, confident and always ready to crack a joke or give a snarky remark.
He had settled in with S.H.I.E.L.D in the last five years, in the way he had never thought he could. He had dreaded following orders and being presented with jobs, but now that was all routine and he was comfortable enough.
He added a second ring of arrows to the target, every arrow exactly between two of the other ring.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
Clint added a final arrow to the dead center of the target before he turned around dynamically and took off his headphones.
“What’s up, Coulson?”
Special Agent Phil Coulson, Director Fury’s right hand, was exactly what you imagined a secret agent to look like, from his tailored suit to his square jawline and the ever-present ‘professional face’, as Clint would call it. Everyone who didn’t know him well would have said he was tough, no-nonsense, deeply serious business. Appearances can be misleading, would have been Clint’s dry comment to that.
Coulson handed him a file.
“You didn’t sign your report.”
“Oh, sorry bout that.” Clint added his big, slightly scrawly signature to the paper, grinning apologetically. “Just forgot, sorry you had to run after me.”
Coulson shrugged.
“It’s no problem, I wanted to catch you anyway. Director Fury has something for you.”
“Nice,” Clint commented, starting to collect his arrows and restoring them in his quiver for second usage. They were good arrows, not like the ones he’d carved himself all that time ago.
“What is it?” he asked. “Do you know?”
Coulson nodded but didn't share the news.
“It’s rather delicate, I’d say. Could be a bit of a challenge.”
Clint grinned.
“Sounds promising.”

◄◄◄►►►

A few minutes later, Clint entered Director Fury’s office, giving one of his lop-sided smiles that Fury always and consistently ignored. Maria Hill was sitting on one of the chairs, swiping around on a tablet. Clint sat down next to her.
“You’ve got a mission for me?”
Fury fixed his eye on him, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t be so enthusiastic about it, Barton, it won’t be a walk in the park, most likely.”
Clint shrugged.
“Is it ever? That’s our business, isn’t it?”
“This time a little more than usual,” Hill commented. Fury nodded affirmatively, shoving a file over the table.
“An assassination,” he said.
Clint flipped open the file and looked inside. The first thing he saw were countless ‘unknowns' on the front page, the identification number of the individual –no name –and a picture.
He took out the photograph –security camera, horrible resolution, caught in movement.
A young woman fired a gun, just half-turning towards them. Red hair, though that might be a color mistake of the footage, face hardly visible.
“Don’t we have a shot where I can actually see something?”
Fury scoffed.
“This picture is the first one we got in four years and this is all we got. You’ll better deal with it.”
“Well, sorry,” Clint muttered, adding aloud. “Who is she?”
“That,” Fury said, “is the person that killed a S.H.I.E.L.D informant Raymond McJohnson. He lived in a S.H.I.E.L.D secured house, perfectly safe, one should have thought. No alarms, no witnesses, no clues except this damned photo.”
Clint raised an eyebrow. He tapped onto the picture.
"She broke into a high-security home –one of our high-security homes –and she just killed someone and left no clues except this?”
Fury nodded.
“That’s what it looks like.”
“But that’s impossible.”
Hill, fixing her ponytail in that characteristic little gesture of hers, joined in again.
“Maybe it will look less impossible if you know who we think, who we are sure this person is. She is the Sao Paulo killer, the murderer of the diplomat’s daughter and possibly responsible for the bomb attack in London just a few months ago.”
Again, Clint took a look at the picture. He frowned.
“What was her name again?”
“Chernaya vdova,” Fury replied. “Black Widow.”
“The spider girl?” Clint nodded, remembering. “I heard of her. Always sounded like a ghost story to me, to be honest.”
“It’s far more than that,” Hill contradicted. “She’s real –and possibly the deadliest killer we’ve had in the last decade.”
Clint frowned. “How do you mean, deadliest? High amount of civil casualties?”
Hill shook her head. “No, it’s not that, most of the time she’s below average on that point, with a few very interesting exceptions. I meant deadliest as in she could possibly blow up a whole city and still get away with no trace. She’s good.”
Clint nodded.
“I know she has one hell of a reputation. It’s all true, then? No urban myth?”
Both of the others shook their heads. Clint nodded.
“Why now?” he asked then. “Why not earlier? If the rumors are true she’s been active for years, why are we only doing something about it now?”
Fury shrugged. "She has started interfering with our business, which turns her into a problem that we have a reason to solve. I’m not just sending someone after an assassin who’s just operating out of the US, that wouldn’t be our business. But since she’s here now, we have to act. She killed someone last time, but if someone sends her in for information she might do much more damage… as harsh as that may sound,” he added, seeing Clint’s slightly raised eyebrows. Clint never liked when human lives were degraded to mere ‘damage’, even though he knew that the reveal of confidential information would indirectly result in more death.
“So I take her down,” Clint summed up. He shifted his weight. “And where do I find her?”
It was Hill’s turn again.
“I was onto a few tracks after McJohnson’s death, all rumors basically. It was honestly more luck than skill that we got something. Apparently, some idiot whom we don’t know yet has gotten his hands on some really valuable plans and wants to get money out of it. Of course, the price is high, and some people don’t want to pay for it. Someone hired our lady to… persuade him to hand the stuff over.”
Clint nodded again, understanding.
“Do we need those plans, too?” he asked, but Fury shook his head.
“No, the plans aren’t of any interest to us. We want the woman dead, that’s all.”
“Where’s the exchange?”
“A party in central Atlanta. Anniversary… it’s in the file.”
Clint grinned. “Is that why you chose me? Because I know the city?”
“It might come in handy,” Fury replied, completely serious. “Mainly, you were chosen because your profile fits the mission at hand. I can’t have a regular sniper, nor can I send a martial artist, not with the reputation she has for that.”
Fury needed an all-rounder, then, someone with a talent for shooting, but who could also act. Two characteristics that Clint combined, there was a reason why his codename at S.H.I.E.L.D was ‘Hawkeye’, his knack for observation and his precise aim would have made him a good sniper, but it would have bored him to death, acting and pretending, interacting with people was the thing that made being a spy fun.
“You are a fitting choice,” Fury continued. “Which doesn’t mean that the mission isn’t dangerous. If you want to screw up a shot, this mission is not the best one for that. She won’t likely give you a second chance.”
Clint shifted uncomfortably. Ted talks like that weren’t the rule which meant that Fury was serious, the mission was high risk, more than his usual ones. Not that he minded that much, he’d had high-risk missions before, that was just the job. And if that meant he could rid the world of a menace it would be worth it.

◄◄◄►►►
[Intro]
◄◄◄►►►

Clint returned to his apartment complex a few hours later, made himself potatoes and scrambled eggs, and sat down on his couch with the file.
Highlighting things or making lists had never been his thing, it always had a school feel to it, but he did read the files about his targets thoroughly and carefully. At the beginning of his training, Coulson had had him sum up the whole things to teach him that he had to know these kinds of things. Accordingly, Clint began reading, starting with a frustratingly imprecise personal section.
Name, nationality, age, affiliation, none of that was known. Her code name ‘Black Widow’ had first come up in its Russian translation but she was also known under the same name in French, Spanish, English, and German. Her missions were another matter. Hill had created a map with all the missions ascribed to her, color-coded per year.
Her first kill, according to the file, had taken place in Moscow, Russia, though of course there was no way to know if there wasn't one before that. Overall, there were quite a few missions in Russia, but most of the missions had taken place in central and Eastern Europe, then a few singular ones in Asia, South America, and Africa, a single one in Australia, and only a handful in North America; San Francisco, New York, Denver, Toronto, and Miami. All of the missions in the US had been recent, mainly from this year. Apparently, someone was expanding their range.
Clint put the map aside and turned back to the written part. Hill had composed the file for him, she had been studying the ongoings for years. He always liked it when she did his files, she had a precise way of putting things and knew that he hated getting too much useless info, so she had only given him a detailed description of a handful of missions –"Exemplary ones, as far as there are any" and summed up the rest briefly.
The missions that she had thought important enough for him to read were the following:

1. Stepanovitch murder case (2001) –First known encounter
2. Matongo case (2003) –Underage victims, fixing of failed attempt
3. Sao Paulo case (2004) –encounter with authorities
4. Hospital arson case (2004) –civil casualties, murder of client
5. McJohnson murder case (2005) –skill level

Clint got up to get himself some ice cream for dessert. This would be a lot to go through.
Two hours later he was finished with the studying of the file, his head hurt and he wholeheartedly agreed with Hill that the Black Widow didn’t make any sense.
The missions he had just read about were horrible, while he didn't care much about Stepanovitch and –to be honest also not about McJohnson, they were grown-up businessmen, and murdering them wasn't outstandingly horrific, it was people like them he got as targets, too, it depended on the side you were on. The Sao Paulo case –which Hill had included because it featured an impossible escape from a whole police battalion without a scratch –that one had civil casualties, but had not stood out in its cruelty, it was the kind of thing that happened, even amongst S.H.I.E.L.D when you sent the wrong agent. It was the other two missions that made Clint think of the word ‘monster’. Murdering two eight-year-olds who had not seen anything after the first attempt failed… let alone set a hospital on fire, presumably to kill one man… how could someone even look into a mirror after doing such a thing?
True, there was the black spot of why the guy behind the hospital fire had been killed, shot six times for no reason, in fact, but there was certainly an explanation for that. Hill had also said that security personnel was surprisingly often knocked on the head from behind rather than killed and that the number of missions with civilians dying was greatly outnumbered by the missions with no civil casualties at all, but still, children. No one with any sense of moral killed children or burnt hospitals. How driven by money could you possibly be to abandon all compassion and humanity like that?
No, the Black Widow had to be stopped. And he would be the one to do it.

◄◄◄►►►

While Clint Barton was reading the files about the Black Widow’s crimes, the Black Widow herself returned to the Red Room Facility, to the only place she could call home. Subdued, shoulders hunched protectively, she entered the building, softly closing the door behind her.

◄◄◄►►►

“Have we been bad again?”
Natalia faced Master Petrovitch, eyes calmly fixed on him. Yes, she had been bad, she had not killed a child, again, and she had known she would be punished for it. It had almost turned into a sort of routine, she didn’t even really fight with herself over it anymore, she’d just not kill the child, take the punishment, apologize and do it again next time. She had been told to increase the number of pills she was taking which merely meant throwing away five instead of three, so that was alright. She had been so scared of doing things wrong for a long time, so eager to please, but the guilt that should be there wasn’t there, she had become strangely numb towards it, most of the time. Of course not about everything, she did her missions correctly most of the time and she was respectful and hard-working as always.
Petrovitch had gotten himself a new tool, a wooden cane, something like a baseball bat. Natalia preferred it to his whip, but it was painful nevertheless.
Standing perfectly still like a statue, Natalia told herself not to think about whether it had been worth it, the hit that made the pain radiate through her upper arm, then another at the exact same spot.
He walked around her, placing two more hits symmetrically on her other arm, then two more on each side. Her arm must be flat like a stamp by now, though it didn’t look like it…
Natalia didn’t move. In punishments, she wasn’t obliged to stay still, but she did, taking a certain malicious pleasure in depriving Petrovitch of what he enjoyed. This way, at least none of them had fun. She felt a bit guilty for that act of defiance, but not guilty enough to stop.
“Stop.” Madame B’s voice was sharp and cold. Both turned to her. Natalia changed her manner to be more subdued. Madame B was discontent with her, she seemed to be all the time lately, even when the mission was perfectly executed, including all witnesses killed, no additional strolls around town, nothing to be mad about. There had been too many missions where things had been done wrong.
“She has to be on another mission tomorrow night,” Madame B said to Petrovitch. “I can’t have anything too obvious on her.”
She turned to Natalia. “Until you get back, you don’t eat, do you understand?”
Natalia nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She’d be back the day after tomorrow at noon. Her body would be functional for that period of time, but it wouldn’t be nice to go through. It was only fair, this was her punishment for a mistake. Payment.
After being dismissed, she walked to her room, ready to pack her things for the mission. Quiet, hushed voices gave away the presence of the girls, on their way to the dorm.
Ekaterina smiled at her when she saw her, and Szofia even waved.
Natalia nodded at them, a silent ‘hello and goodbye’ that they understood all too well. She slipped into her room, quickly picking a dress for the event she’d be going to tomorrow, then a cropped top for the flight.
She could have used a bit of sleep, but she didn’t have enough time for that. At least relaxing should be possible on the flight, she wasn’t supposed to sleep there, it was the outside world after all.
Routinely, Natalia started getting ready to leave again. She applied a bit of subtle make-up, Madame B said she had to always because her cheekbones were too prominent, also she had shadows under her eyes. She painted her nails, reminding herself that she wasn’t allowed to chip the polish off right away, she sometimes did that after the missions, it calmed her in a way. As always, she covered her branding, her mark of affiliation. By now, she had understood that it wasn’t as much the meaning of the symbol that would drive people’s attention, but rather the fact that it wasn’t a regular tattoo. Once or twice it had been noticed and she had explained it had been a stupid challenge with friends, a drunk test of courage, that sort of thing. On a flight, however, it wouldn’t be possible to explain it, it would be an unusual thing that might stay in people’s minds.
Next, she dealt with her shoulders. There’d be heavy bruises in just a few hours and she covered the places with foundation in advance so it wouldn’t be visible.
How often had she done this already?
Surprisingly, as she thought of it, she found she hadn’t really lost track of her missions. Sure, there was a big void between 2003 and 2004, it was hard to remember missions from that time, but the rest she would have been easily able to recite in the right order if she had tried. There were so many of them…
Natalia sighed, zipping her backpack shut. This would be another one. Just another mission to add to the pile. Just another mission to get to, finish and come home from.
She got up, straightening herself, joints cracking.
It was a completely standard mission. She wouldn’t have to disappoint on this one.

◄◄◄►►►

Clint hated ties. Like, bowties were worse, but ties were still pretty bad. The one he had chosen for tonight at least had a nice color, a bluish-grey that matched his eyes perfectly. He tied it, fiddling around a little as always, and fastened a delicate silver tie clip on it. It was the only tie clip he owned, a present of a girlfriend that had known he liked archery, but not that he hated ties. Hadn’t lasted very long with her, it usually didn’t, but he liked the pin.
He ran his fingers through his blond hair, adding hopefully enough gel to keep it in order for the night, tucked at his shirt, and put on his shoes.
He took his packed bag, he’d leave that in the car and his bow, his foldable one that he usually took to missions like this. It was stored in a small suitcase, perfect for businessmen, and even had real papers and folders in the upper half so he could open it when asked.
Today, that once again proved to be extremely handy since at the location he was asked by a polite security woman to show the contents before he could store it in a locker nearby. So either his target had a similar concealing technique, he thought, or she would have to go without weapons…

◄◄◄►►►

Confidently, Natalia strode into the lobby of the event hall, routinely noting down entrances, corridors, and windows and acting like her black backpack wasn't uncommon at all.
One of the staff members came over, politely asking if she might take a quick look, they were on high alert, because of all the recent terror attacks and they were obliged to check bigger bags, hopefully it wasn’t inconvenient.
Natalia opened her backpack, allowing a quick check that there was no bomb inside, but just clothing and other necessities, explained she was just here for the anniversary, would travel back tonight already, if there was a locker to store it, perhaps?
She was shown to the lockers, next to the toilets, perfect. When the staff member left, she re-stored her gun that she’d been holding between the rucksack and her body in the backpack and went to the toilets to change into her dress, re-touch her make-up, covering the branding on her wrist and her bruised shoulders again, wishing there wasn’t an event to go to.
Getting her target to hand over the plans, both of them in a dark room, that sounded alright. It would be a quiet, smooth affair, no other people, not a lot of acting. But no, the exchange had to be in this public location, he’d wanted to meet here because he ‘had obligations’ on the event itself and Madame B had told her to meet his demand.
Natalia didn’t know why she had insisted, but she had already screwed up the previous mission when discussing the conditions for this one and she had the slight suspicion that the sole reason Madame B wanted her to be at the party was that there’d be food, food she would not be allowed to touch.
She brushed her hair quickly, looking at a perfect stranger in the mirror, a red-haired woman in a green dress, confident, put-together, perfectly normal.
And she hadn’t even started acting yet. But apparently, it only took a bit of make-up was enough to erase everything about her like she didn’t exist at all.

◄◄◄►►►

Pulling at his tie a little, Clint entered the room of the main event. He was what one would call a party natural, this was a very relaxed environment for him to be in, lots of room for observing, no real playing required. He didn’t have a hard time pretending to enjoy himself, settling near the buffet with the appetizers and casually looking around to spot a strand of red hair, if possible. The picture he had of her wasn’t good, if she had dyed her hair for this mission it might be hard to be sure whether it was actually her. It would be so much easier if he knew who her contact was… Hold on.
Clint fixed his eyes on the person who just entered the room in a quiet, assertive manner. It was a young woman with red hair that was looking even richer against the muted apple green of her dress. Right away, Clint saw several pairs of eyes drawn towards the dainty figure. Seemingly unaware of the effect of her entrance, she crossed the room casually, a silent grace accompanying her every step.
Clint was honestly stunned. He’d seen a picture of her, but he had still imagined her differently, cold ice-blue eyes perhaps, an angular, sharp sort of beauty, the classic cold businesswoman cliché. Which was something the young woman nearby could hardly be described as. First of all, how old was she? Even with very mature make-up and clothes, which, as Clint well knew, usually made you seem older, even when he didn’t take that away she didn’t look older than him. Maybe it was the daintiness –the next stark contrast to his pre-made image of her –but she seemed uncannily young.
After a while, she strolled closer, to the buffet, but she didn’t take anything. In the process, she took a place at the table opposite of him, giving him the perfect opportunity to give her a closer look.
She knew how to make an entrance, that was for sure, but she was an eye-catcher even just standing there. Admittedly, Clint would have named everyone except this small pale thing the deadliest assassin of the world, but that was possibly her biggest strength, being underestimated even in spite of her reputation.
She was strikingly beautiful, in a more interesting than classic way. She wasn’t his type, but he could see why she would be a lot of people’s –and surely she would manage to represent exactly what each of her targets longed for –before they were killed.
There was a distant look on her face, like she was thinking of something else, but not dreamily. There was nothing romantic about it, and it took Clint a while to figure out what about that look creeped him out so much.
Suddenly he saw himself in the mirror, putting on make-up for a show, useless make-up since he was wearing a mask anyway –and he had stared into the mirror with the exact same expression that he now saw on her face. Not angry, not defiant. Indefinite, tired, lost. An apathetic sort of sadness that acknowledged the unhappiness and accepted it.
In that second, Clint Barton simply knew that the killer he was here to kill was trapped. Trapped, unhappy, and resigned.
The look didn’t last a second longer than he needed to come to that realization, then the woman changed into her cover like into a set of clothes, suddenly enjoying the party, positively, but not over the top excited, aware not beyond any normal civilian.
The change was so sudden that Clint wasn’t sure if he had even seen the other emotion on her face. But why would he make something like that up? He was here to kill this woman, and it was a justified kill. He had read the reports on her, these horrible reports telling the story of a murderer, a monster without any moral code, not even beyond killing children. He should be proud to put an end to that. If anyone didn’t deserve compassion or mercy, it was this woman.
He wouldn’t miss his target.
Still, Clint didn’t feel content about just watching her. If this was the famous Black Widow, the best assassin there was, then she better be good in other regards, too.
What would she do if a civilian interfered with her mission, forcing her to either be rude or engage in the party? Was she really as good of an actor as she was a killer?
Clint knew that he didn’t have to test her. He didn’t have to test if she was good, she had proved that before. It was curiosity that made him want to, and he was well aware of that, but awareness of his motives never kept Clint Barton from following them anyway.
As the woman left the table after a while and walked past him he made a little step back, ‘accidentally’ bumping into her.
“I’m sorry.” A soft voice, fitting the delicate frame much more than the reputation she had.
Clint turned, standing eye to eye with the Black Widow, or well, almost eye to eye because she was quite a bit smaller than him.
“Oh, no, that was totally my fault!” he protested with a big smile. “Hope my massive ass didn’t hurt you?”
Jovial, open, a bit flirty. Apparently, that was his cover.
A slight shake of the head and a carefully measured smile made pretty clear that her cover was more on the distant side.
“No, not at all, it’s no problem.”
She lingered a second too long and Clint extended his hand to her.
“The clumsy man’s name is Carter.” He grinned amiably. “Carter Bennington. Nice to meet you.”
She broadened her smile and took his hand, firmly shaking it.
“Nice to meet you, too. I’m Mary Lancaster.”
Mary? Clint raised an internal eyebrow. That is literally the least fitting name I could think of for you.
Her English was perfect, though, not a hint of a foreign accent, no specific American accent as well, impossible to pinpoint where ‘Mary’ came from. Her smile was natural, too, only her hands broke the perfect illusion. Her fingertips were ice-cold and he could feel the hints of hard physical work in the hard skin of her palms and fingers.
Let’s play a game then, okay, Miss Lancaster?
“Lancaster? Sounds like British novelty…”
She gave a little laugh and the hint of a bow. “I have to disappoint you, I’m but a mere commoner.”
He laughed at her little game. She was pretty good, all of this was perfectly natural.
“And are you here unaccompanied, Miss Lancaster?” he asked with a lop-sided smile.
She raised her eyebrow, apparently amused. “Why would you want to know, Mr. Bennington?”
He shrugged. “I just don’t want some angry boyfriend to chase me with a knife if I ask the lady for a dance.”
Challenge accepted. She chuckled flirtatiously.
“I’ve had worse pick-up lines than that. Yes, I am on my own.”
He acted overly relieved, making her laugh again.
“Good luck for me… So then, may I have the next dance, my lady?”
‘Mary’ took his offered hand, looking at him through her lashes.
“I would love to.”
He guided her to the dancefloor, feeling how her body took up the rhythm of the music immediately, someone who was used to dancing and honestly enjoyed it.
Clint was an alright dancer, but her sheer easiness and elegance made him feel like he had three feet. She held eye contact, her eyes were dark green like a forest and there was a surprising warmth to them, that and a hint of that sadness that he had thought to see earlier.

◄◄◄►►►

Bennington turned Natalia around, took her hand again, and smiled a lop-sided, charming smile.
Natalia returned it, following his lead easily. His flirting was subtle, almost pleasant, exactly Mary’s type, for sure. Natalia had no illusions, though. There was nothing to prove it, but she didn’t doubt for a moment that Mr. Carter Bennington wasn’t this man’s real name, neither was his character. She didn’t know what he was here for, but he certainly had a different motive than hooking up with Mary Lancaster. Maybe their mission was the same. That had happened once before and had been most unpleasant, she’d had to kill the other one in self-defense. Hopefully, that wasn't it.
Maybe, hopefully, she was wrong about it after all. Maybe he was really just here for dancing and enjoying himself and hoped she’d do it with him. Maybe this would be their first and last encounter and he would not be dead afterward.
Natalia was hungry. The buffet nearby with its delicious smell was practically torture for her. Supposedly she could take something and they wouldn’t know, but she would feel bad about it.
As often before, the problem was that she wasn’t her cover. Mary Lancaster would enjoy this, wouldn’t care about food if she were hungry, would be dancing carefreely without searching for or having any ulterior motive.
She was so… so tired of this all.
Following Bennington’s movement effortlessly, the thought that this would be her future, just this, for years and years until a mistake that killed her or when she was too old to do this and they would kill her… she could have screamed. Could you really do this for an indefinite amount of time? Did anyone choose this kind of life? Had Bennington chosen it? Was he alright with what he did?
She was so tired.
She was glad he didn’t speak, silently they had agreed on just dancing for now. She couldn’t do this for much longer, though, there wouldn’t be a justification for being distracted any longer and they would once again claim she had only lingered because he was handsome even though that was ridiculous.
She had seen her target already, he was a horrible actor, his anxious waiting was extremely obvious.
She had to finish the mission now.
She had to get rid of Bennington –or whatever his real name was.

◄◄◄►►►

Clint had no idea why he didn’t talk. It wasn’t a matter of constitution or coordination, he could perfectly dance and talk at the same time.
She was an incredible dancer, and she seemed more tranquil and relaxed while doing so, and again it seemed impossible that she’d run around killing people. Not that he really doubted it, but there was something beneath the surface that made him decidedly uncomfortable.
The song faded and they both hesitated.
“Another one?” he asked, smiling.
Miss Lancaster shrugged.
“I wouldn’t mind a drink first, to be honest.”
He grinned, leading her off the dancefloor. “That’s alright, too.”
“Will you get something for us?” she asked nonchalantly, no reason for an outsider to guess that she had an ulterior motive about this, him getting the drinks probably meant she would slip away.
Clint twisted his mouth in his mind, knowing he couldn’t politely refuse.
“Sure. What would you like?”
“Uhm,” she thought about it. “Champagne, I’d say.”
“I’ll get it right away, my lady.”
She laughed. “I could get used to that addressing.”
Clint went over to the bar, turning a few times and winking at her, secretly keeping an eye on her. Unfortunately, the bar was not ideal for doing that, he couldn’t watch her without her noticing. Accepting his temporary defeat, he ordered the drinks.

◄◄◄►►►

“Meet me outside this room, in seven minutes,” Natalia said quietly, brushing shoulders with her target as she walked past him. She could clearly feel a reaction and knew she had been understood. That was step one, now Bennington.
“Excuse me?” she asked a man that was randomly standing there. He turned.
“Yes?”
Seemingly embarrassed, Natalia bit her lip.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s this guy… the blond one at the bar… he’s being flirty, and I… I’m uncomfortable, you know? I don’t want to be rude, so if you could… help me out, perhaps, when he comes back?”
Seeing she got the compassion she wanted, she smiled shyly.
“If you came over and spilled your drink over my dress, that would allow me to slip out to change… That would be so nice of you.”
The man smiled, clearly flattered by being asked to be the knight for the damsel in distress.
“Of course, that should be alright. I’ll come over as soon as he’s back from the bar.”
“Thank you so much,” Natalia said, rewarding him with another smile, acting incredibly relieved.
When Bennington returned, she was standing at the place he had left her, smiling flirtatiously.
“Thank you.”
Why was she still here?, Clint wondered, confused, after he had offered her one glass and she’d taken it. This would have been the perfect opportunity to slip away and get her mission done, why had she stayed? Not only that but there wasn't even a hint of caution in her manner when she drank the champagne as if she wasn't worried about poisoning at all. Apparently, she hadn't figured out he wasn't what he seemed.
She played flawlessly, though, he had to give her that. If he hadn’t known who she was, he would not have guessed.
“Do you enjoy the party?” he asked, drinking too.
She smiled. “I’m in good company.”
They clinked glasses and he laughed; when suddenly someone tripped next to them and spilled his drink all over her dress. She gave a little sound of surprise, while the culprit, a man of no special features, started apologizing to her frantically.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Miss, I’m so clumsy sometimes… I really didn’t…”
“That’s quite alright,” she said calmingly, smiling. “Things like that can happen, it’s no big deal, really.”
Murmuring another apology, the man left.
“Are you okay?” Clint asked, touching her shoulder slightly like the flirt he played would do. Just a tiny contraction, little more than nothing. Still, a muscle had moved, she had flinched from his touch ever so slightly. It might be a general aversion… or she had guessed he was up to no good.
She laughed, a melodious, carefree laugh.
“Well, it’s inconvenient, but it didn’t kill me. I’ll better clean up this mess.” She gestured at her wet dress. “I’ll meet you back here, okay?”
She left easily, and Clint considered what to do next. Leaving this place wouldn't really work, Carter Bennington wouldn't leave for his life, and breaking his cover would draw her attention. If she was good, she’d check if he was still here even if she was just going for her target next time. He’d have to wait then. He watched people wander about, drink, eat and converse, saw a man leave, then an old lady, then a middle-aged gentleman… How long would she realistically take to clean her dress? Three minutes? Those were over. Probably a little longer, though.
Against the instinct of his cover, but rather for the instinct of himself, of Hawkeye, he strolled to the door. He might have gone looking for her, that was alright.
One look out of the door told him all he needed to know. He had really been outsmarted on this one.
Casually, the gentleman that had just left the room stepped up to a small red-haired figure leaning against a column nearby. Hell. She must have arranged for this while he had ordered the drinks.
Fuck.
Managing to stay out of their sight, Clint hurried to his locker, changing from Carter Bennington to Hawkeye within 30 seconds. The familiar feel of his bow between his fingers made him smile grimly before he followed the faint red shimmer into the insides of the building.
Behold, Miss Lancaster, he thought, I’ll come and get you.

◄◄◄►►►
[End Credits]
◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

*suspense rising*
And so we meet Clint as Hawkeye, just in time for the series coming out :D
Also I realized upon re-reading I seemed to have a cliffhanger phase around this time, so sorry for that XD

Very excited for the rest of the night, gotta say. Any guesses on how shit will go down between the two?

Thank you for all your kind comments and do have a nice week <3 xx

Chapter 11: S2/11: The Assassin

Summary:

Clint Barton is determined to finish his mission after he's read the report on the Black Widow. But instead of an ice-cold murderer, he faces Natalia, tired and unhappy. It might not be her he'll have to fight...

Music piece: “Monster” from the Frozen Broadway Musical, lyrics slightly changed.

Notes:

I know this song makes the whole thing seem a little like a musical, though all the singing is V.O. I just love this song, it fits the struggle perfectly and it’s my fic and I make the rules ;)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The Assassin

◄◄◄►►►

[Fade in]
INT. basement –night. Natalia and her target are approaching a door at the end of the corridor. He looks rather timid.

GENTLEMAN nervously Well, that will surely be very private…
NATALIA We’re doing important business, it better be.

She opens the door for him, letting him into a small storing room. He steps in, looking around in the small dusty window that leads out to the street. Natalia softly closes the door and locks it. Her cover falls, she’s the assassin and not the businesswoman now.

NATALIA threateningly Now, let’s get to the real business.

CUT. INT. basement –night. Clint Barton is walking down the hallway rather cautiously. He has his bow drawn, on his guard despite the apparent calm atmosphere.
Turning around the corner, the scene changes. Right away Clint’s eyes are drawn to the three security guards on the floor, cleanly knocked out. He shakes his head, bowing down briefly to check their pulse.

CLINT V.O Damn, that was some quick work… Alive, though…

He rises again, following his target further down into the cellar. Pressed against the wall, he peeks around the corner, peaking into the corridor with the room at the end. Clint creeps closer, steps light. He presses himself against the wall next to the door, listening carefully.
On the other side of the door, positions have changed. The gentleman is seated on a chair, clearly intimidated. His cheek is flaming red from where Natalia has slapped him. She towers over him, looking frightening.

NATALIA Give me the drive.

He hesitates but flinches when she raises her hand again.

NATALIA Hand it over.
GENTLEMAN gulping Over my dead body.

Natalia pulls a gun and points it at his head. He backs off, alarmed.

NATALIA You can have that.
GENTLEMAN panicked No, no, wait! My breast pocket, in my left one!

Not taking her gun down, Natalia reaches out and takes a flash drive from his pocket, storing it in her own. Her target is clearly –and understandably –scared to death. He gulps again.

GENTLEMAN voice breaking Okay… I suppose that’s the deal then? You have what you want…
NATALIA seriously without mocking him You’re an eyewitness. That means I will have to kill you.

She cocks the gun. He utters a whimper.

GENTLEMAN No, please… You can let me go, I won’t go to the police… We’re both criminals, I couldn’t give you away…
NATALIA tiredly Look, I don’t make the rules. I’ll make it quick.

She turns a little, frowning. She senses that she’s being overheard.

GENTLEMAN Please… I have a wife… and children… They need me, please, you must understand…
NATALIA First of all, that’s a lie. You don’t have a wife, you have a husband and you don’t have children either. Secondly, bringing up one’s family is very dangerous, especially with someone who doesn’t have one and could never have one. That’s just not how this business works.

None of it sounded threatening, it was more like an unplanned confession. Natalia frowned, surprised by her own behavior. Suddenly, she starts, turning back to the door. There is scratching in the lock. With two steps, she is by the door, listening closely. On the other side, Clint is carefully trying to unlock the door. Their heads are almost on one level, if not for the door, they would be touching each other.
Natalia’s target moves, she spins around, having the gun on him again.

NATALIA V.O So I was right… Bennington… But he’s not after the drive… He could have had that easier… After me, then… I suppose I should kill both. Or I finish this off and get away. Would that count as weakness? It’s the safe way…

She turns her head to the door again, suddenly hesitant and unsure. Slowly, she lowers her gun.

NATALIA V.O What if that’s it? What if he’s supposed to get me?

[“Monster” starts playing.]

It's finally come, come to knock down my door
I can't hide this time like I hid before

Natalia lifts up her gun again, ready to eliminate her target. He is begging, but she doesn’t hear him.

The storm is awake, the danger is real
My time's running out,

Looking at her target, she hesitates again. Faintly, a child cries in her mind.

don't feel, don't feel
"Mercy is your enemy
And death its consequence"
That's what they once said to me
And it's starting to make sense
All this pain, all this fear began because of me
Is the thing they made me the thing I have to be?

She lowers the gun again, looking at it.

A monster, were they right?
Has the dark in me finally killed the light?
Am I a monster full of rage
Nowhere to go but on a rampage?
Or am I just a monster in a cage?

Outside, Clint has opened the lock. Bow ready, he wants to kick it open, when a shot makes him start.

[Choir] End this mission, show no mercy
Keep your guard up

CLINT Fuck!

He kicks the door open, hiding from a shot, but nothing happens. Peaking in, he sees the target sitting on the chair, frozen in shock. The window has been shot, Natalia is gone.

Damn, let’s catch that girl!

He climbs out of the window as well, faintly seeing Natalia disappear around a corner. He runs after her.

[Choir] End this mission, show no mercy
Keep your guard up

CUT. EXT. Natalia is running through the streets, the gun still in her hand.

What do I do?
No time for crying now
I've started the fight, gotta stop it somehow

CUT. Clint is following her, always staying on her track.
Natalia is slowing down, panting. Her face is pained.

Do I keep on running?
How far do I have to go?
And will that end the killing spree
Or only make it grow?
I'm making my world darker
How long can it survive?
Cos everyone’s in danger as long as I'm alive
Was I a monster from the start?
How did I end up with this hardened heart?
Bringing destruction to the stage
Caught in a war that I never meant to wage
Do I kill the monster?

Natalia slows down, looking down at her gun. Clearly, she isn’t sure what to do anymore.

I just, don’t know what I should be…
If I die, will they be free?

MASHA V.O If you died in action, nobody would be sad to see you go.

Tell me, would you want me to run?
With my sins unatoned and the killing going on?

With a newly found determination, Natalia starts running again. Behind her, she can hear Clint’s steps.

No!
I have to stop this now and fix what I've done
Save the world from myself
And lay down my gun

Natalia approaches a staircase. Clint is accelerating, too, drawing an arrow from his quiver.

If I'm a monster and it's true
There's only one thing that's left for me to do
But before I fade to white
I will give him a chance to make things right

EXT. Natalia runs up the stairs, breathing hastily. The music’s rhythm correlates with her steps.

I cannot be a monster

She spins around, stopping at the top of the staircase.

NATALIA I will not be a monster (I will not be a monster)

She looks at her gun and locks it.
CUT. Clint runs towards a corner. CUT.

NATALIA Not tonight. (Not tonight)

CUT. Clint runs around the corner, sees Natalia, and pulls the arrow onto his string (slow-motion). Natalia throws her gun down the stairs, Clint fires. The arrow hits Natalia’s flank [Music stops] she tumbles and collapses with a sound of pain. The gun lands in front of Clint’s feet. In complete shock, he stares down at it.

CLINT Oh shit.

He picks up the gun and climbs the stairs quickly. Natalia forces herself onto her feet and takes a defensive stand, looking determined. Clint stops, calmingly lifting up his hands.

CLINT calmingly Okay. Let’s be easy on this, okay? I don’t come closer and you don’t jump at my throat, alright?

Natalia stares at him motionlessly; her knuckles are white from strain. Suddenly she lowers her eyes and slowly puts her hands down. Clint breathes out and leans against the rail, putting his bow over one shoulder. Natalia carefully sits down, placing her fingers around the arrow to stabilize it. Finally, she looks at him again.

NATALIA You meant to miss.
CLINT No, I didn- pausing okay, subconsciously perhaps. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you.
NATALIA Don’t bother. It’s fine.
CLINT crossing his arms You’ve got an arrow stuck in your body. Now don’t tell me that doesn’t hurt.
NATALIA shrugging Doesn’t matter. I’m used to it. One wound, one scar, one person more to hurt me, it makes no difference.

Clint shakes his head in disbelief. Natalia frowns.

NATALIA What?
CLINT I don’t know? Maybe I’m a bit surprised that the infamous Black Widow hasn’t killed me yet? Maybe I’m a bit surprised that a person of your skill could get hurt a lot.
NATALIA I don’t think it has to do with practical skill. I have to take the consequences of my actions, no matter if I think they’re justified.
CLINT Well, I’m sorry I didn’t expect you to surrender to me…
NATALIA tiredly That’s not what I meant, you are perfectly justified to do whatever you want to me, I really don’t care anymore.

This whole conversation is going differently than Clint expected. He frowns.

CLINT I suppose I should be glad about that… But is that really it? You’re not going to fight for yourself, no defense, not even the tiniest bit of self-respect?

Natalia thinks about it for a moment.

NATALIA No, I don’t think I have respect for myself. I don’t think it would be appropriate either… I won’t fight you.

Clint remains silent, unsure what to say. Natalia seems surprised at what she’s said. Then her face gets expressionless again.

NATALIA What are you waiting for? Want your arrow back?
CLINT What?
NATALIA For a second shot? Better don’t waste another one on me.

She gets ready to pull the arrow out of her wound. Quickly, more blood is staining her shirt.

CLINT reaching out Hey, wait!

Natalia startles, hesitates, and looks up. Clint puts his hands down.

CLINT softly Leave it, or you’ll bleed out.
NATALIA frowning Why again would you care? It would just save you the work.

Clint sits down, puts his bow down, and pulls out Natalia’s gun.

CLINT This gun doesn’t belong to me. I would like to know why no bullet hit me when I came around the corner. You had a clear shot.
NATALIA Delaying my date of death? I’ve already not killed a person I should have killed, it makes no difference if I let you live or not.
CLINT scoffs Our opinions differ about that.
NATALIA Whatever. You are not here for talking. Finish your mission, with your bow or with my gun, just do it.
CLINT So you want me to kill you?
NATALIA mockingly One could get killed faster asking some 90-year old with a walking stick than waiting for you.
CLINT You didn’t answer my question. Do you want to die?
NATALIA I don’t see why my will would change a thing. But honestly, I don’t really care. My life is worth no more than the reward you’ll get.
CLINT I won’t get a reward. I’m not some bow-for-hire.
NATALIA I see. Personal then. I killed one of yours. Softly I know it doesn’t change anything but had it been for me to decide, I would not have done it.
CLINT It was for you to decide. You are the killer.
NATALIA I had orders.
CLINT That you could have disobeyed. But you are wrong. It’s not personal. I work for an organization, get a regular wage, whether I kill you or not. I get to decide myself.

Natalia raises an eyebrow. She doesn’t believe it but decides to go with it anyway.

NATALIA And you have decided, obviously, to take this mission. So why don’t you finish it?
CLINT I want to understand about you.
NATALIA I’m not made to be understood, Bennington, I…
CLINT Barton. My name is Barton.
NATALIA Barton then. I don’t see what to understand. Spy, assassin, your job. Where’s the difficulty?
CLINT That this is not what I signed up for. I was sent to kill a heartless psycho, a monster, and not some 18-year-old who spares her target and won’t fight me. I want to know why.
NATALIA I don’t know. All I know is you’ve found your monster all the same. What does it matter if I spared that one person? So many have died.
CLINT crossing his arms Yes, civilians, innocents, damn, even children! You set a frickin’ hospital on fire! And now you spared a man just like that. What are you?
NATALIA I’m the Churneyvdava. The Black Widow. Created to kill, without a way out till the day I die.
CLINT You really want me to kill you, don’t you?

Natalia lowers her head, looking exhausted and weary. She lets her hands sink into her lap, leaning against the balustrade a little bit. Clint tilts his head.

CLINT very softly Why?
NATALIA laughing bitterly Why does it matter? It makes no difference what my reasons are or what I think. More softly I would have fought you at some point, but now… there’s that point when you forget how often you have been beaten down. It’s not about self-preservation, it’s out of habit because it’s what you’ve always done. Whispering It’s time to break old habits.

For a moment, Clint is silent.

CLINT unbelieving, but almost gentle Your habit is not dying?
NATALIA laughing sadly Yes, that’s it. Almost inaudibly And I’m so tired of it, Barton. What use in standing and fighting if you have nothing worth fighting for? I’ve ducked away so long, I will not run and hide from my fate anymore. There is only one option: Dying. ironically Even though I will possibly die a natural death before you get around to doing it.
CLINT You really think that makes it any easier for me?
NATALIA looking up Now I don’t understand about you. This is not your first mission, no one would be so stupid as to send a beginner after me. Why the humanity issues? For me, of all people. You killed better ones, I’m sure.
CLINT I killed bad people, really bad ones. And I thought you were one of them. But I’m not so sure now. And I won’t kill you if you don’t deserve it.
NATALIA laughing bitterly Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t make a difference.
CLINT It makes a difference. Every life makes a difference.

Natalia looks at him, surprised. For a moment there’s hope in her face, but then she looks away sadly, shaking her head.

NATALIA more to herself It would be better for everyone.
CLINT Maybe not.
NATALIA looking up again Believe me, you don’t want to do those a favor who profit from my life.
CLINT Probably not for the people behind you. But I might want to do you a favor. Hesitating Tell me, if you don’t like doing what you’re doing, why are you doing it? Why don’t you stop?
NATALIA wearily What does this look like? I’m just about to stop… pointing at her wound
CLINT Have you never thought of another way? Death isn’t the only option, not even for you.
NATALIA unbelievingly What way would there be? I’ve got nowhere to go.
CLINT Listen… Will you tell me your real name? Leicester is just plain stupid.
NATALIA shrugging Didn’t choose it. After a short pause It's Romanova if you must have it.
CLINT Okay. Listen. You are trapped in a life you don’t want to live, you don’t make your own decisions and you obviously don’t want to go on. Someone else made you a killer, didn’t they?
NATALIA Yes. They search for lucrative offers and I do the work.
CLINT Oh, how I like that kind! Having others do their dirty work. You don’t have to stay with them, you know?
NATALIA sarcastically No, surely not. Quietly They’d never let me go. I’m quite a lucrative asset.

Clint gets up and sits down at the top of the stairs opposite her. Natalia looks at him suspiciously but doesn’t get ready for defense.

CLINT Nobody says you should ask them for permission. You see, Miss Romanova, I told you I worked for an organization. You are a very skilled person and you might be of use to them as well. A second chance, if you will.
NATALIA defiantly And what change would there be? That I write my death sentences in English instead of Russian? That another authority can tell me which lives are worth taking? What trade would that be except for your country having a new asset?
CLINT shaking his head It’s not like that. I don’t want to recruit you for America. It’s the profession that is different. We’re no gun-for-hires for some rich freaks who want to take revenge or something. Our contraction body is the Human Rights and nobody is forced to do any mission. It’s not about the money, it’s about protecting the innocent.
NATALIA in disbelief And even if I for some reason believed this fairytale, why would your people take me? They want me dead.
CLINT If you’re no longer a threat, if you really want to change, why wouldn’t they take you? Yes, it might be a risk, but then again, all good things are.
NATALIA her stance changing slightly They will never trust me to be loyal. Anyone sane would choose this over death.

Clint lifts up his hands, showing he is not armed.

CLINT But you don’t choose between death and that. You choose between staying and going back.

Natalia’s eyes widen at the thought.

CLINT cont’d You can leave now if you want to, I won’t hold you back. Seems like you have to decide now, Miss Romanova, take a risk and make up for your crimes or your old life as it was.

Natalia hesitates. She’s scared.

MADAME B V.O Stupid girl. You think you can run from us.
ANTONINA V.O laughing Can’t kill you if you’re already dead.
MIRON V.O There might be problems again after some time.
MADAME B V.O Well, it might help to get her back on course.
MASHA V.O Live in honor of those who died. Show these damn dictators you’re better than them!
MADAME B V.O There is nowhere you could go.
MASHA V.O What are you waiting for?
NATALIA Barton? …If they decide they can’t … use me and they kill me… will they do it quickly?

Clint smiles a little but stops at the sight of her terrified face.

CLINT sincerely I don’t think they would kill you. But I can assure you, if they did, it would be quick and painless.

Natalia breathes through. She looks at her bloody hands, at her gun in Clint’s lap, and down the staircase. She breathes out again, looking at Clint.

NATALIA tonelessly Okay.
CLINT You’ve made a decision?
NATALIA nodding I guess I have nothing left to lose. I mean, I can’t quite believe you, but I’ve never… I’ll give it a try. I’ll come with you.

She lifts up her chin. Clint smiles sincerely and nods. Natalia smiles a bit, too, a little insecurely.

NATALIA V.O whispering Not tonight.

[Black]
EXT. Natalia and Clint walk down the road. Natalia is bleeding severely but doesn’t show any weakness. They approach the building where the party was.

CLINT I’ll quickly get my stuff from inside and get the drive back to its rightful owner.

Natalia hands him a locker key and the stick.

NATALIA What will you tell him?
CLINT That I killed you. Can’t look for you if they think you’re dead.
NATALIA Good.
CLINT What would you say?
NATALIA No, that’s exactly what I would go for.
CLINT Alright then. Don’t die in the meantime, okay? I’ll be right back.

He sneaks inside. Natalia looks around and disappears into the shadows of an alley.
CUT. INT. basement –night. The gentleman shrieks when Clint swings in through the window. He sits in a corner, looking miserable. Clint lifts up his hands.

CLINT Don’t freak out, I’m one of the good guys. Hope you aren’t hurt?

He offers a hand and helps the man to his feet.

GENTLEMAN stuttering Where… where is she? Did she get away?
CLINT She was faster than I thought, but no. People always think they could outrun me. They never can.

He holds up the stick. There’s blood on it and Clint wipes it off.

GENTLEMAN more put together So she’s dead.
CLINT Yup, she’s dead.

He brushes off some dust off the man’s shoulder and gives him the stick.

CLINT Here. I would get rid of this, though, if I were you. She won’t be the last one. Sell it. Quickly and openly so they know you don’t have it anymore.

The Gentleman nods and wants to say something but Clint turns to leave. He throws a last glance over his shoulder.

CLINT And, Sir. Stop playing with stuff you don’t understand. It’s bad for your health and for everyone you love.

CUT.EXT. alley –night. Natalia has sat down. She’s breathing heavily, but her eyes are open and wide awake. She’s thinking.

NATALIA V.O This is madness. As if they would ever… He has to lie. I have to go. Leave and never think about this again.

She lowers her head, fingering into her décolleté and pulling out a tiny knife. Then she pulls her hair back, revealing her neck.
CUT.INT. locker-room –night. Clint has his bag over one shoulder and has pulled a leather jacket over his uniform. Now he unlocks another locker, taking out Natalia’s backpack.

CLINT to himself So, let’s see what we have there.

He takes out his cellphone and lets it run over the backpack, like scanning it.

SCANNER Metal detected.

Clint opens the backpack and searches for metallic items. He finds a belt and some hairclips. He lets the scanner run over the bag again.

SCANNER Item clean. No weapons detected.
CLINT surprised Look at that. What’s this, though?

He takes out two boxes of pills, searching for a logo on them, but in vain. He frowns.
CUT. EXT. alley –night. Natalia feels for something behind her ear, frowning. She stops, she has found what she’s been looking for.

NATALIA quietly There you are. Let’s see if I can get away after all.

The knife flashes and she exhales sharply.
CUT. Clint who looks down the street, searching for her, startles and looks in her direction. CUT. Clint shines his flashlight, seeing her. Natalia has her hands behind her ear, fumbling around.

CLINT There you are! For a moment I thought you were gone.
NATALIA looking up Well, I should be. There’s a lot of things I should have done tonight.
CLINT Anyways, I’m glad you stayed. Come, someone needs to take care of that wound.
NATALIA Just a second, I almost have it.
CLINT coming over What are you…? Seeing there’s blood running down her neck. Woah, shit! He kneels down next to her. You’re bleeding. What happened?
NATALIA keeping her hands there There’s a tracker… right there, beneath my skin. I will have to get it out if I’m supposed to have died here.
CLINT shining his flashlight to see better Let me see. How big is it?
NATALIA Like a fingertip, roughly. I can feel it, but it’s not easy to reach.
CLINT May I?

Natalia shrugs and takes the flashlight from him to give him light. Clint carefully feels for the tracker. Surprised, he notices that she doesn’t show pain.

CLINT I think I have it. But it seems… I need something like tweezers to reach it. My fingers are too big for that.
NATALIA Okay, wait.

She takes the knife again and deepens the cut before Clint can intervene. Then she holds the edges apart so the gap is relatively wide.

NATALIA Now try again.
CLINT Okay. I really hope you disinfected the knife…

He reaches for the tracker. Natalia closes her eyes briefly.

CLINT I’ve got it!

He holds the bloody tracker in his palm. Natalia takes it and breaks it, using her knife.

NATALIA That should do.

She lets it fall to the ground and gets up. Clint hands her a handkerchief that she uses to wipe off the blood.

NATALIA Thank you.
CLINT Next time we find a better way. winking I’ll bring tweezers.
NATALIA serious That’s the only tracker as far as I know.

Clint wants to say something but doesn’t, he leads her to his car.

CLINT Let’s get you sewn up.

Natalia looks back to the house, she hesitates for a moment. Clint who just wanted to enter the car looks at her.

CLINT You okay?

Natalia snaps to attention.

NATALIA Yes, sure.

NATALIA V.O sighing Let’s hope for the best, shall we?

She gets into the car.
[ Not tonight … Black with the end of the song]
[End Credits]

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

Yay :D
I know a talk-out isn't what action movies do, but it's what Natalia and Clint would do in this universe and I won't force them into an action scene if they don't want to.
But that doesn't mean Natalia gets out of this without an arrow-wound, absolute necessity.
Isn't Clint sweet? And poor Natalia is so suspicious...
I think the next chapter is my favorite of the bunch, though. Lots of characters :D

Also I've finally watched Hawkeye :D Damn good, sadly more of a tribute to Nat than her own movie imho. Absolutely dig how done Clint is with his shit.

Thank you as always for your kind words!

Chapter 12: S2/12: Rendezvous at One

Summary:

Natalia has made a decision. Uncertain of where it may lead her, she follows Clint Barton to Washington, hoping that she can convince his superiors that she can be more than just a killer, something she is not even sure she believes herself.

Music piece: “Turn it into something special” by Sasha

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Rendezvous at one

◄◄◄►►►

[Fade in]
EXT. street –night. Clint’s car pulls up in front of an apartment complex. He gets out and so does Natalia who takes a little support from the car but doesn’t show any weakness otherwise. Clint takes both of their bags with him.

CLINT You’re alright?
NATALIA Sure.

She follows him to the door, noticing that he shields the bell push from her sight to conceal which one he’s pressing. The speaker cracks.

CLINT Hey, Charlie, it’s me.
CHARLIE V.O scoffs Well, look at that. You have not completely forgotten about me after all.
CLINT I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t check in for a while. Pausing Can I come up? I have something for you to sew up.

The summer is activated. Clint opens the door and gestures Natalia to come in. She waits by the stairs, but he points at the elevator.

CLINT shrugging Y’know, the night was too rough for stairs.

Natalia follows, eyes resting on him in surprise. In the elevator, she turns away to let him enter the floor number. Now it’s his turn to stare.

CLINT Uhm… thank you?
NATALIA I don’t always have to know things. Sometimes it’s better not to.
CLINT That’s true. Still, thank you.

Natalia shrugs. The elevator door opens and they leave. Clint doesn’t even have to knock, Charlie is already waiting for them by the door.

CHARLIE When you said something, I didn’t think of someone else.

He raises an eyebrow at the arrow.

CHARLIE Is that your new pick-up strategy? Even your worst one-liners might work better than that.
CLINT Missed you, too. She isn’t my girlfriend, though, she just needs a medic, and it can’t wait. Please.
CHARLIE indignantly You think I’d let her bleed out?

He turns, going inside. Clint smirks, gesturing Natalia to follow. She hunches her shoulders, stepping in rather shyly.
Clint leads her to the living room where Charlie has prepared a quick medical set. He puts on gloves.

CHARLIE not meeting eyes with Natalia Get down on the couch, miss. To Clint, sighing There’s some pizza in the freezer.
CLINT enthusiastically Aw, you’re the best, I could eat a horse!

He goes to the freezer. Natalia has sat down on the couch, not fully out of defense mode. Charlie picks up a syringe and tests it.

NATALIA alarmed What is that?
CHARLIE Painkiller. Don’t want the neighbors to freak out.
NATALIA I won’t scream. I don’t need it.
CHARLIE frowning You are aware I’ll need to pull this out? This will hurt like hell.
NATALIA unusually determined I can take the pain. No drugs.
CLINT sitting on the armchair, pizza almost devoured Let her have it her way, Charlie, she’s tougher than she looks.

Charlie shrugs and takes a pair of scissors.

CHARLIE Don’t say I haven’t warned you.

Natalia relaxes a little. Her eyes follow Charlie’s every movement.

CHARLIE I’ll have to cut your shirt.
NATALIA Sure, go ahead.

He cuts the fabric around the wound. Without a second of hesitation, Natalia removes her shirt. He glances at her for a second, then cuts her trousers, too and she rolls them down for him to reach the arrow.

CHARLIE Not the first time for you, is it?
NATALIA seriously I wouldn’t tell you I could handle the pain if I didn’t know I could.

Charlie takes a pair of pliers and takes the arrow between them.

CHARLIE Okay… careful now…

He pulls at the arrow carefully. Natalia doesn't move, only a slight twist of her mouth reveals her pain. Charlie looks surprised but keeps going, putting the bloody arrow onto the table and taking a needle and thread.

CHARLIE That will sting a bit.

He starts sewing. Clint has watched, nodding in respect for Natalia’s self-control. He’s drinking a coke by now. Charlie does his work relatively professionally with a needle holder, but his hand is a little shaky and the stitches don’t end up completely clean.

CHARLIE not directly to Natalia You were lucky. You lost a bit of blood, but the injury isn’t that dangerous. It’ll leave a scar, though, I can’t help that.
NATALIA No problem. I appreciate your effort.
CHARLIE nodding Getting old, Clint, aren’t you? Usually, you don’t hit someone when you mean to miss, nor the other way around.
CLINT Long story, some other time. But you know me, I never miss.
CHARLIE sarcastically Except for showing up once in a while, which you failed to do for like four months.
CLINT I know, I’m sorry. I get busy, I forget, you know what I’m like. I won’t miss it this time, promise.
CHARLIE I take your word on it. To Natalia, covering the wound with a dressing That would be it, Miss.
NATALIA quietly Thank you.

She sits up, visibly embarrassed by the intimacy between them.

CHARLIE You kept your word, though. Quite impressive.

Natalia shrugs, wrapping her arms around herself. She is cold and uncomfortable. Clint looks at her bloody shirt and gets up.

CLINT I’ll get you something to wear.
NATALIA I can put on my dress.

She moves the trousers a little, grimacing a little when the fabric presses onto her wound.

CLINT We have a long ride in front of us, it would be uncomfortable. Don’t worry, it’s been washed.

He leaves into the back of the apartment before Natalia can say anything more. She and Charlie remain in awkward silence.

CHARLIE Uhm, do you… need anything?
NATALIA No, I’m fine, thank you.
CHARLIE You can use the bathroom if you want to. Second door to the left.
NATALIA That’s very kind, thank you.

She gets up, searching for something in her backpack. Clint returns with a blue t-shirt that obviously belongs to him.

CLINT I’m sorry, that’s the smallest size I have.
NATALIA taking it Thank you.

She takes a make-up case out of her backpack and leaves for the bathroom. Clint and Charlie are alone now. They sit down on the couch.

CHARLIE In how much trouble are you?
CLINT indignantly Charlie, I’m not always…
CHARLIE Clint, how bad?
CLINT grimacing As in, I’ve failed my mission, brought the most dangerous assassin of the world here and I’m gonna ask my boss to take her in. That bad.
CHARLIE That kid? A killer?
CLINT Oh, she’s the best. Fury will be pissed.
CHARLIE Why did you not finish the mission, then?
CLINT sighing Honest, I don’t really know. I had doubts. I think there’s something to her…
CHARLIE Oh dear…
CLINT Not that kind of something, Charlie. Like you said, she’s pretty much a kid. I wouldn’t…
CHARLIE C’mon, I’m making fun of you. Your intuition I am way more sure of than your reliance. Just be sensible, alright? Don’t let her do something to you.
CLINT I won’t. I’m on my guard, promise.

They sit silently for a while. There’s no sound from the bathroom.

CHARLIE What is she doing in there?
CLINT Building an Uzi out of make-up supplies? What do I know?

CUT. INT. bathroom –night. Natalia washes her face and looks up into the mirror. Her make-up is running down her face and she takes a make-up pad to remove it, going down her neck and shoulders as well, revealing the fresh dark violet bruises on her arms.
She looks up into the mirror, her true features revealed.

NATALIA V.O I think I already did come to the conclusion this is insane, didn’t I?
VOICES V.O whispering Murderer. Undeserved. Worthless. Monster.

Natalia faces away, ashamed.
CUT/ door closing. INT. living room –night. Natalia enters, wearing Clint’s massive shirt. She looks small and fragile, the missing make-up reveals the shadows under her eyes and how thin she actually is. Shock flashes over Clint’s face as he gets up.

CLINT Hey. You good?
NATALIA Yeah.
CLINT noticing the bruises I… didn’t do that, did I?
NATALIA quietly No… no, that wasn’t you.

Embarrassed, she pulls the shirt down a little, as if to hide the signs of abuse. She packs the case back into her backpack and throws it over her shoulder, standing there a little awkwardly, unsure what to do.
CUT. INT. hallway –night. Clint and Natalia leave the apartment, Charlie remains by the door. Natalia nods slightly and he nods back.

CLINT Thanks, man. See you around.
CHARLIE Take care.

He closes the door softly.
CUT. INT. car –night. Clint and Natalia settle and Clint starts the engine. For a while, they drive in silence before Clint can’t bear it any longer.

CLINT So, Uhm, yeah. My name is Clint, you heard that now… It’s pretty boring, I know, but I think it could be worse. Throwing a glance I don’t know your name yet. Your first name, I mean. I mean, certainly not Mary.
NATALIA No. It’s Natalia.
CLINT Natalia? Like Natalie, but with an a?
NATALIA Yeah.
CLINT Pretty. After a while of silence About Charlie… don’t take that personally or anything, he’s always like that. He ain’t a big talker, especially around strangers. Laughing Then again, you don’t seem to be that either.
NATALIA No, I’m not. I’m sorry if I caused inconvenience. I know you didn’t want to bring me there in the first place.
CLINT slightly embarrassed Yeah, about that…
NATALIA That’s okay. I know very well what I am. It merely shows you’re good at your job, being cautious, and not trusting me. If I were in your position, I wouldn't trust me either.
CLINT Well, I do trust you not to kill me and you trust me not to kill you. I call that a good start.

[“Turn it into something special” starts playing]
Natalia narrows her eyes, trying to figure out if he’s being ironic.

NATALIA cautiously I guess it is.

Clint smiles.

CLINT V.O Nothing’s lost that can’t be found, ain’t a thing we can’t turn round .

[Black]
[Intro]

INT. car -night, Clint is driving, Natalia is staring out of the window, her face reflected by the glass, her arm resting on the sill.
CUT.INT. Red Room. Ivan beats her up. Madame B looks down at her full of contempt. She’s tied up in the straitjacket.

IVAN V.O You’re pathetic. You’re weak.
MADAME B Why would you betray us? We’ve raised you, Natalia, we’ve made you strong. Without us, you’d be dead.

Natalia shakes her head slightly to get the voices out of her head. Clint looks at her.

CLINT What ya thinking of?
NATALIA wearily How stupid I am.
CLINT Ah, you’re not. You’re scared of the change, that’s alright.
NATALIA Easy for you to say. I’m going against everything I was ever taught.
CLINT If mindless killing is what you’ve been taught, that’s the right thing to do. hesitates But it’s scary, I know.

Natalia sighs and looks at him quickly and tensely. Clint smiles at her then faces the road again. He’s driving rather steadily and slowly.

NATALIA We’d be there in half of the time if I was driving.
CLINT My car, my rules. Also, you’re injured.
NATALIA That wouldn’t matter.
CLINT We’ll be there soon enough. I’ve got to ask for an appointment anyway.
NATALIA Honestly, what are the odds? How likely am I to die?
CLINT Oh, come on.

He turns away, looking clearly worried. Natalia is watching him. She gulps and bites her lip. Clint brings the car to a hold.

CLINT Gotta place a call.
NATALIA M-Hmm.

Clint leaves the car, typing a number into his phone. Natalia lays her forehead against the window and closes her eyes.

NATALIA Bozhe moy…

EXT. parking bay –night. Clint paces up and down, waiting for his call to be answered.
CUT. INT. S.H.I.E.L.D. –night. Coulson picks up his phone.
CUT. EXT.

COULSON V.O Barton?
CLINT Right here.
COULSON You got out of it alive, then. Good job.
CLINT uncomfortably Yeah… Can I talk to the boss?
COULSON Barton, what did you do? Don’t tell me you screwed up!

Clint looks at Natalia who sits in the car, arms wrapped around her body.

CLINT Nah, depends on the point of view.
COULSON sighs Okay, I’ll get you Director Fury.

Clint leans against the car, looking in Natalia’s direction.

CLINT Please don’t be a double agent, please don’t be…
FURY V.O Barton?
CLINT starts Yeah?

Cutting back and forth between Fury’s office and the parking bay.

FURY What’s the matter? Mission accomplished?
CLINT grimacing Yeah… sorta.
FURY What do you mean, sort of?
CLINT smiling at Natalia who’s looking at him Well, technically… she ain’t… dead…
FURY Barton, my patience is limited. Explanation. Now.
CLINT I spared her. Her skills might be of use for S.H.I.E.L.D as well and…
FURY My orders were quite clear, weren’t they? Assassination, not Recruiting. She’s a Russian spy and definitely not someone I want within S.H.I.E.L.D.
CLINT She’s not quite who I thought she’d be. Honestly, I’m not even certain if she’s underage. Those people she works for…
FURY Who?
CLINT Don’t know exactly.
FURY Did she at least give you her name?
CLINT Yeah, Natalia Romanova. If you ask me, I think it’s her real name.
FURY You realize she’s still the killer you set out to get?
CLINT I know she pulled the triggers. Thing is, she ain’t the bad guy behind all this, she’s literally just the killer. The only thing she needs is a chance, like I once did.
FURY almost gently Barton, you were a kid robbing stores. You had killed two people. She’s killed more like 200.
CLINT I know. The only thing I ask for is you give her the chance to talk to you. If you don’t change your mind then, I won’t make a fuss. Hesitates I take full responsibility for it.
FURY sighs We can’t know how much damage she can cause through that talk. What if she turns it into a massacre?
CLINT She won’t. She doesn’t even know what organization I work for. She had plenty of possibilities of killing people tonight, including me, but she didn’t use ‘em, even when I shot her.
FURY You realize she might be manipulating you? I told you she was dangerous.
CLINT I told you I wouldn’t let her lie to me. Well, I didn’t. I’m well aware of what I’m doing, Fury, and I tell you, she’s not a bad person. breathes through We could help her.

CUT. INT. car. Natalia leans back and closes her eyes in despair and pain.
CUT. INT. Fury’s office. Fury walks to the window and looks over Washington DC at night. He sighs.
CUT. EXT.

FURY V.O Okay then. We’ll talk. I’ll send you coordinates for a place here in DC. Rendezvous at one.

Clint breathes out, relieved, and smiles.

CLINT Thank you, Director.
FURY Hope for yourself you’re right. hangs up

CUT. INT. car. Clint enters. Natalia looks at him inquiringly.

CLINT Let’s go then.

He starts the car and maneuvers it back onto the street. Natalia is tense but doesn’t dare to ask him for information. Clint glances at her.

CLINT We’ll have a talk with my boss at one.
NATALIA shyly Is he very angry at you?
CLINT easily Not as much as you might think. Don't worry, he's strict but fair.
NATALIA more to herself Wonder if that’s a good thing…

She’s looking at her reflection in the window. It goes blurred, revealing the dark streets. Soft music starts playing as cities fly by. Close up on Natalia, then Clint, both lost in thought.
CUT. INT. Fury’s office –night. Fury puts down a cup of coffee and goes back to watching the city. Music continues playing as the camera tilts over the cities and slowly fades to black.
CUT.EXT. street –day. Clint maneuvers the car to a parking space. Natalia peeks out to see a McDonald's building.

NATALIA You can’t be serious.
CLINT What?
NATALIA It’s almost one, we have a meeting to attend, we don’t have time for food.
CLINT Yeah, but we can have a bite while we are having that meeting. Here’s the place, see?

He shows her the coordinates and taps on the navigation system.

CLINT You have a problem with that?
NATALIA No, of course not...
CLINT But?

She shrugs. Clint tilts his head. Natalia’s stomach grumbles.

CLINT Are you hungry?
NATALIA apologetically I haven’t had anything for a while.
CLINT Party?
NATALIA I didn’t take anything.
CLINT Yes, I saw that, but why not?
NATALIA embarrassed I wasn’t… meant to.
CLINT Okay...? Cryptic… Why didn’t you say something at Charlie’s? I would have shared that pizza.

Natalia shrugs again.

CLINT amused Okay, then, let’s go inside and get you something to eat.

They get out. Natalia is observing the perimeter systematically. Clint opens the door for her.

NATALIA V.O Why would you choose a public place like that? Sure, intervention’s not far away but I could do so much harm if I wanted to...

INT. McDonalds.

CLINT holding her back Let’s play a little game first. Who in this building is working for the organization?
NATALIA Okay...

She straightens herself, ready for the challenge.
The whole room is shown from her p.o.v, scanning each customer and the assistants. Maria Hill is sitting at a table completely in black, hair tied back. Coulson is in suit and tie, sunglasses, cup in front of him. Fury is just coming out of the toilets, in a long coat and sunglasses as well. All of them are behaving inconspicuously.

NATALIA with certainty Three inside. Outside of course an intervention team or something of that sort.
CLINT Interesting. Who are the spies in here?
NATALIA Brown hair, black jacket, no food. On your ten o’clock.

Hill takes out her mobile, typing a message.

CLINT With the phone? The woman?
NATALIA Yeah.
CLINT Alright. Who else?
NATALIA Twelve o’clock. Suit. Drink, no food. He’s half bald.
CLINT The one with the violet tie?
NATALIA How is that violet? That’s blue, and more of a greenish one at that.
CLINT Oh, the one who’s just drinking?
NATALIA Exactly.
CLINT Okay then…
NATALIA The last one, your boss, is the man who is just walking from the toilets. Long coat, sunglasses. I assume he usually wears an eyepatch. And he wears a colt beneath his jacket.
CLINT Two o’clock? How can you see?
NATALIA The way his coat falls.
CLINT The eyepatch?
NATALIA The pressure marks on his head.
CLINT Okay, interesting. Anyone else?
NATALIA I don’t think so.
CLINT And why?
NATALIA I would have assumed all the customers were spies but they’re not. See that little girl?

The camera shows a five-year-old that is playing with a doll, a completely carefree child, not paying attention to the two spies.

NATALIA If she was a spy she would look at us, no matter how well she is trained. But she is not interested at all. And if she is no spy, nor are the others.
CLINT uneasily Isn’t that little one pretty young for a spy anyway?
NATALIA surprised Yeah… probably…

She seems a bit taken aback, Clint notices that right away.

CLINT So you do have kid agents in Russia? Reconsidering Why would I even ask? You probably were one yourself.

Natalia shrugs as if to confirm it. Clint is shocked for a moment, then gets professional again.

CLINT Okay, let’s see if you were right. puts his finger onto his ear Meet at Coulson’s table.

Hill and Fury approach the table as well as Clint, followed by Natalia who smiles quickly in triumph but is rather nervous altogether. Fury and Hill watch her suspiciously while Coulson smiles at them.

CLINT That would be… Three out of three! Not bad, Natalia.
FURY Natalia Romanova, is it? The infamous Black Widow.

Natalia automatically gives the hint of a curtsey. Clint looks at her a little strangely before he intervenes, gently nudging her to take a seat. She slips onto the chair, sitting down like she’s been trained to, feet parallel, both hands flat on the table.

CLINT Boss, before you start talking, I need something to eat and Miss Romanova as well.
FURY Don’t play with my patience, Barton.
CLINT Real quick. Natalia? What would you like?
NATALIA helplessly I don’t…
CLINT Chickenburger? Fries? Fishburger?
NATALIA No fish, but really...
CLINT Chicken then?
NATALIA Yeah, okay…
CLINT Will be right back.

He leaves for the counter. Fury leans onto the table.

FURY Here we are, then, Miss Romanova. What do you want from me?
NATALIA insecurely I’d like to… offer my service, Sir.
FURY sarcastically Ah, good to know. And why, Miss Romanova, would I be in need of your service?
NATALIA I… I could be useful for you. I’ve been trained to be a spy.
FURY You think you are better trained than my agents?
NATALIA I don't think I can allow myself any judgment, Sir. I didn't encounter all but one of them.

Clint returns, putting a tray on the table in front of her and taking a seat. Natalia feels a little more secure with him.

FURY You’re little friend doesn’t act very revealing, Barton.
CLINT Of course she doesn’t. She’s hell scared of messing this up, Director, and you’re being intimidating as far as I can tell.

Natalia looks at him, then at Fury, completely confused. She would never talk to her boss like that.

NATALIA subdued I didn’t mean to be secretive, Sir.
FURY Good. Then tell me, who are you working for and why the sudden switch of camps?
NATALIA obediently I worked for an organization, called the “Black Widow Program”. I don’t know for certain if they have anything to do with the government or the FSB, but I don’t think so. I was placed in jobs by them, fulfilling killing-on-demand or other jobs for private people or corporations. It depended on who paid most.
FURY Who got the money?
NATALIA My handlers.
FURY And you?
NATALIA A place to sleep and food. Medical treatment when required.
HILL That doesn’t sound like a decent deal. Why would you work for them?
NATALIA I didn’t have an opportunity to get away. I have no contacts on my own and not a penny to spend. And I've never learned anything else. Besides, I don't even have a passport for myself. Just fake IDs for covers they created.
CLINT munching Don’t forget the tracker.

Natalia automatically touches the place where the tracker has been.

NATALIA Right. Another obstacle.
COULSON more friendly than Hill You seem to have thought that through. But you have not found any way?
NATALIA No way that wasn’t equal to suicide.
FURY You say you don’t have a passport. Means no birth certificate, no ID, no certification that you are who you claim to be.
NATALIA nodding I’ve merely told you what I believe to be my true identity.

She looks Fury in the eye to stress her point despite that being quite a challenge for her. He points at her burger.

FURY I thought you were hungry.

Natalia nods slightly but doesn’t make a move. Clint bows over to her.

CLINT He just wanted to make clear that you can eat while he’s talking.

Natalia looks at Fury who nods to reassure her.

NATALIA half tonelessly Thank you.

She unwraps the burger and lifts it up to take a bite.

MADAME B V.O Until you get back, you don't eat, do you understand?

Natalia hesitates and swallows hard, then takes a bite and chews hastily, careful not to let show how hungry she really is. Fury wants to continue but seeing how anxiously she looks at him while eating he hesitates. Quietly, they wait for her to finish. Natalia is uncomfortable but too hungry to leave anything. As soon as she’s finished, she sits down properly, looking at Fury attentively.

FURY I just wonder why you are willing to take a risk like this, talking to “the enemy” when you seem to be such a careful and reasonable planer.
NATALIA I have not killed my target. I have failed my mission. hesitating I have nothing left to lose.
FURY But you were aware of this consequence when you made the decision. So I am supposed to believe you expected Barton to offer you a job when you spared your target?
NATALIA Of course not. I expected to die.
HILL You are contradicting yourself. You just said you didn’t leave Russia because you were afraid to die, now you spared a target and waited to be killed.
NATALIA There is a difference between a quick and clean shot and…

CUT. Red Room [quick jumpy cuts] Ivan is beating her/ Veronika is screaming/Masha’s eyes flash with fear/ blood/ A blurred screaming face and hands.
CUT. INT. McDonald's. Natalia gulps.

NATALIA voice throaty …what they would have done to me. I’m not afraid of dying necessarily, as long as it’s a quick death.
FURY What would assure me that you will be any more loyal to me than you are to them?
NATALIA If people are coming to your organization free-willed and stay, I think you might be more deserving of loyalty than they are. Barton says you are different.

Clint finishes his burger and goes for the fries.

NATALIA cont’d, growing more confident I don’t know how you work or how you treat your agents, but what I’ve seen so far I found very promising. Why wouldn’t I be loyal to someone who improves my living conditions?
HILL Because someone else might pay more. Killer-on-demand jobs are usually more lucrative.
NATALIA quietly Money can’t buy you safety.
FURY I value my agents’ safety very much, Miss Romanova. I will not tolerate any harming of any agent of mine.
NATALIA I promise I will not cause any more harm.
FURY Good, in that case, let’s go.

The three agents get up, Natalia and Clint follow. Natalia looks at Clint, unsure. He shrugs, unable to read Fury. Natalia is tense, observing everything like she senses a trap. As Clint carefully pats her shoulder she flinches.

CLINT whispering Hey, you’re gonna be fine. Don’t be scared.
NATALIA breathing I’ve been trained to be scared. To Clint, ironically Why would I be? It’s not like this is the riskiest thing I've ever done.

Clint smiles helplessly as she walks by, leaving the McDonald’s shop. He remains for a few seconds, lost in thought. Loud voices from outside. Clint starts, spinning around.

CLINT Oh, shit!

[Black]
[End credits]

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

And... I did a cliffhanger again. Sorry about that, but it was getting really long otherwise.
Nat's met the S.H.I.E.L.D gang! I'm sorry, I really like this chapter, just the idea of the five best spies in the world having important business going down in a fast-food restaurant...
Also I love Charlie, I know in the comics his name ought to be Barney, but he's often portrayed as evil or related to the Circus, so I wanted to have that distinction and rather make my own character out of it. Also "Barney Barton" is a villain origin story on its own.
Also also, might I just mention the aesthetic of Natalia wearing a massive shirt of Clint's?
Anyway, prepare for meeting my favorite original character for this fic next week (sorry Charlie) and all around some S.H.I.E.L.D action because we're in DC now, ya'll :D

Also on a sidenote, what on earth was this week's episode of hawkeye :O I was like, okay, we had our Natasha moments, can't demand too many of them, and then they did this. DAMN.

Chapter 13: S 2/13: S.H.I.E.L.D

Summary:

Unconvinced of the Black Widow’s sincerity, Fury has decided to take her prisoner. Natalia’s instinct of self-perseverance clashes with her desperate wish to be someone she can look into the eyes.

Music piece: “Goodbye to Yesterday” by No Angels

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

S.H.I.E.L.D

◄◄◄►►►

[Fade in]
INT. Mc Donalds -day. Clint looks after Natalia. Loud voices from outside. Clint starts, spinning around.

CLINT Oh, shit!

He runs out. EXT. Street. Natalia is surrounded by a S.H.I.E.L.D Strike team, hands defensively crossed in the Black Widow way in front of her chest. Clint comes out of the shop.

CLINT agitatedly Natalia, what the hell are you doing?
NATALIA turning, half accusingly, half imploringly I’ve not done a thing, Barton!... shakily I’ve not done a thing.

He can see her hands are trembling, her eyes are wide. He turns to Fury.

CLINT What…
FURY I can’t take the responsibility for keeping her at large, Barton.
CLINT Fury, she ain’t …
FURY We don’t know that. Not even you can know who she really is and what side she’s on.

The strike team approaches Natalia. She gets ready to defend herself. Clint notices and wants to say something but then his expression hardens. Natalia looks at him. He shrugs grimly, somewhat giving her permission to go.

NATALIA V.O echoing I promise I will not cause any more harm.

Natalia lowers her head and lifts up her hands slowly. The strike team gets to her, roughly putting handcuffs around her wrists. She doesn’t resist them.

CLINT I told her I’d let her go, Fury.
FURY Ending her crimes is a chance we won’t get twice. You knew that.
CLINT I meant what I said. I didn’t bring her here to get arrested.
FURY Even though I know that’s the truth, if she believed that she is not as good as I thought.

One S.H.I.E.L.D agent touches Natalia’s wound, causing her serious pain. She endures it silently.

CLINT cont’d Or maybe she’s just desperate enough to hope for anything.

Natalia is taken to a car, she notices the S.H.I.E.L.D sign. The guards handle her quite roughly. Amongst them is BROCK RUMLOW, the strike team leader. Clint approaches them.

CLINT Hey! She is cooperating, isn’t she? No need to bully her like that, she’s injured.
RUMLOW Let us do our job, we don’t wind up dead.
CLINT I don’t think it’s up to you whether we do. Looks at Natalia But being a little less harsh might improve your chances.

Natalia looks back at him, then lowers her eyes, glancing at him through her lashes.

NATALIA quietly Are you afraid, Agent Barton?
CLINT Should I be?

Before she can answer she is pressed against the car. She hisses with pain. Clint almost interjects again but then just shakes his head.

CLINT to himself Hope you don’t overstrain her reflex control.

Natalia is searched for weapons, they find her pocket knife and her golden hairpin. She bites her lip as they take it but doesn’t take action. Coulson takes the two items putting them in plastic bags.

COULSON This will be safely stored away.

Natalia tilts her head. He smiles at her. She stares back.

COULSON Will you get inside, please, Miss Romanova?

Natalia nods and carefully climbs into the car, careful to not startle anyone. Her shirt has started to get bloodstained but she doesn't show how much she's hurt. Fury, Hill, and Coulson enter in the front of the truck. Clint follows them, giving Natalia a little pained smile before. As she can’t see him anymore Natalia stiffens, her breathing gets faster. The guards point their weapons at her. The silence is tense, nobody makes a move. Then a window to the front opens and Clint looks through the bars.

CLINT Jesus Christ. What exactly is the problem?
RUMLOW You intervene once more, you’ll have one.
CLINT grins I’m used to that. You good, Natalia?

Natalia relaxes a little and nods. She tries to smile but it looks fake and she drops it again, staring at him silently.

CLINT Great.

He turns back but this time Natalia stays calm. The guards one by one put down their guns. A strand of hair falls into Natalia’s eyes. She blows it away. Rumlow immediately has his gun on her again. Natalia tilts her head.
Natalia rises, jumping behind another guard who is perforated by the fire aimed at her. One bullet destroys her handcuffs. She overtakes the agents with ease, takes a gun, and shoots the lock on the truck door…
Natalia blinks, staring at Rumlow who is still pointing his weapon at her. The others watch her.

NATALIA in Russian Don’t worry, I don’t intend to kill you by breathing.

CUT. INT. Truck cabin. Coulson smiles. Clint bows over.

CLINT whispering What’d she say?
COULSON Languages are an important skill.
CLINT Yeah, yeah, Mr. Teacher…

CUT. INT. Truck. Rumlow takes his gun down.

RUMLOW Make one wrong move…
NATALIA Got it.

She sits silently now but the guards are still tense. Cut. EXT. The truck drives towards the Triskelion.
Cut. INT. Truck. Clint turns back. Natalia doesn’t look at him. She has hunched in her seat.

CLINT Natalia?

She looks at him for a split second, then faces away again. He notices fresh blood on her shirt.

CLINT We’ll be there in a minute. Nobody’s gonna harm you. He throws Rumlow a telling look. Just come along, okay? You’ll be fine.

Natalia lifts up her eyes and stares at him for a long time. Finally, Clint looks away and wants to turn back.

NATALIA in Russian, accusingly For a moment I believed you.

Clint looks at her, taken aback.

CLINT apologetically I’m sorry, I don’t speak Russian.

Natalia turns away again. Cut. INT. Truck cabin. Coulson whispers a translation to Clint. Clint looks shaken and guilty. Fury faces straight ahead.

HILL Don’t let her get to you, Barton. She wants to make you feel bad.
CLINT You also speak Russian?
HILL Her tone was enough to figure it out.
CLINT Anyway, she’s got every right to. For her, I’m a traitor. And technically I am.
FURY Now don’t be over-moralistic, Barton. You spared her life, you brought her here, now her fate is not up to you. She owes you her life, she can’t ask for more.
CLINT She didn’t ask me to spare her. She asked me to set her free.

He turns away. Fury sighs.
CUT. INT. Truck Natalia sits in total silence and lets her hair conceal her face. The camera tilts to reveal she is fighting hard to keep her face expressionless. The car holds a little sloppily, Natalia hisses quietly. Rumlow presses his weapon against her flank.

RUMLOW Don’t move.

Natalia just stares at him.
CUT. EXT. The truck has been parked in a garage. The door opens and Natalia is led out by the strike team, Rumlow still at her side. A high-security door closes behind them, Natalia turns to see the source of the noise. Rumlow grabs her arm, the gun on his belt hits Natalia’s wound. She gasps loudly, the noise echoing through the garage. Clint spins around, seeing Natalia’s face for a moment before she puts her mask back on. He wants to intervene, but Fury lifts a hand to hold him back.

FURY sharply Agent Rumlow.
RUMLOW subdued Excuse me, Director.

He throws a hateful glance at Natalia but she doesn’t look at him. Her eyes try to find any clues where she is. A S.H.I.E.L.D symbol stands out to her. She tilts her head slightly, searching her mind for information like a computer. Finally, she has it.

INSTRUCTOR V.O Name the biggest secret service of the United States of America.
NATALIA V.O Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistic Division. Founded in 1945 by Peggy Carter, SSR.
INSTRUCTOR V.O The Acronym?
NATALIA V.O S.H.I.E.L.D echoing

Natalia twists her mouth in a mixture of contentment and sarcasm. Clint gets to her side.

CLINT to Fury Should I, Director…?
FURY No.

He gives two other agents a sign and they get to Natalia, leading her to the elevator. She lets them proceed silently. The group enters the elevator. It goes up, everyone remaining in tense silence. Cut. INT. prison hallway [slow-motion] Natalia, surrounded by the guards walks towards the camera, chin held high stubbornly.
Cut. cell. The door is opened. Natalia flinches, backing away in a reflex. Rumlow puts his weapon against her head.

RUMLOW roughly, quietly Get in if you want to keep your beautiful head.

Natalia breathes through and steps in carefully. As the door slams shut she starts and spins around. The guards stand down and she can tell how tense they have been.

FURY Make yourself at home. But mind you, we’ve got our eyes and ears.

He points at a camera outside. Natalia nods slightly and backs away to the bed without taking her eyes off them. She sits down. Fury nods.

FURY Good. Barton, I need to talk to you.

He leaves, followed by the guards, Coulson and Hill.
Clint stays in front of the cell.

CLINT apologetically Natalia, I’m sorry. I know you won’t believe a word I say but don’t be afraid, you’ll be-
FURY from afar Agent Barton, now, if you don’t mind!
CLINT to Fury On my way, boss! to Natalia I gotta go. Just don’t – Hesitating Ah, forget about it. Leaves hastily.

Natalia opens her mouth as if she wants to call him back but then lowers her head.

MADAME B V.O You mustn’t trust anyone. They will always lie to you.
YOUNG NATALIA V.O But some people have to be honest.
MADAME B V.O No, Natalia. Believe anyone out there and you’ll get killed. As soon as you don’t keep your distance, you’re defenseless.

Natalia looks around, on her handcuffed hands, her blood-stained shirt, and the bare tiny room.

NATALIA And if hell freezes over, I will never admit you were right.

She lifts up her head. [Music] Zoom out through the prison hallway, elevator up to the top, Fury’s office where he is just talking to Clint, then the outside of the Triskelion.

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia had never been a big fan of assessing her situation. Usually, she had found, it didn't really help lift her spirits.
Still, if she had –hypothetically –assessed her situation, she would have done it as follows:
She was alone, for the first time since yesterday evening, locked up in an American prison cell in a highly secure building, she had committed treason, failed a mission, followed a person from outside and she was tired, starved and injured and had no idea what they would do to her.
Wow, the assessment hadn’t been that bad in a while…
She ought to regret it now, probably. She ought to wish herself back to the Red Room, back home, back where she belonged to. She ought to wish to have killed Agent Barton.
She tried to stop thinking about whether she did any of those things because her head hurt anyway and there was no point in thinking what she should or should not have done, she had made a decision and had to live with it. No amount of pondering would change her present situation.
So, this cell it was. It wasn’t too bad, she was rather surprised how big it was. A square room, three steps on three steps, everything in a very light grey. There were corners. That was good.
Natalia shuddered at the thought of the cell without corners at the Red Room, the room with absolutely no light and with the soft, circular walls that gave no safety.
She hadn’t even been sure her body was still there. The walls absorbed the sounds of her labored breathing, seemed to absorb her when she had finally found the mental strength to move and had finally found the wall… it might turn into a living thing any second and there was nothing she could do, nowhere she could hide… not even a single corner to curl up in, just a silent black void… and her mind didn’t believe her calming assurance that there was nothing there, nothing to be afraid of, not even for a second. Just her own blood pulsing in her ears.
So no, the prison part wasn’t too bad. As far as she could see there wasn’t even a way to isolate her completely from the hallway, nor did she think the cell could actually hold her if she tried.
It was probably better to wait until her wound was better to try and escape… if she wanted to do that which, to be honest, she had no idea if she did.
The shirt that Barton had given her was covered in bloodstains, her wound was throbbing uncomfortably. She wasn’t sure how bad it was, but she had lost more blood than was good for her. She would have examined it more closely, but she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to move, after all the S.H.I.E.L.D Director, Fury, had nodded when she had sat down like it was the thing he expected of her. Because of that, she sat still, staring through the bars of the cell onto a white wall.
The wound wasn’t the big deal either. She’d been punished worse than this before and aftermaths of injuries had been worse before, too. All of this would have been perfectly bearable.
The problem was that this wasn’t a punishment, not in the usual sense. It wasn’t because she had done something wrong that needed fixing.
She had done something so fundamentally wrong, had strayed so far from her path that she had no orientation, no fixpoint. And she didn't even really regret it, she didn't want to go home, which was what she ought to want… She didn't want to be here either, not in this cell, not outside. She didn't want to be at all. All of this was wrong.
A shaky, miserable exhale was the only expression of her feelings she was able to make. Curling up, panicking, banging her head against the wall… all of that seemed kind of reasonable in that second, but she wasn’t allowed to move…
With a sudden pang of despair, Natalia found that for the first time in fifteen years, she was truly on her own.

◄◄◄►►►

It had gotten quite late when Natalia was startled by a sound coming from the wall. Turning, she saw a small flap opening, revealing a tray with food.
With a bit of difficulty, Natalia got up and took it, carefully balancing it in her handcuffed hands. It would be practically impossible to eat with her hands restrained like this.
It was some sort of rice dish with a bit of salad, a bigger portion than one would expect. She’d make a total mess and on top of that, she hadn't eaten properly for so long that her hunger had turned into nausea, nicely accompanying the dizziness. What she gladly took, though, was the water, gulping it down all at once to at least slightly help against her dry mouth.
Then she took the spork and tried her luck with the food, she had to eat at least a bit of it if she didn’t want her system to fail. She gave up after just a few spoonfuls, it was so tedious and she just didn’t have the patience, nor the motivation to try anymore.
She sat perfectly still for a while, the plate in her lap. Should she put it back into the flap? Should she keep it until the next meal? Would not eating up mean she’d get less for the next meal? And if so, did she care?
Natalia subtly pressed her arm against her injured side. She was in pain and a day like this was bound to take away her appetite.
On the tray next to the plate lay two small pills. Unsure, Natalia picked up one of them. She wasn’t sure what to do. A part of her didn’t want to take these people’s drugs, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be given a choice. She could try carefully, just to see maybe what it did…
Hesitatingly, she took a small lick, even though she doubted that would do anything…
Hastily, almost defiantly, she threw the pill back onto the tray. She knew that taste!
Heart racing, she felt the faint remains of the drug on her tongue. Their pills, their mind-altering thing that turned her into a soulless zombie… They wanted to give it to her, too. They were just the same, how could she be so dumb? She also knew what the other pill was, the sexual desire suppressor.
Hang on.
Natalia breathed through and told herself to think logically. Why would they give her the sex pill now, there was no point in it outside of a mission? Why would they want her to take the mind pill, that was likely to turn her against them? Why only one of the mind ones when she ought to take at least three?
She turned the questions around over and over again, but couldn't get to a solution. Either, she concluded, they were making the exact same pills, or… they had taken the ones from her backpack.
That made no sense either…
Finally, she decided to change perspective. This wouldn’t get her any further. What if this were outside, if all of them were on a mission? If she was them, had just taken someone prisoner, why would she give them the pills in their… Wait, that was it!
Natalia nodded to herself. They had taken in a perfect stranger and found unnamed pills in their backpack. What else to assume than a medical issue, that she needed these pills, maybe even to survive. With the small difference that the Red Room would never have taken anyone in, it was perfectly logical to do this.
Contently, Natalia got up and put the tray back into the flap, pills untouched. Even if she was wrong about their motives, there was no way she’d take the mind pills, and if they tried to force it down her throat.
The flap closed, the tray moving upwards audibly. Natalia went back to the bed, sitting down like before. She fixed her eyes on the camera outside. She was being watched. She had to stay professional.
She suppressed a sigh. This was going to be a long night.

◄◄◄►►►

Another tray came out of the wall, as large a portion as yesterday. Natalia got up obligingly. The room was spinning, whether from blood loss, lack of food, or sleep deprivation was hard to say. She took the tray, sat down again, and set to work. She didn't feel any more patient force her hands to eat in handcuffs, but she’d starve otherwise and at least it would keep her busy and distract her from the stinging pain in her side that felt increasingly urgent.
She worked, concentrated, with discipline, forcing the food down her throat like medicine, like a punishment. Her will of self-perseverance had a hard time fighting against five different voices that all wanted her to stop for different reasons.
She managed around half of it, then put the tray back. Maybe they’d think she was ungrateful, but she just couldn’t do anything more. No pills on it this time. They had watched, then, seen that she had refused them openly.
Her wound hurt so badly…
She sat down on the bed again, moving her trembling fingers in the handcuffs to keep the blood in circulation. Her wrists were sore. She knew where to get a piece of wire, from the inside of her shoe where she stored a paperclip for exactly that reason, but those were good cuffs and they were so firmly fastened that she couldn't wriggle out of them. Not easily anyway. Probably she would have managed if she had really tried
Not that she meant to free herself, she wouldn’t act up.
They were not the enemy. They were not the… not the enemy…
Natalia blinked. She was so tired… too tired. True, she hadn’t slept for probably three nights in a row but she had managed that while training, surely she should be able to last longer just sitting still… Her wound couldn’t possibly weaken her that badly…
She stifled a yawn. It had come so suddenly… What was wrong with her, she should be stronger than that…
Determinedly, she focused, fighting against the overwhelming desire to lie down and give in to sleep. She wasn’t even sure why she couldn’t fall asleep, but what she was very sure about was what falling asleep in the Red Room would have resulted in and she didn’t want to be punished.
She yawned.
Just a few minutes… they wouldn’t even notice… No, I can’t give in!
“Come on,” she whispered to herself. Stay awake, stay awake, stay awake.
She shivered, feeling cold. A typical reaction to exhaustion. She blinked rapidly to keep her eyes open. This wasn’t natural. Too suddenly, too harshly. She had been injured, starved, and sleep-deprived before, this wasn’t right.
Wearily, she let her eyes wander across the tiny room. The flap… the food… Fuck.
Natalia felt like she was choking, her fists clenched, nails digging into her skin.
So that was it? Poisoning her food?
A fit of toneless laughter shook her body. She came to her feet, tumbling, dazedly staggering to the door to see, see the people out there who waited for her body to be carried away, just waiting for her to drop down… The hall was deserted.
Swaying, Natalia stumbled back to the bed, barely dropping on to it. She had to save herself… But what the use? She couldn’t leave their food forever or she’d die of starvation, slowly and painfully, or they would fire a bullet through her head… She wasn’t in pain now, this would be humane and quick if only she stopped fighting…
It wasn’t that easy, of course. Her mind, trained to fight until the end, urged her to get that poison out of her system and fight herself out of here.
I promised, Natalia thought dazedly, I can’t kill to get out of here… I can’t go anywhere, I can’t do any more harm… They didn’t say they’d leave me alive…
She trembled, her body succumbed to the drug and she sank to the bed, defenselessly.
Let me stop, she begged herself, it’s over, there’s no point in fighting… why fight against a peaceful death…They didn’t hurt me at all, this is the best option I have…
She moved weakly, pulling up her legs, crouching, hands in front of her chest, touching her cheeks.
At least she wouldn’t die in action, on a mission she didn’t want to do.
Her eyelids were heavy, she didn’t force them open after they had closed. She was calmer now, more relaxed. Her own breaths echoed in her ears, regular, quiet, heavy. Her heartbeat added a monotonous thumping to the rising and falling of her chest.
She listened to all of it from far away, slowly passing out into a dark, velvet soft world where nothing could reach her.

◄◄◄►►►

Agent Barton had entered Fury’s office a few minutes earlier. The Director had the camera feeds of Natalia’s cell on the big screen and was watching from his seat behind the desk.
“How is she doing?” Clint asked, observing Natalia finishing her meal.
“Well, she eats this time,” Fury replied. “And here I was, fearing she’d boycott it.”
Clint narrowed his eyes.
“She didn’t eat up, though,” he commented, “which is weird, she seemed pretty hungry yesterday at lunch.”
“She ate enough,” Fury said. “The dose should be more than high enough.”
“What do you mean ‘dose’?” Clint looked at the screen. Natalia had gotten up and put the tray away. She was limping slightly, trying not to put too much weight on her injured side. Fury shrugged.
“She needs medical attention. But I don’t trust her enough to give a doctor’s life into her hands.”
“But she wouldn’t…”
“She’s cornered, in pain, and possibly really desperate. She’s unpredictable. Nothing she has done so far suggests she will act up, but I’m better safe than sorry.”
“So you drugged her food?”
Fury nodded.
“As I said, she barely ate anything yesterday, so it didn’t work out. We increased the dose, which makes it sure to work, but also less subtle. It will only take a few minutes.”
Clint sat down on the edge of the table, something which Fury accepted without comment.
“She’ll hate it,” Clint said. “She didn’t even let Charlie give her a painkiller, for whatever reason, she’ll definitely not be a fan of being knocked out by drugs.”
Fury shrugged. “Few people are, but I’m left pretty much out of options. That wound needs to be treated properly, but I will not risk our Doc’s life. Besides,” he added. “I’d be surprised if she noticed. She hasn’t slept at all last night, nor the night before, she must be dead tired anyway. It’s just a push into the right direction.”
“Something’s happening." Clint leaned forward. "She’s yawned, I think.”
Fury nodded. “Good.”
The two men watched Natalia silently for a while. How she yawned subtly, straightened herself, shivered, obviously trying to stay awake.
“Well, she’s definitely fighting against it,” Clint commented tensely.
“Oh, come on, kid,” Fury murmured. “Don’t make it harder for yourself, just stop fighting.”
“Did she guess something’s wrong?”
Fury didn’t reply. Natalia’s eyes rested on the flap in the wall and her body tensed, panic in her every muscle.
“I think she has just put two and two together,” Fury said, sighing.
“Fuck,” Clint exclaimed, immediately understanding what that meant. “She has no idea what she has just taken, she has no idea it’s harmless!”
Natalia rose, staggering like she could barely stand on her feet. She wouldn’t even be able to catch her own fall, the handcuffs. Seeing her body control fail and leave her defenseless made a lump come to Clint’s throat. Instinctively, he knew it was wrong for this woman to lose control over herself. This was not what he had brought her here for.
“Fury, that’s torture! Can’t you see, she thinks we’re killing her!”
“I did not intend that, Barton!” Fury snapped.
Natalia dropped onto the bed, unaware she was looking up to a second camera built into the ceiling. Her eyes were wide, defiant, but incredibly tired at the same time, and it was clear she wouldn’t win this fight.
“Come on,” Fury said quietly. “It’s not that hard, just stop fighting.”
Look at my boss talking to a camera, Clint thought, amused.
Natalia’s eyes closed as if she had heard him. She lay still, curled up, arms protectively in front of her chest.
“Not just yet,” Fury said, “But she won’t hold up much longer.”
He closed the feed and pressed his comm.
“20 minutes,” he said.
He turned back to the black screen.
“Well, at least this way she’ll get some sleep,” he murmured, sighing deeply. He turned to Clint sharply.
“Agent Barton, is there an actual reason for you to be here?”

◄◄◄►►►

Doctor Abryann Randall wasn't exactly what you called a persona. She was, in fact, the perfect formula for a spy, average in height and weight, not standing out if she didn't choose to, in her mid-to-late forties. Right now, in her white jacket, dark brown hair loosely in a bun, she was the picture of calming reassurance and competence, which was the main reason why S.H.I.E.L.D agents universally liked her, there were hardly better options for someone to treat your gunshot wound.
Fury hadn’t considered for more than a second whom he should employ with this delicate case, he knew she was the perfect choice.
Before entering the cell, Dr. Randall checked her comm.
“Confirmed,” Agent Hill said. She was sitting in Fury’s office, a tablet in front of her, observing the camera feeds from above. Agent Coulson and Fury were present as well, comms linked to the doctor’s, but they couldn’t watch what was happening in the cell, Dr. Randall had firmly insisted on her patient’s privacy, only allowing Hill to observe. She wasn’t afraid, in fact, she had been the first one to point out that drugging Natalia would hardly be necessary.
“She’s asleep,” she said, approaching Natalia’s bed. “Overall, she seems okay, her breathing and heartbeat are pretty regular. I’ll take off her handcuffs now.”
“Maybe you better do that lastly…” Fury said, but her answer was immediate and firm.
“If she were awake and wanted to, she could kill me with or without them, I’m pretty sure. I’m not letting these things cut into her wrists any more than they already have. They’re fastened way too firmly anyway.”
Fury didn’t interject.
Gently, Dr. Randall moved Natalia from her crouched position so she could reach her wound. Apart from a small groan, Natalia didn’t resist. Dr. Randall grimaced at the sight of the blood on the t-shirt.
“God, that looks painful,” she commented, lifting up the shirt. Natalia groaned again as it was moved. Awake or not, the pain was still there.
“That wound has been treated, hasn’t it?” Dr. Randall asked in disbelief. “Did she act up that much at the arrest?”
“No,” Hill answered. “She didn’t resist at all. The strike unit was a bit rough on her.”
“More than just a bit, it looks like,” Dr. Randall said reproachfully, shaking her head. Natalia whimpered again and she took away her hand.
“Oh dear,” she said, more to herself or the sleeping woman than to the others. “I see, it hurts, I see. I’ll give you something against the pain.”
She injected Natalia with a quick-acting painkiller and waited until it kicked in.
“Why the brutality,” she asked. “if there was no reason for it? She must have been in so much pain after what the strike unit did there.”
Hill threw a quick side glance to Fury before she replied.
“It was Rumlow’s unit,” she said.
Dr. Randall nodded grimly, understanding. “I see.”
Slowly, Natalia’s face relaxed a little as the pain wore off and Dr. Randall could finally remove the bandage to see the injury.
“Did Charlie Barton sew this up?” she asked.
“Yes, why?” Fury asked back.
“I’d know those stitches anywhere,” the doctor replied, smiling a little.
She treated the wound properly, nodded approvingly since it didn’t seem infected and the stitches were still mostly intact, and re-bandaged it.
“The injury’s done now, she should get over this just fine. I’d like to take a look at her general state, though, we don’t want to miss another wound or sickness."
Fury nodded approvingly. “Go ahead.”
Carefully, Dr. Randall took a look at Natalia’s body. Firstly, she found the rather deep wound behind her ear, caked in blood and entirely untreated.
She disinfected, sewed, and bandaged it.
“God, is that girl dainty…” she murmured.
“Is there something you can tell from her body?” Fury asked. “Age? Something about her training?”
Dr. Randall scoffed.
“It’s not really that easy, Director. People age differently, people don’t look their age, her physique isn’t a perfect indicator for how old she is.” She sighed. “But well, what I can say is that her body is fully developed, which –probably, not certainly –means that she’s over 16. She’s not a lot older, though, I’d place her somewhere between 17 and 21 if I had to. Of course, petite girls tend to look younger than they are, and she is practically skin and bones, so I really can’t tell.”
“Do you mean she’s underweight?”
“Certainly. I can’t say why, for all we know it might be due to her state of mind...”
“I don’t think so,” Hill said, fixing her ponytail. “She ate like she was starved yesterday, more scared that we’d take it away if you ask me.”
Coulson nodded affirmatively. “I agree, she seemed starved and ashamed to show it.”
Dr. Randall nodded. “I see. At any rate, the fact that she doesn’t finish her meals is an indicator that her body isn’t used to getting a lot at once. If there’s no psychological issue behind it, she should get used to it alright. Offering her easily digestible food would help with that, we’ll see how she takes it in the next days.”
Fury nodded. “I’ll see to it. Anything more?”
Dr. Randall grimaced. “Well, she is pretty toned, she’s obviously trained hard, what more can I say? Other than that…” She carefully moved up the sleeves of Natalia’s shirt. “There are bruises on her arms, quite severe ones. Perfectly symmetrical, which is weird… I’d say they’re no older than two days.”
“Symmetrical, you say?” Fury asked, frowning. “I saw them, yesterday, but they were mostly covered… Does it look like an accident, a fall or something?”
Dr. Randall shook her head decidedly. “No, I don’t think so. A direct fall, even a hard one, wouldn’t cause bruises on both sides, only on the upper arms. It seems more like the result of several direct hits with a blunt instrument. Of course, I can’t be sure,” she added, applying an ointment to the bruises.
“That’s pretty uncommon, though,” Hill remarked, frowning. “Several hits, symmetrically on both sides, and only that? How would that happen on a mission? Either you get one hit and then shield yourself or take over, or you get captured and beaten up, but then you’d surely be hurt worse… Or is that just me?”
Coulson shook his head. “No, I was thinking the same. I don’t think there’s a mission gone wrong in the past few days, it doesn’t add up. What does that tell us, though?”
“The same that the scars tell us.” Dr. Randall’s voice was toneless with shock. Hill breathed in sharply.
“Doc, what’s the matter? What scars?”
Dr. Randall breathed through, still holding up Natalia’s T-shirt.
“The scars that I just found her torso is literally covered in. There are so many of them, cuts of some sort, but nothing I regularly see. Oh my god,” she whispered, shaking her head.
“Are they fresh, too?” Fury asked.
“No, they’re old, Uhm, faded, but…" she sighed, her voice was faltering. "They’ve not healed well either. Like the seams ripped several times. If she was captured she must have been there for weeks, if not months.”
“But wouldn’t we know about that?” Hill asked. “As far as I know, there are few periods between missions that would be long enough, and even then, these wounds would still have to heal. There is a three-month period once, but we assume she’s done a sleeper mission there.”
Coulson nodded. "In my view, we’d know if she was captured at some point. Gossip would spread like a wildfire if someone caught her alive –and lost her again. I can’t get behind the idea of that. However, what I think you have in mind, Doctor, and what I think more plausible, too, is some form of corporal punishment. We shouldn’t forget that we are talking about an organization who, in Miss Romanova’s own words, gave her nothing but a place to sleep and food and, what again did she say when we asked why she hadn’t tried to escape?”
Fury nodded. “She said there was no way that wasn’t suicide.”
Coulson nodded affirmatively. “And why would she say that if these people never touched her? Would she really be so scared of them if they never physically hurt her?”
“I think you’re right, Coulson,” Agent Hill said softly. “It would make sense if they’d done all this to her.”
Dr. Randall nodded. Gently, she covered Natalia’s torso again. Immediately, the young woman turned a little, shielding her chest area with both arms. The movement brought another thing to the doctor’s attention.
“There’s something else…" She sounded almost desperate like she didn't want more to turn up.
“What is it?” Fury asked.
For the first time, Natalia resisted a little bit as Dr. Randall took her arm.
“It’s okay,” the doctor said softly. “I just want to take a quick look, okay? I won’t take long.”
Forehead in concentrated wrinkles, she examined Natalia’s fragile wrist.
“There’s… it’s no tattoo, not really… There’s a sign on her wrist, the skin’s damaged, burnt, I’d say… But there’s no way this happened by mistake.”
“You mean there’s a branding?” Fury asked bluntly. Hill saw Dr. Randall look up to the camera briefly. “Well,” her voice came through the comm uncertainly, “I’ve never seen one, but yes… it might be something like that. It’s definitely an intended shape.”
“What does it look like?”
“Two triangles touching. Like an… hourglass of some kind.”
Fury nodded grimly. “That’s her sign,” he said. “Or their sign, rather. She has an hourglass on her uniform as well.”
“Which probably solves the riddle of who has done it,” Coulson remarked.
“But why?” Dr. Randall shook her head. “Why would anyone do that, that’s simply barbaric!”
Fury shrugged, face hard. “Marking a possession, that’s what it is.”
Again, Hill saw Dr. Randall shake her head in disbelief.
“This is… this is beyond everything I’ve seen so far," she said rather shakily. "These bruises, even these horrible scars, those are signs of abuse. They are brutal, extremely brutal, but in general, I’ve seen things like this before. But this… this isn’t a punishment, not a spontaneous reaction to some “wrongdoing”, you gotta have equipment for that. Someone bought special equipment to mark a person in this brutal way, like… like putting a stamp on an object.” Her voice had grown increasingly incredulous. Now she breathed through, calming herself.
“I want to talk to her,” she said. “As soon as possible.”
“Doc…”
“We have no idea!” Dr. Randall interrupted him firmly. “Scars are just the tip of the iceberg! The physical can always just hint at the state of mind! Nobody can imagine what people capable of these actions will do to the psyche of a teenager or even a child! My bet would be, completely mess it up!”
She had raised her voice and Natalia moved a bit, indicating a defensive pose.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Randall said gently. “I’m being too loud, right? Don’t worry, I won’t harm you.”
With a quiet moan of protest, Natalia tried to free her hand out of Dr. Randall’s. She seemed stressed and tense, the presence and touch of a perfect stranger made her decidedly uncomfortable, even in her sleep. Dr. Randall let go of her hand, letting her patient resume her crouched sleeping position.
“Alright,” she said softly. “It’s okay now, I’ll leave you alone for today, I know it’s been a lot.”
She straightened herself.
“I’ll come up to you, I don’t think there’s more to be seen that I can’t look at tomorrow and I’m stressing the girl out to no end as long as I’m here. She’s pretty exhausted, a bit of sleep will be good for her.”
“Okay,” Fury said shortly. He understood where she was coming from. No matter what someone had done, they could simultaneously be victims, too and Dr. Randall had a special soft spot for young abuse victims since she had worked with quite a few of them in one of her former jobs in foster care.
Everything he had learned so far clearly painted the picture of someone being turned into a killer and thus not entirely responsible for her actions, and apparently there had been some level of coercion, too. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel sorry for her about that.
Still, there were always two kinds, those who had gone or been led astray and could be brought back easily because it was what they wanted, those with some sort of functioning sense of moral, but then also the ones that had been through so much that they deserved compassion alright, but who were still too much of a threat because they had adapted the indoctrination and couldn’t break out of it anymore. One kind could be helped, the other had to be stopped.
And quite frankly, Fury did not know which category Natalia was.

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

:)
Why'd I make Rumlow evil, you ask? Well, I certainly can't tell you XD Somehow, I just get that vibe from him.
Poor Nat is so scared all the time...
Tbh the thing I'm most interested in though, what do you guys think of Dr. Randall? Because she's such a great character to write as an addition to the S.H.I.E.L.D trio, and for some reason I really have a soft spot for nice doctor figures, I don't know why.
Anyway, I hope you have a great week, and I'll see you for the next chapter :D

Chapter 14: S2/14: Guidelines

Summary:

S.H.I.E.L.D stays cautious in their manner towards Natalia, unaware of how much their behavior confuses her. Natalia is more and more helpless what to believe, are they just trying to lure her in, or could anything they present as their norms be real?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Guidelines

◄◄◄►►►

Long before she was fully awake, Natalia could feel her body and understood she was most likely not dead. For a while she lay perfectly still, just existing, still quite dozy from what must have been a long sleep.
Finally, she opened her eyes, blinking. Still the cell, no big surprise.
What was a surprise, though, was the blanket that covered her body. Confused, Natalia felt the soft material between her fingers. Someone had tucked her in while she had been asleep… which meant somebody had been in here.
Only now she realized her wound had stopped hurting almost completely. Touching it, she felt a new bandage without dried blood on it. Even to the direct touch, it didn’t hurt as much.
She felt a hint of regret as she shoved off the blanket and sat up to look at herself. Her handcuffs had been removed, too, they had left marks, but her wrists had been treated with a pleasant-smelling ointment. Her boots were standing next to the bed which was decidedly more comfortable than sleeping in them. A pile of dark clothing had been left for her, too, but they had not undressed her except for the boots.
Natalia shook her head in confusion. Every wound she had, whether caused by them or older had been carefully treated, she had even been given a blanket and they had removed her shoes, maybe to make her more comfortable. How were they doing this for a prisoner? She wasn’t that badly injured, why were they being so considerate?
Shaking the thoughts, she noticed just how much better she felt. She’d certainly been given some sort of medication, definitely a painkiller –for what reason? There was certainly no need to prevent her from screaming here?
She changed into the new set of clothing, which was pretty baggy, but not bloody, saw to a bit of hygiene while she was at it, and then settled on the bed again.
She felt a lump in her throat for no real reason.
They honestly believed it was necessary to drug her before having her examined. They honestly thought she could attack their doctor who meant to treat her –for what reason even?
What kind of monster, what kind of stupid monster would do that? Did they really think that of her?
And why on earth, Natalia thought, would they even want to treat me at all if they do?

◄◄◄►►►

Two days passed, both in a very similar manner. Natalia sat on the bed, ate when there was food, one time it would be drugged and she would be examined while she was asleep. She wasn’t overly happy with the arrangement, the fact that she was completely at the doctor’s mercy was very uncomfortable, but she couldn’t complain about it and wouldn’t have dared to do so anyway. Another thing that bothered her was the complete inactiveness. She hardly moved at all, unless for getting her food, and that was surprisingly hard to bear. She was so used to moving constantly, sitting still for this long was unfamiliar.
Despite being quite lost in thought, she immediately heard the sound of the elevator and straightened, senses sharpened. Not that she could really do anything in this cell, but she was ready for defense as a few people approached her cell. Only half of her was surprised when she saw the man with the eyepatch. He’d want to interrogate her, maybe he would even hint as to how they would continue.
“Leave us alone,” he told the guards and they disappeared silently, surely standing just a few feet away to intervene if necessary.
“Miss Romanova,” he said simply.
“Sir?” It was a half-question, Natalia was unsure about the correct addressing. Barton had said ‘boss’ if she remembered correctly, but that would hardly do for her.
He laughed humorlessly.
“Look at that, a formal addressing. I almost expected being shouted at.”
Natalia frowned.
“I’m sorry?”
Fury got himself a chair and sat down in front of the cell. Natalia was sitting on her bed as always, perfectly straight, not moving.
“I meant you are surprisingly polite for your position,” he said, unfortunately not really solving the riddle for Natalia at all.
“I’ve been trained to be polite towards figures of authority, Sir,” she replied insecurely.
Fury nodded. “That’s great, but I’m not an authority figure for you right now. In fact, as far as language is concerned, you have a jester’s license to some degree now that you’re a prisoner.”
It wasn’t that Natalia didn’t know the expression he used, it was simply that she had no idea what he meant by it.
“I don’t have any desire to get punished for disrespect, Sir,” she said stiffly.
Fury raised an eyebrow, his eyepatch moved a little.
“And you think I would punish you for what sort of disrespect in what way exactly?”
Uncomfortably, Natalia shrugged.
“I don’t know. I haven't learned about your methods yet, Sir."
“Would you mind leaving the ‘Sir’ at the end of every sentence?” Fury asked. “I don’t need proof of your courtesy after every second word, you can cut it down a bit.”
Natalia nodded, subdued. “I’m sorry,” she breathed.
“Never mind.” Fury went back to what he was here for. “We should have a conversation, Miss Romanova. There is a lot of things that we didn’t discuss last time, and since we have established you don’t wish to shout at me first, we can get to the point, alright?”
Natalia nodded silently. Fury continued.
“Firstly, there’s something I want to know. There were two boxes of pills in your backpack, both unlicensed as far as we could see. You got them with your first meal and recognized them, I think, but you didn’t take them. Would you care to tell me why and what these pills are?”
Natalia had half expected this to be brought up. She straightened herself further.
“I cannot tell you anything about the ingredients, I’m afraid, I don’t know them myself. However, I’ve not been given either of them for a medical issue which is why I don’t take them. I don’t want to take drugs I don’t need." She breathed through. "The long white ones are meant to suppress sexual desires, I believe, but I never needed that. And the smaller ones…" She hesitated visibly. "It’s not easy to pinpoint what they do… but I don’t like what they do, so I stay away from them.”
There was a new undertone in her voice, something Fury would have described as ‘and you won’t make me’. She had strong feelings about these pills, but she was not very precise about them.
“Now which way is it?” he asked. “Do you or don’t you know what they do?”
She hunched her shoulders a little.
“I don’t know exactly. But I know they have an influence on my mind and I prefer my mind to be left alone.”
Fury raised an eyebrow again. Bold thing to say, he thought, I’ve rarely met someone whose mind has so obviously been tampered with. Her explanation seemed genuine, though she wasn’t saying everything she thought about the pills, but he decided to leave it at that.
“I see,” he said simply. “That explains it. I suppose your… superiors did not know you weren’t taking them, hence the third box?”
Natalia nodded, averting her glance slightly. “I wasn’t supposed to make that decision,” she said quietly. “But I didn’t feel like I had a choice.”
Fury gladly took up that statement.
“Like when you deserted? You didn’t feel like you had a choice but to leave?”
Natalia looked at him directly for the first time. Her eyes were dark and serious. She shook her head.
“I didn’t have a choice. I spared my target, and then I didn’t even try to kill Agent Barton. The moment I made that decision there was no way back.”
Calm, matter-of-fact. She was dead serious.
“Would you have been punished for those mistakes?” he asked, in his mind the examination of Dr. Randall, the countless wounds.
Natalia frowned a little.
“Of course,” she said.
“In what way?” A cautious question on his side, he wasn’t sure how open she would be about the abuse.
She merely shook her head, shivering slightly.
“I can’t even imagine,” she replied quietly, clearly trying not to think about that punishment that was beyond imagining, even for her.
Fury nodded.
“So you thought we would treat you better than they did?”
Natalia was quiet for a few seconds.
"I thought… Agent Barton offered me to come with him," she said then, hesitatingly. "I would never… Even when I was way more loyal towards them than I have been lately, I would have never suggested anyone come there. He seems… Agent Barton seems… not very afraid.” She hesitated, then asked rather shyly. “Was he punished for bringing me here?”
Fury was slightly surprised but didn't show.
“Do you think he was?”
“I couldn’t say,” she said after a pause, a helpless expression quickly passing over her face. “I’m sorry, I do not understand the way you work.”
“What about it?”
She didn’t quite look at him, turning away as if expecting a hit or at least harsh words, eyeing him anxiously. Apparently, an ‘I don’t know’ had not been accepted as an answer where she came from.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered apologetically.
“No need.” He shook his head slightly. “Just say what you think.”
Natalia bit her lip. “He didn’t seem to be afraid of punishment,” she said slowly. “And there is no reason to take one for me. At the same time, he failed his mission.”
“And failing a mission wasn’t a thing they took particularly lightly?”
“No, not particularly.”
Fury shifted his weight.
“So, just so you know, Barton was put on desk duty for a few weeks, which could be counted as punishment, at least for an active person like him. He certainly thinks of it that way.”
Natalia frowned.
“Does that mean he is not allowed to leave?” she asked, confused.
Fury shook his head.
“Of course not, he’s no prisoner. It means he doesn’t get any field missions for a bit, nothing more. You see, Miss Romanova, I am perfectly aware that you are a dangerous woman, and there are few agents whose call I would have taken so seriously. You are attractive and can be extremely manipulative if you choose to. Agent Barton, however, isn’t a man to be misled easily. If he gives an assessment on a person, I will consider it very carefully.”
“But you do not think he was right about me, do you?” Natalia’s voice was strained, desperate to finally get a clear answer. “You don’t believe I deserve it.”
“Do you?” Fury asked back. “Do you believe you deserve a second chance?”
She had not expected the question. For a few seconds, she stared at him, puzzled, before she lowered her eyes and shook her head.
“Why not?” he asked. She didn’t look up.
“I have done a lot of bad… things,” she replied quietly. “People who were 100 times more deserving of it than me did not get a second chance. Why would I?”
“You realize just because someone deserves something doesn’t always mean they get it?”
Now she looked up. “I’m sorry?”
“Sicknesses, death, catastrophes, it deprives people of second chances they might deserve. You can’t take that as a reason to give no one a second chance per se. The world is just not fair."
He wasn’t sure if she had understood him. She had shown a certain sense of fairness, though.
“Do you understand what I mean?”
“I think I do, Sir,” she said hesitatingly. “I’m not sure, though," she added rather hastily as if he would ask her to explain it. "I’m sorry.”
Fury shook his head.
“There’s no issue with that. Maybe think it over a little. You don’t need to apologize.” He frowned. “You are worried I could punish you for not understanding, aren’t you?”
She looked away, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“You might, for all I know, Sir.” Adding, hastily. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be insulting, I just…”
Again, Fury shook his head.
“You’re suspicious, why wouldn’t you be. Let me just make my methods a bit more clear. And the first thing is, for hell’s sake you are allowed to move! One could think you were made of stone.”
Indeed, Natalia had sat still the entire time, only moving her head when necessary. It had been creeping him out ever since he’d sat down.
Now she flinched a little as he raised his voice and gave up the pose. She pushed aside a strand of hair and then started nervously moving her fingers in her lap.
“Were you not allowed to move with them?”
“Not always,” she answered softly. “Sometimes they would tell me not to. I didn’t know… I didn’t want to do anything wrong.”
“I see. Consider that to be abolished. You can move however you want in this cell, as long as you don’t dig a tunnel if you understand."
She nodded. “Thank you, Sir.”
Never had a thank you sounded so wrong in Fury’s ears. Someone had literally and genuinely thanked him for letting her move her fingers.
He decided to move on.
“I have another question,” he said. “Is it correct that your first mission was the murder of Samuil Stepanovitch in 2001?”
Natalia nodded without hesitating. “My first solo mission,” she added. “I assisted on others before, as practice.”
"I see. So in the four years you have been active, have you ever been captured, held hostage, or something of the kind? Severely injured by hostiles, anything?"
Natalia frowned a little, not understanding the point of the question, but then shook her head.
“No, Sir.”
“You have spent these years only on missions and at that place you were trained in?”
“Yes, I have.”
That proves that they caused the wounds on her chest, Fury thought with an internal shudder. Imagine being treated like that and still take years to escape that place.
“If I gave you a collection of the missions we have accredited to you, would you be able to correct and complete it?”
A small hesitation.
“I think I could, for the most part, Sir.”
Fury nodded contently.
“I might do that in a few days,” he said, getting up. “Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Romanova.”

◄◄◄►►►

Fury was thoughtful when he left Natalia. She hadn’t lied, not once, as far as he could tell. Coulson and Hill who had listened from upstairs also thought so. Everything Barton had said about her so far had been confirmed. Also, she was taking full responsibility for her crimes, hadn’t blamed the organization in the least, and her expression of guilt seemed pretty genuine as well.
Let’s see, he told himself, let’s see how it all goes on.

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia clenched her teeth and finished her plié on the beat. Her wound, only a week old, complained at every movement, but she didn’t stop. She had danced with a ripped open chest and with a sprained ankle, there was no way she would allow a single wound to immobilize her. Once more.
She started over, playing the music in her head. A dance of Petrovitch’s, naturally, she didn’t have her own. But she might as well change that part that she had never liked. Let’s do a grande plié instead… ouch. But much better. 7… 8… not that high for today, perhaps…
Natalia stopped and put a hand on her wound. She would have never dared that in training, but there was no one to punish her now. Natalia nodded to herself. Yes, no one would hit her for this.
It hurt, though, the wound was throbbing beneath her fingers, she could feel fresh blood on the bandage. Possibly she had even ripped the seams a little.
Just when she started arguing with herself whether or not going on was stupid, a metallic sound indicated it was lunch –or maybe dinner? –time anyway. She was completely confused about the time by now, they had changed the position of the drugged meal a few times, but she thought it might be this one that would knock her out.
She ate more quickly than usually, the wound really troubled her and whether or not she liked to admit it, she was relieved to get a painkiller and get a break from the pain for some time.
She shouldn’t have trained. It was madness, why had she done that? There was no one forcing her to hurt herself.
She finished the meal, something she managed only occasionally, usually, she tried to eat up the drugged one (if she calculated it right) and leave something from the other meals. Their portions were so big…
She lay down carefully, trying not to fight against the drug and just let it happen.
To distract herself, she went over the list again in her mind, the list of her missions which Fury had given her, asking her to correct mistakes, add the mission directive, the payment, and additional missions that they might not know about. She had spent a full day with it. Some things had been fairly easy, for example, that she hadn't killed the Matongo children or what the mission directive for the hospital fire had been. There had been things she had felt tempted to add, justifications maybe, but she didn't want to excuse her crimes, not trying to make herself seem better than she was and so she only added very few, emotionless comments, saying something along the lines of "There were witnesses I chose not kill, but to knock out instead." She had given it back to Fury and was constantly worrying whether she had forgotten something, or messed up a formulation, or given a wrong impression.
Why did the drug take so long today, though? Normally she would have passed out by now.
There were steps outside, not Fury’s, though, she knew his steps by now.
Hastily, she sat up, backing off to the wall defensively. She didn’t know why she thought they would come to hurt her, but she couldn’t switch off the fear either.
A woman in medical clothing appeared in front of her cell, setting her glasses right. She wore her thick dark hair in a loose bun, and if Natalia hadn’t been so scared by her mere presence, she might have registered the warmth of her smile and the calmness and security radiating from her.
“Good afternoon.” The woman’s voice was soft and friendly. “I’m Dr. Randall. Can I come inside to you, is that okay?”
Two questions too many, too much situation in general. Natalia clenched her fists, but nodded helplessly, because how could she refuse?
When the door opened, she dug her fingers into the mattress, fighting down the urge to run.
Dr. Randall closed the door behind her and stood by it, looking at Natalia. She immediately noticed her tension and protective posture, Natalia didn’t even make a real effort to hide it.
Calmingly, she lifted up her hands.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m just a doctor. No need to be afraid.”
Natalia stared at her, not even trying to argue she wasn’t afraid because she was. Why had they let the doctor in here? Not that she meant any harm, but they couldn’t know that? Natalia decided she preferred being drugged. Her heart was thundering in her chest.
Dr. Randall smiled amiably.
“Do you want to tell me what is rumbling through your mind right now?”
She didn’t come closer, but her whole demeanor was sure and most definitely not scared. She really seemed to be cautious only on Natalia’s account. Natalia gulped.
“Why…?” Her voice was toneless, she had to start over. “Why didn’t they… you… I mean…” she paused, helpless to piece the sentence together properly. “Why wasn’t I drugged today?” she asked finally.
Dr. Randall put on gloves, white gloves. Natalia felt her muscles tense even further.
"Director Fury believes it doesn't pose a risk, since you’re cooperating so well. Also, my job is a lot easier if my patient can help me a little.” She smiled again. “So yeah, this is our official introduction to each other, then. I’ve visited you before, of course, but I was looking forward to talking to you.”
Natalia shifted uncomfortably. “Nice to meet you?” she whispered uncertainly.
Dr. Randall laughed. “Yes, nice to meet you, too. Natalia Romanova, right? Is it okay if I use your first name?”
Natalia nodded, but she would have nodded to anything, she had to prepare for letting this stranger come closer.
“It’s about time I gave you a proper examination next to dealing with that wound of yours,” Dr. Randall said easily. “Speaking of the wound, though, you’re in pain, aren’t you?”
Natalia bit her lip. “A little,” she admitted.
Dr. Randall took a step closer.
“May I come over? Is that okay?”
Natalia who couldn’t deal with being asked for permission for something so complicated, nodded in confusion. Remembering she might be perceived as a threat, she lifted up her hands tensely, almost like surrendering. Dr. Randall stopped again.
“Relax, Natalia, relax. I’ll be looking at your wound, okay? I’m just the doctor, you are in control over your body. I’ll be doing nothing you don’t give me permission for.” She looked at the puzzled young woman. “Oh dear. Not something you are used to, is it?”
Natalia shook her head, took down her hands, and managed to sit still as Dr. Randall approached and put her bag onto the bed next to her. Carefully, she moved to the edge of the bed.
“Would you mind lifting up your shirt for me?”
Quickly, Natalia removed her shirt and rolled down her trousers, slowly finding into a mindset that helped with obeying the doctor’s wishes.
Dr. Randall extended her hand slowly, waiting a few seconds after each inch so she wouldn’t startle her patient. Natalia clenched her teeth as the bandage was removed. As she had guessed, blood had soaked through and the pain seemed to get worse with every second.
“Oh dear.” Dr. Randall grimaced. “That looks pretty bad today…” She frowned. “It’s so much worse than yesterday… Did you put strain on it?”
Natalia looked away. “I tried training a little,” she said quietly.
Dr. Randall looked at her. “What do you mean by training?” She didn’t sound mad… at least Natalia thought so?
“I danced.”
“Oh.” Dr. Randall grimaced again. “I’m sorry, but you really shouldn’t be doing that. I understand the urge to move since your space is so limited, but any sportive activity will affect the healing process negatively. You should wait for at least a few weeks.”
Natalia nodded, subdued. “I’m sorry… I won’t do it anymore.”
“Great.” Dr. Randall smiled, preparing an injection. “No sedation, just a normal painkiller. Speaking of sedation, you’ll have to sleep on your own from now on, without the aid of drugs. Will that be an issue?”
Natalia presented her arm to give her consent for the injection.
“No, I can sleep without drugs.”
“Great,” Dr. Randall said again, disinfecting. She looked up for a moment, smiling.
“You’ve probably been told already, but your hair is such a beautiful color. I dyed mine, you know, when I was younger, but it doesn’t take well to bleach… It is your natural hair, isn’t it?”
Natalia nodded, confused by the sudden switch of topics.
“Yes, it is.”
“Enviable. Are you happy with it, or are you more of an ‘Anne of Green Gables’ type?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know ‘Anne of Green Gables’… It’s a book, isn’t it?”
Dr. Randall nodded. “It was my favorite as a kid… It still is, so lovely. The main character, Anne, she has red hair, and she wishes it was auburn instead. And then there was little me, wishing for red hair instead of brown… You haven’t read it, then?”
Natalia shook her head. Maybe the book thing was supposed to be a distraction from the injection?
“What is it about?” she asked, figuring it would be the polite thing to do.
“About a little Canadian girl, Anne. She’s an orphan and gets taken in by Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert. They don’t want her at first, there’s been a mix-up, they actually wanted a boy to work on their farm –it takes place over 100 years ago, adoption works differently than today, of course." –At this point, Dr. Randall placed a Band-Aid on the small wound the injection had left and gently started bandaging the bigger injury again. "But they keep her anyway and start growing fond of her, she’s such a lively and lovable girl and very hard to resist. The book follows her through life, so to speak. It’s such a heartwarming story, it makes me cry every time. You aren’t much of a reader?”
Natalia had enjoyed the short period of listening a lot. Only reluctantly, she joined in again.
“No… I do enjoy reading, I just don’t have a lot of time for it.”
“And what kind of books do you read if you find a bit of time?”
Natalia shrugged. “Mainly classics, national works of different countries, things that are considered general knowledge… A lot of science, too. Usually things I needed for a cover.”
“And do you have a favorite?”
Natalia thought for a few seconds. “No, I couldn’t say I do.”
“Well, there’s no problem with that,” Dr. Randall commented, taking out a stethoscope. “My favorite story is the Snow Queen, by Hans Christian Andersen. It’s a good tale about growing up. This will be a little cold. Breathe deeply, please.”
Obediently, Natalia breathed in and out regularly. She got goosebumps from the cold metal on her skin, but nevertheless, she found her muscles had relaxed a little and she could breathe more freely than in the beginning. Apparently, Dr. Randall had managed to calm her, if that had been her intention. Immediately, Natalia felt different emotions take over. She had let her guard down, she had allowed herself to be vulnerable, fear was what kept her safe… No, no, she didn’t want to think like that anymore…
“Does the story end well?” she asked tensely to distract herself. “Anne of Green Gables, I mean?”
Dr. Randall chuckled. “Who am I to spoil the ending for you? No, I’m joking. But if you like, I can bring the book with me tomorrow and you can read for yourself. Would you like me to?”
Natalia hesitated, then she nodded. This was a kids’ book, there wouldn’t be too many weird ideas in there, would there?
"If you like," she replied politely.
Dr. Randall nodded and offered her a tube of ointment.
“That’s for the bruises on your arms. Do you want me to put it on or would you rather do it yourself?”
Natalia wanted to do it herself. Carefully, she put the oily substance on her arms.
"Do those hurt less than they did in the beginning?" Dr. Randall asked, sitting down on the bed, waiting for her to finish.
Natalia nodded. “They’re much better already.”
“That’s good. They seem to heal well. Is there anything I missed to treat until now?”
“No, not as far as I know.”
The doctor nodded, but her face was serious. “Those scars on your torso,” she asked carefully. “I know they are old, but they must have been pretty severe when they were fresh.”
Natalia hunched her shoulders a little at the thought of the whip that had torn apart her skin.
“I can’t judge how severe they were,” she said, uncertainly. “They were painful, that’s all I know.”
“I bet they were.” Dr. Randall shook her head slightly, or maybe Natalia had imagined that movement. She definitely noticed Natalia’s discomfort, though.
“I’m sorry. You don’t want to talk about what happened, do you?”
It didn’t sound like a command to talk… Natalia hesitated, biting her lip.
“No… I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Okay,” Dr. Randall said casually and handed her shirt back to her. Relieved, Natalia put it back on.
"The painkiller, by the way." Effortlessly, Dr. Randall had switched topics. "Is the dose too low? Does it hurt a lot after the injection?"
Natalia frowned. “No, it doesn’t hurt at all…”
“Really?” Dr. Randall was surprised. “I would’ve assumed… You know, I didn’t want to give you a high dose because I didn’t know how you’d take it, but it’s pretty low for, well, for non-civilian patients.”
Natalia tilted her head. “I’m sorry, why would I need more than a civilian?”
“Because of your profession,” Dr. Randall explained. “Regular injuries usually mean that a low dose won’t do as much, like an immunization. Also, a lot of spies tend to take more painkillers than they should, to be honest. Apparently, you have been responsible, though.”
It wasn’t phrased as a question, but Natalia assumed it to be one anyway.
“No, not really,” she said carefully. “I mean, I can’t really be immune, I was never given a painkiller until now. It wasn’t really me being responsible.”
Dr. Randall looked, confusion on her face. “Did you just say you were never treated with a painkiller?”
Natalia shook her head.
“But… but you were injured before.”
“Yes, but… I think it was considered a waste.”
Confused, she noticed that what she was saying was clearly upsetting Dr. Randall for a reason she didn’t understand.
"A waste? Now, what do you mean by that?"
Natalia had to think for a moment. For her, the rules of the Red Room were so self-evident and unchangeable that she found it hard to put them into words for a stranger.
“Well, injuries are results of mistakes I make,” she said slowly. “They should be used for learning not to make these mistakes again. If I were given a painkiller, there wouldn’t be a lesson I could learn.”
Dr. Randall shook her head in disbelief. “That’s what you were taught? I don’t think I’ve ever disagreed so heavily with a concept.”
Natalia was taken aback. Wasn’t the concept perfectly logical? Like, sure, you could disagree, but it wasn’t wrong?
“You see,” Dr. Randall continued, “Here at S.H.I.E.L.D, we don’t regard injuries as mistakes that need to be punished in some way. Injuries happen, sometimes within, sometimes out of our control. I have to treat the best agents sometimes, that doesn’t make them weak or anything. I want you to always tell me when you’re in pain, okay?”
“Okay,” Natalia said quietly.
“Good.” Dr. Randall smiled. “As far as examination goes, I’m finished now. You’re in good health, generally, except for your weight. I know you’ve started to eat more in the last few days, but you’re still a little underweight. Was giving you enough to eat also considered a waste by them?” She grimaced, realizing her snarky tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be sarcastic. I get angry when people aren’t treated well and the think with the painkiller is outright subhuman if you ask me.”
Natalia didn’t return her smile and she became serious right away.
“I’m sorry, Natalia. Is there something about food? Do you have trouble with eating?”
Natalia shook her head.
“No, just when I’ve not eaten regularly for a while, but that’s… normal, isn’t it?”
Dr. Randall nodded. “Yes, okay. I just thought you might have an issue that I just unintentionally… If I say something wrong, don’t be shy to tell me, okay?”
Natalia nodded, neither fully understanding nor actually intending to do what she had been asked. Too high risk of annoying the doctor, she’d rather take the remark and hide it.
“Alright,” Dr. Randall said. “Is there anything you’d like me to take a look at, or something you’d care to discuss? It doesn’t need to be medical.”
Natalia shook her head, looking away shyly.
“Okay. This isn’t your only opportunity. I’m here to talk, if you want to, just start, I will listen. You don’t have to, but you may.”
After Natalia’s hardly visible nod, Dr. Randall got up and left for the door. Casually, posture staying perfectly calm, she turned her back on the assassin, unlocking the door. She didn’t even hurry to lock it again. The cell felt strangely empty to the small part of Natalia that hadn’t minded the doctor being around.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dr. Randall waved and was gone.
Natalia leaned back, pleasantly feeling her muscles relax because the painkiller had reached its full effect. She was surprised as to how regular her heartbeat was. She had really not freaked out that much… An interesting acquaintance, Natalia thought, immediately fighting down the thought that this personality was too pleasant and nice to be genuine. Maybe people just were like that, even doctors. Maybe she was the only one whose personality was never really real.

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia almost waited for Dr. Randall the next day after her lunch. Surprisingly, the few minutes with such a seemingly sincere and nice person had noticeably lifted her spirits for the whole day. Of course, there might be some other reason for that, but Natalia didn’t think so. It would be stupid to pretend that having people around did have some sort of appeal to her even though she was very cautious and afraid, too.
When the doctor finally came, Natalia almost wished she was more badly hurt so she would stay longer. Again to her surprise, she stayed relatively calm when the door was opened and when she was treated. After being finished, Dr. Randall gave her her characteristic warm smile and handed her a book that had almost been read to death.
“That’s the book, Anne of Green Gables. Don’t worry about ripping pages, it’s so old, it just happens, no matter how careful one is. Can’t wait to see how you like it.”
Natalia took the book, honestly surprised by the act of generosity. She hadn’t forgotten about the book, but she was surprised that Dr. Randall had thought of it.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
"You must be getting bored, having nothing to do." Dr. Randall smiled. "Since I forbade you to move, least I can do is give your mind something to do."

◄◄◄►►►

The next week passed quickly. Natalia finished Anne of Green Gables and all of its sequels which Dr. Randall had in a beautiful vintage set. The books were easy to read, no hidden meaning, no political or social commentary, at least not on the present, and Natalia loved the way they helped her mind to rest. She managed not to draw the comparison between her and Anne, one girl taken by a loving family, the other by an organization… and just read. Midweekly, the seams were removed and the wound was left to heal on its own. Dr. Randall kept bringing her books, seemingly delighted that she liked them.
On Sunday, though (according to Natalia’s uncertain calculation), she came a bit late, smiling wearily and Natalia immediately knew something was off.
“Are you okay?” she asked cautiously, but genuinely worried.
Dr. Randall put down her bag and dropped onto the bed with a deep sigh.
“Yeah, I’m good. It’s been hell of a day, you know, really stressful… Three agents, five bullets, one doctor… You get my point?”
Natalia nodded. “Did they make it?” she asked, unsure if she was allowed to ask about the agents’ state.
“One is still unstable. I’m pretty confident, though, he’s a fighter and otherwise in good health. My colleague is with him now. Picked the perfect day to be stuck in a traffic jam… one of these days. I’m good, though, it was just a bit of a mess.” She smiled and pointed at Natalia’s side. “Let’s get started, though. Getting better?”
Natalia nodded, removing her shirt. Dr. Randall looked at the wound, nodded approvingly, placed an injection, re-bandaged. Natalia routinely held the bandage and did the few things she always did to help. She felt a little guilty not to have told Dr. Randall that she could treat the wound herself earlier, then she wouldn’t have had to come and waste her time today… but she had never asked, so…
They didn’t speak, but Natalia wasn’t really bothered by the silence.
"Anything you want to talk about?" Dr. Randall asked like she always did. Usually, Natalia always shook her head, but today she actually had something.
“I don’t want to be inappropriate…” she said cautiously.
“Don’t worry,” Dr. Randall said easily. “I can always say ‘no comment’ if it is, I won’t be offended, I promise.”
Natalia nodded.
“Uhm, it’s just… will I be told when a decision is made about my future?”
Dr. Randall nodded. “I see your point. I’m quite sure you will be told. I’ll ask Director Fury, just to be sure, okay?”
“Thank you,” Natalia said with a small, grateful nod.
“Anything more?” the doctor asked gently, moving her glass up her nose.
Natalia shrugged. “Maybe you could remind Agent Barton… Only if you see him anyway, it’s not that important… but he promised someone to make a visit and he… he seems to have forgotten these visits before… I don’t know, it’s probably stupid… never mind.”
“I’ll remind him of a visit he promised to make,” Dr. Randall summed up, amused. “I think I also know who he wanted to visit. That’s very considerate of you, Natalia.”
Natalia shrugged. “Maybe he’s already made that visit anyway, I just thought the other guy might get angry if he didn’t… Just a thought really.”
Dr. Randall smiled warmly. “I’ll tell him,” she reassured, and Natalia confusedly concluded that she had said something right, even though she didn’t really know what it was.

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

I never thought I would say it, but I got a Marvel post-credit scene stuck in my head, the Hawkeye finale was pretty damn amazing.
Wait... ah yes, this chapter XD I actually don't have a lot to say about it except that I love Anne of Green Gables myself and I find the whole book thing very wholesome. Poor Nat catching up a little bit...

As kindly suggested by @Michelle_kate and @mizu97, I'll upload an extra chapter on the 25th as a Christmas gift for you guys, I'm very grateful to anyone who's reading this story and I always enjoy reading your comments so so much, so I hope you'll enjoy it :)
For anyone who's celebrating Christmas on the 24th instead, Merry Christmas for then, and to anyone who's not celebrating Christmas at all, have a nice week regardless :)

Chapter 15: S2/15: Life Sentence

Summary:

Time passes by, and while Natalia’s wound keeps healing, her emotional state is less stable. After everything she’s gone through, is the end of her journey really going to be a prison cell?

Music piece: “Am I wrong?” by Nico and Vince

Notes:

Merry Christmas to you, or have a good day regardless, and happy birthday to @mizu97 :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Life sentence

◄◄◄►►►

At her visit today, Dr. Randall brought Natalia the first volume of ‘Harry Potter’.
“Another classic,” she said. “It’s my sister’s, she’s a bit younger than me and was caught up right in the hype about it. Maybe you’ll like it, too.”
Natalia tried and failed at a smile. Against Dr. Randall’s they seemed so wooden and fake that she felt ashamed.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. She didn’t ask about Fury, not wanting to overuse the doctor’s friendliness. She had voiced the question, the answer wasn’t up to…
“Ah, by the way,” Dr. Randall interrupted her thoughts. “Agent Barton told me to give you his regards and says thank you for the reminder, he won’t forget about it. He also said he hopes the wound’s getting better.”
Natalia nodded. “Thank you.”
“I also talked to Director Fury. He said he is still in the process of deciding, but you will be told when a decision has been made. You can be assured he’ll be fair on you and that you will not be hurt.”
Natalia nodded, looking away. That sounded an awful lot like the ‘quick and painless death’ that Barton had promised her. After all, that would be a fair bargain, not everyone would be so lenient not to let her suffer for what she had done. She felt her inside rebel, wanting to survive as she had always done. But she couldn't go back either, there was no choice for her to make…
“Natalia?” Natalia looked up. “Are you okay?” Dr. Randall asked in a worried tone.
Natalia started nodding, but then she imagined Fury evaluating why he had come to the conclusion to kill her, this perfectly logical conclusion as to why she deserved it, and she shivered with horror.
No, she couldn’t… she couldn’t stand that…
“I don’t… can you… Will you make it unexpected? Please? I know why I deserve it, I don’t need the reasoning, I just… I don’t want to see it coming.” She pressed it out quickly, shamefully, ashamed for being so weak and not able to face the facts. Dr. Randall frowned.
“I’m sorry, what exactly are you talking about? I’m afraid you left out that part…”
Natalia looked at her hands.
“I don’t want to know that I die,” she said, a little more calmly. “I mean, I wouldn’t fight it, but I… I would just rather not know.”
Surprise filled Dr. Randall’s face.
“I’m sorry, why do you think you would die? I said nothing of the sort… Do you think we consider killing you?”
“Agent Barton said if you do, it would be quick and painless,” Natalia replied with a shrug. Also, she added silently, what other option would be there except a life and a death sentence. Certainly not the job thing that Barton conjured up.
Dr. Randall looked at her silently for a while before she said “Okay, that part of the bargain is new to me. I will tell Director Fury what you said and let you know his answer. Until then, please be assured your life isn’t in danger.”
She seemed so serious now…
“Did I say something wrong?” Natalia asked anxiously, hunching her shoulders.
Dr. Randall shook her head. “Oh no, don’t worry. I’m a bit shocked to hear that Agent Barton brought up that possibility, I’ve never heard of anything like that before. I’m sure we’ll have it all sorted out, though, don’t worry.”
Natalia nodded again, but she was not sure if they meant the same thing.

◄◄◄►►►

“Killing her?” Director Fury raised his eyebrows, his eyepatch moving a little. Seeing his disbelief, Dr. Randall breathed out in relief.
“God, the girl shocked me there. There is no such bargain, is there?”
Firmly, almost indignantly, Fury shook his head.
“Certainly not. I wouldn’t go as far as to say she’s helpless right now, but I can’t just kill prisoners without a trial, not outside of mission practice. No, no, the only thing I can do is leave her in there if I decide she’s too dangerous.”
“Have you decided about that yet?”
Fury shook his head.
“Until now I can’t think of a good motive for letting herself be captured, but that alone isn’t enough. I’ll have to talk to her again, I’ll need your evaluation and Hill is looking through the files, trying to get something out of there. So no, I do not know yet.” He shook his head. “She does believe we might kill her at any moment?”
“She even said she deserved it. And, to be fair, you did send someone after her for exactly that reason, it’s not that far-fetched.”
“Well, it’s hardly the same situation now…”
“I know that, but she doesn’t. If you ask me, she doesn’t tend to hope for mercy, maybe doesn’t even allow herself that kind of hope.”
“She really said she wouldn’t fight? She’d let us do that?”
“If you ask me, she totally would.”
“Damn!” Fury exclaimed. “This isn’t even her country… Why would she let us have authority over her life and death? Her self-perception is just scary! What exactly is wrong with that girl?”
Dr. Randall who had been standing in front of his desk sat down. Her face was serious.
“Director, her behavior is not illogical, on the contrary. It’s perfectly on point, everything about her. The belief of being without options, without a way out. Being pretty normal around Clint Barton and completely changing her demeanor as soon as she meets you. Being scared of everyone hurting her, but so ready to take it without defending herself. The way she watches her words, the way she apologizes for literally anything. She refers to herself as an asset, as useful. Do you realize what kind of dehumanization that is?"
“Well, you did put it rather clearly, I see it well enough.”
Dr. Randall nodded, continuing passionately.
“Yes, she doesn’t view herself as a human. She’s been taught she’s worth less than a human being. She’s been taught that she doesn’t have rights, no opinions, no feelings. Just obedience, created to function or being harmed for not functioning. And now there we are and turn everything upside down without explaining it to her, just assuming she understands. What else would you expect than a helpless child, desperately trying to figure out what we want her to be, finding that none of the rules she knows apply.”
“But why would she not understand?” Fury interjected. “She’s a first-class spy, she knows how society works, she can blend into it perfectly."
Dr. Randall shook her head.
“No, Director, her covers can blend into it. For her, her missions most likely take place in a completely different world. Of course, you can’t hit someone for raising their voice, for her cover that makes perfect sense, but for her, exactly that is reality. That might be impossible for us to imagine, but I do get that impression from her.”
Fury raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced. “You seem to have a very clear idea of her state of mind.”
Dr. Randall shrugged. “Of course, I can’t be sure. But I’ve literally had someone say to me in all seriousness ‘Oh, Meg’s husband is treating her so poorly, I can’t understand why she won’t leave him already’ while she had been staying with her own much more abusive husband for years despite everyone else knowing and repeatedly telling her that he was mistreating her." Her face had turned rather grim at the memory. "They think it’s different, their situation, they’re not objective. I bet Natalia would defend these people to some degree, even if we objectively know that there is no justification. Can’t you imagine her saying ‘They might have punished me, but only because I did this or that so it was really my fault’? Doesn’t that fit her?”
Fury had to agree. “It does sound logical and all, but we’re not her superiors, she doesn’t owe us loyalty.”
“Yes, but you don’t realize," Dr. Randall contradicted "that we are just the new owners of a tool-" she shuddered visibly "-gosh, it does sound horrible to say, even just to illustrate… and so, of course, it’s only natural we can choose to kill her without her having a say in it. If you don’t need a tool, you throw it out.”
“But why on earth would someone come to us if they believe they’ll be treated like a tool?" Fury exclaimed in disbelief. "There’s no rhyme or reason to any of this!”
Dr. Randall sighed. “Straight on the point, Director. Even this truly horrifying perception of us, the complete uncertainty of a foreign organization, even this seemed to be the better option to what’s past her. And I can’t even tell you how much that scares me.”

◄◄◄►►►

“First things first,” Dr. Randall said. “A death sentence is out of the question, like I thought. The decision that has to be made is about keeping you here as a prisoner or releasing you.”
Natalia looked up in surprise. So that meant there was actually a chance of leaving this cell alive? She could have shouted at herself immediately. Why get her hopes up, she would need strength for a life sentence, no glimmer of hope that would be shattered.
“I see,” she said quietly. “Thank you for… clearing that up.”
“Oh, don’t mention it. I really had to clear it up, I might have handed in my notice if that had been an option, and I do like this job, so I’m pretty relieved.”
Even if they let me out, Natalia thought gloomily, which they won’t, but even if they did, what would that do for me? No protection in a world that I don’t know and don’t belong in. This or staying in these four walls for the rest of my life which might be damn long if I don’t lose it and kill myself one day…
“Natalia?” Dr. Randall interrupted her thoughts. “You don’t seem… relieved, more like bummed? Is anything the matter?”
Natalia looked away. “No… no… It’s very generous… I’m grateful for it.”
It sounded anything but convincing. Dr. Randall frowned.
“Not even going into how problematic that statement is… What’s wrong, Natalia?”
Natalia hesitated.
“No, it’s just… it’s nothing, really…” She looked up, maybe for the first time meeting Dr. Randall’s eyes without looking away. “Dying isn’t that hard, really. It’s not that I want to die, but… I don’t want to die. It’s very generous, really, I’m just… tired.”
Dr. Randall nodded, forehead in a worried frown.
“I see. You don’t have to tell me, just know that… Dark thoughts are normal and alright, Natalia, just know that I’ll listen to your problems if you’re ready to share them. Don’t let them overwhelm you.”
Natalia nodded, unable to voice any thought, not even a thank you. She just wanted to be alone. Really alone, no cameras, nobody evaluating her steps and actions, just a bit of time to let the composed mask slip and do something to let the despair break way –not that she had any particular action in mind, she just felt so… watched.
A part of her wanted them to decide on death still and just let it be over. She had always been told that life was mercy, probably they thought it was, too, but she felt like she had been burdened with something, like life was a burden and not mercy at all.

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia’s opinion on the matter changed daily, sometimes within mere seconds. Sometimes she was desperate to cling to her life, even a life behind bars, sometimes she was completely apathetic towards it, a take-what-comes sort of mindset, sometimes she thought death would be the best option, despair flooding her like a stream of lava.
The thing that stayed consistent, usually, was that the uncertainty was the worst. She universally agreed with herself that any decision was better than waiting, hoping, begging for a decision.
Her apathetic, downcast mood didn't go unnoticed by Dr. Randall who somewhat helplessly reminded her to eat, tried in vain to lift up her mood and keep her distracted by bringing her books, telling stories of herself, and even allowing Natalia some light sports as long as she did it carefully.
Her wounds were healing well, unmoved by her emotional state.
Natalia was so tired… like the mind pills had made her, except that this time, she wasn’t taking them and the feelings were still there… feelings that she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle for much longer.

◄◄◄►►►

Again, Dr. Randall was standing in Director Fury’s office.
“I do not want to put pressure on you,” she said in a serious tone, “really not, I know it’s a delicate decision to make. I’d only suggest you don’t take longer than necessary. She’s getting better now, taking the literature I gave her, doing a bit of sports, generally engaging more, but the uncertainty is straining her nerves incredibly. I’m not saying it’s not necessary to consider everything carefully, but it’s not something that should be stretched out further than necessary, knowing how it stresses the mind.”
Fury nodded. “Thank you for the inside,” he said calmly. “And thank you for giving me a reason not to put it off further. I’ve been wanting to hold the discussion for a few days, we might as well do it now. I’d like you to give your evaluation as well, Doc, if you don’t mind.”

◄◄◄►►►

INT. conference room –day. Clint Barton and Agent Coulson enter the room, awaited by Fury at the head of the table, Dr. Randall sitting near the window and Hill sorting out her notes. Fury nods at them, silently offering them a seat.

FURY Thank you for coming.

[muted] They all sit. Fury starts explaining a matter to them, Dr. Randall says something, so does Hill, tapping on her files. Clint shrugs, remarking something.
Fury nods, asking them for their opinion. Clint puts up his hand without a second of hesitation, followed by Dr. Randall, Coulson, and Hill who hesitates for a small second. Fury nods, thanking them and they put down their hands. Fury closes the file in front of him, nodding thoughtfully.
[Black]

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia put the brush away and yawned audibly. She was sitting on the bed –her bed- legs crossed, her red hair now freshly combed. She wondered what day it was. For the first time in years, she had stopped counting properly. Somehow, it didn't matter so much, at least for now. Who knew how depressed she’d be tomorrow. It was a continuous up and down. Today was a good day, she’d had a nice breakfast, done a bit of stretching, finished ‘Tom Sawyer’. Not her style, she found Tom to be perfectly unlikable. How could he dismiss the loving family he had for living alone? Obviously, he had never been really lonely.
The elevator doors on the end of the hallway opened. Natalia frowned. Fury couldn’t possibly want to discuss something again, Doctor Randall would come again tomorrow, not as much for the wound anymore but rather for ten minutes of social contact. So who would it be? A new prisoner?
Natalia considered getting up but didn’t. Could be mistaken for her wanting to flee.
The steps approached and Natalia automatically straightened her pose and sat down properly.
It was an agent she remembered from her first encounter with S.H.I.E.L.D, the friendly one with the blue tie. What was his name again? Colden? No, Coulson, that was it.
He remained in front of her cell.
“Miss Romanova?” he said. “I’m Agent Coulson. Do you remember me?”
Natalia nodded. “I do, Sir.”
“Good. Would you mind coming along?”
He gestured ‘come closer’ and she obediently got up, slipped into her shoes, and stepped up on him, observing him through the bars. He smiled at her.
“Director Fury wants to talk to you.”
A sick feeling ran through Natalia’s stomach. So that was it. Her sentence.
Swallowing hard, she watched him unlock the door, then presented him her hands. He looked at them, then back to her face, like he did not understand.
“Oh, handcuffs?” he asked then. She shrugged affirmatively. Coulson shook his head. “No, we don’t need them. Or do you intend to attack me?”
She shook her head. No, she would not attack. She would submit to justice.
“Well then. Just follow me. Don’t mind the guards, there just here for protocol.”
The guard from last time –Rumlow- was not with him, it was a man and a woman whom she had most definitely not seen before. They did not approach her, it seemed like she was allowed to walk on her own this time. Why was there so little security? Probably they thought it didn’t matter if she had put her mind on escape, now that her wound was fully healed.
“Your wounds healed well, I’ve heard?” Coulson was trying to make conversation. He did it easily, though and he seemed so genuinely not concerned that Natalia wondered how well he could read people. Could he tell she was not a threat? Everyone here seemed to see through her, Barton, Dr. Randall –how were they so good at this? Not that she thought she was the only good spy out there, but they especially saw the things that she had always been best at hiding, humanity, vulnerability. Concerning.
“Yes, they did, Sir,” she replied politely.
“You can skip the ‘Sir’. I’m just a normal agent, don’t care much for titles. This way, please.”
Natalia followed him, carefully observing everything around her because observing your surroundings without needing that information later was better than not observing and lacking necessary information afterward. It felt good to be on her feet again, walking around, even though it would most likely be the last time forever.
They passed a few agents whose glances Natalia nervously avoided, certain that their quiet whispers were about her. Her fingers shakily played with the hem of her shirt.
A young, brown-haired agent came towards them, quietly talking through a headset. She stopped as they came closer.
“Coulson, I need you to sign this, please.”
She glanced at Natalia and nodded in acknowledgment of her presence. Natalia nodded back. She knew the woman. She had been with them at the McDonalds, too, but she hadn't been introduced.
Coulson signed something on the tablet she held out to him.
“Thank you.”
"Director Fury said he wanted you to wait in front of his office in twenty minutes or so," Coulson said. "Did he tell you?"
She nodded. “Don’t worry, won’t miss it. Catch you later.” With that, she was gone.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
Coulson led her to another elevator, made of glass and they all entered. No one else was inside. Natalia hesitated, but as she made a step towards the glass front and Coulson didn’t object, she stepped closer, looking out. They were pretty close to the ground, she could see the sandy grey color of the building. There was no way of seeing more of it, the elevator faced towards Washington. She had a faint idea how it had to look and she knew it was called the ‘Triskelion’ for its three towers but then again, as far as she could tell they were in a rectangular building, maybe in another part of the Triskelion, maybe in a different piece of architecture altogether.
She had not counted the floors but the elevator stopped and she saw they had gone up to the very top. Coulson stepped out first, Natalia followed. The guards got ready, too, but Coulson held them back.
“We’re good. I take it from here.”
They didn’t respond but just took the elevator back down. Natalia frowned, so much for protocol…
Coulson made a little gesture –this way. They went down the hallway to the third door on the right. Coulson knocked and peeked in.
“Miss Romanova, Sir.”
“Show her in,” Natalia heard Fury respond. Coulson opened the door for her, putting a hand on her back as he gently guided her in. He did not follow, he just nodded at her as she turned back to him and smiled before he closed the door behind her.
Fury’s office was light and big, glass front on one side, little furniture, just a desk and a hologram screen of sorts. A control panel, for the screen most likely. Spartan and functional. Nothing personal. Natalia grasped all those details within a few moments without even actively thinking about it.
She was standing by the door, hands where he could see them. He looked up from a white laptop.
“I don’t bite.”
She took a few seconds to consider whether that meant to come closer, then she carefully did.
“You wanted to talk to me, Sir?” Her voice sounded hoarse as she spoke.
He nodded. “Take a seat.”
She slipped onto the chair he had offered her, even in a sitting position he still seemed taller than her. She put her hands on the table in front of her, palms flat on the cool surface. Pressing them down kept them from trembling.
Fury shut his laptop and took a tablet instead.
“Before we start, I’d like you to take a look at this. Moscow and surrounding areas, maybe you could help me by encircling where the Red Room Facility is located.” He handed her the tablet.
She looked at the map and recalled what she knew about the Red Room. So, there was a forest… Northeast of it. Therefore… Moscow had to be… South. Hopefully, she was not getting the sun wrong. But East was sunrise and she had often been woken by the sun, so…
She zoomed in and hesitatingly encircled an area.
“It’s not exact and I’m not entirely sure about it, but it’s the best I can do, Sir.”
She handed it back to him.
“Thank you. It will do, I think. Adds up with my theory.”
He put the tablet away and leaned over, facing her. She met his eye –dark and intelligent, very serious. She blinked.
Fury took a breath. "So," he said simply. "There’s a thing we must talk about, Miss Romanova.”
Natalia tilted her head slightly and nodded, but didn’t say a word.
Fury continued. “You came with Agent Barton in expectation –or hope, rather, of a job, a new perspective. You told me you were willing to use your skillset in our service.” He paused for a moment. “You know there are many reasons that militate against that.”
Natalia looked down at her hands and replied by nodding slightly again.
“A month ago I asked you a question. I asked you whether you deserved a second chance. You said no.”
His repeating pauses made Natalia wonder whether he expected proper answers from her.
“I did, Sir.”
“I would like to re-phrase that question. If you got a second chance anyway –regardless of deserving it or not –what is the thing you would like to do with it?”
Natalia’s eyes burnt. Why would he ask that, making her think about the opportunities she wouldn’t get? Couldn’t he just get it over with?
“You mean, if you were to let me out and I could do whatever I want, what would I do?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“I would not go back.” She said it quickly, that was easy. He chuckled.
“I don’t think you would.”
Natalia bit her lip. “I’ve… never thought about what I would do. I mean, there would not be a real choice outside of this system, would it? I mean, it’s not that bad… Killing itself isn’t the problem for me at this point, and… society is such a weird thing… I wouldn’t mind… this… it’s just about choice and who it is. There are some people who actually have to be taken out and I would be fine with doing my share for making this world a safer place for the innocent… It would also be my responsibility, wouldn’t it? Why give me anything if the only outcome is that I get off the radar and don’t bother anyone? “
Fury interrupted her. “Would you prefer to live a civilian life, Miss Romanova?”
Natalia shrugged. "I don't see how I possibly could. I would always be hiding, lying and in the end, I would have to do criminal things to survive, because I’m untrained and don't have a degree or any, well, civilian skills."
Fury nodded. "Thank you for being open about this. I would like you to offer two options, Miss Romanova. Firstly, you gave me information about the criminal actions of the Red Room Facility. As a witness, that of course means you are in danger through them."
“But they think I…” Natalia wanted to protest, but Fury made a gesture and she stopped.
"In cases like this, we can apply Witness Protection Program. New name, new environment, and enough financial support to start something without, well, criminal actions. You could get trained and do something you actually like."
Natalia gulped. She was feeling dizzy. “You mean… you are letting me out?” Her voice was so thin it was hardly audible.
Fury shrugged. “We need the cell for a different kind of people. I don’t see why you should serve a sentence as a punishment, that doesn’t bring anyone back. I think you can do something better with your time.”
Natalia shook her head in confusion. “I… I…”
Fury made a dismissive gesture, a faint grin in the corner of his mouth that was gone so quickly that Natalia was sure she had imagined it. “Yeah, I know, you dunno what to say. Forget it.”
He waited for a few seconds until she had somewhat regained her composure.
“Ready to hear option number two? Good. So, one is Witness Protection Program and for the second one, I would offer you a job within the system, as you call it. It’s true S.H.I.E.L.D could make use of skills like yours and if you want to, you may start here.”
Natalia sat there, speechless. Her thoughts were racing.
“It’s okay, take the time. That’s a difficult decision to make." Fury leaned back. "You don't have to decide now. But you are a free woman from now on."
Free. The word felt strange, new. What would she do? Scenarios were playing out in her mind, teacher, dancer, clerk, Fury telling her she had been found out and had to move. An empty apartment, no contacts, lies at the doctor about her scars. That’s not what I want.
“Is it true I won’t be forced into doing any mission?” she asked quietly.
Fury raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “Forcing people into missions never goes well. Our agents are not slaves, remember that. I do shit, you tell me, I’m not a god after all." He shook his head. "I think before you do anything you should learn about your basic rights, Miss Romanova. I’m not in need of servants, I’m in need of workers.”
“I can work hard,” Natalia said.
“I don’t doubt that.”
Natalia breathed in. She was at a turning point, in a way clearly detectable.
“I would like to work here,” she said, her voice steady. “I would like to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.”
Fury smiled that little faint smile again and got up. She followed and shook his offered hand.
“Well, then, Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D, Agent Romanova.”

◄◄◄►►►

“Let’s discuss conditions,” Fury said after they had sat down again. “I would wish you to take a few lessons with Agent Coulson to get used to the way we work and all that. When that’s done, I will have you back in the field, alright?”
She nodded.
“During that time I would offer you Level 1 salary, that’s not much, but it will provide you with a bit of financial freedom which I reckon you will be happy about. For that first period of time it might be practical to have your domicile here at S.H.I.E.L.D, we have rooms to rent.” He showed her a picture. “I understand you might wish to live somewhere else, though, given your past experiences. We would surely find something in that case.”
Natalia shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t mind living here, at least for now.”
"Good. I have an apartment ready. You can use the canteen, too, if you want to. Usually, it’s a monthly sum for that, but since it’s my choice to have a training period, I would waive that fee.”
Natalia straightened herself. “I would rather pay for it,” she said politely. “Don’t get me wrong, that’s very generous and I would gladly take a credit, but I would like to pay it back as soon as I can. I don’t want to start off in debt all over again. Also that salary, it’s somewhat unfair to take it during the training period, is it not?"
Fury seemed amused. “As far as that is concerned, we usually pay our new recruits since they can already assist and will most likely make up for that expense later. That’s a pretty normal practice here and no specific debt for you. Your other point I understand, though. I will create a listing regarding those expenses, so you’ll know where you are financially and as soon as you earn enough money, you can pay it back. Is that acceptable, Miss Romanova?”
Natalia nodded. “Thank you, Sir.”
“I have scheduled an appointment with Agent Coulson for tomorrow, 10:30. You two will have the training organized. For now, that would be all I have to say. Agent Hill will show you to your quarters. Any questions, problems, concerns?”
Natalia shook her head. “Thank you,” she said again.
“Never mind.”
They got up and he showed her to the door, opening it for her. Agent Hill, the brown-haired agent, was waiting for her already. Weird, Natalia thought, as if he knew I would choose this before I even knew…

◄◄◄►►►

“The system knows you as Agent 14-18,” Agent Hill said as they left the elevator. “The 14’s for N and the 18 for R, but it won’t know you as Natalia Romanova or as Black Widow. So that codename is what you need to use in documents and on the electronic devices in this building. The showers, for example. You just book them by entering your name and then you get a time frame of 15 minutes. A lot of Agents use them, that’s why it’s organized that way. Okay?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“They’re located on the third floor, second corridor to the right. The apartments are on the first corridor." Agent Hill handed her two keys. "These are for your room."
“Thank you.”
“Infirmary is on the ground floor, so is the pharmacy. Dr. Randall said she wanted you to come in for a final check-up or something tomorrow.”
Agent Hill was speaking in a monotone voice, neutrally, obviously just giving her all the information she had been told to give. Natalia was unsure if she was critical of Fury’s decision, but their opinion on her was not a thing she could possibly ask anyone. Probably there would be a lot of people hating her for what she was and what she had done. Who could blame them?
“Here we are, then.” Hill pointed at a door that said ‘Apartment 25’. “Coulson will meet you on the sixth floor, third corridor, it says conference room on the door. Any questions?”
Natalia shook her head. “No, thank you for showing me.”
Hill shrugged. “See you around, Agent Romanova.”
She turned around and left.
Natalia breathed through and turned the key to a room that would now be hers for the first time.
The door opened smoothly and she quickly stepped in, locking it behind her. Security measure.
The room was light and clean, bigger than the one she’d had at the Red Room, and fully furnished. A door led to a small bathroom, toilet, sink, mirror, a bit of room for storing things. The main room contained a bed, a wardrobe, a dresser, a table with two chairs and the tiniest kitchenette, just a fridge and a small burner, you couldn't actually cook properly which wasn't much of a problem since Natalia’s cooking skills didn’t go much further than noodles or maybe eggs. But there would be room for storing food. There was a window at the far end of the room, offering a view on the Triskelion’s towers – she had been right about the building after all.
Natalia put off her shoes, bowing down to feel the structure of the carpet on the floor. It was grey and had a white circle on it, perfect at not quite yet being a S.H.I.E.L.D logo.
Natalia went to the wardrobe next, expecting to find it empty like everything else do far –except soap and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the bath, but it actually contained something; her old uniform, cleaned up but still torn and the T-Shirt Barton had given to her. The different underwear she had been wearing during the last months, socks, her flat shoes, and her green dress as well as the top and a satin negligee that had been in her backpack, which also was stored there, but empty. Natalia ran her fingers over the fabric of her uniform.
She was strangely conflicted about keeping it, but that wasn’t a decision she should make now, probably. She closed the doors and went to the dresser, opening its drawers to find the rest of her properties, her make-up case, even her hairpin, and her knife –hell, was that her gun? She took it into her hands, finding it exactly as she had left it. No sudden disgust, it was a familiar feel. It wasn’t like her gun itself killed people, it merely enabled her to do it simply. Her cellphone was gone, not surprising, it could be tracked down, but there was a new one with a sticky note that told her the pin to unlock it and “For business purposes”.
Natalia went back to the middle of the room, being finished examining it. It felt like waking up from a dream. Did she always do that? Scanning rooms, noting down every detail? Why could she remember the brand of the soap? How could she have so little control of her actions?
She sat down where she was, in the middle of the circle on the carpet. She felt a lump in her throat, a sudden feeling of being overtaxed, a sudden urge to scream. Was that what freedom felt like? Fear of choice? Fear of not being controlled? She folded her hands like she was praying to a god she didn’t know but she just pressed her own fingers until the first storm wore off. It took a few minutes until she was capable of getting up and moving to the bed. There was a clock on the night table, it was almost 6:30 pm. What about a shower? It had to be next corridor and she could find out how it worked that way. Where would she get a towel from? There was none in the bath, so she just hoped she’d find one there, and left her room. She walked the corridor like she was trespassing; a group of three agents around 30 greeted her with a nod and curious glances. She nodded back, looking to the floor, hunching her shoulders a bit. She found the showers, noticed a free one, and managed to book it on first try. She used up the 15 minutes completely, standing motionlessly with her eyes closed, warm water running over her face and down her back. For the first time, she could properly see the scar from the arrow. It was rather big but would be invisible with almost all clothing.
Natalia dried her hair which curled as always when it was wet and went back to her room. That little tour to the shower had been enough for one day, everything just seemed incredibly stressful to her. The rest of the evening she spent lying on her new bed –that was most certainly an improvement, goddamn, it was so comfortable… only wearing the blue T-Shirt; staring at the ceiling, and letting the fact that she was free kick in.
Free. Free to do whatever she wanted, finally free to live the life she wanted to live… if she could figure out what that was.

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

People, we're headed for some S.H.I.E.L.D action!! And Coulson is gonna be there!
Ofc, this chapter is just a bit of necessary stuff, so idk, don't have anything more to say, I hope you enjoyed it and you're interested in Nat's training and missions for S.H.I.E.L.D, (and I think Clint is getting a bit indigant that he wasn't properly here for so long so he's gonna be back soon as well.)
With that being said, thank you so much for reading, have a nice day :)

Chapter 16: S2/16: The Art of Adapting

Summary:

Brand-newly assigned S.H.I.E.L.D agent, there’s a lot Natalia has to learn. Everything in this system is completely different from what she knows, but Agent Coulson is determined to help her through.

Music piece: “You can never be ready” by Sunrise Avenue

Notes:

sorry I'm a little bit late uploading this week, I was quite busy today :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The Art of Adapting

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia stared at Agent Coulson, her green eyes so expressionless that he could clearly tell she was hiding her emotions from him. And she was, she hid her nervousness and insecurity at being trained by him because she didn’t know what it would be like and what he would expect from her. Not that she feared she could not deliver the quality they wanted but she was scared of how much she would be punished before learning their ways.
“I know that stare of yours,” he said smilingly. She had already figured out that he seemed to be in a good mood most of the time. “It’s a ‘Don’t come near or I’ll bite.’ Don’t worry, I won’t risk it. May I call you Natalia?”
Natalia nodded, bewildered by being asked for permission. Wasn’t he her superior? Next thing she knew he’d ask her to call him by his first name. S.H.I.E.L.D. had such a weird connection to names, Barton had also started to use her first name as soon as she had said it.
“We are not going to start with combat or anything,” Coulson continued and Natalia frowned. What else than combat would he possibly want to train her in? For a moment she hoped he would ask her to dance but then again S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t seem like they were into dancing.
“After your recent injury and the long period of inactiveness you’ll be quite out of practice. You know how you were trained best so you can get yourself back on level, can’t you?”
She nodded. Did that mean she could decide herself what to train and how? No schedule, no pressure, no competition?
“I can of course get you a coach or train you myself if you want. But you seem like you’re someone who can be trusted to work whether or not I’m watching.”
Natalia nodded. Seemed like this would be her job for now, nodding and being confused. Maybe he was concerned she was beyond their quality. She probably was. But what would he train her in then?
Coulson laughed and Natalia was startled by the sound. It sounded authentic, not at all fake or sarcastic.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just so interesting right now. One of the last recruits who hadn’t joined S.H.I.E.L.D the official way was Agent Barton.”
Natalia couldn't help but be interested. So Barton was unorthodox beyond his weaponry. How had he joined? Had he been…? But he seemed so righteous and upright…
“He spent exactly one hour being all grumpy and ‘I don’t care about this shit.’ and since then, he has been talking without breaks. And now here you are and the situation is as different as can be. You are obliging and polite and exquisitely silent. And to be honest, I don't expect you to talk anytime soon, you're way too shy for that. I’ll try to make you less afraid of me, but that’ll take time.”
Natalia felt like running at this point, she really did. The smiling S.H.I.E.L.D Agent morphed into a nightmarish monster in her mind, screaming “Are you afraid, Natalia? Are you afraid?”
Her hands gripped the hem of her plain black shirt, crumpling it beneath her fingers. Coulson kept talking without taking notice.
"So we'll spend a lot of time talking in here and after this session, I'll show you around and give you some inside on the system, okay?"
Natalia nodded. Surprising move, haha.
Coulson put his elbows on the table.
“So,” he said and it sounded like a threat to Natalia. "Let's introduce ourselves to each other. I'm Special Agent Phil Coulson, you can choose how to call me, Coulson or Phil. I'm 46 and have been with S.H.I.E.L.D for over ten years now. I mostly organize or train these days, I'm not in the field anymore. I've had classic S.H.I.E.L.D training and before that, I was with the CIA. Ah, and I collect trading cards for a hobby. You know Captain America, don't you?"
His eyes shone at saying it, he seemed pretty passionate. Natalia nodded.
“I have been taught about the program, about Erskine and Schmidt. The KGB would blow up all of Germany to get their hands on that formula,” she added, in a somewhat helpless attempt to lengthen her answer. Did he even want a longer answer?
“Many would,” Coulson agreed. “Anyways, enough on my hobbies. What about yours?”
Natalia assumed this was a diplomatic way of asking her to introduce herself.
“My name is Natalia Romanova,” she said. “I’m 20… at least I think I am, I don’t know exactly. I mean… you know that already, but I’ve worked with the Black Widow Program before I came here.”
“When did you join them?” Coulson asked.
Join them, Natalia thought, that sounds like I actually chose this kind of life. Probably it is like that for other S.H.I.E.L.D agents, though...
“When I was five, I think.”
For a moment, there was clear shock displayed on Coulson’s face, the same way that Barton had reacted to her considering the little girl in the restaurant a spy candidate. Apparently, it was an absolute no-go. Natalia wondered if she should apologize.
Coulson cleared his throat, moving on without commenting on the matter.
“And what do you like to do?”
Quick shift. Okay…
“I trained dancing,” Natalia said carefully, adding “Ballet.”
“Exquisite.” Coulson smiled. “I like to watch a show now and then but I am not very talented at dancing, I’m afraid. Maybe you’ll give me a performance one day.”
“Of course, if you want to,” Natalia said and meant ‘please, how about right now?’. If anything, she wanted to get out of this interrogation and do some physical work.
She had once preferred the lessons to physical training, using her brain instead of her body, but right now she felt physical was the only safe route. She had no idea what kind of lesson this even was…
She didn't want to reveal too much but she didn't want to seem secretive and uncooperative and she just couldn't read him… a lump in her throat threatened to choke her. She felt overtaxed and in a brief moment of panic, all her defenses failed.
Coulson looked at her, her eyes widened and her face as white as a sheet. She looked like a cornered animal ready to snap at the slightest sign of danger.
“Natalia, did I say something that specifically scared you, or are you generally uncomfortable with this whole situation?"
Natalia slumped into her chair. She was facing a task too big for her. She had gotten a second chance and could not deal with it. She was wasting S.H.I.E.L.D’s time, she was weak…
“Natalia.”
She forced herself to look at Coulson.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she breathed.
Coulson shook his head.
“No, don’t be. This is a new start, I understand that. It’s okay to be uneasy.”
Natalia clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.
“I’m… I can’t… I’m not good at… talking like this,” she whispered. “I’ve not been trained… but I can do missions, I can do that… I can fight… I can be worth something…”
The last part was a question, a hardly audible, desperate question.
She looked up at him, body tense, ready for his reaction.
There was a pained expression on his face, but he didn’t seem like he was angry at her. When he spoke, his voice was soft and friendly.
“Of course you’re worth… I don’t doubt that you can fight, Natalia, that’s not the issue. This session is not to prove your worth to us, it’s to help you. I’m not trying to judge your worth as a human being, okay? You’ve got to abandon this way of thinking, it’s not what we do. Our first job is giving you a helping hand, our second job will be making you the best agent possible. Never, and I mean never, the other way around. This is not a test, there’s no grading, I promise.”
Natalia was relieved at his calm tone, his reassurance that she wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t change that she had no idea what he was saying. A helping hand with what?
“Okay,” Coulson continued, “Let’s start over. What we’re doing here is not working on your espionage training, that doesn’t need improvement. I want to work with you on yourself, on adapting to this new environment that you don’t know the rules of. I’m not asking you to spill the story of your life, that’s your private thing and it’s for you to decide who will get to hear it. But you will have to talk to me a little bit, you have to communicate some of your thoughts, otherwise, I can't work with you. Honesty won't hurt you here, I give you my word."
Natalia nodded slightly.
“You’re not the first one to have difficulties with that,” Coulson said. “And these people are still here and fine with what they’re doing. You’ll be as well. Now, think about it. What is the thing disrupting you? No matter what, I don’t take things personally, just try to put it into words.”
Natalia sat silently for a while, fighting back ‘What will he tell Fury?’ or ‘They’ll throw me out if I’m impolite!’ and tried to concentrate.
“I don’t know… I don’t know what you want from me,” she said finally. And because it sounded weird she added, hastily “I thought you’d train me physically, see how good I am. Maybe give me exams to fill out, I don’t know. But these kinds of questions don’t have real answers, I don't know what you want to hear, what is the right thing to say, or what will sound wrong. I'd honestly be more relaxed with you shouting commands at me… Does that sound … weird?”
“I get your point of view.” Coulson smiled amiably. “We are always more comfortable with the way we are used to. The main problem is not how we do it, but that you don’t know how we do it. Back at your old place, you might have hated the way but you knew what to expect. Hopefully, maybe you’ll prefer our way as soon as you’ve grown used to the system.”
Natalia nodded, this time more enthusiastically. No matter how uncomfortable she was now, she had left the Red Room for a reason and she didn’t want this to be the same, even if it meant adapting to something all new.
“You’ll have to put up with me not shouting at you, though,” Coulson said smilingly.
He said it so sincerely and seriously that Natalia exhaled in a way that suggested a laugh. It could hardly be called one, yet she was taken by surprise. She hadn’t laughed honestly in a long time.
Coulson got up.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s do the S.H.I.E.L.D tour first. We can talk some other time.”
Natalia got up and followed him. Had he really just changed the schedule for her?
Coulson led her out.
“Okay,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me everything you know about S.H.I.E.L.D so I know what I need to tell you and what I can skip.”
Natalia relaxed. This was something she could do.
Ten minutes later Natalia stopped and breathed through. Coulson stared at her.
“That’s it?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Okay," Coulson said. "Everything you said is correct and it's surely a lot more comprehensive than the knowledge of any other recruit I've had so far… but, Natalia, have you learned this by heart? Have you been taught this way?"
Natalia frowned.
“By being lectured and then reciting it, yes.”
“But it’s so dry!” He seemed honestly shocked. “That must have been deadly boring.”
Again Natalia breathe-laughed.
“Yes,” she admitted. “It was, sometimes. I am used to it, though.”
“The force of habit,” Coulson said. “Still, if I imagine it was me who had to learn this… I could fall asleep right away.”
Natalia had to admit she felt the same way when thinking she would have to go through all of this again. Overall, this lesson was… weird, uncomfortable, but definitely not dry and boring.
She thought of smiling at him but she didn’t feel like she would manage a real one and she never wanted to smile in a fake way again.
Coulson pointed to the right. “Agent Hill told you about the general system? How you can log in and get access?”
“Yes, she did.”
“Alright. Over there is a monitor where you can access a plan of the building. Third floor, just in case you get lost sometime. You weren’t in the canteen this morning, were you?”
Natalia shook her head. It was something like eleven and she was hungry if only a bit.
“You didn’t know where it was?” He reconsidered “And you didn’t know if you were allowed to go.”
Natalia blushed a little and avoided his eyes. He’d guessed that quickly.
“Listen,” Coulson said. “Whenever you are unsure about something like this, no matter how stupid you think that question may sound, just ask me. I’ll be glad to help you out.”
Natalia nodded.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. It would be polite to smile. But she didn’t.
“Never mind,” Coulson replied and gave her the smile she should have given him. They continued walking. “The training quarters work like the showers,” Coulson explained. “Just book them the same way. Down there in the basement there’s a swimming area. You can get a swimsuit from here if you need one, just tell me. Also if you need other things for training. As far as clothing in general is concerned, naturally, you'll need some more. Maybe you can take someone with you when you first hit the town. Am I too worried? I don’t doubt you can actually take care of yourself.”
Natalia stopped and faced him for the first time, her eyes narrowing a bit. Nothing, just sincere friendliness. He actually meant this.
“No,” she said. “That’s pretty… nice of you.”

◄◄◄►►►
[Intro]
◄◄◄►►►

INT. canteen –day. Coulson and Natalia enter the busy room. Coulson is talking.

COULSON …three times a day.
NATALIA I understand.
COULSON Good. Let’s get in line. I’ll be right with you in a second, I quickly have to talk to Agent Hill for a moment.
NATALIA Okay.

She goes to the line. Coulson steps up on Agent Hill, who is just taking her tray away.

HILL So, how is your new charge doing?
COULSON Like you’d expect, I’d say. She’s extremely shy with me. But listen, I would like to ask something of you.
HILL Listening closely.
COULSON Barton is sitting over there. Would you mind going over and telling him he should leave us alone, at least for now? I'd like to talk to him anyway, but for now, I think it's for the best if he keeps his distance.
HILL You think he’d talk her to death?
COULSON Well… yes, I fear it would be a bit overtaxing.
HILL Consider it done.
COULSON Thank you.

They part, Hill putting her tray away and then walking over to Clint while Coulson gets in line and winks at Natalia. She returns a rather forced smile. Coulson taps the agent in front of him on the shoulder.

COULSON Sorry, Agent Turner, would it bother you very much to let me go in front of you? I’m afraid the young woman over there is new here and I would like to give a bit of emotional support for the first time.
TURNER Sure.
COULSON Thank you so much. Getting to Natalia Here I am again. It's overall quite simple, you just tell her if you want option A or B and if you want a salad. I'll show you first, okay?

Natalia nods.

TURNER turning to the woman behind him, under his breath Coulson really is developing a sort of mother-complex, don’t you think? That girl is surely twenty, she must be able to order food herself.
WOMAN Well, you gotta admit she looks pretty uncomfortable altogether. Have you heard the rumors…
TURNER dismissively Yeah, but no way that’s her.
WOMAN shaking her head Still thinking it's about being bulky and muscular, Tom? I thought Lizzy had taught you better.
TURNER Don’t remind me.

He holds his arm in faked pain. They both laugh. It’s Natalia’s turn to order her meal.

NATALIA quietly Menu A. With salad, please.

It seems like the clerk wants to complain about her speaking so quietly but Coulson shuts her up with one look. She nods and hands over the tray. Natalia takes it, the plate rattles slightly, giving away her shaky hands.

COULSON gently Come on.

He leads her to a deserted table at the very end of the canteen.

COULSON You’re not really a people person, are you?
NATALIA embarrassed No, not really.
COULSON That’s okay. How you behave outside of work is nothing of S.H.I.E.L.D’s business, there is no forcing you into conversing with anyone if you don't want to. He notices she has not started eating. You don’t have to wait. Just start eating when you want to.
NATALIA hastily starting to cut her potatoes even though there is no actual need to, laughing nervously I’m not really doing anything correctly, am I?
COULSON No, please. You’re doing just fine, you’re just nervous.

For a while, they eat silently and Natalia starts relaxing. Without her seeing, Turner wants to come over. Coulson considers for a moment, then shakes his head, silently telling him to stay away. Turner seems bewildered but obeys. Coulson sighs. Natalia looks up.

NATALIA Is something wrong?
COULSON No, no, don’t worry.

Natalia hesitates, tilting her head slightly. Coulson sighs again.

COULSON You realize many agents are very curious about you?
NATALIA Don’t they know who I am?
COULSON Not officially. Some might know. But even the ones that do will have questions. We tend to know each other quite well here, at least by name and you are even more interesting for them because you are not part of a bunch of new recruits and there are rumors about you. I’m just thinking about how to turn the whole thing away from you.
NATALIA hesitant Is it lying to not tell who I am? I mean, like my back story and all that?
COULSON No. You can answer all the questions you want, but you are certainly not obliged to spill it to everyone you meet.
NATALIA I suppose all new Agents must deal with that inquisition in some way.
COULSON laughing Yeah, that’s true. We’re a pretty inquisitive bunch.
NATALIA I’ll do my best then. I don’t want to be the exception.
COULSON I respect that. You are finished?
NATALIA Yes, I am.
COULSON Good. Let’s take our trays away and then I’m afraid I will have to sit through another one of your lessons because I’m very interested in your knowledge. As Natalia seems embarrassed Now, don’t look at me that way. I understand that you were taught that way, it’s not your fault.

They leave to take the trays away.
CUT. INT. Fury’s office -night. Fury shuffles through a few papers. There’s a knock on the door.

FURY Come in.

Coulson enters.

FURY Ah, it’s you. Have had a good first day?
COULSON Well, I’d tell you if I knew, Director. She’s not extremely open and I’m not sure how to deal with it in a good way.
FURY She’s cautious, huh?
COULSON More than that, she’s frightened. I’m always scared to say something wrong. And you know what it’s like, literally everyone will question her.
FURY She’ll have to deal with it, you can’t keep people away from her forever. Barton was here and asked me if it’s my doing that he’s not allowed to talk to her.
COULSON I felt it was the best thing I could do in the given situation. I didn’t mean forever, just for now. Thoughtfully I hope there will be no hostility against her.
FURY I don’t think so. It would be the first time and most Agents really have not much room to judge. Killing is killing at the end of the day.
COULSON Yes, true.
FURY Have you watched her training?
COULSON Yes, I have. Impressive, a lot of strength in that dainty thing, so much discipline.
FURY Take care she’s not overdoing it just to please us.
COULSON Yes, Sir.

CUT. INT. hallway –evening. Natalia is coming out of a training room, meeting Agent Turner on the way back to her room.

TURNER Hello there.
NATALIA quietly Hello.
TURNER You’re new, aren’t you? I saw you in the canteen today.
NATALIA Yeah, I’m new.
TURNER Accounting, IT maybe? Or are you a field agent?
NATALIA Field Agent. At least I will be.
TURNER By the way, my name is Tom Turner, but otherwise, my parents are okay.
NATALIA taking a few seconds to get the joke Natalia Romanova.
TURNER See, that’s a nice name! adding It’s Russian, isn’t it?
NATALIA Yes.
TURNER So you’re an Ex-FSB agent?
NATALIA Something like that, if you will.
TURNER Mysterious. Anyways, welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D., Agent Romanova.

He leaves, waving to her. Natalia looks at him over her shoulder.

NATALIA V.O Now that wasn’t so bad.

[Muted, overlain by music] Natalia is training, concentrated, but there is less tension in her moves. She’s working, not frightened.
CUT.INT. conference room -day. Natalia is sitting opposite Coulson, stiffly, her legs straight beneath the table, perfect angle, like she’s been taught, her hands on the table. He’s talking loosely, she listens closely, anxiously taking in every word.
CUT. EXT. mall –day. Natalia shops on her own, carefully picking clothing, it’s obvious she’s new to it. She finds a graphic T-shirt that she likes, a faint smile quickly passes over her face.
CUT. EXT. street –evening. Natalia takes a walk through Washington, casually, wearing the new T-Shirt. Passing through the park, her steps are light, almost dancing. She’s completely relaxed.
CUT. INT. conference room –day. Natalia sitting at the table again, Coulson is walking around with a cup of coffee, talking. Natalia has leaned back slightly, her hands now in her lap, feet still straight.
CUT. INT. canteen. Natalia is eating, Hill comes to join her, saying a few words. Natalia replies shyly, Coulson who is watching from afar, smiles.
CUT.INT. hairdresser –day. Natalia has her hair cut, not dramatically, just a few inches.
CUT.INT. swimming area. Natalia dives up from the water. She continues swimming, then gets out. Wrapped into a towel on the way to the showers, she runs into Clint.

NATALIA embarrassed Oh, sorry.
CLINT No problem. How you doing?
NATALIA I’m… doing good. Shyly And you?
CLINT Since they're letting me in the field again, it’s going alright. Smiling Now, I’ll let you shower, you’ll catch a cold. We’ll chat some other time.

He waves and jumps into the water dynamically. Natalia stands still for a few seconds before she leaves, he has caught her off-guard.
CUT. INT. Training room –day. Natalia is boxing, for the first time with her hands wrapped. AGENT BLAKE, a massive man, but rather friendly-looking, steps up on her. Natalia turns to him.

BLAKE So, you’re the new girl. They say you’re quite a fighter. Care to have a spar?
NATALIA tilting her head With rules or for real?

They check each other out, Blake smiles.

BLAKE Show me what you’ve got, kid.

Natalia ties her hair back. She smirks.

CUT.INT. Fury's office -day. Fury watches a video of Natalia holding bulky Blake down. He raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed.
CUT.INT. conference room –day. Coulson drinks from his cup. Natalia does the same. She’s sitting at the table, still listening attentively but her posture is now completely natural. She’s mostly let her guard down with him.
CUT. INT. Fury’s office –morning. Coulson enters.

COULSON She’s ready.
FURY nodding I’ve got something.

CUT. INT. hallway -day. Natalia is running up a staircase, anxiously looking at the clock.

NATALIA muffled Shit.

She continues running, in front of the conference room, she bumps into Coulson, who was coming from the other direction.

BOTH out of breath Sorry, I’m late!

For a moment they are startled, then Coulson laughs and pats Natalia on the back, leading her in. [Fade to black]

INT. conference room –day. Natalia is standing, Coulson sits at the table in front of a pile of papers.

COULSON …three hostile individuals and your client is in danger. Which code do you use?
NATALIA immediately A4-05
COULSON And if you are in danger?
NATALIA A4-01
COULSON Perfect. Your memory is remarkable. Taking out a file Time for graduation, I would say.

Natalia flinches at the word but hides it fairly well.

NATALIA hesitatingly Okay.
COULSON Come over here. She sits down next to him. We’ve got a mission for you, something fairly simple, I reckon. Something to get back into it, no kill.
NATALIA visibly relaxing I’ll have it done.
COULSON Well, I don’t doubt it. Pointing at the file, showing pictures of the people mentioned You see, there are two Mafia groups, fighting each other. One group, the Perino, has a double agent in the rivaling organization, the Balducci. They’ve quote on quote captured their own agent to force the Balducci into an exchange.
NATALIA Sensible data?
COULSON Exactly. A data drive in exchange for the Perino sleeper. Your task is getting that drive during the exchange.
NATALIA nodding Because they will suspect each other. Do we know where the exchange takes place?
COULSON Yes, a villa in little Italy, basically around the corner.

CUT. EXT. backyard of the villa -night.

COULSON V.O cont’d You’re the service maid, gonna serve the drinks.

Natalia, dressed as a maid, enters the villa.
CUT.INT. villa -night. PERINO and BALDUCCI, each accompanied by bodyguards, at a table. The drive is lying on it, too, the DOUBLE AGENT is kept hostage by the Perino bodyguards. They are discussing the exchange.

COULSON V.O cont’d You have to pickpocket the drive without them noticing, if they do, there would be a massacre.
NATALIA V.O They won’t notice, and if I have to take it from their underwear.
COULSON V.O Now that’s the spirit. I think I can leave the rest to you.
NATALIA V.O I won’t disappoint you.

Natalia enters with a tray. She has a fake drive in her hand, acting innocent and a bit scared. Nobody takes notice of her.

NATALIA in Italian The drinks, Sir.

Balducci nods dismissively and gestures her to put it down. Natalia quickly puts the fake drive on the table, sliding the real one into her sleeve. She puts down the tray, curtseys, and leaves.
Outside, she quickly connects it to an adapter on her phone, checking the data. She nods. Then she goes back to the ground floor, slipping through the kitchen door. Upstairs, she can hear shouting, she slips out of her maid’s dress, revealing a cocktail dress. She undoes her hair and puts the drive into her bra. She throws the old clothing into a trash container, quickly putting on lipstick.
She continues walking as the shouting gets louder.

BALDUCCI in Italian, outraged These bastards must be on the run with it!
PERINO in Italian You sneaky rat, meaning to betray us!

They run past Natalia, not taking notice of her. She gives a sly little smile as she hails a cab. She puts a finger on her comm. She’s had fun with this.

NATALIA suppressing the triumph. A1-01. Mission accomplished.

CUT.INT. Fury’s office –dawn. There’s a knock on the door.

FURY Do come in.

Natalia enters, holding the stick, still dressed up. She gives it to him.

NATALIA Sir.
FURY Nice and smooth. Well done.
NATALIA secretly happy about the praise Just doing my job, Sir.
FURY Take a seat, Agent Romanoff… Romanova. I’m sorry, keep forgetting the a.
NATALIA No problem at all. I can go by Romanoff if that’s more comfortable to say, makes no difference to me.
FURY Okay, then, Agent Romanoff. How did that go? Feel comfortable?
NATALIA Totally, Sir.
FURY Good to hear. You will continue?
NATALIA Of course.
FURY Be honest with me, on a scale from 1 “That’s child’s play” to 10 “This mission is impossible”, how was this one?
NATALIA briefly considering 2?
FURY Thought so. You feel up to something a bit more… interesting?
NATALIA You mean a kill mission, Sir?
FURY Actually, no. You get to use your combat skill a bit more but the premise is not elimination but information. It’s a bit riskier than the first one but according to Agent Blake’s combat encounter with you, I don’t think there will be a problem.

He hands her a file. She flips it open and skims it. Fury watches her carefully. Natalia looks up. She gives a little smirk again.

NATALIA When do I start?

[Black]
[End Credits]

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

Yay, some Nat Coulson action :D
I really like those two, I think in The Avengers you could really tell Nat was comfortable with him, so I really wanted to emphasize on that.
Also, first S.H.I.E.L.D mission. One of the few I had to conjure up (I'm so bad at mission stuff, you'll notice there'll be a lot of unspecified ones in the future bc I can't think of anything)
Since we obviously all want to see Clint again, I have good news, he'll be there next chapter A LOT and after that there are basically no chapters without him anymore bc obviously he is going to be very important to Natalia very quickly.
With that being said, see you next- next year actually. I hope you all have a good start of 2022 :)

Chapter 17: S2/17: Change

Summary:

After giving Natalia a little time to settle in, Clint decides to renew their acquaintance. After all, he's the one who brought her to S.H.I.E.L.D.
Both of them are unaware of what their newfound comradery will lead to…

Music piece: "One more time" by I Prevail

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Time to change

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia put down her tray and quietly slipped onto a chair at the deserted end of the table. She could have sat down closer to the others, Hill sat on the table next to her, but she wasn’t quite sure if that was inappropriate, so she sat alone.
She cut the chicken into small slices and concentrated on eating slowly and actually tasting it. She had never quite gotten out of the habit of eating too quickly. It tasted good. She wasn’t sure if the food in the Red Room had been worse, she really couldn’t remember. In fact, she had no idea what she had eaten for the first twenty years of her life, it had always been a quick, unspectacular affair, no flair, no sense of community.
She liked this chicken, though, and the sauce, too.
“Congrats!” She looked up to see Agent Clint Barton sitting down opposite her. He looked cheerful and at ease and she immediately felt stiff compared to him. She hadn’t talked to him since she’d come here. On purpose, because owing him something made her uncomfortable.
“Hello,” she replied quietly.
Barton started cutting his food. “So you got your second chance alright,” he pointed out and grinned. “And make good use of it, I’ve heard.”
Natalia played with a strand of her hair. “Thank you,” she said then.
Barton shook his head. “Oh, please, no. You don’t need to thank me. If anyone, it’s Fury you have to be thankful to.”
“I am,” Natalia clarified quickly. “But you could have killed me and you didn’t.”
“You didn’t kill me either. You deserve this, it’s your achievement, not mine.”
He began eating and Natalia did so, too. She didn’t know what to say and so they remained in silence for a while.
“Do you like it at S.H.I.E.L.D?” he asked finally.
She nodded. “Yes, a lot.”
She had more in mind, something along the lines of where I come from, all of this would be a traitorous fantasy that I would have never dared to hope for, but she just said “I’ve adapted to the system, I think.”
“I’ve been told the same. You’re Level 7, right? Word is your combat is off the charts. I bet no one dares to spar with you."
“I get a lot of bad guys to spar with,” she replied. It was true, though, in the beginning, she had had some challengers, but not now.
“They just don’t want to admit they’re so much worse. It’s like shooting, I get no one to challenge me.”
I bet, Natalia thought. She had heard the word on him, too, and it was that he was the best shooter S.H.I.E.L.D had ever had.
“I don’t think I could possibly beat you at shooting. I’m not that good at it, really.”
“My combat is not that good either.” Barton smiled. “Well, nobody’s perfect.”
Natalia had finished but she felt it would be impolite to leave now.
"Don't you take a second or a dessert?" Barton asked. "I mean, you've really had close to nothing."
“I don’t need very much.”
"There's pudding and ice cream for dessert. I mean, I personally am not a huge fan of pudding and stuff but everybody likes ice cream, right?"
As Natalia didn’t answer but just looked at him blankly, his eyes widened.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know what that is!”
“Yes… I do, I just… didn’t try it yet?”
She had always tried keeping away from stuff that smelled delicious because she knew it might be the only opportunity and she didn’t need more desires that couldn’t be satisfied.
“How the hell did you get through that shit!?” Barton seemed honestly shocked. Natalia felt amused and sad at the same time, so she just shrugged.
"Okay, lesson right now, ice cream for beginners." Barton got up. "No second for me today, well, you know, I eat too much anyway. Stay here, okay? I'll be right back."
Natalia stayed. She was excited. Sometimes food brought back old memories if it was something from the time before. Truth be told, she was still shy about the food system and the concept of seconds confused her because there seemed to be unwritten rules she didn’t know about. Trusting Barton on this one was surely a good choice. She found it a little strange how he treated her past, not in a negative way, though. He couldn’t possibly know anything about it, but he just mentioned it casually, like he didn’t have to know details. She did kind of like that.
Barton came back, carrying two bowls.
"I didn't bring pudding, but you can get it if you want. As I said, I just like ice cream better." He put down the bowls and sat down again. "Don't eat too quickly, that gives you a really strange kind of headache, so just take it easy."
Natalia looked at the food skeptically. She knew there were different sorts of ice cream, some of which she could imagine, like strawberry or pistachio, and others that made no sense to her because she didn't know what the thing they were made of tasted like.
"What kind of ice cream is that?" she asked, certain that it sounded absolutely dumb.
“Chocolate, of course.” Barton frowned. “Now don’t you tell me you also don’t know chocolate.”
She did, she even had a vague idea what it tasted like, but it was the blurred kind of memory that slipped away as she tried to grasp it.
“Would it be very bad if I didn’t?”
Barton shook his head. “Seriously, that just really gave me a new level of respect for you. You survived that hell of a life without chocolate?”
Natalia surprised both of them with a little chuckle. “That’s really not the worst thing to miss.”
“Try it and tell me again.”
Natalia took the spoon and carefully tried the food. Barton looked at her expectantly.
“It’s cold,” she observed, tasted, swallowed. “And sweet… and a little bitter.”
“Good summary of chocolate flavor,” he said, smiling. “And do you like it?”
Natalia nodded, trying some more. This was damn delicious.
“I think I might wanna revoke my statement,” she said.
Barton laughed. “Was that almost a joke? You’re full of surprises, Natalia.”
She caught herself smiling at him. That was the second time in five minutes!
For a while, they ate silently. Natalia had to pull herself together so she would not devour it like an excited 5-year-old. Stay professional. It’s not supposed to be that special.
“So you really never had chocolate?” Barton resumed the conversation. “I mean, there must have been some opportunities in that four years that you’ve been in the field, right?”
Natalia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Dammit. So much for professional ice-cream eating. She wiped it off with a napkin, embarrassed. Then she remembered Barton’s question.
"It's a bit hard to explain why it would be necessary to eat ice cream on a mission,” she explained shortly. Barton frowned, obviously not understanding. “I mean,” she continued. “because I had to report my mission expenses, with sales checks and all and they would look it through and make sure everything had been useful… Ice cream is not really on that list of useful items, right?”
Barton’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“So let me get this straight. You had to report everything? Even what you ate?”
She nodded.
“But why?”
Natalia asked herself that question. Why had they wanted her to report everything? Before she had fully grasped it, she heard herself say: “Probably because it meant control. Because it meant I thought of them all the time I ‘felt like’ doing something. Cos I knew it wouldn’t count.”
Barton nodded.
“I see, control freaks alert…” He smiled a little awkwardly, then changed the topic. “But, you know, if you want to catch up and try out some tasty stuff, I know a store downtown, it’s called ‘Chocolate Factory’. They’ve got everything and I’ve been meaning to go there this weekend anyway, so feel free to join me.”
Natalia was surprised at this invitation. She wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to go, though. Barton seemed to guess that.
“I’ll ask you then, just decide spontaneously.” He winked. “Let’s see what you feel like.”
Natalia knew he was making fun of her now, but was being friendly at the same time. She smiled again. It’s coming more easily, she thought, almost effortlessly. I wonder why. Maybe because he’s an agent like me, not my superior like Coulson. I don’t watch my words the same way.
“Do you want a second?” Barton asked, but she shook her head. She’d had her joy for today, better not push it too far.
“So you’re the kind that could literally eat anything but still watches calories?”
Natalia shook her head, amused. “Really, I don’t care about calories at all. But I already feel the headache you were talking about, so maybe tomorrow or something.”
Barton laughed. “Cool, I almost thought I would constantly feel bad next to you cos I eat so much. But I guess I just have to introduce you to chocolate soufflé or something similarly divine and we’ll be all good.” As he saw she didn’t know what he meant, he explained “That’s a sort of cake with liquid warm chocolate inside. It tastes… too good to be true if you get my point.”
She nodded.
“Okay then.” Barton got up. “I think Fury will be pissed if I’m late, so I gotta go now. Was nice talking to you. See you around!”
He waved and loped out of the canteen, leaving Natalia confused, but not in an unpleasant way.
“It was nice talking to you, too,” she replied softly, even though he was way out of sight. Then she shook her head, smiling about herself and left, because she, too, had work to do.
Also, she had to look up some stuff. As soon as possible.

◄◄◄►►►

Shot-Shot. Reloading. Shooting. Reloading.
"That doesn't look very relaxed," Clint commented.
Shot. Shot. "This is. not." shot. reloading "supposed. To. be." Shot. "relaxing.”
Natalia didn't turn. She shot again, spun both guns around, shot again. Always heart, never head. Always close to the center, almost always hitting less than a few millimeters off. Shot. Changing the magazine.
"Woah, Romanoff, who messed with you today?" Clint went into position next to her.
"No one, why?" shot. Shot.
Clint let an arrow fly hitting perfectly. Two more followed.
"You seem angry."
"I'm not angry." Shot, shot.
Clint put his bow down, letting the string loose. He watched Natalia's violent firing for a while.
"Then you must absolutely hate shooting."
Natalia put her guns down. Her magazines were both empty. She sat down on a bench on the side, putting the weapons next to her. Clint began shooting again as he knew she did not intend to answer his implied question. His movements were dynamic and fluent and 100% relaxed. Natalia watched him even though she was finished and not obliged to stay. Not being Clint Barton's target made it easier to see that his shooting was a work of art. Every shot hit the exact spot he had assigned it to, forming all sorts of patterns on the target as he casually walked across the room and emptied his quiver.
Natalia had never been quite sure whether he had missed her heart or purposefully spared her. Now she was.
"You see," Clint continued without looking. "I love shooting. And I find it very relaxing."
Natalia scoffed. "If that’s the way you train all the time, I’m not surprised. Not everyone has learned shooting this way."
He looked at her briefly. "True. You're very serious about training, I know."
Natalia shook her head, unsure whether he had meant it as criticism. "No, you're better than I'll ever be at this. I didn't want to question your training methods... I just didn't have a lot of fun learning shooting."
"Did you ever have fun learning something?" He asked genuinely, he really wanted to know. Natalia considered the question.
“It’s not like I don’t like learning. I like getting better. Shooting is just something I could never get good enough at, no matter how hard I tried.”
She had always dreaded shooting practice so much…
Clint turned around. “Are you kidding? You have a better aim than most S.H.I.E.L.D agents could dream of!”
Natalia shrugged. She didn’t want to go into the fact that no matter how high her level might seem now or how easily it was enough for missions, it had never been enough until she had been the only option.
“C’mon.” Clint waved her over. “I’ll show you the fun stuff.”
Natalia got up and came over out of politeness and a little bit of curiosity. After all, it wouldn’t hurt to learn the usage of this weapon, who knew when she might need it on a mission.
“Non-dominant holds the bow, dominant pulls the string.” He handed her the bow and an arrow. Natalia closed her fingers around the metal handle. It wasn’t the foldable one he’d used at their first encounter, it was a little bigger and certainly heavier. She held the bow, trying to mimic the way he usually did it, holding the string loosely, the arrow not yet in position.
“That thing’s quite heavy,” she observed.
Clint shrugged apologetically. “Yeah, it's the right weight for me, but for you, it's not perfect, I'm afraid. It's not too bad, though, we'll manage for now. Try to pull back the string…” She did and he grimaced. “Yeah, definitely not great. Never mind, it’s just for fun, right?”
She nodded, considering if he expected to figure the arrow out herself. Theoretically, it was easy, sure, but she would have preferred a little guidance so she wouldn't do it stupidly wrong.
Clint made a step towards her but hesitated.
“May I show you?”
She took a second to realize he was asking for permission to touch her, then she nodded slightly. He carefully guided her into position, showing her how to let the arrow’s end click in.
“Okay, now pull the string back to your cheek. Not with your full hand…” He chuckled a little. “Just index and middle finger.”
Natalia blushed. “Sorry,” she murmured.
“No problem. Aim over your hand, yeah, that looks good. Give it a try.”
Natalia aimed carefully, almost anxiously, Clint thought. Apparently, the only thing that mattered in her mind was the result, not the process. When she let go of the string he watched her face and saw… worry? Fear? Definitely no positive excitement.
He threw a look over to the target, second-best ring, almost third.
“See, that wasn’t bad!” He smiled, but hers in reply didn’t seem genuine.
“You can be honest with me, Agent Barton, no need to sugarcoat when I screw up.”
Clint frowned in surprise.
“But… I meant it, it wasn’t bad! You never used a bow before, you can’t expect to hit Bull’s-Eye on first try, nobody does. Did you hit the center when you first learned how to use a gun?"
Natalia hunched her shoulders. She remembered learning how to shoot and how much she had hated it…
“No.”
“See, that’s perfectly normal, don’t be so hard on yourself. You can’t instantly be good at everything, also you gotta leave at least one niche to me or I’ll feel bad!”
Natalia identified the last bit as humor and smiled obediently. Clint handed her another arrow.
“Why don’t you try again, a bit more relaxed maybe? It’s not about the result, just feel the process, that’s the nice part.”
How painstaking the process had been, fiddling around with the gun, failing to put it together correctly, aiming, arms already hurting from early morning push-ups. Not really knowing how to.
Firing and not even closely hitting. The recoil, the pain in the arms. The end of the lesson, being glad that it was over. And then Madame B came and told them that weapons had once been used for hunting and that it would be good practice to pretend that they were hunting as well, hunting for their food. That first lesson you had needed 20 of 50 shots at least second best ring to get a full meal. The next time 25, and the time after that 30 and at least 7 of them Bull’s-Eye. Until you needed 25 times center and the rest at least second best. Everything less meant getting less food. She had lost a lot of weight in the four months before she could meet the expectations and the challenge was practically abolished. It took months to gain it back and stop feeling dizzy and passing out.
Clint saw Natalia’s jaw tighten as she lifted up the bow again, aiming even more carefully this time. She shot, hitting closer to the next best ring, but it was painfully easy to tell that she was only anxious to hit well and didn’t feel the power he felt when shooting.
When Clint didn’t give her another arrow she pressed the bow back into his hand.
“I’m sorry I can’t fulfill your expectations,” she said stiffly. Clint smiled a little sadly.
“I wish I could show you what I feel doing it. It’s so empowering to me and you hate it so much.”
“I can tell what it means to you,” Natalia replied. “I feel the same doing other things, but shooting… it has a lot of negative connotations for me.”
“I bet it does. Only a killing technique… takes away the magic, I s’ppose.” He put the bow back over his shoulder. “Let’s get moving, shall we?”
Natalia nodded and followed him out.
“What do you feel this way about?” Clint asked her carefully as they were walking down the hall. She looked at him, a half-smile on her lips.
“Dancing,” she admitted.
Clint chuckled.
“Yes, of course, how’d I not guess that! I knew the moment I met you that you weren’t faking that.”
He looked at her more carefully.
“And everything else is just work?”
Natalia met his glance, the quick smile gone, her face now serious.
“Yes.”
“But you don’t hate combat as much, I don’t think.”
Natalia shrugged.
“Care to show me a few moves?” Clint asked cautiously. “I could show you more shooting in return, or I could show you the town or anything else you’d like.”
“Sure. Right now?”
“Why not?”
They entered a training room seven minutes later and went into an empty ring. Natalia tied her hair into a ponytail.
"What do you want me to show you?" she asked somewhat stiffly like it was an assignment rather than the simple practice he had intended.
He shrugged, grinning.
“I have no idea how good you are. How about we first have a spar and then talk about moves? So you know where I stand?”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
Natalia went into battle stance, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Clint followed.
For a minute or two, they circled each other. Clint was surprised that Natalia wouldn't attack him, surely she wasn't scared of him…
He made the first move, quite carefully. She blocked him, taking the full blow. He frowned and threw a hit again, letting another one follow. She didn’t make a move.
Getting impatient, he abandoned the cautious strategy, moving closer. She let him land two more hits before she moved at lightning speed. Before he could even comprehend her movement, he was lying on the ground, gasping as the air was pressed out of his lungs. Natalia had her arm on his neck, not quite pressing down.
“And I thought you’d be easy on me!” He laughed and freed his arms. Natalia was back on her feet before he could even touch her. This time she attacked first.
Clint quickly knew he had no way of standing against her. She didn’t hurt him, but in a real fight, she would have killed him in a matter of barely a minute if necessary. He had never seen anything like it.
“Okay,” he panted. “Enough for me, I’ve not been on the ground that much since I was a bloody noob.”
“I’m sorry.” Natalia shrugged. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
Clint shook his head.
“For getting better, I need my feelings to get hurt. But dammit, thank god you chose not to fight me, I wouldn't have lasted long if I had gone against you."
“You could have shot me from afar,” Natalia commented. Apparently, she wasn’t in the mood to take praise for anything today. Clint wasn’t sure what to do.
“Can you show me that figure you did, the last one? Do you think I can learn that?”
Natalia nodded.
“It’s actually quite simple,” she said. “Arm like this, see, and then…”
They were perfectly unaware that Agent Coulson was watching them from outside, observing how Natalia taught Clint the figure, patiently and placidly, how they ate in the cafeteria afterward, how casual their talk seemed, more than he had ever seen in Natalia before.
Later, he went up to Fury’s office. There was something he wanted to discuss.

◄◄◄►►►

“Oh, hi!” Clint smiled at Natalia who returned the gesture. She was dressed in her black S.H.I.E.L.D uniform, half-zipped up, hair tied back neatly in a similar fashion to Agent Hill. Clint was in uniform, too.
“Hi,” she replied quietly and stopped to let him pass. He nodded at her and went to the elevator. She followed.
“What floor?” He asked, hand hovering above the keyboard.
“Highest,” Natalia answered.
“Funny, me too.”
Clint pressed the button.
The elevator started going up smoothly. Clint leaned against the handrail.
“So, what are you doing up there?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation running. Natalia seemed to consider, probably going through the guidelines to determine if she was allowed to tell.
“I have a meeting with Director Fury,” she said then.
Clint’s eyes widened in surprise.
“No way, so do I!”
She frowned, interested.
“Now?” she asked. He nodded.
“Curious,” she remarked.
“Well, very much.” Clint shook his head. “Why would he want to see both of us?”
From the corner of his eyes, he saw fear flash over Natalia’s face.
“No, he’s surely not mad, that’s not what I meant. I mean, I know I haven’t done anything wrong for once, and you are not the kind to get into trouble anyway.”
The elevator came to a halt and they left. Clint saw Natalia gulping, her fists clenched. Apparently, his remark had scared her. And it proved what he had suspected all along, that Natalia was still scared of Fury even though there was no real reason for it.
“Come, let’s find out,” he said easily, but he couldn’t look past the tension in her posture as she nodded.
They followed the hallway to Fury’s office and Clint took to the knocking. Coulson opened for them, noticing Natalia’s unease right away.
“Agent Barton, Agent Romanoff, do come in.” He nodded at Natalia calmingly, mouthing “It’s okay”
Natalia indeed relaxed a little bit. Clint whistled internally, impressed, but not overly so, if anyone got through to Natalia, it would be Coulson.
The two agents entered Fury’s office and took the offered seats next to each other.
Coulson took his position behind Fury.
“So,” the Director began. “You wonder why I asked both of you to come in. Well, Agent Coulson has told me that you have been training with each other, and quite contently so.”
Natalia nodded a little, Clint frowned.
“Well, yeah, we do. So what?” he asked, feeling like he should speak up for both of them. Natalia looked at him, visibly shocked by his lack of courtesy. Fury scoffed.
“Give me two seconds to come to the point, will you, Barton? Great. Well, you two each have very unique skill sets. They are complementing each other well, combined you have every quality a S.H.I.E.L.D agent could ever wish for.”
“Well, thank you for the praise,” Clint commented, but Fury ignored him.
"Agent Coulson and I believe that your skills could be utilized in a better way if you actually combined them. In real life, in a partnership, so to say."
For a few seconds, you could have heard not only the pin dropping but also the whispering of the air as it fell. Again, it was Clint who spoke up.
“Ahem, what? You want us to work together?”
Fury nodded, ignoring the disbelief in his tone. He didn’t even try to say something, knowing Clint would interrupt.
“Like, in a strike-team? On missions?”
Natalia had not shown any reaction yet, her eyes were switching between Fury and Clint in barely hidden amazement.
“We believe,” Coulson replied calmly, “that you two would make for a great unit, with a bit of practice.”
Clint lifted up his hands, eyes flashing.
“I’m out!” he announced. “I don’t do teams, I work alone!” He turned to Natalia briefly. “Please don’t take this personally or anything, it’s not about you, I just thought I had been clear that I don’t want to work in a team!” The last half was directed at Fury, in an accusing tone.
Anxiously, Natalia looked at the man with the eyepatch. Was Barton taking it too far? Would Fury be annoyed? Would there be repercussions for his disobedience?
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said quietly, trying to calm the mood and keep Barton from going further. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to… I’ve been trained to work alone, too. I don’t think I could work… with another person. I’m sorry.”
A shiver ran through her body, she clenched her fists, nails digging deeply into her skin. She wasn’t supposed to speak up, she should be obeying… But maybe she could keep Fury from punishing Barton if she was being polite…
“Thank you for your honest opinion, Agent Romanoff,” Fury said after a few seconds. He didn’t sound mad, but that didn’t mean anything, he might conceal it…
“I understand your position,” Fury continued, directed at both of them. “This is a new idea, it’s frightening. But it might be incredibly beneficial.”
“But we don’t want to,” Clint interrupted again. This time he saw Natalia flinch and the quick anxious look she gave him. Fury’s mouth formed a discontent grimace.
“It’s not always about what you want, Barton. It’s about what you need and what S.H.I.E.L.D needs.”
Coulson who had been silent until now stepped in.
“You might not be used to working in a team, you might not have been trained to that, maybe even trained to do the exact opposite." He smiled at Natalia warmly but didn't get a reaction. “That doesn’t mean you can’t learn it. In training, you are working well with each other, I’ve seen it myself.”
Clint crossed his arms but kept his voice calm this time, not wanting to make Natalia uncomfortable.
“What about 'never fix a running system'?”
Fury scoffed.
“We’re not fixing anything. You will still be going on solo missions. We’re adding an extension to the system, one might say.”
“I’m afraid the extension ain’t compatible,” Clint fired the metaphor back at him.
“Listen, Clint…” Coulson tried to intervene, but Clint didn’t let him
“I’m not doing it! I’m working alone, Natalia’s working alone, we’re fine as it is!” He realized that he was talking over her and shifted down a gear. Not that she would have complained anyway. “I mean, I don’t know if she’s fine, so if she wants a partner, find her one. But it shouldn’t be me.”
For a few seconds, the room was silent. Then Fury leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“Fine. Let me offer you a trade-off. Agent Coulson is going to train you together –Barton, do not interrupt me!” Clint closed his mouth again. Fury continued. “You’ll honestly try to make this work, to see if you are fit for teamwork. Honestly. If you’re so sure it won’t work, trying your hardest should prove you right. I give you two months. If it doesn’t work out, if we all agree on that, we won’t waste any more time on the arrangement and you two can go your separate ways.”
Clint scoffed but nodded. At least this had a way out.
“Sounds great. If that ends the discussion once and for all.”
“What do you say, Agent Romanoff?” Fury asked even though it was pretty obvious that Natalia would say anything to finally get out of this situation. Indeed, she nodded immediately.
“I agree, that sounds like a good strategy.”
Fury nodded.
“Good to hear. You’ll start right away.”

◄◄◄►►►

Coulson led them to a training room, all three of them remaining in awkward silence. Natalia seemed subdued and withdrawn and Clint wasn’t sure what exactly it was, his speaking up to Fury, saying that he didn’t want to work with her, her own troubles with it? Possibly a combination. He decided to skip calling out Coulson for watching them, he would have to do that without her present.
“In the simulations we have here,” Coulson began. “there is a partner mode. Means you have to work together to finish it. For starters, I’d just like to see how you do without any preparation.”
Clint looked at Natalia briefly. She met his eye, visibly uncertain. He shrugged.
“Let’s just try,” he commented, actually directing it at her. She nodded.
“Okay.” Coulson handed them the wristbands which allowed them to interact with the simulation and started the program.
Blue holograms appeared all over the room or rather the massive hangar-like hall. It was the biggest training room in all of the Triskelion and –Clint stepped aside to let a wall move out of the floor –it had all the cool stuff. The two agents found themselves in an empty room, no hostile forces to be seen. Without another look, Clint moved left, to the wall. Natalia followed him with her eyes before she moved right. Apparently, they would do this simulation by themselves.
The solo act worked quite well for the first room and for the second one. In the third one, they encountered hostiles for the first time, blocking the door. They both shot their electronic weapons until all were gone and continued.
Clint fell behind Natalia a little when the parkour turned into a narrow maze that you had to climb and crawl through. He considered himself good at it, but she was just on a whole different level. Of course, she was also smaller, so it was easier for her, he comforted himself.
Climbing over the last block he saw that the next room had been designed to be a partner task. The door had a button on each side, too far apart to press simultaneously. He just wanted to call out for Natalia to wait for him when she already narrowed her eyes, crouched like a tiger before a jump, and catapulted herself into the air. Astonished, Clint watched how she threw her body in a sort of vertical spin, gracefully stretching her body so far that she could press one button with her finger and the other with the tip of her foot.
The door opened, surrendering to the simple greatness of this maneuver and since it opened horizontally Natalia slipped through without even landing properly in between. Clint sprinted towards the door.
With a loud bang, his hands hit the metal. Too slow.
“Barton?” Natalia’s voice asked from the other side. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, don’t worry. Can you open the door on your side?” he asked.
“No, nothing I can see.”
“Okay, go on then, finish the mission if you can.”
“Sure.”
He heard her running off.
Considering for a few seconds, he created two throwing disks from his wristband and threw them simultaneously at the buttons. He couldn't do whatever on earth Natalia had just done, but he had his own way of solving problems.
As far as he could tell, he had hit both at the same time, but nothing happened. He tried again and failed.
Behind him, someone cleared their throat.
Clint spun around to see Coulson walking up to him. The extendable walls disappeared into the ground around him.
“What the hell, Coulson, I…”
“The door won’t open,” Coulson interrupted simply. “It’s locked after opening the first time.”
“That’s kind of unrealistic.” Clint crossed his arms.
“But not impossible.”
Clint watched the walls in front of him disappearing as well.
“But Natalia could still finish the mission, it’s not fair you’re ending it now!”
“Natalia got eliminated three seconds ago.” Clint wished he couldn’t see the disappointment in Coulson’s face. Coulson wanted them to work hard and they’d really not done supremely well.
Natalia walked over to them.
“From three sides,” she murmured. “Didn’t stand a chance.”
“Hey,” Clint said, trying to ease the mood “It’s the first try, can always go better.”
“Yes,” Coulson replied sternly, still with that disappointed tone. “That’s it for today, I’ll figure out a training strategy until tomorrow. Meet me at 8:30 in conference room 6.”
The two agents gave a nod. Natalia tried to meet Coulson’s eyes, but he was busy writing something into his notebook. Swallowing hard, she left the training room.
Barton followed her, even calling out for her, but she didn't hear him. Only in her room, she allowed herself to breathe through. She was shaking all over unwillingly, breathing clipped and hasty.
Why’d they put her into this? She wasn’t made to work in a team… Had she been mistaken about Barton’s signals? He had wanted to do it alone, hadn’t he? She couldn’t have known about the door… Why would Fury think it was a good idea to put her with another person? She couldn’t deal with the responsibility, she’d never worked together with anyone… She could be a good solo agent, but this was too much…
Natalia dug her teeth deep into her arm, biting herself until her breathing calmed down.
She could do better, she’d make the simulation work. It was just a matter of sharing tasks, like on the mission assisting. She could figure that out. She could make a plan and try to make it work.
She got up from her sitting position in the middle of the circle on her carpet and held her arm under cold water so it wouldn’t show a bruise from the biting. Then she sat down at her table and started sketching out the training parkour as far as she’d gone through it.
She’d make it work. She wouldn’t disappoint again.

◄◄◄►►►

“Didn’t see you in the canteen last night,” Clint pointed out a bit awkwardly as they met the following morning. “You seemed pretty upset.”
Natalia shrugged, avoiding his eye.
“I thought about how we could do better in the parkour,” she breathed, almost inaudibly.
Clint didn’t say that they actually shouldn’t do better if they didn’t want to be stuck in a partnership together, but he didn’t.
“Okay, wanna share it?”
“I think it will be a little different next time,” Natalia began carefully. She was looking at her hands in her lap, talking fast and quietly. “But I thought we might agree on general things like I always go right and you always go left, or something like that. I think we had quite a high level of overkill, too, we both aimed at the middle first. It would be more efficient if we started on the outer targets if possible. Of course, we should use the doors together next time. And in the part of the simulation I was in alone, there were four directions for hostiles to come from, I think it’s supposed to train agents to… have each other’s backs…”
Clint nodded. He was impressed. For someone who had supposedly been isolated for her whole life, that wasn’t badly thought out.
“Natalia is not wrong about that,” Coulson commented. He was standing a few feet away and had –of course –listened to the whole conversation. He gestured them to come into the room. “In fact, that’s basically all I had for you about that first attempt yesterday. At least you’re self-aware, that’s great.”
They all sat down. Coulson didn’t seem as disappointed as he had yesterday, but his face was serious.
“So, partnership,” he began “Certainly not what you showed yesterday, if I may be so blunt. That is, except for one tiny moment when Agent Romanoff waited to check if Agent Barton was alright. That also was the only communication that occurred which is… not ideal. When you know each other well and have worked together for a while, you will be able to do missions without verbally communicating, but you’re not there yet. You have to talk to each other, or make gestures, or agree on general rules as Agent Romanoff suggested. I forgive that lack on your side, Natalia, I know you have been trained that way and it’s a lot to ask to shake it just yet. You, Clint, though, should have a basic understanding of communication. It should be your task to help Natalia with a thing she’s unfamiliar with, not the other way around.”
His voice was quite strict when he addressed Clint. The blue-eyed man found himself looking away. Coulson was the closest he had to a mentor and no matter how hard he tried not to admit it, he wanted to make Coulson proud.
“Sure,” he murmured.
Coulson continued. “The overkill thing is true, but that’s also a matter of communication. The door, however… I’m astounded at what lengths you both are willing to go just to not do the easiest way together.”
Natalia blushed, hunching her shoulders in embarrassment.
“You gotta admit, though, quite an impressive stunt she pulled off there,” Clint commented.
Coulson smiled a little. "I didn't say it wasn't, in fact, I was quite impressed myself. I just don’t understand the reasoning behind it, two more seconds and you could have pressed the button simultaneously.”
Natalia shifted on her chair uncomfortably.
“I… I don’t really know why I did it… I suppose I didn’t think of Agent Barton that moment, I was just searching for a solo solution.”
“I noticed that.” Almost jealously, Clint noted that Coulson’s voice was softer when speaking to Natalia. Either he saw the blame more with Clint or he thought it was the only way to not scare her. Probably both. Coulson continued. “I won’t go into what I think was each of your reasoning, I think I know and you know yourselves, too. For the next simulations, I’d simply ask you to do it together, don’t try to dodge the premise, it’s not the alternative solutions I really want to see from you, okay?”
Both nodded.
Coulson gave them a smile. “Let’s try another one, shall we?”

◄◄◄►►►

They tried another. They went through the parkour countless times during the next days, sometimes better, sometimes worse. Natalia was smart enough to guess what a partnership would require, though the media wasn’t of much help in that regard, seemingly partnership wasn’t that interesting to make movies about. She wanted to do well, not really giving much consideration to how the partnership would affect her life, she didn’t think it would much, most of her early mission partners she didn’t even know the name of. The only thing that really concerned her was the responsibility. It was scary to think she would be required to protect someone else during her mission –something she correctly guessed to be more important than the mission’s success. But if Fury wanted her to, she’d not disappoint him.
Clint on the other hand knew well enough how to do better in the simulations. Theoretically. Practically it felt almost impossible to communicate with Natalia, having her behind him, trusting her virtual life to him, that made him uncomfortable even though the only thing he really had to do was keep shooting. He stopped being around her in their free time though he always sat down with her in the canteen, not daring to let her down and have her sit alone again. Not that she would have complained.
He didn't openly do badly in the simulations, he followed the tips that Coulson gave them or the suggestions Natalia shyly made every now and then. He knew he couldn't be too open about not wanting to do this. This way, hopefully no one would notice.

◄◄◄►►►
Three weeks into the experiment
◄◄◄►►►

“Barton,” Fury stated the obvious and gestured towards the chair “Take a seat.”
Clint sat down, unusually polite and almost subdued.
“Thank you, Sir. I wanted to talk about the whole partner situation.”
Fury raised his brows.
“The two months aren’t over. Also, as far as I’m informed there’s actually some progress.”
Clint shifted, eyes nervously wandering across the room.
“Yeah… Kind of. Natalia’s trying really hard and she’s good at it. She would be a great partner to anyone you pair her with. That’s why I’m here.”
“Alright, get to the point.”
Clint looked up, straightening himself.
“Thing is, this won’t work,” he said bluntly, adding more softly “I can’t make it work. I can play along and pretend and all that, but I can’t work with her. In the end, I’d let her down. And that’s the last thing I’d want to put on her, she’s been hurt enough, she doesn’t need me to be the next one.”
“If you want to make it work…” Fury began, but Clint interrupted him.
“That’s not the point! It just… give her the partner she deserves, a better one, someone who can actually work with her. Someone who’s worth her trust.”
Fury crossed his arms and leaned back.
“You know, I can’t just pair her with anyone,” he pointed out. “I need someone with a matching personality. I chose you for a reason.”
“Then, with all due respect, for this time you were wrong.”
It was the first sentence that displayed a certain level of courtesy. Normally one might well get the impression that Clint was disrespectful and quite a rogue and wonder why Fury allowed this behavior. This one sentence, though, showed the underlying relationship that was way more precious than any faked politeness.
Fury’s voice was calm and serious.
“I don’t think I am. Skills, personality, perspective, it all matches well. The only thing in the way is your fear.”
Clint wanted to protest loudly, but his actual response was quite put together.
“I’m not afraid. I’m concerned Natalia’s investing in something that isn’t worthwhile.”
“I don’t think she’s formed as deep of an emotional attachment as you think. She’s too careful to let her guard down just yet. She won’t be heartbroken if it doesn’t work.”
“Maybe not, but she’ll think it’s on her to make it work.”
She already does, he added silently, Whenever I screw up she just works twice as hard. She’s bound to be used by whoever works with her, unwillingly or not.
“What do you want me to do, Barton?” Fury asked challengingly, but not visibly irritated. Clint met his eye firmly.
“Stop this experiment while it’s still possible. There is no use in dragging it out further.”
Fury nodded.
“Thank you for the inside, but I won’t. The trial was two months and trying to make it work and I will not stop this 'experiment' until I’ve seen you try and fail. Trying to make it work, not trying not to like you are doing right now. And don’t bring Agent Romanoff’s emotions into it, we both know this isn’t really about her, it’s about you. The two-month period stands."
Clint knew he had lost the fight. Fury’s mind was set. He sighed deeply. “Alright then.”

◄◄◄►►►

“Agent Barton, may I have a word with you?”
Clint could tell it had taken quite a bit of courage for Natalia to ask him that. They were just finished having dinner and he actually wanted to go home and watch a movie now. He had eaten here for Natalia’s sake, after all, he kind of was the only contact she had.
“Of course, want to go outside? It’s still quite warm.”
“Okay.”
They went outside in silence and Clint, sensing she had no idea how to start, led her to the nearest bench. She sat down on the edge, chipping at her nails like she had done at their first encounter. It took a full minute before she spoke.
“May I be frank?”
Clint raised his brows. Someone was being formal today…
“Sure, always be.”
Natalia’s gaze met his through a curtain of hair before she looked back at her hands.
“I think you’re not helping your own cause the way you act right now,” she said and then hesitated for a few seconds. “I feel like… like Director Fury would be more understanding if you gave him your real reasoning rather than pretending you can’t do teamwork.”
Clint scoffed like you do when you try to conceal that the other person hit a little too close to home.
“I’m really not great at it. I’ve always worked alone.”
Natalia ignored his statement.
“You see, I understand your reasons,” she continued. “I think I might be able to help prove you right so you have… an actual argument.”
Clint frowned, confused.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I know what you mean. For starters, I don’t think you know my reasons.”
Natalia smiled uncomfortably and shrugged.
“It’s not really that hard to guess… I don’t have illusions.” He wanted to ask what she meant, but she spoke a bit too fast for him to interrupt. “You see, I could let you get eliminated next time we do a simulation, not have your back… I know it’s not overly correct, but… then you’d have proof that I am… then you have evidence that you can’t trust me. Then there’s no one who could blame you for not wanting to work with me.”
Clint’s first impulse was to accept the offer without another thought. This was the way out he needed, this was a brilliant idea… It was only then he thought of what she had actually said.
“Hang on, is that what you think my reasoning is?”
Natalia shrugged again, briefly looking at him again.
“I appreciate you are trying to protect my feelings, but there’s no need to. I know well enough what I am. No one should be asked to work with me.”
Her tone was humble, not ashamed as much as certain. She looked him in the eye, almost like she could be upright with him now she had recognized her own worthlessness.
Clint shook his head in shock.
“Natalia, you got that all wrong! I’m so sorry I made you feel I… It’s not about you, really. I trust you to have my back, I… I would feel the same about literally anyone else, you gotta believe me that. Honestly, you’d make a great partner to anyone!”
His rambling seemed to put Natalia off, much more than her own level of self-deprecation.
“That’s very kind of you to say, but…”
Clint interrupted her, a bit more fiery than intended.
“You can tell if I’m lying, can’t you? You’re one of the best spies there is, you can tell if I’m being genuine. Try me. I am serious, you’d make a great partner.”
Natalia obediently observed and assessed his genuineness. She frowned, visibly puzzled.
“I don’t understand, if you think that, then why…”
“Because I wouldn’t make for a great partner. Every time we screw up, it’s my fault. You deserve someone better.”
Clint had decided there was no reason to lie. That was the reason and it was only fair to tell her. Natalia laughed a little, in a sad, breathy exhale.
“Better? But you treat me much better than I…You could be a good partner if you wanted to.”
Dammit, she was being genuine, too. She actually believed that.
Clint averted his eyes.
“If you knew my past failures, you wouldn’t say that.”
Natalia shrugged again.
“You don’t know all of mine and you say I could be. We don’t have to repeat any mistake we made, we can grow and change and do better.” She got up, adding in a half-whisper “I want to believe that, otherwise I might just as well lock myself up and throw away the key. Good night, Agent Barton.”
She left without looking back. Clint sat still, mind racing.

◄◄◄►►►

“Hey, Coulson. Hi Natalia.”
“Hello Clint,” Coulson replied amiably and Natalia bowed her head a little. Clint shifted his weight uncomfortably. When Coulson turned to enter the right code for the simulation, he stepped closer to Natalia.
“I considered what you suggested yesterday,” he said in a low voice. Natalia looked back at him without blinking.
“The offer stands,” she replied quietly.
Clint nodded, giving a lop-sided smile.
“I appreciate that, but I have to reject it,” adding “I can’t prove anything that way, not to the boss, not to myself.”
Coulson turned to them, handing them their wristbands. Impossible to say if he had listened, but most likely he had.
“Let’s do it, shall we?”
Clint gave Natalia a smile and she smiled back. Her wristbands blinked like in confirmation. She was ready.

◄◄◄►►►
Eighth week of the experiment. Evaluation phase
◄◄◄►►►

Nick Fury really wished Natalia wouldn’t look at him with this slightly frightened look like he wanted to eat her alive. What in this damn world had he ever done to scare her?
“Agent Romanoff, we would like to hear your evaluation of the partner program you and Agent Barton went through. Be honest and upfront, no need to guise your feelings.”
Natalia straightened a little, the internal struggle of not hunching her shoulders against her will strangely visible. Her eyes met his for a millisecond, then she looked away again.
“Uhm, well… I think it went quite well? At least in the end I felt like the simulations worked better and we… I learned to predict what he might do in some situations.” She bit her lip. “I’m not sure if Agent Barton wants to work with me, though.”
“Why not?”
She managed to withstand his glance longer this time.
“Well, Sir, I would understand if he didn’t want to, I’ve always taken care of myself only, I’m not sure if I would trust me in his position.”
“You feel like he wouldn’t trust the Black Widow?”
“Perhaps, Sir.”
Fury was close to saying "Amongst all the stuff that might be going on, that’s the one thing I’m sure is bullshit”, but he refrained from any comment. Instead, he switched topics.
“What about you? Do you think a partnership would be possible and beneficial, only taking your own feelings into account?”
Natalia swallowed, nervously moving her fingers. Coulson hoped she’d eventually learn to be more comfortable voicing her opinion. He smiled at her, trying to encourage her. She breathed in.
“Well, I see the benefits… I’m not sure… if I’m worthy of the responsibility… but overall, yes. I think it could be possible with some work put into it. And if Agent Barton wants to, of course,” she added.
Fury nodded.
“Good. Thank you for your opinion, Agent Romanoff. You are dismissed.”

◄◄◄►►►

Speaking to Clint Barton was uncannily different from speaking to Natalia, Fury himself noted how his tone switched when Clint sat down in his office.
“So, Barton, the two months are over. I can say I’m convinced you tried your best after all. So, give me your opinion.”
He wasn’t quite sure what he expected. Clint shrugged.
“Uhm, yeah… what do you want to hear? I mean, I guess you were right, I didn’t try properly and that wasn’t fair on Natalia. I still don’t think I’d be a great partner,” he clarified hastily.
Fury raised his eyebrows.
“You realize I’m not asking you to marry her, right? Just going on missions together and if possible not jump at each other’s throats every time you meet.”
Clint half-laughed.
“Yeah… She seems to be able to bear with me, that’s something,” he said thoughtfully. “And I mean, she’s easy to get along with. I just… I don’t want to cause her unnecessary pain.”
Coulson decided to intervene. He had not approached Clint before, but now he noticed a shift and thought it was the right moment to bring it up.
“Might I just say that you are projecting past experiences onto the present? Maybe it’s a good idea to let that go and consider the person you are and what you are willing to do. If you are willing to put in enough effort and take the necessary responsibility. If you’re capable to make better decisions and prevent the pain not through staying away but through being responsible. Because I think you are.”
Clint smiled a little.
“You always see the good in me, Coulson?”
“I see the good and the bad, the work and the struggle, in both you and Natalia.”
“Ah, yeah, what did she say about this?” Clint asked, interestedly.
Fury interrupted before Coulson could respond.
“I want to take both of your opinions separately so they’re unbiased. Do you believe a partnership would be possible with enough time and effort put into it?”
Clint allowed himself a minute or two of consideration. It was very easy for him to just say no now, but he was a generally honest person and also he kind of didn’t want to let the mistakes he’d made… this would always be him until he proved himself he could be more.
He sighed.
“Gosh, I wish I could just throw this under the bus and move on with my life… But yes, dammit, yes, I think it could be.” He exclaimed it defiantly, unwillingly, before he added almost shyly “If she wants, too, that is.”
He hadn’t seen Fury smile –possibly ever? But he saw Coulson beam at him and the little characteristic Fury-smirk on the Director’s face and knew it was what they had hoped for. Apparently, Natalia would be stuck with him a little longer.
“Thank you for the evaluation, Agent Barton.”
Hopefully he would not make them regret it.

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

Clint's back!
And he's accidentally got himself a partner as well XD Idk, I'ver read a lot of fics where Nat is the grumpy partner who doesn't really want to get attached while Clint is super easy, but for my versions of the characters, I thought it would be more fitting if Clint was the one trying to keep his distance as soon as he's supposed to make a commitment while Nat doesn't even fully understand what it will mean to her. I mean none of them understands what this choice will mean to them. (I'm so excited, so many feels in season 3 :D)
Also we are so close to the end already! :O
Thank you so much for your kind words and your support, it means so much to me <3 :)
xx

Chapter 18: S2/18: Expression and Interaction

Summary:

Finally accepting of their partnership, Clint and Natalia are starting to work well together. On a more personal level, though, they are still trying to figure each other –and themselves- out…

 

Music piece: “Unstoppable” by Sia
(Please ignore that it's later used in universe, I know that doesn't make sense with the timeline, but it fits way too well)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Expression and Interaction

◄◄◄►►►

It was a cool, but dry day in November. Natalia shivered a little when she left the Triskelion in her rather light training clothes. Russian or not, cold was really not her thing.
"Morning, Romanoff!" she heard a merry voice from behind. Even before turning around, she knew it was Clint Barton. He was dressed in sweats and a red scarf –an unusual color to see on him –and jogged over to greet her.
“Hey, Natalia. Going for a run?”
“Yes. I’ve let that slide for a bit, have to get back to it.”
Clint gave her a charming grin.
“Mind if I come? But, you don’t have to, I understand.” He shrugged easily. “Most people can’t stand me for a long time, and you have to put up with me a lot anyway, so… I get if you find me a pain in the ass, most people do.”
Natalia frowned.
“I don’t believe that. People greet you in the cafeteria all the time. I don’t find you a pain in the ass at all. Why would I?”
People are way more likely to find me cold and unsettling than finding you unnerving, she added silently.
Clint shrugged.
“I dunno. People say I talk too much, and you’re the least talkative person I know.”
“If you were to talk as little as I do, we might as well found a silent convent,” Natalia replied dryly.
Clint laughed for a ridiculously long time at that joke.
Natalia, unsure how to react, slightly boxed his shoulder and started running. Still laughing, he followed her.
They ran for around an hour and Clint soon stopped talking, too busy to keep up her pace.
“We’re not competing at a sprint championship,” he panted after some time. “Is this Russian jogging or something? So, rushing?” He grinned.
Natalia rolled her eyes.
“You’re going straight to pun-hell for that,” she commented.
Clint laughed.
“Has Fury taught you how to humor? You sound exactly like him.”
Natalia scoffed. “More running, less assuming, Agent Barton.”
She accelerated and he followed, groaning.
“Hey, just a sec,” he said after a few more minutes. “I need breakfast, and a new lung, can we stop real quick?”
Natalia slowed down and smoothly transitioned to walking. She didn’t mind stopping, she’d done well enough today. Clint stopped, too, breathing heavily.
“You’re a beast, Romanoff!” he panted. “And I thought it was the adrenaline, Jesus! You’re so good!”
Natalia shrugged.
“If you are after someone, you gotta keep up with them.”
He boxed her shoulder playfully and pointed at a doughnut shop across the street.
“You want something, too?”
“I already had breakfast.”
Clint shrugged dismissively. “So had I, but what about second breakfast? Elevensies? Luncheon? Afternoon tea, dinner, supper?”
Natalia looked at him in complete confusion, noticing his switch in tone, but not understanding why on earth he would suddenly sport an Irish accent.
“You haven’t seen Fellowship of the Ring yet?”
“No? Is that a quote from it?”
Clint shook his head in disbelief. “Girl doesn’t know the classics…” he murmured.
“That movie isn’t that old yet!” Natalia protested. “They don’t show it on planes yet, how would I have seen it?”
“Cinema?”
“I don’t go to the cinema.”
Clint spun around. “You’re kidding!”
Natalia shook her head. “Why would I, I’ve never been to a cinema so far."
Clint stared at her for a while, then raised one finger.
“Okay, I’ll ask Coulson for a session to go to the cinema with you. And we’ll watch Lord of the Rings, all of them.”
“That sounds like a threat. Aren’t they like ten hours long, all three of them?”
“Twelve, if you watch the extended editions. I had a friend who was a real fan, of the books, I mean, I’m practically an expert, I have all of them at home.”
Natalia shrugged. “Alright then, we’ll see if we can fit it in somewhere. Now get your second breakfast, or your luncheon, or whatever.”
Again, Clint laughed and disappeared into the shop, returning with four doughnuts, two of which he handed to her.
“You just try ‘em out,” he said. “No, that’s okay, they’re on me. I didn’t know what you liked, but after that one time in the ‘Chocolate Factory’ –there’s a new movie coming out about the Willy Wonka Chocolate factory just this month, did you know? –I figured chocolate would be a safe bet, and this one is raspberry, I think.”
Natalia didn’t say that she wasn’t used to a second breakfast, let alone doughnuts for breakfast, she said “Thank you” and ate a bit of both, before spending the next minutes wondering how to disguise that she didn’t want any more of them because she was full, but didn’t have any pockets to subtly store them in.
“Not your thing?” Clint asked, looking at her. She shrugged.
“No, they’re really nice, actually, I’m just… maybe later. Or do you want them?”
Clint grinned. “Natalia, you will learn quickly that you shouldn’t offer me food if you still want it. I can’t say no.”
Gratefully, Natalia gave him the rest of the doughnuts.
“That’s quite alright, I can always come back and get anything I want.”
Clint finished off the pastries in no time and they walked back to HQ. Clint found her walking speed much more agreeable than her running speed, he wasn’t sure if she was adapting his or if they were naturally on the same level.
They took the way through the mall, effortlessly blending in with the crowd and Clint talked about this and that, enjoying Natalia’s way of listening silently without seeming unnerved.
He was just talking about books that you read in school and that they were usually crap when he noticed she fell behind a little. He slowed down, too, returning to her.
Natalia had stopped in front of a shop window, glancing inside. Clint turned and got beside her to see what she was looking at.
“That’s pretty,” Natalia remarked quietly, pointing at a green blouse with leaves and flowers on it. Clint was surprised, he hadn’t thought that would be her style.
“Wanna go in?” he asked.
Natalia shook her head, turning away.
“No, don’t want to buy it anyway.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t need it. I’m saving money right now.”
Clint wondered briefly. “For the training phase?” he guessed. “But that can’t be much.”
“It was quite a bit, actually. I want to have it cleared as soon as I can.”
She walked on, not looking at any more shop windows. Clint followed.
“Isn’t clothing a necessary expense?” he asked, adding anxiously “You’re not saving any food money, do you?"
Natalia looked up briefly. “No, I’m eating just fine. And since I’m not naked there’s no need in buying any more clothes.”
Clint raised his eyebrows. “So? How many tops do you own?”
Natalia stopped again, considering. “Let me see,” she said slowly, “The one I’m wearing right now, I bought one with a print on it a while back, and two tank tops… oh, and I have the one you lent me, I quite forgot –“ she blushed “I’m sorry, I’ll give it back to you as soon as I have it washed.”
Clint shook his head quickly. “No, no, you keep that! I’ve not worn that tee in years, I’m not sure if it even fits me anymore, it was just rotting away at Charlie’s place. If you don’t want it, you can throw it in the trash.”
Natalia gave a grateful little nod.
“But you see,” Clint continued. “Four shirts is not a lot to wear. I mean, I get you want to get the debt out of the way, but a basic wardrobe really shouldn’t be too much. Like, you don’t even own a jacket or a warmer pullover, do you?”
Natalia shrugged. The whole situation seemed to make her uncomfortable.
Clint smiled his disarming smile. “See, you’re gonna catch a cold like that. It’s fricking November. Can’t we at least find you a jacket?”
Natalia shrugged again. “If you like,” she murmured and followed him reluctantly into a clothing store.
“Woman’s department,” Clint declared joyfully. “Let’s see if they have anything in your size, I have a feeling that all of this will be huge on you. Really, you’re so…” He made some wild gestures that were meant to show how dainty she was. Natalia frowned, slightly amused.
She allowed herself to look around, searching for a jacket which was the mission right here. It still wasn’t easy to decide what she liked, even the shirt she’d just stopped for she wasn't sure about, maybe it was something she subconsciously thought fit for one of her covers rather than something she –Natalia –really wanted. It was like the food, she knew she had a dislike for fish, but everything else was too hard to decide. She really hoped nobody would pay attention to the pattern, the fact she would order Meal A on Monday, Thursday, Friday, and Sunday, Meal B on the other three days and reverse order for the next week, no matter what each meal might be. She wondered how to go about this issue. What kind of jacket would have the widest variety of use? What would make her blend in the most?
“So, here are some jackets.” Clint grinned at her. “Tell me, what do you like, Miss Romanoff?”
Natalia forced a smile onto her lips and tried to make it seem like she was casually looking around.
She needed something medium, for summer and fall, she could pair that with a pullover for more warmth. Western, contemporary. For a 20-year-old… what was her profession? Espionage certainly wasn’t a good cover profession. What was her style?
Natalia clenched her fists. Natalia Romanoff was impossible to grasp, she didn’t want to be fake, but didn’t know how to be real. She didn’t want Natalia Romanoff to be just another cover.
“Hey, Natalia?”
She startled and looked up into Clint’s blue eyes.
“Yes? Sorry, did you say something?”
“You seem a bit overwhelmed.” He smiled again. “How about you just try a few things on and we see what fits you?”
Natalia would have agreed to anything but that actually sounded like a decent idea. She nodded.
“Okay…” Clint exclaimed grandly and went to a rail with various jackets. “That’s the smallest they have here, throw that one on just to see if it fits.”
He handed her a jacket and Natalia obediently put it on, finding it to fit well enough for something not tailored. Clint smiled.
“Okay, I’m not great at fashion, I basically throw on the same things every week and call it a day. Let’s see, most likely something neutral, right, so you can wear it with everything?”
Natalia nodded, looking at some of the stuff herself. Maybe she should just pick a cover she liked and take what they would wear… but then again all her covers had at least one aspect of their personality that she thoroughly did not like.
Clint handed her another jacket and she put it on. He tilted his head.
“I like it, but you’d look good in a paper bag, most likely. Do you like it?”
Natalia looked down at herself, trying not to panic. “I don’t know, I suppose it’s alright?”
Clint frowned. "That doesn't seem overly sure. Not your style? How about that grey one, bit of a Sherlock Holmes vibe?"
Natalia put the coat on, trying to disguise her faster breathing. She felt like there were thousands of little bugs crawling underneath her skin. The cold shop light was as bright as searchlights, stinging in her eyes.
“Too big,” she murmured, grateful to put it back. Not that it was ugly, but it was one option less to consider.
She jumped as Clint’s hand touched her shoulder.
“Natalia? You seem uncomfortable. Should we get out of here?”
His voice was friendly and slightly worried. Natalia breathed through and pulled herself together.
“No, it’s fine.” She forced another smile, immediately hating herself for it. She hadn’t wanted to be fake outside of her job anymore. “You’re right, I really need a jacket.”
Clint smiled encouragingly, his genuine, charming smile that made everyone forget about the bullshit he did, even Fury at times. He was always real, he didn't have to think about how to smile. She wished she could be like that, too.
“Alright, how about that; we’ll just try to narrow it down a little? Neutrals, so grey, brown, or black. No white, don’t you think, that’s a bit impractical, gets stained so easily.”
Natalia nodded quickly. Narrowing down sounded good.
"Okay, there we have a brown –Uhm, no idea what kind of jacket that is. A bit of a warmer lining, beige, sort of. Better or worse than the first one?"
He held up both jackets. Natalia gulped and focused on the practical aspect, which was easier. The brown one would most likely be too warm for summer, but it would be better for winter and it had a hood. Neither of those was rainproof.
“Better,” she decided and felt a strange relief as Clint put the other one back. One ruled out.
They repeated the procedure a few times and Natalia felt herself relax. She kept all style out of consideration and focused on getting something practical. She was good at practical things.
An assistant came over and asked if he could help them, but Clint declined, saying they were good.
“Wait a second,” he said a few minutes later. “C’mere, I want you to put that one on.”
Natalia came over and took the presented jacket, black leather, subtle black fleece lining, diagonal zipper. It reminded Natalia of her uniform and as she put it on she noted it fitted her well, better than the other ones she’d tried. Her shoulders straightened, she pulled the zipper halfway up, feeling the lining on her arms.
Clint pointed both index fingers at her.
“That is it, Romanoff!” he exclaimed excitedly, “That’s by far the best one yet. You like it, too, don’t you?”
Natalia quickly assessed the practical side. It was alright, though not perfect, most likely not waterproof, no hood. Leatherjackets can hint at a variety of styles depending on how they are paired. There is no singular implication as to who the wearer is or wants to be.
“It’s perfect.”

◄◄◄►►►

It was great to be on a solo mission again. Being outside, doing something, amazing. Clint was grateful that Fury had assigned him and Natalia with a solo mission each to ‘give them a break from each other’. Not that Clint needed a break, nobody could honestly need a break from Natalia, most of the time she was so quiet that one might forget about her presence altogether. She had not voiced the wish to have a break from him either, in fact, she never seemed unnerved or fed up with him at all. Clint hated to admit it, but he liked it, being more than just the guy everyone liked at their parties, but not really to hang out because they thought he wouldn't shut up. Maybe he was less talkative around Natalia, but he never felt like he had to be.
Nevertheless, great to be outside again. Maybe not the place to be outside in, desert of Nevada, but anyway.
Clint pulled up his car behind a big rock and covered it with a sandy tarp so it would be overlooked, at least at first sight. The sun was burning down and Clint put on sunglasses to help against the aggressive light. He checked his gun and the Taser he’d taken with him. He checked the small recorder in a button of his shirt, too. Everything worked nicely. Great.
“Reached location. Going into position now.”
He left his car and trudged over to the small RV in the middle of the desert, dust spiraling up with his every step. The rusty door creaked when he shoved it open.
The RV was old and had not been used in a while. Clint had a hard time closing the door again. He took off his sunglasses again. A few glances told him that his first impression had been wrong, someone had been here, but not for long. An empty can of coke, a few crumbs of a left-over meal.
Clint opened a cupboard and decided that there was no way he’d go in there. RVs were great, but not for hiding in them. This one, however, did have a hidden spot that was perfect for Clint’s purposes.
He installed a tiny camera, matching the interior of the RV perfectly… he had forgotten the name of the technology, something with reflective… chameleon panels, anyway.
Had Natalia been to the Helicarrier yet? It came to his mind because it had the same camouflaging technique. If she hadn’t seen it yet, hopefully, he’d be there when she did. Everyone who saw the carrier for the first time was positively overwhelmed, usually.
He settled in the small storing cupboard, carefully making sure that the floor was stable and wouldn’t suddenly succumb to his weight. He pulled an old mattress –or whatever the moth-eaten piece had once been –over himself and shifted his weight to be as comfortable as possible.
It would have been quite helpful, he thought, to have someone check if his ass was looking out or whether the recording would work that way.
Amused, he shook his head. Had he really just wished for a partner?
He leaned his head against the wood and waited.
After half an hour, Clint was sweaty and very bored. He had been sent here early, one hour before the scheduled meeting which he was to record. Three small adhesive trackers would secure the noose around the necks of all of these bastards. Clint would have to do a precise job, but precise was his middle name. Patience, not so much.
He pulled out his cellphone, searching amongst his newer contacts.
“What’s up?” he typed.
He hadn’t really expected an answer, but after just a few seconds he received one.
“Back from LA. Aren’t you on a mission?”
“Positive.”
“Why are you messaging me then?” And then “Problems?”
Clint smiled as he typed back.
“No, just bored. Enjoying the time without me?”
He could almost hear Natalia’s voice through the next message.
“Not particularly, I mean, I don’t mind, but I don’t mind being around you either. You?”
“I just messaged you.”
“I noticed that.”
“Well, doesn’t that say enough?”
This time, Natalia took a minute or two to reply.
“Why are you messaging me, though? You should pay attention to the mission.”
“I’m still waiting for my targets, relax.”
“Are you always this lax about your missions?”
Clint grinned.
“Get used to it :P.”
“Is :P a special symbol?”
Clint shook his head in disbelief. Natalia knew more about classical literature, music, and art, she spoke three times as many languages as he did and then there were things like this.
“Don’t you know emoticons? It’s a face, sticking out its tongue if you look at it from the side.”
She took a few seconds again.
“Oh, I see it now… Dumb question again.”
Clint was still writing his reply (“Come on, no big deal.”) when he got a new message.
“I see, there’s more of them :D.”
He laughed silently and replied with an “XD”.
“Informal use only?” Natalia asked then, which was very on character for her, she’d make sure she’d use it right.
“Fury wouldn’t be delighted to have them in his mission reports, I think ;).”
“Thought so B).”
“I see you’re getting acquainted with them real quick.”
“Doing my best.”
Neither of them wrote anything for the next few minutes.
“It’s so hot here,” Clint complained then.
“Targets still not there?”
“Nah, taking their time :,(.“
“Stay alert.”
“Okay, okay.”
“How’d your mission go?”
“Everything alright. No complications.”
“Great. Returning to HQ?”
“Just walking through the front door.”
Clint was about to formulate a reply when he heard a car stopping near him. Footsteps on the dry ground, indistinct voices. Quickly, he switched on the recording.
“Target’s arrived. Gotta go, see you later. Hawkeye out B).”

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia moved her fingers a little and went back to punching the punching bag. As always, she received a few weird looks from the other agents in the training area, especially when they left and she had not even taken a break yet. She found this work boring and repetitive, but it had to be done and she could formulate her latest mission report in her head while doing it.
“Agent Romanoff?” Natalia spun around and Phil Coulson lifted up his hands, smiling.
“Easy, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Natalia put her hands down, blushing in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry.”
“No problem. This, however-“ –he tapped the back of her hand with one finger – “is a problem.” He looked at her scoldingly. “I told you to wrap your hands. Now your knuckles are all sore again.”
Natalia hid her hands in her armpits. Her blush deepened.
“I’m sorry, I just forgot.”
“How can you forget that? It must hurt.” He didn’t say it sharply. Natalia knew from observation that this was ‘friendly scolding’ that was somehow well-meant and not supposed to be scary. She didn't fully understand it, but she tried to take it the right way.
“Don’t worry, I’m used to that.”
Coulson frowned and twisted his mouth a little. “Bad enough,” he muttered.
Natalia frowned, too, trying to understand what he meant, but failing to.
“Anyways,” Coulson said in his normal tone “You’ve boxed enough for today. Now, don’t argue, you’ve been here for hours without drinking a drop and that’s not healthy.”
Natalia shrugged. “Okay.”
Coulson smiled. “That’s good. Can you come to the conference room after you’ve changed?”
“New mission?”
“Don’t get too excited, it’s more planning than actual doing.”

◄◄◄►►►

“Before you leave,” Coulson said after the briefing, “I’ve got something I wanted to give you.”
Natalia looked at him, waiting politely as he produced a white carton box.
“It’s for training, sort of,” Coulson said. “You don’t have to, by no means, but I thought you might want to.”
Natalia opened the box carefully and pushed aside a layer of white crepe paper.
“Coulson!” she gasped.
“Please don’t say you can’t accept that. It’s a gift that I’ve been wanting to make since you said you enjoyed dancing.”
Natalia ran her fingers over soft, light-pink leather and a shiny satin ribbon. He had really given her ballet slippers… but no one at S.H.I.E.L.D ever danced.
"I couldn't get you real pointé shoes because I was told they had to be a perfect fit, but for training, those should work, right?" Coulson sounded anxious and she knew she had to formulate an appropriate response.
“But… you didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I wanted to. That boxing thing is alright and all, but you don’t really enjoy it. If you don’t want to dance, that’s alright, but I figured you should be able to.”
Natalia carefully took the shoes out of their packaging. They were soft and way prettier than the ones she had danced in before, since they had actual ribbons that you would tie like pointé shoes, and as far as she could tell they were the right size, too.
“Thank you, Coulson, I… but you really didn’t…”
Coulson made a dismissive gesture. “Take it as a birthday present or something.”
Natalia frowned.
“My birthday… isn’t until December, though… Also, why would I get presents for my birthday?”
Coulson laughed that little sad laugh that he sometimes did when she said something.
“Let’s say it’s for the last one. Or for the ones where you didn’t get any.”
Natalia tried to ignore that he hadn’t answered her question and that she had no idea what the rules for birthday presents were. Would she be required to give him something in return? She didn’t even know when his birthday was.
“Thank you,” she said again.
“You’re welcome.” Coulson smiled contently. “That’s all for now, Agent Romanoff.”
Natalia nodded and left, the box pressed against her body. Everything inside her screamed to go and dance.

◄◄◄►►►

Natalia stood in the empty training room and carefully tested the music box. She had found a program that played music that you picked and she entered ‘Swan Lake’, because that was a piece she’d always liked. The only thing she would never dance to anymore was ‘Sleeping Beauty’.
She was wearing her training clothes, it was not ideal, but for now, it would work.
Carefully, she took the new shoes out of the wrapping and ran her fingers over the leather and the satin. She slipped them on and almost tenderly wrapped the ribbons around her ankles. She’d never had shoes with ribbons till now.
They were a perfect fit even though they felt a bit weird since they were new.
Almost shyly, Natalia stepped into the middle of the room and went into first position. She was practicing every day as a morning routine, a few, soulless movements to loosen her muscles.
Now, however, she would dance.
The first plié came carefully, like a rusted music box coming back to life. Cautiously, Natalia allowed her feet to bend and her arms unfold like wings, letting the melody kick in.
Her muscles heard the music and did the work for her, it was all carved in perfectly.
Elegantly and almost effortlessly Natalia’s feet carried her through the Overture, then through the Swan Theme.
She was breathing calmly, the music coursing through her veins like magic. For the first time, she could allow the pictures to flood her brain, her imagination to carry her to Prince Siegfried’s palace, the beautifully frozen lake, she heard her own wings flapping as she transformed into a swan, moving gracefully, not even touching the ground.
She felt feathers falling down from her fingers as she bowed to the prince, telling him the story of the cursed swan princess and asking him to help her. She wouldn’t marry him, but they would be friends, partners in defeating Rothbart, and in Natalia’s mind they survived and thrived.
She hardly noticed the music changing, she had danced this so often that her steps came automatically. Only when someone started singing, she realized she was dancing to a pop song.
She might have stopped and switched the music, but her feet kept moving, not wanting to stop and suddenly she wasn’t following steps, she was creating them, not with the music, but inside it, filling every atom of her body, she was running, flying, soaring to the sky and something broke, something opened and she was breathing in for the first time.
She hadn’t noticed Coulson standing by the door, there could have been a fully grown T-Rex in the room and she would have kept on dancing.
He watched her, a small smile in the corner of his mouth. Never had he made a better present to someone, maybe he had never been more proud of a protégée of his.
Lightly, he closed the door of the room. He knew when he wasn’t needed, and the process of breaking one’s chains was one that you had to do on your own.

◄◄◄►►►

“Hey, look who’s back.” Natalia greeted Clint with a characteristic small smile. He grinned back.
“That would be me. How’s it going?”
“Alright. Did your mission go well?”
“As always.” He grinned as she frowned. “Okay, as most of the time.”
They walked down the hallway together, in fact, they had met up on the way to their partner training. Clint looked at Natalia more carefully.
“You’re chic today. Why no uniform?”
Natalia was wearing an off-white blouse and a black blazer over dark blue jeans. Her hair was curled. She shrugged.
“I have been on another mission, I’ve just come back from the briefing.”
“How did it go?”
“Alright.”
“Not tailored, though, the jacket you’re wearing.”
She shrugged again. “I know, it’s too big. It’s borrowed.”
“Do we have to go shopping again?” he teased. She chuckled and shook her head.
“It’s on my list for ‘sometime in the future’.”
“I would like to see that list one day.”
She raised her eyebrows. "No, you don’t.”
He laughed.
Agent Rumlow, the leader of the strike team, came around the corner. Clint noticed Natalia’s jaw tighten. Rumlow indeed looked at her as if he wanted to eat her alive. Natalia looked away. Clint felt the air buzzing with tension all around them until the other agent was out of sight.
“Woah,” he commented. “You two do not like each other, do you?”
Natalia shrugged. Her cheeks were flushed.
“Has he been mean to you?” Clint asked, worried.
Natalia’s fists clenched briefly.
“No, it’s fine,” she said dismissively. “He knows what I am, of course he doesn’t like me.”
Clint stopped abruptly and she turned around, surprised.
“First of all, you’re not a what,” he clarified firmly. “Secondly, no of course. I know much better what you did and I like you." Saying it, he realized it was true. He liked Natalia, and he didn't care one bit about what she had done before S.H.I.E.L.D.
“And thirdly,” he continued. “He’s inclined not to like you, but he has to treat you with respect anyway. You’re a S.H.I.E.L.D agent now, just like him. Know that if he ever says or does something, okay?”
He had spoken with a very firm tone. Natalia didn’t seem convinced, but she nodded.
“Okay,” she said softly, and then she smiled a little bit. Clint hadn’t really noticed, but he had said something and she knew he had been genuine. He had said he liked her.

◄◄◄►►►

The soldier raised his rifle, ready to eliminate his target. Natalia had her back turned on him, but Clint saw the danger immediately.
“Natalia!“ he called.
Without a question, Natalia ducked and dodged the bullet, slipped over the ground, and locked the bomb with startling expertise. Meanwhile, Clint sent an arrow and kept the hostile from firing at her again. The lights switched back to normal and the two agents got up from the floor of the training room.
"Thanks," Natalia said, nodding at Clint. He grinned lopsidedly.
“Well done,” Coulson said with an approving smile. “That’s all I have for you today, you can leave.”
Together, the two agents left the training room and Natalia watched amusedly how Clint gulped down about a gallon of water.
“Coulson was quite content with us, wasn’t he?” she remarked.
Clint swallowed and grinned at her again.
"He better be! We were awesome today! Even though," he added, "one day you’ll probably get killed cos of your name.”
“Because of my name?” Natalia asked, frowning.
Clint shrugged.
“Yeah. Natalia? Four syllables? Till I call that the guy has already shot you twice.”
“Are you saying my name is too long?” As often before, Natalia wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not, his irony was sometimes hard to identify.
“You’re name’s alright,” Clint corrected. “but not for the heat of action. You could shorten it for work.”
“Well, if that’s the thing you guys do…” Natalia replied, uncertainly. She had never… she had not shortened her name in a long time and wasn’t sure if she wanted to.
“We guys,” Clint corrected her softly. Natalia blushed and nodded.
“Right. We guys. If it’s common, what short form would you recommend?”
Clint took to the challenge immediately, his forehead in wrinkles.
“Okay… let me think… There’s Natalie, of course, but that doesn’t help at all… Nat. That’s pretty short.”
He caught her frowning and interpreted it as disapproval.
“You don’t like it? Too informal? … Let me see… Lia? No, that doesn’t fit you, not at all.”
They sat down on the bench in front of the changing rooms. Natalia bit her lip. Clint could tell she had gone from being slightly amused by his suggestion to actually considering it.
"Do you shorten your name?" she asked.
“How would you possibly…” Clint asked back, laughing. Impatiently, Natalia shook her head.
“I meant if Clint’s a short form. Of Clinton, perhaps?”
“Shhh,” Clint hushed her jokingly. “you can’t tell anyone!”
“So it’s true?” she persisted. Clint shrugged.
“Yeah, but I’ll kill you if you call me that.”
"Okay, sure," Natalia said, unbothered. She was too distracted to wonder why he didn't like his name. "Am I allowed to change my name? Like, officially?"
Clint’s eyes widened.
“That escalated quickly, why do you want to change your name? Like, that wasn’t what I meant, Natalia is perfectly fine!”
Natalia shook her head.
“No, no, I was just thinking…”
Clint narrowed his eyes, observing her. She doesn’t like her name, he thought, for a reason. I wonder what the reason is.
“Do you have a nice short form for your name?” he asked carefully, trying to move forward to the issue subtly. Natalia shook her head, clearly not meaning the gesture.
“No, I… I was thinking Romanoff, first of all. Everyone calls me like that anyway and I actually think I like… It fits better since I’m somewhat an American now.”
Look at that, Clint thought, look at her almost admitting she likes it better. He smiled.
“I don’t see any problem with that. But that wasn’t all, was it? You have something in mind, I can tell.”
Natalia gave him a short look of surprise, proving his point. She shrugged, trying to seem dismissive and unbothered.
“Yeah… just a wild thought… It’s not really much shorter than Natalia, though.”
She shrugged again, they were entering sensitive terrain right now. Clint balanced between being positively encouraging and pressurizing and wasn’t sure if he was succeeding.
“Never mind. I’ll shorten the short form. If I don’t like it, I’ll call you Nat,” he added jokingly.
“I don’t think it’s appropriate.”
“Nat? Too buddy-like, huh? Okay, I won’t use it,” he pedaled back. He remembered how his friend Brad had been called ‘toast’ in school, which some thought funny, but Brad had hated it. So Clint would certainly not call Natalia a nickname she didn’t like.
“Yes…” she replied distractedly. “I actually meant my thought. You know, Russian nicknames are a bit… nuanced… I’m not sure if I’m supposed to use this name or if it’s too intimate...”
She frowned, clearly unsure. Clint who had literally no idea about Russian nicknames decided to ask.
"Can you give me an example of how it works? With a different name?"
Natalia nodded, seemingly relieved to simply explain something.
“Yeah… Alexandra, for example… no, let’s take Alina. So, Alina would be her Christian name, but friends and family would refer to her as Alya, for example, colloquially. For a more intimate use, like her mother maybe, she might say Alinoushka, it’s just… a bit more tender, I’d say. And her boyfriend, or something, he might say Alinka, but Alinka can also be really offensive if it’s the wrong person saying it.”
Clint nodded slowly.
“That’s… complicated as hell, but also really interesting. So, you all have four names each? Like, if I hear someone use a certain form I know how they feel about you?”
Natalia nodded.
“Yeah, theoretically. I mean, it’s the same for Americans, isn’t it? Like William, Will, Billy?”
“That’s true… Never thought of that. Even though, I don’t shorten my name just with friends. I do it because I don’t like the longer form.”
Again, Natalia nodded.
“Yeah, that works, too. Alya is a name in its own right as well.”
“So your… the name you are thinking about is one this third or fourth stage of intimacy?” Clint ventured a little further. Natalia had started braiding her hair over and over. Now she looked at him briefly.
“No… it’s actually just the short form. I’ve just… I’ve never been called like that and I don’t know how it’ll sound out of somebody else’s mouth.”
“But you like it?”
“I think I do,” she admitted softly.
“I understand. How about you try it with me and if it doesn’t work for you, we’ll bury it together with ‘Clinton’ like it never existed?” Clint suggested.
“That sounds alright… I’m really not sure.”
Her look was slightly helpless, unsure what to do. Whatever this name was, it meant something to her, even if it hadn’t been used regularly.
“That’s okay,” Clint said calmingly. “Don’t freak out. You don’t have to bury it forever, you know?" he added, thinking whether she might mistake his suggestion for a one-way street. "You can still bring it back up if you’re not ready yet now. I just meant that I won’t mention it again.”
As she met his eyes now she seemed both grateful and strangely scared. This might be a big step, leaving behind the name that these people of hers had used, the one under which she had done all those crimes. This was a sort of fresh start.
She breathed through.
“Okay… So… For Natalia, the short form would be… Natasha.” She said it quickly, the word sounding a little strange as if she had never said it before, like a desperate pant. She shook her head, discontent with herself. “Natasha,” she repeated, and this time it had a melodious, yet strong sound to it. Clint nodded.
“Natasha,” he repeated the name, pronouncing it more American than she had done. “I like that. Sounds nice. How do you like it?”
She looked at him, eyes wide.
“Can you… can you say it?” she breathed almost inaudibly.
“Sure. Natasha,” Clint said again, deciding that the name fitted her perfectly. “Natasha Romanoff, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. How’s that sound?”
She nodded, almost hastily.
“It’s good,” she whispered, voice trembling. “It’s alright.”
She got up quickly, reaching for the doorknob. “I’ll get changed.”
“Natasha!” Clint called her back and she spun around. “That sounds like you,” he said simply. And the quick, faint smile on her face was one he should never forget.

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

Aw, look at all the fluff :) (*Enjoy it while it lasts*... I'm kidding. Or am I?)
Just a bunch of moments before we get down to business next chapter, because, you all know it's gonna be their first mission, it's very obvious, isn't it?
Also, I got a bit of headcanon that I couldn't fit in, about the movies:
So Nat absolutely read all the LoTR books as preparation as well as the Hobbit and in the end she was more of an expert than Clint when they watched the movies. You should have seen his face lol.
Also they went to the cinema a few weeks later. They watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith :D

So, with that being said, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and are excited for the finale and Season 3 as well, this has been a pretty nice ride with you :)

Chapter 19: S2/19: Better Brave than Sorry

Summary:

Eight months after Natasha joined S.H.I.E.L.D, she and Clint Barton are assigned with their first mission. Even though their superiors are convinced they are more than ready, both agents are incredibly nervous to mess things up…

Music piece: “Immortals” by Fall out Boy

Notes:

FINALE PEOPLE!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Better brave than sorry

◄◄◄►►►

[Fade in]
INT. parkour room –day. Clint and Natasha are running side by side, Clint carrying a bow and Natasha two guns. They approach a closed door, looking exactly like the one in the first simulation they did together. Without looking at each other or exchanging a word, they accelerate simultaneously, each pressing the button on their respective side. The door opens and they slide through, landing in superhero pose. Without a second of hesitation, they separate, Natasha going to the right and Clint to the left, inspecting their surroundings.

NATASHA All clear.
CLINT Me, too. Let’s go.

They leave for the exit when the door behind them opens. Natasha spins around, shooting three hostiles coming through the door. Clint has his bow drawn, watching her back. They move forward, Natasha checking the back. The next room contains a glass container with a hologram of a human inside. There are four exits. Clint stands by the door, keeping his eyes on everything he can. Natasha moves towards the container and looks at it carefully.

CLINT Keypad?
NATASHA I can see which ones have been pressed, but not the correct order.
CLINT You’ll have three tries, as usual.

Natasha nods, but something has alerted her. She gets her gun ready.

NATASHA Incoming. Three and Nine.
CLINT Copied.

Natasha takes a bomb from her belt and throws it into one of the hallways, eliminating most of the hostiles.

CLINT More company from my side.
NATASHA Six and nine for you, okay?
CLINT Sure.

They move diagonally, backs to each other, and start eliminating. Natasha uses two more bombs and shoots the rest, Clint uses explosive arrows. Being finished, Natasha hurries back to the keypad, taking a closer look. She presses an order.

ROBOTIC VOICE V.O Access denied.
CLINT Natasha, watch out!

Natasha turns and shoots twice. Clint appears next to her.

CLINT Back to the code, I got this.

Natasha returns to the keypad while he covers her. She narrows her eyes, seeing one key has been smeared more and the other only very lightly. She enters a new order, using them at first and last position.

ROBOTIC VOICE V.O Access granted.

The glass container opens and the human slumps forward. Natasha covers them with her body and shoots one more person who aimed at Clint. A small signal makes the two agents give up their pose. The holograms disappear and the walls around them start to come down. Agent Coulson walks towards them, looking at his tablet.

COULSON Let me see…

On his tablet, a list of names and pictures builds, a ranking with high scores on this parkour. The first place has a score of 74. Refreshing the page, two names appear on top: ‘Barton / 14-18: 96’. Coulson smiles.

COULSON Well, I will say that’s not too bad.

The two gather around him.

CLINT What’s our score?
COULSON 96. Congratulations.

Natasha and Clint smile at each other, Clint offers her a high-five and she obliges. Coulson pats them on the shoulders.

COULSON sincerely Very good, really. That’s really good. I’m very proud of the two of you.

Natasha smiles faintly and bows her head slightly, the mere resemblance of the habit of curtseying that she can’t fully shake. Clint smiles broadly.

CLINT Thanks.
NATASHA Thank you.
COULSON Okay, I’d say we’ll leave it at that. Take a break, eat something, we’ll meet in the conference room in say… one hour?
CLINT Sounds fine. C’mon, Natasha.

He strides to the door and Natasha follows him. Coulson looks after them, smiling openly.

◄◄◄►►►

Together, Natasha and Clint left for the cafeteria. After congratulating each other on the successful mission, they had switched topics to something more trivial. Again, Clint had quoted a film Natasha didn’t know and showed himself to be quite shocked about her not knowing what he was talking about.
“But you have seen a James Bond film yet?” he asked. Natasha shrugged.
“A few. It’s not my kind of movie, though.”
“Why? Because the stunts are unrealistic?”
Natasha grinned. “No, it’s not that. Bond just gives me the creeps, I’ve known people like him and they’re… ugh.” She shuddered theatrically. “Also, that guy never gets injured, are you kidding me? He should be 100% dead.”
“He does break his arm once, I think,” Clint argued.
“And let me guess, does a whole movie with it?”
He laughed. “Got me there.”
They walked towards the elevator. Jane, a young red-haired woman working in accounting greeted them with a smile. She had chatted with Natasha once or twice because of “Us redheads have to stick together, don’t we?”
“What do you think Coulson wants to discuss with us?” Clint asked when she was gone.
“Because he wants to meet us in the conference room? I don’t know.”
“More teambuilding, maybe, don’t you think?”
Before Natasha could reply, they entered the elevator.
“Hey, Gary, how are the wires?" Clint asked easily.
Gary, the technician that had designed both Clint’s special arrows and Natasha’s new weapons, gloves with included tasers that he’d proudly named ‘Widow’s bite’ (and that Natasha referred to as ‘stingers’ because she found the name a bit awkward), rolled his eyes. Clint’s greeting was his routine for all the technicians and they all hated it.
“Hello, Gary,” Natasha murmured.
He smiled at her.
“Barton, Natali… Natasha, sorry.”
“No problem.”
“How’s it going? New girlfriend already, Clint?”
“Fuck you.” Clint laughed. “I’m in a proud single period at the moment.”
Gary snickered, then turned to Natasha.
“And you? Anyone special?”
“You mean if I have a significant other?” Natasha asked, stiffness breaking through. Gary grinned.
“Gotta know my chances… Just kidding, I’m taken.”
“You are?” Clint asked, surprised. “I thought you and Jia broke up?”
“Rumors.” Gary shook his head dismissively. “We’re still very much together.”
They left the elevator and walked to the cafeteria together.
“So what is it, Romanoff?” Gary pressed. “You have someone?”
All of these expressions, Natasha thought as she shook her head. Someone, someone special, a significant other… Like it’s the only thing that matters. I can’t be that dumb, can I? I just don’t get this whole thing, why are they so hyped about this?
“No, I’m single.” Even though my partner is literally standing next to me. Which doesn’t count, for some reason.
“Don’t let anyone hear that,” Gary teased. “or you’ll get all the pick-up lines at once.”
“I hope not,” Natasha said stiffly. “I don’t intend to get picked up.”
The two men laughed and then Gary thankfully left. Natasha knew that probably no one intended her to be awkward, but she was. It was better with some, with Agent Hill, for example, but Gary just wasn’t her type, too jovial, too not-her. It also showed her very painfully how well Clint was around people and how stiff she was in comparison.
“He does only know one topic, doesn’t he?” Clint interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to see him roll his eyes. “Gossip girl if I’ve ever seen one. Let’s go grab something to eat.”
Once they had gathered their meals and sat down, Clint returned to their conversation from before.
“Back to Coulson. What do you think he wants?”
Natasha shrugged. That wasn’t a question she would usually ask herself, she would know soon enough, but Clint was very curious.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what he’d want to team-build, though, I mean, the simulations work well and our communication is… I think it’s alright… so maybe something new altogether.”
Clint nodded, licking a little bit of sauce off his finger.
“True…” He frowned, then grinned. “Well, I suppose we’ll see, right?”

◄◄◄►►►

“Well, I have to say,” Coulson commented. “With Natasha around, even you manage to be on time, Clint.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Clint mumbled, rolling his eyes. “No need to bring it up every time.”
Coulson laughed.
“Sit down, you two.”
They sat down at the end of the table and Coulson noted, amused, how they both tried to take a look at the file in his hand very subtly.
“I don’t intend to keep you guessing for too long,” he began. “Your simulation results are great, so is your communication and team climate in general. There’s nothing more we can do in here. So this,” he pointed at the file “is information about your first mission as partners.”
He had never seen two faces go pale as rapidly as now. He saw Natasha’s fists clench and Clint’s jaw tighten. They exchanged a glance. Clint bowed over to her.
“I would prefer more teambuilding…” he whispered. Natasha nodded affirmatively, chewing on her lip nervously.
Coulson smiled calmingly.
“Now, don’t look at me like that. This is what we’ve been working towards. Both Director Fury and I fully believe that you are ready for this. We wouldn’t let you do this if we’d think you’d screw it up.”
“Well, you’re not all-knowing,” Clint pointed out quietly.
Coulson shook his head. “Where’s your optimism, Clint? You’ve gone into missions prepared way worse than you are now.”
Clint opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn’t want to say that he had another person to worry about this time and that made it different. Natasha didn’t need to be worried, too.
Coulson smiled reassuringly.
“I’ll tell you what it’s about, okay?”
They nodded and he opened the file.
“So, it’s in two days,” he began. Again, the two agents stared at him, shocked. He shrugged. “Can’t do anything about that. We have a group, ‘Blue Viper’ they call themselves. The police know them, they are known for kidnapping and demanding ransoms. This time, they took to a little girl."
He pushed a photo over the table for them to look at. Clint breathed in sharply.
“But she’s so young!” he exclaimed.
Coulson nodded. “Lily Reyes, eight years old, from Washington. She was kidnapped a week ago, the Viper demanded a ransom of 50,000.”
Clint frowned.
“And it’s not being paid, or what’s the deal? Don’t we usually pay the ransom in these cases?”
Coulson nodded again.
“The ransom was delivered by Mr. Reyes, Lily’s father, exactly like demanded. The police were only informed when he didn't return from the delivery."
“So they’re both dead, most likely,” Natasha pointed out, quietly and matter of fact.
Coulson shook his head.
“Apparently, they want to milk as much money as they can. They sent pictures of both Lily and her father, together with another demand. The delivery is supposed to take place in a forest near Washington, a strike unit will be there. We don’t think they will bring the hostages to the meeting, though, they said they would release them when the money was delivered.”
Natasha nodded. “Which means they’ll ask for more until someone stops them.”
“But how do we get Lily and her Dad?” Clint asked. “If they won’t be at the exchange point, they could be anywhere.”
Coulson nodded. "I was just coming to that. Lily has an older sister who studies IT. She built a small tracking device for her father to take with him."
“Impressive,” Clint commented. “Impressive and clever.”
Coulson nodded. “We could really use the young lady’s talent at S.H.I.E.L.D, that’s true. The tracker works perfectly, we know exactly where Mr. Reyes is.”
“And Lily should be there, too.”
“Almost certainly. You are to get them both out so they’re safe when the strike team comes in.”
They had almost forgotten that it was their mission they discussed. Natasha chipped at her nail polish nervously.
Clint frowned.
“Why us?” he asked. “Why is this the perfect mission for us exactly?”
Coulson shrugged.
“Two clients, two agents. Clint, the last missions involving hostages you mastered extraordinarily well, and Natasha, you are just the right person to get in unseen. Your communication is really good, too, and –if I may be frank- this is just the right amount of tension and challenge for you two to get started.”
Natasha’s nails dug deep into her palms. When she spoke, her voice trembled slightly.
“I’m sorry, Coulson, I… You’re wrong about … I’m not… I don’t feel sure enough for this, not to involve someone else, a child especially.”
“You’re putting so much responsibility on us, Coulson,” Clint agreed. “This is too much for a first mission, it’s hard enough to keep each other safe, we can’t risk a kid’s life.”
Coulson shook his head.
“Calm down, both of you,” he said gently. “I understand your worries, trust me, I do. But you have to stay realistic. We’re not risking the child’s life, we’re sending in two extremely well-trained agents to save her. On your own, you’d trust yourselves to do it right, wouldn’t you? Right. And things don’t suddenly go downhill just because of a partner, alright? You won’t even be close to each other most of the time, you’ll communicate via radio. This isn’t as big as it feels to you right now. Okay?”
He didn’t get an enthusiastic confirmation, but he did get two small nods.
“We’ll talk this through as exactly as we can,” he continued calmingly. “And I’ll supervise the mission personally. You’ll not be fully on your own.”
He looked into the two scared faces and sighed.
“Come back here in one hour,” he ordered. “Go for a run, each individually, get a clear head. We’ll talk more about it later.”

◄◄◄►►►
Two days later. Day of the mission
◄◄◄►►►

Clint was well aware he was being melodramatic, but he felt like his uniform was too tight and he couldn’t breathe. Hesitantly, he walked towards apartment 25 and knocked on the door.
Natasha opened, already in her black catsuit, but not fully dressed. He was unusually early, normally she was the one who had to wait.
“Come in, I’ll be finished in a second,” she said quietly.
He sat down on the little couch and put his bow beside him. Natasha’s quarters were the expected level of cleanliness, nothing personal. It seemed stiff and cold, not like a home.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he muttered. Natasha fastened her utility belt around her waist, put on her boots, and turned to him.
“Me neither,” she replied quietly. “I’m done, we can go, I suppose.”
“Got your gun, your stingers?”
“Sure.”
She sighed.

◄◄◄►►►

Coulson smiled compassionately when they met up with him.
“Oh dear, don’t be so nervous!” he exclaimed. “Do things like in the simulations and everything will be fine.”
“Simulations have a ‘start over’,” Clint commented roughly.
Coulson shook his head.
“You don’t need a start over. You’ll absolutely ace this, I’m sure of it.”
“I’m afraid you’re the only one who’s so sure,” Natasha pointed out.
Coulson sighed.
“There’s no reason why I would have doubts. I wish you good luck anyway. You have to leave now, though.”
They got into a car, Natasha driving. Clint had never been on the passenger seat with her before, but he had ridden a motorbike with her and he should have been warned. Natasha’s style was… interesting, to say the least.
“Girl!” Clint exclaimed after a while. “How’d you get your driver’s license?”
“Do you really think I have one?” Natasha asked back.
“What??”
Natasha shrugged. “S.H.I.E.L.D. made me a license, together with my ID.”
“So you really can’t drive?” Clint held on to the door.
“A piece of paper doesn’t say anything about what I can and can’t do. I’ve traveled half of England by car on my own, I’ll manage an American highway.”
Clint groaned. “I’ll drive on the way back.”
After maybe half an hour, Coulson checked in.
“Are you alright? None of you has said a word in the last 30 minutes.”
“We’re fine,” Clint answered after exchanging a brief glance with Natasha.
Then they were silent again, thinking about the exact same things until they reached the location.

◄◄◄►►►

They had parked half a mile from the location and walked the rest of the way. Behind a crumbling wall, they could see the building in which their clients were presumably held hostage.
“No patrol outside,” Clint said quietly.
“Time to separate,” Natasha replied, nodding.
Clint nodded and they checked their comms again, just to be sure.
“You have 15 minutes until the exchange,” Coulson informed them via comm. “Good luck.”
“Thank you,” they murmured in unison.
Their eyes met, perfect mirrors of one another, nervous, uncertain. Clint smiled a little and Natasha returned the small gesture of encouragement.
“Let’s do this, then,” Clint said, breathing out.
“Okay,” Natasha confirmed, adding shyly “Partner?”
“Partner.” He extended a hand to her and she took it. They pressed each other’s fingers for a few seconds, gaining strength from the touch.
“Let’s go,” Natasha whispered before she let go and lightly jumped over the wall, crossing the lawn in a matter of seconds. Clint left in the opposite direction.
They were getting started.

◄◄◄►►►

“What’s the status?”
“Found the vents. Going in. You?”
“Backdoor. No hostiles so far.”
“Good.”
It’s not going too badly, Natasha thought while she unscrewed the ventilation grille at the outside of the building and carefully slipped inside. She fastened it again so her presence wouldn’t be noticed too quickly if someone happened to stroll around.
She didn’t even have to hold her breath or twist her body too much, the vents were wide enough for her to crawl through quite comfortably. She couldn’t talk well, though, the echo might carry her voice rather far.
Meanwhile, Clint had snuck in through the back door, bow drawn. He was following the signal of the tracker that the young Miss Reyes had built. Natasha’s job was the girl. From the picture, they knew she had to be kept somewhere with a window facing South, the direct sunlight had given it away.
Clint held his breath and ducked into a door frame when two men walked by. He didn’t want to be noticed just yet, the less attention, the better. Unfortunately, vents weren’t his kind of thing, at least not to crawl through them without making a sound. But that was what Natasha was here for, after all…
Natasha felt a ventilation grill under the tips of her fingers. Quickly, she shifted her weight so it wouldn’t make a sound to carry into the room beyond her. Carefully, she looked down, at first thinking the room empty, but then –
“Got her,” she whispered into her comm, retreating a little into the vent. “Alive and unharmed.”
“Great,” Clint’s voice whispered back. “Wait till I have her Dad.”
“Copied.”
Natalia returned to the grille, looking down again. Lily was sitting in one corner of the room, chewing on one strand of her honey-blonde hair. She was visibly distressed, traces of tears on her flushed cheeks, but physically she seemed perfectly fine.
Without a sound, Natasha loosened the screws on the grille so it was ready to be moved away in a matter of seconds. She was in position. Alone, she would have struck now. She waited.
Seemingly endless minutes passed until she heard Clint’s voice again.
“Got him. Concussed, I’d say, otherwise alright.”
Natasha was just breathing in to reply when she heard him sigh.
“Oh shit.”
She realized the familiar sound of a bowstring being released right away. Carried through the vent, she heard the sounds of a fight.
Well, apparently the strike team had struck, or Clint had been found out, but the time for waiting was certainly over now.
The ventilation grille was pushed aside audibly. Lily shrieked in shock as Natasha elegantly landed next to her. She put a finger on her lips.
“Shh, be quiet, Lily.”
Lily backed away, looking around in terror. Natasha got to her knees to be on her eye level.
“Hey,” she said softly. “I’m not going to harm you, Lily. I’ll get you out of here, to your parents.”
“Who are you?” Lily asked suspiciously.
“My name is Natasha. I’m… well, not from the police exactly, but something similar. I’m here to help you. My partner’s with your father, we’ll get you both out of here.”
“Daddy’s here, too?” Lily’s eyes widened.
“Yes, he wanted to save you.”
“Can you take me to him?” Lily asked eagerly, giving up her protective posture. Natasha envied her for her naivety, at that age she would have not trusted this easily anymore. She nodded.
“I will. But you have to do what I tell you, okay? I want to protect you, but if I don’t know where you are exactly I can’t fight the bad guys and keep you safe at the same time.”
Lily nodded. Natasha smiled at her calmingly.
“Clint, status?” she asked then.
His voice was a little out of breath, but almost cheerful.
“Good to go. Get Lily and meet me at the back door.”
“Copy that. Coulson, where do I need to go?”
“Left, right, right, cross the third room on the right and then straight ahead.”
“Okay.”
The door was pushed open and hit the wall with a bang. Lily shrieked in fear again. Without really thinking about it, Natasha shoved the little girl behind herself and jumped at the guards without waiting for them to say hello.
She took around 30 seconds which was a satisfying quota. Lily stared at her in shock, then at the five men lying on the floor. Natasha had knocked them out, she didn't want to shoot someone dead in front of Lily if she didn't absolutely have to.
“Just the bad guys,” she said gently and offered the girl her hand. Lily took it and followed her outside.
“Can I learn that?” she asked eagerly. Natasha grimaced, not looking at her.
“Surely,” she replied, ignoring her stomach cramping up at the thought.

Mr. Reyes stumbled again and almost made Clint lose his balance. While Lily hadn’t been harmed, her father had obviously been hit on the head pretty badly. Clint would have supported him more, but he needed both hands for shooting.
“Stay by the wall for now,” he ordered softly.
Obligingly, the man staggered to the wall, holding on to it.
“We’re pretty slow, Natasha,” Clint said. “And we’re basically on display constantly. Might take a while.”
“We’ll meet up with you as soon as we can,” Natasha replied, then he heard her say “Lily, look away.”, followed by a shot and the sounds of a fight.
“Is Lily with you?” Reyes asked dazedly.
Clint nodded, a grin in the corner of his mouth.
“Trust me, she’s perfectly safe.”
A second later, he shoved the man into a doorway, firing two arrows. Reyes groaned, knees buckling.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Clint mumbled.
“What’s the matter?” Natasha asked via comm.
“He can hardly walk, I don’t know how to get him out.”
“Coulson, how far away am I?” Natasha asked.
Coulson had been silent for a while, letting them do things on their own, but he was true to his word and still there.
“Two minutes and five hostiles between the two of you.”
“Okay, Clint, then stay where you are.”
“Copied.” Clint helped Mr. Reyes inside the room (one entrance, good to defend) and positioned himself in the doorframe. Until now, nobody had been able to signal a majority of the Blue Viper, until now, they weren’t overrun. Hopefully, it’d stay like that for a bit longer…
Lily had understood quickly that she was safest behind Natasha. She followed the red-haired woman down a corridor. Natasha had her gun drawn, moving close to the wall.
Timidly, Lily reached out for her hand. Natasha looked down at her briefly, then took it and pressed it reassuringly.
“Don’t be scared,” she whispered.
“Hostile approaching from behind, Natasha,” Coulson warned. Natasha spun around and shot as soon as the man ran around the corner. He fell like a tree.
“Don’t look,” Natasha ordered, guiding Lily away.
“Are you trying to do trauma control?” Clint asked, slightly amused.
“Not everyone’s got to see bodies at the age of eight,” Natasha replied, dead serious. Clint didn’t know what to reply, so he stayed silent.
“You okay?” Natasha asked.
“Sure, just chilling.”
Like Clint had done, Natasha resorted to a doorframe as cover. Keeping Lily behind her, she fired three –no, another one, four times at the people who thought they had to come in between her and the exit. Lily covered her ears, whimpering.
“I’m sorry,” Natasha said. “I know it’s loud. But I’d have to let them closer to fight them and I don’t want them close to you.”
Lily sniffled. “Okay,” she whispered. And then “I want my Dad.”
“We’re getting there,” Natasha promised softly, taking the girl’s small hand again. “Come.”
“You will see each other when you go around the corner,” Coulson interjected. “Don’t fire at each other if possible.”
“Sure not, Coulson,” Clint answered merrily.
“Coming around,” Natasha announced.
“Daddy!” Lily exclaimed and left Natasha’s side, rushing to her father without minding her cover in the least. Hastily, Natasha sprinted after her. Without even slowing down she fired at one of the two guards coming from the other side and disarmed the other, bringing him to the ground with her favorite combination. In the blink of an eye, she was back next to Clint.
“What’s the plan?” he asked. “How do we blow this popsicle stand?”
“Working from room to room?” Natasha suggested. “You can support him and I’ll watch your back.”
Clint nodded, firing an arrow. “Better start with that quickly, those are swarming in like bees.”
Natasha ran to the next room, checked if it was safe, and returned. Clint took Mr. Reyes's arm over his shoulder.
“Come, Lily,” Natasha said, “run to this room over there, as fast as you can, okay?”
Obediently, Lily ran into the room. Clint and Natasha followed with Mr. Reyes. On the way, Natasha got herself a gun from a fallen enemy and handed Clint one of hers. He grimaced but put his bow away.
“We’ll be faster,” she apologized.
Still, they were trapped near the next room for a full five minutes because the people just kept coming. For the first time, Natasha knew she couldn't have made it on her own. She fought those hand-to-hand who came close and Clint shot the ones who came around the corners. There were so many of them.
Finally, they were able to move to the next room relatively safely.
Clint noticed that he didn’t pay attention to Natasha’s side. He knew she’d do her part and he’d do his. Not for a second, he doubted that she’d have his back.
Simultaneously, they got ready for the next room, and then the next, like there was a planned choreography when to switch. A warm, fuzzy feeling filled Clint’s veins. This was exactly how things were supposed to be.
“Duck!” Natasha called and he ducked, watching her jump and kick a bomb aimed at them several feet down the hallway. The explosion was close enough to make the ground shake beneath them, but not close enough to do them any harm.
“Nice move, Romanoff!” He grinned, adding. “Down!”
Natasha landed, both bullets missing her and both shooters falling by Clint’s hand.
“Thanks.”
She gestured him to retreat into the room and threw one of her own grenades.
Ducking into the room, the dust told them that there wouldn’t be many more people coming from this side.
“Great, let’s go.”
“The police has arrived outside,” Coulson informed them. “Be careful when you leave.”
“Thanks, Coulson. We’re almost out.”
Gratefully, they approached the door. Natasha secured their exit from behind, but they had fought off the big bunch.
“Can we come out?” Clint shouted.
“Stand down!” they heard a police officer command. “Come out!” he then called aloud.
They left the facility and hurried behind the police lines where they were safe. Arresting the rest of the Blue Viper wasn’t their job.
Paramedics came to help Clint with Mr. Reyes, and one of them kindly asked Lily to come with him. The girl pulled on Natasha’s uniform.
“Come, please?” she asked.
Obediently, Natasha followed. Lily seemed a bit overwhelmed, much more so than she had done inside the heat of action. A feeling Natasha could understand pretty well. The paramedic asked if she was hurt, gave her a quick once-over, put a Band-Aid on her scraped knee. Lily looked at Natasha with big brown eyes.
“You’re hurt, too,” she said, pointing at a small cut on Natasha’s hand which she hadn’t even noticed until now.
“Oh, that’s nothing, really.”
“Yes, it is!” Lily protested. She looked at the paramedic reproachfully.
“Yes,” he agreed sincerely. "Of course, we’ll treat that, too. Do you want to put the Band-Aid on your friend, Lily?”
Lily nodded and meticulously pressed the Band-Aid on Natasha’s hand. The paramedic smiled at her, winking a little. She smiled back carefully.
“Lily?” A woman’s voice, loud and desperate. Lily looked up eagerly.
“Mummy?” And with that, she was gone, rushing into her mother’s arms. Natasha looked at the paramedic, shrugging.
“I think I’m good,” she said politely and went back over to Clint. He was watching the reunion, too.
“That’s so cute,” he commented quietly. “Look at how happy they are.”
Natasha nodded silently. Her eyes rested on the family, now over near the ambulance, reuniting with Mr. Reyes as well. That young girl had to be Jamie, the sister who had designed the tracker. They seemed so happy…
Clint interrupted her thoughts by clearing his throat.
“Ahem… okay… Let’s go, right?”
Natasha nodded and followed him to their car. Their work was done here.
“Fuck!” Clint exclaimed suddenly, stopping. Natasha jumped.
“What’s wrong?”
“I lost my watch… Oh, fuck it!” he cursed, holding his wrist where the watch ought to be. Natasha frowned. Certainly, that thing hadn’t been expensive, there had to be something…
“Should we go…” she began, but Clint shook his head.
“No… no… it’s fine. Let’s go home.”
He seemed frustrated for a second, but a moment later, a smile appeared on his face.
“Hey, know what?” he asked cheerfully. Natasha raised her eyebrows in a silent question.
“Coulson,” Clint announced proudly. “A1-01. Mission accomplished.”

◄◄◄►►►

Natasha had just switched out of her uniform into her pajamas (Or rather the sweatpants and the t-shirt that substituted a real pajama) when her phone buzzed.
She reached for it and unlocked it. A message from Clint blinked on the display.
“Come up to the roof, partner! Elevator to the top, staff-only-door ;)”
Natasha frowned, but she changed back into jeans and the only pullover she owned, pulling her leather jacket over it. She shook her head, texting Clint a quick. “On my way.”
Was it allowed to go up to the roof? Clint apparently did it, but she knew he didn’t mind doing forbidden things. Never mind.
She exited the elevator and slipped through the small door at the end of the hallway. There was a very steep ladder that led to a hatch that was unbolted. Natalia pushed it open, climbing onto the roof.
Clint turned around, waving her over.
He was sitting quite close to the corner, a blanket spread out underneath him.
“What the heck, Clint,” Natasha exclaimed, shivering. “it’s February!”
She trudged over, the cold wind blowing through her hair.
Clint shrugged. “Yeah, but we’ve got something to celebrate. I mean, first mission and all that.”
Natasha sat down next to him. In a small bag behind him, she could see a few bottles and bags of chips.
“Do you come here often?” she asked, wrapping her jacket around herself and looking over the city. It looked so small, and so many lights… she had never been a sniper, so she wasn’t very used to being on rooftops. Clint nodded.
“Yup, it’s my little place. Bird’s nest. Beer?”
Natalia declined the bottle he offered her. “No, I don’t drink.”
“But soda is fine, right?” He gave her a lemon soda. Natasha opened it. Clint lifted up his beer, grinning almost shyly.
“On our first mission, partner!” he proclaimed.
Natasha smiled and clinked bottles with him. “On our first mission. Partner.”
They drank, Clint opened the bag of chips and offered her a blanket when he saw her shivering again.
Then he was silent for a suspiciously long time. Natasha threw him a look and he smiled, a little embarrassed.
“I… uhm, you know… I have something for you,” he mumbled finally.
Natasha’s eyes widened.
“What? But, what for?
Clint shrugged, still looking a bit awkward.
“Ah, you know, I was walking through downtown and I saw it in a shop window and I liked it, but for someone who has no idea of ‘Hawkeye’ there’s no real point in it. And I mean, we’re partners, and I didn’t get you anything for your birthday and so… will remind you you’re stuck with me now.”
Natasha nodded. “Okay…”
Clint rummaged through his pockets.
“Okay, got it. Close your eyes.”
Just a few months ago Natasha’s heartbeat would have accelerated in panic at the thought of closing her eyes around anyone. But things had changed. Obediently, she closed her eyes.
"No peeking," she heard Clint from behind.
A necklace, Natasha knew before she even felt the metal touch her skin. Clint closed it around her neck.
“You can look,” he said.
Natasha looked down, finding a small arrow dangling around her neck, fastened to a delicate chain. Almost automatically, her fingers ran over the metal, feeling the engraved details of the feather.
“I know it’s pretty… uhm, personal.” Clint grimaced, embarrassed. “You don’t have to wear it or anything, it was just a wild thought… don’t take it the wrong way, like, it’s not meant to be weird or something…”
Natasha looked up, smiling faintly.
“It’s beautiful,” she said simply. “A gift from my partner, that’s how I take it. Is that the right way?”
Clint chuckled. “Awesome.” And then. “You’re snickering, aren’t you?”
Natasha laughed. “I’ve never seen you this awkward before.”
“Hey,” Clint protested. “All of S.H.I.E.L.D thinks we’re two steps from getting married, I don’t want this to come off that way!”
He boxed her shoulder, then joined in with her laughing.
After they had stopped, Natasha produced a small box from her jacket and handed it to him.
“I’ve got something for you as well.”
“Great minds think alike or what?” Clint joked.
“And fools seldom differ,” Natasha added dryly.
He laughed, opening the box. For a few moments, he didn’t say a word.
“No way, Natasha.” His mouth was gaping open. “Where’d you…?”
Natasha shrugged. “I thought it had to be somewhere, and I was right.”
Carefully, almost gently, Clint took out the watch. Two new scratches, otherwise completely functional. Tears blurred his eyes as he ran his fingers across the leather.
“Natasha…” His voice faltered. “You have no idea what this means to me.”
Natasha shrugged a small hint of melancholy passing over her face. No, she had no idea.
“I guessed it meant more to you than you let show.”
“Did you search for it?” Clint asked, fastening the watch around his wrist again. “Where was it?”
She shrugged again.
“Somewhere at the scene. I don’t remember.”
“How long did that take?”
“A few hours.”
“Natasha!” Clint exclaimed.
“Don’t worry, I took the day off.”
Clint shook his head. “And all that for your dumbass of a partner losing his watch.”
“You’re not a dumbass,” Natasha contradicted. “At least not a lot.”
He laughed. “Hate you, too.”
He ran his fingers over his watch again.
“My grandpa gave that to me,” he said softly. “He taught me how to use it as a compass, and for directions and all that. We had a lot of fun, the old man and I.”
“That sounds great,” Natasha replied quietly.
Clint smiled dreamily.
“He made my first bow for me, too. Taught me how to shoot, built a parkour in his garden where I could go whenever I liked. I went there all the time, even after he… died and…” his voice broke a little. “I felt like we had that connection still, the connection we had when he was still alive. Without him, I’d not be here today.”
It sounded incredibly sad like there had been a lot that had gone wrong. Natasha didn't know what to say, family problems weren’t her specialty.
“I wish you could meet him,” Clint continued. “I think he would have liked you very much.”
Natasha raised her eyebrow ever so slightly, but Clint shook his head.
“No, no, he would’ve! Trust me, he was that kind of person that looked behind what others see. He’d have seen you for who you are.”
“So he was like you,” Natasha pointed out.
Clint shrugged.
“Maybe. Like me, he was usually right about people. I’m pretty glad I was right about you, you know?”
Natasha looked at him, then back over the sky of Washington DC, the city lights, the endless horizon.
“I’m glad you were right, too,” she whispered softly.
Clint briefly touched her shoulder and they smiled at each other and then just watched the endless night around them silently, being.
At this very moment on the roof of the triskelion, Natasha Romanoff understood that finally, her life was more than existing, beyond surviving.
Right now, she was living.
She was free.

◄◄◄►►►
[End Credits]
◄◄◄►►►

One floor under the roof, in Nick Fury’s office, the lights were dim. Fury’s face seemed to glow blue from the light of his laptop. Judging from the set-up, he might have been a dark underworld boss, scheming evil plans.
Agent Coulson entered the room, handing him a file.
“First mission report of our new duo,” he announced joyfully. “It’s a literary study, really, two styles practically opposite to each other.”
“I might say that’s their thing, opposite of one another,” Fury commented, flipping through Clint’s report of half a page’s length and Natasha’s, exactly two pages.
Coulson shook his head.
“They’re not really, Sir. In some regards, yes, but in others, they’re practically the same. Which is why they work.”
Fury scoffed.
“It doesn’t really matter why they work. They do, that’s all that matters. Let me tell you, Coulson, we’ve created something there, Barton and Romanoff. One day, we’ll stand to see that they actually changed the world.”

◄◄◄►►►

Notes:

And Bamm, we're done. Or well, not quite. Because there's Season 3 as well, upload starting now :D
I hope you enjoyed the season finale and Nat and Clint having their first mission together, some appropriate wholesomeness, too, I hope :)
I want to take a moment to sincerely thank everyone who's been reading this, left kudos or even a comment, it means so much to me, it really does.
I hope you had about as fun a ride as I did <3
xx Mer

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