Natasha walked through the door, pausing at the sudden darkness. She jumped when the door slammed shut behind her. It was deathly quiet, she could hear her own tense breathing, and her heart seemed to thud too loud in her chest. Despite the eeriness and the gut-feeling that something was very wrong, Natasha walked forward in the darkness.

"We knew you'd return to us, Natalia." A familiar voice called out to her with a ghostly echo. She spun in a circle with no use. She couldn't see anything. "You did well, Natalia." The voice seemed to come from all directions. Natasha walked forward again. "You are made of marble. You have yet to fail us, Natalia." The voice continued.

"My name's Natasha." She spoke up, ignoring the slight crack in her voice.

Madame B laughed, the sound sending chills up her spin. A bright light suddenly engulfed her as if a door opened in front of her. She blinked rapidly as she suddenly found herself outside. She looked around in confusion.

Her eyes noticed something her brain refused to accept. Tears already stung her eyes, her mouth was gaping open and a pit seemed to open in her stomach. "Clint," She called taking a step forward and falling to her knees next to his body. Two bullet wounds marked his chest. One unmistakably above his heart. Blood was on his lips, his powerful eyes unfocused and staring up at the sky. She reached forward to touch him and realized she had a gun in her hand. She stared at it in disbelief. What had she done? She jumped backwards, coming to her feet and dropping the weapon from her hands like it was burning hot.

"You did well, Natalia." Her voice breathed in Natasha's ear.

"No." Natasha called, taking another step back and shaking her head. She would never. She couldn't have of. It wasn't possible.

"Natasha!" A different voice called. Her head whipped in that direction. Steve? She heard her name called again. He sounded desperate. "Steve!" She called and bolted after him. She was in a destroyed and seemingly abandoned city. Natasha rounded a corner and saw Steve standing in the middle of the street, his hands around his neck as if he was choking. His face was red, and she noticed his shield was broken at his feet. "Steve?" She breathed, nearing him but was on edge.

Finally a dark figure stepped into her view. It was shaped like a man but completely black, like a shadow. Its arm was extended towards Steve and it was then Natasha realized he was using some kind of powers or magic to choke Steve. He lifted his arm and Steve started to move up until his feet weren't even on the ground. His eyes were on hers, begging for help. What could she do? This was a monster, this was magic and powers and everything she was scared of because it was everything she was never trained for. She would die trying though. She had to protect her friends. Natasha rushed forward but all the figure had to do was fling its other arm and she went flying back. Steve rose higher in the air.

"Steve!" She called, new tears starting to form. She felt so helpless. So completely weak and utterly useless. It was a feeling she wasn't used to. "What can I do?" She practically whispered to herself as she was forced to watch the life slowly drain from Steve. Natasha reached in her boot, pulling out a knife. She aimed and threw it at the figure. The blade stopped inches from its head. Natasha stared in surprise and fear.

"Look at you." The figure spoke to her. "Trying so desperately to make a difference. You are no one. Nothing. You don't belong on this team. You don't compare to them. You are useless. Nothing but a monster." And then he twisted his hand and the sound of Steve's neck snapping echoed in her ears as his body fell hard to the ground.

"Steve!" She cried but was suddenly inside again. She was breathing hard, tears still in her eyes and her heart racing in panic, grief and anger. She looked around and gasped as she recognized the place. No. No, no, no. She didn't want to be here. She couldn't be here. Not again. Natasha heard heels clicking on tile and closed her eyes.

"We knew you would return, Natalia." Madame B spoke from behind her. Natasha turned slowly to face the supervisor for the Red Room program and her old trainer. "You are not a superhero. You are nothing more than the assassin we made you."

"You're wrong." Natasha spoke, her voice sounded so little and helpless.

"Am I?"

Natasha couldn't answer. Was she wrong? Natasha knew she was a monster. She was a trained killer. Raised for nothing more than missions and only brought death to those around her. But she remembered Clint. He saved her. She remembered Fury and Coulson. She remembered the Avengers.

"You are." Natasha spoke confidently. Madame B seemed a bit surprised by her change in tone. "I'm a SHIELD agent. I'm an Avenger."

Madame B laughed. "You? You are our spy and assassin. They don't care about you. They never have and never will. You will kill them without a second thought when we give you the order. You forget, my dear, you have no place in the world. No one cares for you. You belong to no one. No one but us. Isn't that right, Black Widow?"

"No," Natasha breathed, taking a few steps back from her. "I don't belong to you. I got out. I'm free. I was saved."

"Were you?"

And then she was in an alley. European police sirens sounded in the distance but other than that, it was quiet. It was dark, the concrete ground and walls of the builds wet from earlier rain. She looked down one end when she sensed someone watching her. Relief poured over her when she saw Clint.

"You're here," She smiled, rushing towards him. He dropped his bow to his side as she threw her arms around him. She let out a breath and closed her eyes. Clint would save her. He always saw the good in her.

It took a while but finally one of his arms wrapped lightly around her back. She took in a breath and was about to pull away but he turned his head to say something in her ear. "Monster," He hissed and a sharp piercing pain exploded in her abdomen where he stabbed her.

Natasha bolted upright in her bed with a gasp, her hand going right to the spot where she was stabbed. It took her a moment but she was able to separate the dream from reality. She moved her hand to her chest and concentrated on calming her breathing.

"It was just a nightmare." She whispered to herself. "Just a nightmare."

She reached for the emergency satellite phone next to the bed and quickly typed in a number. She held it to her ear with both hands and closed her eyes.

"Nat?"

She let out a breath. "Clint."