Author's Note: First Avengers story, got the idea while watching it again two days ago. I enjoy angsty stuff so I hope you like it. Tell me what you thought.

"Is this love, Agent Romanov?"

"Love is for children, I owe him a debt."

"And your name is Natasha Romanov, is that correct?"

"That is correct."

"Look, Natasha, I don't believe that you are a bad person. I just think you've made some bad choices. We all make them. So I'm going to give you a chance, alright?"

"Why would you? You have the chance to wipe me out right now. Why wouldn't you take it?"

"Because I know that people can change."

"You know that if the roles were reversed, I wouldn't have thought twice about giving you another chance."

"And that's why they call you the Black Widow."

"Look, Agent Barton, I don't believe you understand what I am trying to say here."

"I understand perfectly well, Natasha. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"And you're the one to give me that."

"I like to think so, yes."

"Why?"

"I know you can make a difference, and I believe in you. I feel like I know you, on some level."

"That sounds ridiculously cheesy."

"Say what you want."

"Oh, I do."

"I know."

"So, what now, Agent Barton?"

"Call me Clint."

"Alright then, Clint. What's the plan?"

"Follow me."

"It's really not that complicated. I got red in my ledger, and I'd like to wipe it out."

"Can you? Can you wipe out that much red?"

"I don't want to be a part of SHIELD anymore, are we clear on that? I do things my own way, I'm independent. That's always how it has been, that's how the Black Widow works. Got that?"

"Look, Natasha-"

"Agent Romanov."

"Look, Agent Romanov. You've been with SHIELD for a good few months now, and you've been doing pretty good. Do you really want to mess that up over one little thing? Look at all the mistakes you made. This could help you clear them all out."

"Everybody makes mistakes, and I don't need you to help me with them, Barton."

"Alright, but let me ask you one more time. And not as your fellow agent, but as your friend. Natasha, please. Do this for me."

"Clint…"

"Pathetic! You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code. Something that makes up for the horrors. But they are part of you, and they will never go away."

The hospital fire.

"I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you. Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear, and then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams I'll split his skull!"

That was when I had enough.

I walked outside, took out my pocket knife and stabbed.

I let the blood pour from me, as gushing red as my ledger, as hot and fast as the tears running down my cheeks, and in my last breath I saw his face. A man I owed my life to, and this was how I repaid him; by dying a cowardly child's death. My last thoughts were these.

I despise myself.