A/N: OOOOH, yes, people! This story surged into my head, and refused to leave. So here we are. (chuckles)

To the readers of 'SOS'… YUP, this is the story with Natasha and Ronja (Sparrow). To others… Just enjoy the ride – reading 'SOS' isn't necessary to have everything figured out! This story stands alone firmly.

DISCLAIMER: Oh, please…! Like I'd ever have enough money to hire Jeremy Renner. But a girl can dream, right?

WARNINGS: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, adult themes, description of torture… I'll do my best to go overboard, but this'll probably be one of my most gruesome works thus far. (winces) Also, an OC involved.

Awkay, before I change my mind… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.


A Spider and a Sparrow


The Blood Red Sparrow


/ Ronja Volsov had no idea who her father was. Her mother dragged her and her sister to hell called Red Room when they were young children. So it was hardly a surprise that her sister, Inga, was the only thing in the world she cared about. Her baby-sister, whom she swore to protect with everything she had. Only, there were things even she couldn't protect Inga from.

Inga wasn't ready for the final exam. And she definitely wasn't ready to face Black Widow. But the world they were in gave no mercy.

And so Ronja had no other choice but to watch. Stand back while her sister was killed right in front of her, two grown men keeping her from interfering as she screamed and begged. Watching the life leave Inga's eyes… Blood staining Natasha's hands and clothes… Seeing the disappointment filling their mother's eyes… Seeing the faces of all those people who did nothing to stop the tragedy from happening…

Ronja swore that she'd kill them all while she cried the last tears she'd ever shed. /


Natasha Romanoff could no longer count how many times she'd been invited to Nick Fury's office knowing to expect trouble. She faced those… unpleasant meetings as she faced a lot of her missions. She gritted her teeth, kept up a stone-hard front and braced herself.

Fury's grim, stormy expression was a loud warning. The pile of files was even more worrying. Natasha groaned and took the chair by his desk with as much grace as she could muster in her current state of mind. "Another mission? The team just came back from one a few days ago." She would've never admitted as much out loud, but she could've used a breather.

Fury took a deep breath. His facial muscles seemed unnaturally tense. "Not exactly. There was supposed to be an official hearing but I think we're both happier without one." With a sharp motion, he pushed one of the files towards her. The name on it was like a slap right at her face.

'Ronja Volsov / Sparrow'

"I take it you recognize the name."

"Yes", Natasha hissed, her eyes flashing dangerously. She did. It was one she never, ever wanted to hear again. "You know I do. I delivered the full report on my last encounter with her. So did Barton." It was almost two years earlier and the memory was still far too fresh. "I was under the impression that the problem was under control." She used up a couple of unpleasant old favors – contacts she'd sworn to herself she'd never use again – to ensure that Ronja would never come anywhere near her or someone she cared about again.

"I figured out as much." A set of nauseating photos, such that could've been from the set of a horror movie, were shoved her way. "Two hitmen. Am I correct? They were found all over Zürich. The bits and pieces left of them, anyway."

Natasha gritted her teeth so hard that it hurt. The only reason she hadn't gone after Ronja herself was that the woman knew every single one of her moves, foresaw all her steps. They suffered through the hell of Red Room together. They'd been taught specifically to be so good that they'd be able to kill each other. Perhaps giving two world-famous assassins subtle hints of Ronja's whereabout was a desperate act. But at least it kept the woman busy. Until now.

"You're afraid of her."

Fury's assessment made Natasha see red. She'd been taught that fear was for children. That it was her worst enemy, the most ridiculous flaw a human being could have. The path to destruction. "You don't know what she's capable of. Any sane person would be afraid of her."


/ Anastasia Volsov was one of the founders of Red Room, and very proud of her creation. So proud, in fact, that she sent both her daughters there. Losing one of them moved her very little.

Her children were nothing but weapons among others. Instruments for the greater good. Pets. And if they didn't serve their purpose… Then they deserved to be destroyed.

She forgot one important thing about handling animals. The most important thing. If you mistreat them long enough, even the most docile pet bites back. And her older daughter had always been a wild beast.

It was supposed to be one of her infamous midnight training sessions. Those after which one or more… trainees didn't return. She monitored those sessions personally because she was one of the few who could stomach watching.

Anastasia knew that something was horribly wrong even before she switched on the room's lights. The stench of blood was unmistakable. Her stomach knotting, she wrapped the fingers of one hand around her firearm while the other, perfectly steady one flicked on the lights.

Five trainees, two of them twelve and three fourteen, lay on the floor. Dead from a colorful repertoire of injuries. And there, in the puddle of red, sat her very own daughter. Like an angel of death and vengeance.

Anastasia fought the urge to step backwards. No showing weakness in front of the pets. "Sparrow, what's the meaning of this?"

Ronja smiled. Her age and the blood staining her face made it seem macabre. "My graduation ceremony. Because I'm not going through with the official one. In fact, mother… I don't think I want to spend another hour locked up into this place."

Anastasia was quick. Her daughter was faster. When Anastasia's body was finally discovered it had to be identified from DNA-samples.

It wasn't until the first pictures of the Avengers went public Ronja found out that one of that night's victims was, in fact, alive. Natasha watched the carnage unfold until unconsciousness mercifully claimed her. She woke up on the way to a morgue, and screamed. It took months before a single coherent word was coaxed from her.

Ronja, on the other hand, walked out of Red Room. She didn't pay any attention to the blood coating her or to the fact that she was dressed far too lightly. She headed to the forest, free for the first time in her life, and felt like howling from triumph. The feeling lasted until she heard a wild animal actually howl.

She vanished, and four days later the amount of her blood found from the forest left no other choice but to assume that she was dead as well. /


Fury gave Natasha a moment. "I can't send you after her now. I'm sure that you understand why. But I need you to tell me everything you know about her, so we can stop her."

Natasha clenched her jaw and shook her head with frustration. "When I first met her, we were still children. She disappeared for a long time. Died, as far as the rest of the world knew." She turned her head and glared out the window. "I don't know how she survived. Or what survived."

"But you're determined to ensure that she doesn't live long."

Natasha's eyes flashed. Natalia Romanova flickering to life for a few fleeting moments. "Yes." She'd never been one to tiptoe around any subject.

"And that is exactly why I can't send you after her." Fury cut the rising objection sharply. "You're too close. This is too personal. You're compromised."

Natasha's eyes were wild. If looks could kill… "And you imagine she isn't?"

"Of course she is. But the difference between the two of you? She's learned to harness it. And instead of being destructive it's become her greatest weapon." He pushed a yet another picture towards her. "Do you recognize him?"

Natasha did, with difficulty. She nodded stiffly. "Igor Valerovits. He…" She took a deep breath and hated how it shuddered. "He was one of our trainers, and later handlers." The less specifically she had to describe just what he did, the better.


/ Heavy, desperate panting fogged the air and running steps made snow rustle. Those, along with occasional whimpers, were the only sounds heard in the ice-cold winter-morning. Droplets of blood shone chillingly against white snow.

And then came a howl, the kind that would've made anyone's heart shudder.

Minutes later there was a lot more blood on the snow as a new set of steps approached. A pair of black boots stopped a small distance away from the poor, unfortunate soul. Blue eyes, as cold as the weather, examined the fallen man.

The man was in his late forties. Undeniably attractive with his shortcut dark hair and chocolate-brown, now glazed over eyes. He was also very much dead, but not because of the arrow sticking from his leg.

A large wolf, as white as the snow aside the red staining its fur, sat beside its newest victim. Its golden eyes glowed menacingly while it growled threateningly. The noise didn't stop until the arrival, a rather small young woman with long, black hair and surreally blue eyes, petted the animal. "Good girl", Ronja praised in a purr. "Only two more left."

The wolf howled triumphantly. /


A new photo was shoved Natasha's way without mercy. Not that she would've wanted or expected mercy from Fury. "And she?"

This victim was easier to recognize, at least. Although the years that'd passed by since Red Room added challenge. "Nadia Derevko. She was… there at the same time with us. She went underground when that place fell."

"She fled to United States. Found a cabin in the middle of nowhere. Tried to lay low, stay safe." Fury sounded… almost compassionate.

Natasha felt her shoulders sag. Her jawline tightened. "Didn't do much to save her." She inhaled sharply. "How do you know that this is Ronja's doing?"

As a response Fury revealed one more photograph. It showed that something had been engraved to the back of Nadia's corpse. A picture of a bird.

Sparrow.


/ The cabin hadn't been heated properly yet and the cold morning embraced Ronja's naked skin harshly. She barely noticed while inhaling a long, poisonous drag of a cigarette. Her mind spun around busily as her vacant eyes stared at the pale, frosty dawn yawning to life on the other side of a window.

A soft, delicate hand traveled down the scars marring her shoulder, side and back. The touch made her shiver, as did the warm breath against her neck. "Where did you get these from?"

"I tamed a wolf", she murmured, by some miracle managing to hide her natural accent.

Her companion chuckled while lighting a cigarette of her own. "You're a real comedian." Years had wiped away Nadia's accent entirely. The new one was smoother than velvet, just like the skin pressed against Ronja's.

Forcing back a surge she couldn't afford, Ronja let her eyes – now dark-brown through contact lenses – travel downwards. To the scar on the other woman's hand. "And where is that from?" Did Nadia still remember?

There was a long pause. "Someone shoved a knife through it in the middle of a fight." Nadia took a long drag and breathed out with force. "I was winning."

Ronja shook her head. "No, you weren't." She met the other's almost innocent green eyes evenly, then glanced towards the cigarette. "That was always your biggest problem. You never noticed when you were losing."

Slowly, slowly Nadia's eyes widened. Filled with almost animalistic terror. "Ronja?" The woman gasped, the poison starting to take affect. "I… I knew they'd send someone…"

Ronja shook her head. "No one sent me because they're all dead. There's just you…" She breathed a puff of smoke at the other's face. "… and me." And one last pest she'd soon handle.

By then Nadia was gasping violently, each exhale and inhale a war. The woman's eyes were getting as red as the wig Ronja was wearing. Soon speckles of blood appeared. Pity, really. Under different circumstances…

Ronja caressed the woman's long, chestnut colored hair. "Don't fight. The harder you fight the more it hurts." She knew, all too well. The creator of this particular poison helped her develop full resistance towards it. But her body still remembered the crushing, searing pain from those hard lessons as she inhaled it now from the cigarette.

Nadia refused to give up, even though she had to know that it was a hopeless battle.

Ronja dumped her cigarette on the other woman's hand, enticing a pitiable mew. Then leaned close to Nadia's ear. "Just let go." She chuckled. "You've been to hell already. The place where you're going now… It can't worse, can it?" /


Natasha's eyebrows furrowed while her eyes flew from a gruesome photograph to another, again and again. Took in their meaning with nausea swelling in the pit of her stomach. "She's going to destroy everything there's left of Red Room. And she and I… We're the only ones left."

Fury nodded slowly. Showing rare sympathy and giving her time to let it sink in. "It took us until this morning to confirm the connections. As you know Red Room hid all tracks carefully. We would've notified you sooner if we were faster."

Natasha's hands weren't entirely steady so she fisted them to hide it. "If she wanted to come after me, she would've already. And she knew that eventually S.H.I.E.L.D would discover the bodies, and who they were. Why would she want to warn me?" The answer flowed through her like a gallon of ice-water.

Of course.

Fury clenched his jaw before confirming what she just figured out. "She wants you to suffer something worse than death. Who could she use to hurt you more?"


/ Clint Barton had a ridiculously long field experience. He rarely let down his guard. And Ronja had already ambushed him once. Managing to do the same a second time… No, it wasn't going to happen. Which was why she had to be far more patient than she would've liked. Do a lot of research. But at least she learned some… interesting things.

Clint had a family. Which made choosing him all the more satisfying. She was going to make it a blow Natasha would never forgive herself.

Her head tilted, Ronja watched Clint and a little girl – Lila, wasn't she – playing with a very excited dog. They were at a forest area a few minutes away from the Farm. It was supposed to be a safe location. Still there was some tension all over the Hawk's body, and he glanced around when his daughter didn't notice. As though sensing something.

Sneaky little devil.

After twenty-five minutes Ronja decided that she had enough. And she saw the perfect opening. Clint bent to scratch the dog's belly, carelessly exposing his neck for a couple of seconds that made all the difference.

Ronja didn't waste a blink. She raised a tiny gun. And fired.

Clint shuddered on impact, and reached out quickly to get rid of the dart sticking from his kin. But it was already much too late. He stumbled once, twice. Then slumped and lay unmoving, his eyes meeting hers for a breath before closing.

It took a while before the child and the animal realized what was happening. The dog first barked, then began to whimper. Lila whimpered as well, shaking her father's shoulder. "Daddy?" Her panic grew exponentially when he didn't react. "DADDY!"

Lila was sobbing by the time Ronja approached them. Their eyes met, the child's full of tears and sheer terror. "Do you want your daddy to live?" She smiled menacingly at the girl's frantic nods. "Then you'll be a good girl and come with us, or it'll be all your fault that he dies." /


Natasha's chest tightened to an extend that made it hard to breathe. She gulped. "What did she do to Barton?" she hissed, rage a far safer option than fear, guilt and sorrow. Rage, she could deal with. Had all her life.

Fury's gloomy expression did little to calm her. "I don't know", he admitted through his teeth. And obviously hated it. "That's one reason why I didn't want to waste time on an official hearing. Laura called just before I invited you here. Barton and Lila are missing."


TBC


A/N: Oh boy…! (GULPS) Trouble's officially arrived. And even little Lila's been involved! How will this tale unfold?

AND, of course… Do you guys want to read further? Does this sound like any good to you, or like garbage material? PLEASE, do let me know! I'd LOVE to hear from you.

In any case, THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading!

Awkay, it's time for me to skip to other typing projects. Who knows. Maybe I'll see you guys again?

Take care!