Summary: The red in her ledger made her compromised, but what if she tried to fix it before Barton brought her to Shield. What if it was a secret that only she knew, something that she would die to protect. Natasha/oc/ClintFREINDSHIP! Warning: mention of rape, swearing

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Just the main character and some of the plot.

Bold lettering = AI speech

Italics= dream/flashback

' ' = thought, NOT speech.

Resistance

Chapter One

It was dark. There were no windows or lights in the room. There wasn't even a bed, just a bucket in the far corner. The concrete walls were cold, just like the floor and the ceiling. The wooden door, which was the only opening, barely let any light seep in through the bottom. And the lock couldn't be unlocked from the inside.

She was stuck. In this room. Shivering from the cold, and the dampness that settled over her. Her corkscrew blonde hair was dirty and muddled up in knots. It didn't have the shine or the life that it did before. But then again neither did she.

The door opened, and a man came in, stopping a few feet in front of her and looked at her. And she looked right back. Her brown green eyes hardened as her face held defiance. "Get up," he told her. She didn't comply. "I said get up!" he kicked her, but when she still sat there glaring at him, he grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. "Listen to me, bitch!" His rough grimy hand grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look at him. Pulling her closer, so her face was only inches away, he smiled. His breath stank up high heaven. "You will do as I say. Is that clear?" He waited for a response, but all he got was a knee to the groin. Falling to his knees in pain, she ran to the door, only to be pushed back by three men. As she fought to get passed them, she only ended up getting being forced to the ground on her stomach with her arms held painfully behind her back. "Fuck!" She heard him stand to his feet, and walk to her and his men. "Do what ever you want. Just keep her alive and able to talk." And he walked out the door.

The door slammed closed. The men flipped her over, her arms pinned behind her back. The smiles on their put fear into her heart. The man who flipped her over, a short haired blonde, placed his hands on her hips, pulling her closer to them. The urge to fight surged through her. She kicked and punched, she fought to get away from them. But it was three against one, and she wasn't very good at fighting. She was good at dancing and art but not fighting. 'Not like Tony.' The thought entered her mind, and she hoped that he wouldn't do anything that these men wanted him to do.

She found herself slammed against the wall, she slumped slightly as she felt something warm trickle down her face.

The sound of fabric being ripped, brought her mind out of the fog. Struggling to get away, she only found herself pushed harder into the wall and punches connecting with her body. Feeling one of the men press up against her from behind, sent a feeling of dread through her. The hand upon her back repulsed her, but as it trailed up her back and then around to chest, she couldn't stop the tears from falling.

Her eyes opened, and she bolted upright. Her eyes searching for the men. The men that she knew were dead, yet still haunted her. Her glaze swept over the dresser, and the bookcase. The closet door was open and the light from the window showed no one hiding. The sound of fabric moving, made her look to her right. The red curls of hair lay spread out across the pillow. The sheet pulled up to her shoulder showing the straps to her tank top that she slept in. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself down. She didn't want to wake her up. Sliding out of bed, she walked quietly out of the bedroom, down the hall, through the living room and into the kitchen. Turning on the kitchen light, she grabbed the Vodka bottle that sat on the counter and placed it in front of her seat. Before she went and grabbed a shot glass from the liquor cabinet.

Filling the glass, she downed it in one go. Taking another and then another, she waited for the heat to raise and burn the memories away. With her head down, she wiped away the residual of her tears.

The clank of another shot glass filled the air, looking up, she found her standing next to her with a shot glass placed in front of her. The red head's eyes were focused on her. Reading her like an open book. With a small smile, she filled both of their glass up and they shot it down simultaneously. "You should have woken me," she whispered, her voice still filled with sleep.

"I didn't want to. You needed the sleep," she whispered back.

"Angela…"

"It's alright, Natasha. You come here because you need a place where you can relax and rest. You need to get more sleep," She reached out and gently traced the skin under her right eye with the pad of her thumb. "Don't want you to get dark circles," She teased with a smile. A soft laugh escaped Natasha's lips, causing Angela to smile. "You need to laugh more," she whispered as she filled up their glasses again.

Downing it with ease, Natasha slid onto the stool next to Angela. "The reason that I keep coming back, is because I worry. I worry that I didn't hide you well enough and you're going to get found. That's why I keep moving you. That's why I keep changing your name. I worry."

"Natasha—"

"—No, you don't understand, Angela. You are the only rock that I have, and I need to keep you safe."

Angela watched Natasha as she confessed to her. Something must have happened on her last mission for her to be telling her this. The emotion in her voice very seldom showed itself like it just had. Natasha didn't like showing emotion, but she showed it to Angela. Not all the time, but most of the time.

"How long are you going to stay this time?" Angela asked as she screwed the cap back on.

"I'll have to leave tomorrow morning, go back to HQ for some reason." She reached out and twisted a strand of Angela's black corkscrew hair around her finger. "I miss your hair being blonde."

"I could always dye it back to my natural color."

"No, you need to look different so you're not recognized." She sighed, "I just miss it."

Taking a deep breath, Angela stood and pulled Natasha to her feet. "Come on you need more sleep," she pulled her out of the kitchen. "Amelia could you turn off the lights?" She asked as she looked up at the ceiling.

Of course. Sleep well Angela, Natasha.

"Goodnight."

They slid into bed, pulling the sheet back over them. Facing each other, small smiles playing at both of their lips. "She's doing well?"

"As best as she can. She misses Jarvis though. I think she loves him."

"An A.I. in love with another A.I." Natasha chuckled, "I'm sorry she can't talk to him."

I understand why I can't. Now go to sleep. And stop talking about me.

Laughter filled the bedroom.

"What are you doing today?" Natasha asked as they sat in the kitchen eating a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns. She was dressed in the clothes that she arrived in, which Amelia had washed and dry cleaned.

"I have to go down to the studio. Bernard wants my opinion of the way he arranged my artwork." Angela told her, before she finished off her orange juice. "Do we have time to catch a lunch at the café before you leave?"

"We should. How's it going with your IronMan artwork?"

"It's prefect, of course." A squee smile plastered upon her. "One of my paints took a very long trip around the world."

"Yeah, how long?"

"Around the world twice before it went to it destination."

"Which is?" Natasha asked as she gathered the plates together and headed to the sink.

"LA, of course. But don't worry," she added quickly, "Amelia said that Jarvis and/or Tony couldn't trace it back, and if they did it would land them in The Keys. No where near Brooklyn."

"Good. They'll find you if you go back to your family." Natasha whispered to her as she went and stood next to her leaning against the counter. "We can't have that," she whispered into her ear.

A smile grew on her face along with a faint blush on her cheeks. The buzz of her phone, made her look at the screen, which showed her it was time to go. Standing, she kissed Natasha lightly on her cheek, "I need to go if I want to get out of there at a decent lunch hour."

"Call me when you're done, and I'll met you there."

"Prefect." And then she out the door. Her messenger bag slung across her chest. Her converse slapped lightly on the stairs as she went down.

Heading out of the building that held a bakery on the first floor and her apartment on the second, she walked into the crowded sidewalk. She blended into the others, not wanting to raw attention to herself. Walking down one block she turned right, as she turned she glanced over her shoulder. There was a man behind her. Twenty feet back, wearing jeans, a grey graphic t-shirt with sunglasses on. She had never seen him before, but the feeling that she had caused her senses to go into over-drive.

Knowing that she shouldn't continue on her way to the studio until she was sure, she took a left at the next street, and when she glanced behind her, he was there again. There was a farmer's market up ahead, and she decided to try and lose him there. Weaving through the vendors and the people. She ducked behind and crouched underneath one of the stall tables that had the front covered by a dark tablecloth. "What are you doing?" Looking up she found a woman knelling on the ground going through one of her boxes.

"Please don't tell anyone I'm here," she whispered, and forced tears to the surface.

"You're hiding." She said blatantly.

"My—my boyfriend—"

"Be quiet." The woman stood to her feet and started arranging her stall. One of the younger girls helping her asked her something only to be shushed. "Is he wearing jeans, grey shirt and sunglasses?"

"Oh my god," she whispered her voice filled with terror.

"Good morning, sir. Would you like to look at one of our homemade scarves for your wife?"

"I don't have a wife." His voice deep and rough.

"What about a girlfriend?"

"Actually, I'm looking for one of my friends. We got separated, when she went to look at the jewelry stall down the way. You haven't seen here by chance?"

"What does she look like?" The woman asked, as she folded up some of the scarves that she had displayed.

"Curly black hair elbow length, pulled back though. Jeans, white shirt with a thin green zip-up hood."

"Hmm, actually I saw someone who looked like that walk towards the barn area, where the kids can pet the animals."

"Thank you."

"You can come out now, he's gone." Crawling out from underneath she still stayed low. "I just sent him the wrong way, I suggest heading the other way and do it fast."

"Thank you so much."

"Just make sure you stay away from him."

"Thank you again." With that she looked around, she didn't see him anywhere. As she walked out of the farmers market, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number.

"That was fast," Natasha's said when she answered her phone.

"Natasha."

"What's wrong?"

"Someone—someone is following me."

Hope you like the first chapter. There will be more. Please review.