Natasha POV

Clint looked at me fearfully and said "Tasha...who's going to interrogate her?"

I sighed and said "Clint...you know i'm the best at interrogation. Not that this is an interrogation, but you know what I mean." It has been ten hours since we brought her in and it was now 7am.

Throwing his hands up in the air, he said "We can't tell whether she will use her powers on you or not."

I turned around so we were face to face. "Who else is there Clint? I've beaten the toughest lie detectors in the world. I can handle her."

He shook his head in disagreement, but said "Just...be careful okay? You don't know what she is like." What had happened to him to make him so...afraid? Me and Clint had grown quite closer over the past couple of weeks. He had made comments about me 'taking care' often and I had started to become curious, especially after what happened yesterday? Him catching me when I tripped and the images the girl put in his mind. What makes me different from the other girls in the world? I have enhanced features, which make me look more beautiful, fortunate consequences of the red room, but he never once looked at me in that kind of way though. He got angry when others did. S.H.I.E.L.D recruits have been sent to medical for that. Multiple times. He is always so protective of me, but I can handle myself. He knows that I can. So why is he doing this?

"Yeah, I always am." He put his arms around me so that my face was pressed against his chest. I was hesitant at first, but I brought my arms up around him too. This felt so natural and comforting. I felt at peace. I sighed and held him a bit tighter before coming to my senses and letting go of him.

"See you later." I said, trying to get my mind off our intimate moment.

"Good luck." he said, smiling sadly. I just nodded and went through the door to where the girl was sitting.

She was in a slouched position and looked lifeless. When she woke up, several hours ago, she began screaming her head off and banging her arms against the walls, crying her eyes out. I felt sorry for her. "Hello I'm Black Widow...can you tell me your name please?"

She hesitated slightly, but then said "Heather", refusing to move her eye line from the centre of the table.

"Can you tell me what happened Heather?"

She looked up at me and I could see her eyes were bloodshot from crying. "What do you want to know?" she asked innocently, with the hint of an accent. Russian?

"I want to know how you gained your abilities."

She looked back down at the table again. "I only know the past five years of my life. Nothing before. My father, Ivan Petrovich, leads a program in Russia. I've been in his facility where they...experimented on people. He changed me...i-into this."

I didn't even think about the fact that she said she doesn't know before five years ago. Is she talking about what I think she is? The red room?

Her head snapped up. "You...you know it?"

I forgot that she can read minds. Part of the meeting was about gaining trust, so I have to tell the truth and explain to her what happened to me. "I was five when he took me and made me into the Black Widow."

"What did they do to you?" I looked at the mirror glass. Please don't be behind that glass. "Who is it that you don't want hearing us?" she asked.

I snapped my head back around. "No one. Anyway...I was taken in at the age of 5 when my house was burnt to the ground. My parents were killed in the fire. They injected me with multiple serums and I was trained to the highest level of combat. They..." I took a breath and continued "They abused me."

She crossed her eyebrows. "What do you mean...abused you?"

"Petrovich used to leave me..." I shifted in my seat slightly. Please don't be listening Clint. "alone...with his men."

Her eyebrows still reflected her confusion. "Why didn't you fight them off?"

"I thought it was normal. I had no other life." There was a knock at the door. Rogers was standing there.

"There's been a situation that I need you to deal with immediately."

"Do you really think this is the time? I'm in the middle of a meeting here. Nothing is more important."

Steve moved out of the way and there was Barton, sprawled across the floor, knocked out. "I'm guessing that's Clint?" Heather asked. How did she...oh 'Please don't be listening Clint.'

"He was trying to leave for Russia to find Petrovich." Steve said.

"Oh shit." I said.

"Language."

I looked up, ignored his comment and asked "He heard?"

He nodded and said "He didn't exactly take it very well. How about I take over whilst you take care of him?"

"Is that alright with you Heather?" I asked, painfully drawing my gaze away from Clint to look at her.

"Yeah...I..I don't mind." She sounded slightly hesitant, but smiled quickly at the end of her sentence at Rogers, a smile which Rogers returned.

I took that as my cue to leave. Now, I have to deal with Clint. Great.

Heather POV

He was definitely the leader. Or a leader of some form. He had a commanding presence and a voice that people respected and didn't envy. Black Widow exited the room and the man shut the door.

"Hello. My name is Captain Rogers. It is nice to meet you Heather." He extended his hand out to greet me.

I shook his hand and replied "Good to meet you too, Mr. Rogers." After everything that had happened to me, he made me feel slightly uplifted. I don't know why?

He smiled and sat down. "I heard the conversation between you two. I would like to ask you about your life before five years ago, if that is okay with you ma'am?"

Ma'am? I looked down at the table. I didn't want to say it, but i'd have to get it over with at some point or another.

"I...I can't remember. All I know is that Ivan is my father."

"How do you know that he is?" Rogers asked. That stooped me.

"What..what do you mean? Wh-why would he lie to me? He is my father."

"He could have put that idea in your mind, so that maybe you wouldn't fight him."

"No! No, you're wrong! He is my father!" He was starting to annoy me now and I could feel the anger rising within. This isn't happening!

"You can't know that for certain." he argued quite softly, but I lost my temper.

"YOU'RE WRONG!" I screamed, pushing my hands forward, commanding the energy out towards him. My eyes flicked as i adjusted to the images in front of me. When I look into someone's past, I don't become them. I am an observer.

I saw a skinnier version of Rogers talking to another man, supposedly one of his friends due to his interactions.

I don't understand! Why is he dressed like that? Why does he look that way? And where is this place?

Then I saw him being placed in a big machine. I could hear him screaming...what kind of experiment was this? The technology was ancient. The machine opened up to reveal a modern day version of Rogers, all muscle. So he had a serum in him too. It then went on to show a woman, who gave him admiring looks, which he returned. Who was she? She looked like some sort of commanding officer.

The images went over my eyes showing him fighting alongside the man from earlier on. A few seconds later, it showed them fighting people on a train together. The other man was pushed off the train and fell off a cliff. I could see the pain in Roger's eyes. It hurt me to carry on looking through his past, but I literally cannot stop. When I produce an image of a nightmare, like I did with Clint, I can control how long it lasts, but the past is another thing entirely.

Rogers was in an old fashioned car, which was going down a runway. They were following a helicopter. The woman from earlier got up and kissed him before he jumped onto the helicopter. My mind was dragged to the next image of him driving the plane into the water.

Suddenly, I saw Rogers wake up in a bed, that still looked in the same era. How did that work? A woman came through the door of his room and started speaking to him. The words were incomprehensible, but I could tell he was getting angry about what she was saying.

He pushed through a wall and went out into the streets of some kind of city. I hadn't seen much of anywhere outside Russia and I didn't know where this was. There were tall skyscrapers and people rushing around. This was definitely the current time zone.

Rogers looked scared and confused. The scene switched to him fighting with another person in a red cape against some kind of aliens. I was dragged to another time of him on a balcony with a sketchbook, looking out at the same city. He must live here or something? He was sitting on a chair of a huge building. Where was this place? Before I had the chance to look for some kind of logo, the colours blurred in my eyes and I focussed back in on the room around me. Rogers was in the corner of the room shaking.

"I'm sorry. I-I wanted to stop, but I...I couldn't. I just can't when it comes to looking into people's pasts."

Rogers pushed passed me and went out of the door, locking it as he left.

Well...that went well.

I hope you liked this second chapter :) Please review and tell me what you think!