Italics are flashbacks
Natasha wasn't always on the streets.
When she was fourteen -two months after she ran away- she tried her luck in pick pocketing. There was really no other choice, the money she took with her -her life savings, which wasn't much- was running out. She was pretty good at it, well, she was good at running if she got caught. Which wasn't as often over the weeks, and Natasha got slightly cocky and less careful.
Natasha walked through the streets of New York with her hands stuffed in her pockets. Her bag bounced against her hip with each step, which eased her anxiety of some one stealing it as she scanned the crowds around her. She didn't really have a destination in mind, but her supplies were low and so was her cash.
She's learned who would be the easiest to steal from quickly, and the Swordsman fit that description easily- or she thought he did. Natasha never really learned his real name, and she never really cared to learn it either. Natasha did her usual trick of walking slowly behind him, then bumping into him. She couldn't find a wallet or even a watch and her eyes widened; realization crossed the Swordsman's face, and he grabbed her arm and pulled her into an alley.
The world around them was oblivious as his grip tightened on her wrist. "What is your name?" His voice was demanding and sent a shot of fear through Natasha. Despite it, she held her ground and stayed silent. His grip was painful, "answer me."
"Natalie Rushman," she spit out. She knew better than to use her real name.
"Well, Natalie," he said, releasing her arm, "that's quite a skill you've got."
There were red marks in the shape of his hands on her wrist. He was blocking the exit to the alley, and Natasha's eyes flicked behind him trying to think of a way out. "I wouldn't call stealing a skill."
"Ah, but I will," he took a step closer. If she elbowed him in the nose she could duck under him and get away. "I have a proposition for you, Natalie Rushman."
He was stepping closer and she decided she should add stomping his foot in for good measure. She raised her arm. "What is it?"
"I run a circus," she let out a small breath of relief, but she kept her arms raised, "you've got any other skills other than thievery?"
"Ballet."
His lips stretched into a smile, "perfect."
"I feel like you two are going to murder me."
Steve was laughing as he looked at Natasha from over his shoulder. She insisted on walking behind them, she still wasn't sure if she could trust them. They've been walking the crowded streets for over two hours now, and no one has told her where they're going. Countless faces passed by them in a blur, but her eyes constantly flickered over at Bucky's metal arm swinging as he walked and Steve's blond hair. There was no way she was losing them in the crowd.
"I asked Steve if we could while you were tying your shoe," Bucky said, "he said no."
Steve held up his hands. "Hey, I'm just being a gentleman."
"How romantic," Natasha said in a flat tone, "I'm swooning."
"I aim to please," Steve said, turning back around. But not before giving her another smile.
Natasha walked faster to catch up with them, and slipped her hand onto Steve's shoulder. "So where exactly are we going?"
"You'll see."
She huffed in annoyance, and fell back into step behind them.
For some crazy reason Natasha decided to take up the Swordsman's offer. The circus wasn't all that bad, there was always a place to sleep and she never had to skip a meal. It's lonely on the streets, that she will admit, and it was nice to be with people again. Even if it meant having to share a room with the rest of the ballerinas, the room was cramped with bunks and there was always arguments about stolen tights or jewlery, but Natasha called it home.
A chorus of laughs, footsteps, singing, and talking always echoed through the room, and girls would run from one bunk to another to trade secrets. But Natasha kept to herself; none of the ballerinas tried to approach her, she suspected she scared them off.
The only time she regretted not making friends was when she was lost. Countless hours were spent walking through halls and peeking through doorways. When the swordsman noticed a ballerina not on stage one night is when it became a problem.
He found her wandering through the halls, clutching her ballet slippers. Applause, music, and voices were muffled through the walls, and he dragged her through the halls and tugged her up stairs until they faded. "Why were you not on stage?"
"I was lost," she said as she pulled her arm back.
"How stupid are you?"
She clenched her jaw to contain her anger. "It's not like you ever showed me around," she muttered.
The swordsman groaned in frustration and grabbed her arm again. He pulled her to a door. "I already went on tonight!" A voice said as he opened the door.
"Good. You can show," he grabbed Natasha's shoulder and pushed her into the room, "her around." Then he turned on his heels, and slammed the door.
"Asshole," Natasha muttered.
"Guessing you're new here?" The voice piped up.
She turned around and smoothed down her dress. A boy was sitting on a stool polishing arrows, he looked around fifteen or sixteen. "How can you tell?"
"Well, you didn't know not to talk back to him," he nodded his head towards the door. "I'm Clint, Clint Barton."
"Natash-alie, Natalie," she corrected herself.
"Nice to me you, Natashalie."
"It's Natalie, you asshat."
"That's hurtful, Natashalie."
"It's Natalie!"
"Steve, stop looking at her like that."
"Like what?" Steve pretended to look confused, well, tried to.
Bucky rolled his eyes. "With that lovesick look that you get sometimes. She's, like, ten, stop being creepy."
Steve checked behind them to see if Natasha was listening. She wanted to stop and watch the daily reports on the screens, and Steve was relieved to see that she wasn't paying attention to them. "She isn't ten, she's," his voice trailed off, "well she's not ten."
"Already so defensive about her, Rogers"
"Shut up."
For some reason she couldn't shake Clint Barton off -though he swears it's the other way around- and found herself having her first real friend. She still remembers the last time she saw him.
Natasha had just got off of stage, and she was still in her costume. She was fifteen now, and was one of the few fifteen-year-olds left. She noticed that a few weeks ago, but she brushed it off as them just leaving the circus. The dressing room was empty until Clint barged in, she still remembers the look on his face. "You have to get out of here."
"Clint, you're not allowed in here!"
He grabbed her shoulders. "Natalie, listen to me! You have to leave."
She shook his hands off her shoulder. "You're freaking me out."
"I heard the swordsman talking to someone, I don't know who, but he's selling you," he said frantically.
Natasha's eyes widened. "What, to who?"
Clint was pacing around the room, and running his hands through his hair. "Hydra."
Natasha leaned against one of the vanities. "Hydra? Clint, you're not making any sense," Natasha said, incredulous.
Clint stopped pacing. "Why do you think all the ballerinas are dissapearing? Why do you think they cut us off from society? Why we haven't seen a phone or computer in years?"
Natasha stiffened and stayed quiet. Their heads both turned towards the door when they heard faint voices. Natasha pushed off the vanity and ran towards the door.
She ran through the halls as silent as she could, but she still heard the swordsman's voice and his footsteps coming towards her. While she was looking over her shoulder for him when she tripped on the stair step. She tumbled down the stairs, and her hand shot out to grab the railing. When she sat up, she was covered in bruises.
Natasha looked up to see the Swordsman looming over her. "Listen, you dumb bitch-" He stopped and fell on top of her. With a scream, she pushed him off her.
Clint was there holding a weight that he knocked the Swordsman unconscious with. "Run."
"We've been walking almost all night, where the hell are we going?"
"We're almost there-" Bucky said.
"Give me an actual answer," Natasha interrupted, "or I'm leaving."
Steve's shoulders stiffened and he turned around. "I swear only ten more minutes, and you'll see."
"Fine."
Steve stopped walking when they reached a building, and Natasha crashed into him. "God, you're like a wall."
Steve laughed and slipped his hand onto her back. "We're here."
Natasha looked up at the building. "I think I know this place."
"Its been abandoned for years," Bucky said.
"I've never been inside, I just use to walk by it almost everyday with my mom."
"Well," Bucky clapped a hand on her back, "it's your lucky day. We're going inside."
Steve's took his hand off her back before they went inside. It was more crowded that Natasha thought it would be. Countless people walked by them, a few greeted Bucky and Steve, and some eyed Natasha.
"Coulson said you brought in a stray." Natasha froze at the voice.
She turned around. "Clint?"
AN: There will be eventual Romanogers, and I promise I wont do a love triangle. I know that only Clint was in the circus, but I needed a way for them to meet and be separated.