In her dreams, she was back in Russia. She always seemed to be in Russia. It was her homeland, so of course it would make sense to dream about it. But no, she hated that place with all of her strength. She refused to ever go back there, unless forced to by SHIELD.
The dreams that usually took place in Russia were nightmares, but this one wasn't. Surprisingly, it was of something pleasant. In this dream, no, a memory, in this memory, she was being saved. Saved when she didn't know she needed to be saved. She had been strong for so long, and had been working alone since separating from the Red Room. She knew James was out there hunting her, and luckily she had managed to evade him for that long, but she was still running.
Until she was stopped dead in her tracks. Caught by an American agent with ocean blue eyes and a cocky smirk that, at the time, made her blood boil. Caught mid-mission by a man who held a gun to her back and then whispered softly in her ear. When he forced her away from the spot where her target was, all while chatting about what he had read in her file, she realized something.
She was tired. Of everything, really. She was tired of the bloody work she did, tired of having to change hotel rooms every other day. She was exhausted. She could have taken the American down in one move, sure, but she was tired of fighting. She decided that it would be better to have a stranger kill her in the end.
And when she expected a bullet through her head, it didn't come. In its place was an invitation. To join him, this American, and the organization that he worked for.
"Are you insane?" She had said after staring at him with wide eyes.
"No, I just think that you're worth it." He smirked and she frowned.
"How the hell would you know what I'm worth?"
"Let's just say I'm a good judge of character."