In this chapter, there's a little bit of Russian and French spoken. The translations are in the author's note at the bottom. Enjoy!

Thor and Natasha were talking together in the Stark library, a room that was serene and held no disturbances. "Lady Natasha," Thor began.

"Just call me Natasha," she said, breaking into a grin.

"I have spoken to my brother earlier," Thor said.

She raised an eyebrow. That must not have gone well. She was just sitting in her bed, reading a Russian magazine, when Thor paged her comlink and asked to speak to her. She was not completely sure why. After all, it seemed he wanted to have a heart to heart about Loki, and in truth, Steve was the most compassionate one of the group. She was baffled as to why Thor didn't choose Steve to rant about his Loki. But when she saw Thor, he had the unmistakable look of sorrow in his eyes. And so, she didn't have the heart to turn him down.

" How did that go?" Natasha asked.

Thor sighed, and then recounted the entire meeting.

Thor went into Loki's room to speak with him. Loki was sitting on a chair, staring out the window, his hands clasped in his lap.

"Brother," Thor stated.

Loki turned around, his green eyes fixated on Thor, narrowed with anger. "I am NOT your brother. How DARE you make a mockery of me."

"Loki," Thor said, adopting a pleading tone: "You don't remember us being not only brothers, but friends-"

"Maybe once," said Loki, "But not now."

Loki then stood, and walked over to Thor. "YOU ARE THE LAST PERSON I WISH TO SEE. I HAVE NEVER BEEN EQUAL TO YOU. DO ME A FAVOR, AND LEAVE," Loki yelled, and pushed Thor, who stumbled back.

"What have I done to you? Please, let me know," Thor begged.

"It is FAR too late for that," Loki rasped. "You may beg, you may squander, but in fact, you are now just as feeble as the rest of this despicable race. No one has ever had any sentiment for me. You are father's favorite, everyone LOVES YOU, Thor. Oh, how the crowds cheered when you walked through the halls, treating you as some god from Valhalla! Oh, how the girls fawned over you! Oh, how the boys wished to be you! But me? But ME? OH, I WAS THE MONSTER THAT ODIN HIMSELF USED AS TOOLS TO SCARE US SO THAT WE WOULD BEHAVE AS CHILDREN, BUT WHO KNEW THAT MONSTER WAS CONSTANTLY LURKING!" Loki was breathing hard, tears pooling in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

"Brother," Thor said, his voice cracking. Loki turned his face to the side. Thor continued, "You were my favori-"

"Oh, that is complete insanity, your favorite is that weak mortal woman you LOVE sooo much," Loki spat.

"I love Jane," Thor said. "But I love you too. You are my brother. You have always been my favorite, you have always been my companion over the years. And Odin does love you. He cast me out once too, can't you remember?"

"Oh, please," Loki said, rolling his eyes. "How is it any different? I have always been a cast out, really, even in Asgard!"

"Loki, I just want to help you," Thor pleaded.

"Just leave me be, your presence is toxic," Loki hissed.

Thor finally did depart, and felt like his heart was broken in two pieces.

"Uh, wow," Natasha said, unsure of how to console the demigod. "Um, that is not good…"

"No," Thor said. "It's not. I need your help." Natasha's eyebrows shot up. "My help? How can I possibly help Loki?"

"I recall him telling you your ledger was gushing, dripping red…"

Natasha looked at the ground, and then back at Thor. "I have done bad things before. I have killed. I have been in the wrong."

Thor looked at her. "I feel that you might understand Loki's actions better than I can."

"I can relate," admitted Natasha. "But, I seriously doubt he is going to be open to having a chat with me. Loki doesn't seem like the sentimental type, and neither am I."

Thor replied, "No. But, I feel you may be able to reach Loki in time…you two are both masters of the mind, skilled in your art."

Natasha gave him a wry smile. "Thank you. You know, I have been in that position where I've felt vengeful, and hateful, and instead of dealing with my real problems, I chose the wrong path."

Thor suddenly broke out into a grin. "I finally have hope!" He embraced Natasha, who suddenly felt a bit awkward, but gave him a slight pat on the back.

Natasha lay in her bed, and stared at the ceiling, sleep missing her completely. There were some days that went by normally for her, and then, there were days that she had to relive her worst nightmares, the ones that filled her heart with remorse.

But eventually, she did.

The little girl sat at the dinner table with her parents, digging heartily into the borsch soup her mother had cooked. She held her dollenka in her lap, a beloved toy she had since she was a baby. Her sister sat next to her, drawing circles on the table with her index finger.

"Annochka, eсt пожалуйcta. я долга рабоtало на еtо."

Anna Romanova barely listened. Natasha, on the contrary, had always been a big eater. The family lapsed into silence. This serenity was harshly broken by a loud knock on the door. Natasha's father started to get up, but her mother said, " Het проблемa, я могу оtпереtб." Mr. Romanoff watched his wife walk to the door, and continued reading his paper. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, and they heard a loud 'thump.' Natasha screamed, clutching her doll. They heard brutish yells at the door, and boots trampling on the ground. The family had started to get up, but not fast enough. Five officers appeared in the kitchen, yielding guns. Natasha was now trembling, tears pouring down her four year old face. Anna grabbed Natasha's hand.

"чtо вы делал с моя жена?" Mr. Romanoff yelled, his arms restrained by two officers.

One officer appeared in front of him, sporting a well groomed goatee and eyes that had the persona of death.

"вы ни дала мне чtо я хоtело," the officer said simply.

"Y мне две дочки, ни вредиtб их!," Mr. Romanoff pleaded.

Anna grasped Natasha's hand, and their frightened eyes rested on their father's, who was bargaining- but what for?

The officer stared at them for a second, and then said, "il n'a pas tenu sa promesse. Prenez les deux filles, et tuez-le. Assurez-vous qu'ils voient, qu'ils sachent bêtise est récompensé."

Anna and Natasha were very confused, as they did not know a single word of French. But suddenly, their father said to them that he loved them so much, and no matter what, to lead good lives. They got scared, and Anna started to yell at the officers, who came and pinned her and her sister down. The officer who spoke lifted a gun, and placed it to their father's forehead. His eyes pleaded with them to understand. They were screaming, crying, and then there was a single shot, and their father slumped to the floor. They were hysterical, and the soldiers dragged the girls out of the room, their memories permanently scarred. Natasha was slumped over an officer's shoulder, and they passed by her dead mother, sprawled on the floor, a dark red blossoming beneath her blue dress. Natasha started kicking, screaming, hoping…

Natasha jolted awake, breathing hard. It took a little while for her heart to stop beating against her ribcage. She ran a hand through her dampened locks and stared at the clock. 2:42 a.m. She groaned, and swung out of bed. She absolutely hated when this happened. Sometimes she slept peacefully, and had no recollection of a dream. The only dreams she has are bad ones, and some of them are simply resurrected memories, none of which are pleasant. Usually in her apartment back home, she would go and relieve stress by either a) alcohol, or b) exercise. She opted for option B, because a criminal was currently residing in the building, and she needed to have her wits as sharp as they could be. Loki was, after all, the 'God of Mischief.'

Loki had awoken from yet another nightmare, and was now resting in the bathroom, his elbows propped up on the sink, and his fingers embedded in his hair. The whole day had been an utter disaster. First, Thor antagonized him (although a part in him suggested he was being sincere). Loki refused to eat or drink all day, so he ended up really dehydrated. He was able to go for a long time, usually, without drink or food. But as a mortal, he had to constantly consume both just to get through the day. He suddenly felt extremely claustrophobic in the small bathroom, like he had been once when he was a little boy. There had been an open closet door in one of palace rooms, and he was curious. But the closet must have been enchanted, because as soon as he got in, the door slammed shut, and he was stuck there for about three hours. Loki abruptly left his room, to approach the dark hallway. He had absolutely no idea where to go. He could not escape, due to the fact that Stark had his stupid robots posted at every exit. He decided to just navigate random floors using the elevator, and pray that no one would wake up. Loki stepped inside, and noticed in the elevator a leaflet indicating which floor led where. How did he not notice this? Was he losing his keen sight? But then, Loki remembered, he was furious the last time he was here, and had not bothered to pay attention to anything. Anyways, on the top floor happened to be an exercise room, and the library. Loki felt weak as a mortal, and maybe with some type of workout he could fool himself into thinking he had regained his strength. Or, he could read. He did love books. He was unsure about Midgardian books, but he had read a fair share of Shakespeare, which he found to be quite interesting.

So, Loki made his way up to the last floor, and when he got out, he noticed the hallways were pitch black. He groped along the wall to find some kind of light switch. If he had his magic, he could produce some sort of light. Thinking about his loss of magic just made him angry and distracted, so Loki tried to push it to the back of his mind. His tread upon the floor was very soft, as he had perfected it. He had done pretty well hunting back in Asgard due to that. Thor's heavy footsteps usually would sent all the animals running.

Loki suddenly collided with a hard, moving object. He almost flew to the ground, but managed to regain his balance. The figure yelled out, and he quickly kicked, his foot colliding with whoever it was with a thump. He suddenly felt a fist graze his jaw, and arms come out to grab his. "Who is this?" he said.

"Natasha, who's this?"

"Loki," he said, albeit nervously.

He was suddenly released, and the lights flickered on. Natasha faced him, her hair rumpled, and her eyes bloodshot.

"Are you drunk?" Loki asked, smirking.

"No," she said sharply, her eyes narrowing."Are you?"

Loki chuckled. "Why do you ask? Surprised I'm wandering the hallways at night? How about you? "

"Are you trying to escape? Because that's pretty dumb," she said.

Loki sighed, and said, "No. I could not sleep. I needed to clear my mind. "

"I see," Natasha said.

She looked at the ex-demigod, searching his face to see if he was lying. But no, all she could see were bags under his eyes, and his thin, wan face appeared almost pitiful.

"Well," she continued, "Same."

Maybe, I could try to talk to him.

"Now, isn't that lovely," he said wryly. "I guess I'll depart now," Loki said, turning to go leave.

Natasha quickly said, "Wait. No. It's okay. I get it, you've had a rough couple of days. You really should blow off some steam."

Loki stood for a moment, contemplating. "All right," he said, shrugging his shoulders as he walked past her.

She followed him into the room, feeling a bit weirded out that she'd be training along with Loki. But, whatever. Thor had asked her to, well, 'help him.' Er, okay. She didn't think that she was the right person to play therapist, considering that she probably needed therapy herself to fix the countless years of damage.

She scanned the exercise room, the scent of leather filling her nose. The fluorescent lights shone brightly in the large room. There were large blue exercise mats placed on the floor. There were dark brown punching bags hanging from the ceiling. Collected by the side were a pile of those bags. There was a boxing ring, targets for shooting practice, treadmills, ellipticals, and a metal display case containing possibly every weapon, except for guns.

"This is insanely puny," Loki said.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Well, if you don't like it, just leave."

"Snarky, today, aren't we?" Loki said, smirking.

Natasha let out a laugh. "And you aren't?"

"I am not denying that I am, I'm the God of Mischief," he said, raising his head in pride.

Natasha replied, "Ex-god."

She suddenly ducked, and a knife went deep into the padded wall on the opposite end. She immediately pulled out the gun holstered to her hip, and turned to face Loki, his face in a slight grin.

Her grip on the weapon was firm, and the barrel was pointed at his face. "You said before that I wouldn't shoot you. I can change that."

Loki stared at her, his expression unreadable, his eyes blank. "I was just testing you...Tasha."

She felt a slight prick of annoyance at his mockery of Clint's nickname for her, and readjusted the grip of the gun in her slippery hand. "You currently share a building with a demi-god, Iron Man, Captain America, Clint, Hulk, and me. You haven't had the best time with any of them, and lucky for you, my friends would like nothing more than to puncture your eye with an arrow."

Loki was silent, watching her in contemplation.

She continued, "And, let us not forget how Bruce used you as his personal punching bag, all-right?"

Loki's mouth twitched.

"You really shouldn't antagonize someone who holds a gun," Natasha said. "Okay?"

He still remained taciturn.

"OKAY?" Natasha repeated, at a louder decibel.

"Fair enough," he replied, and dragged one of the bulbous punching bags over from the wall. He struggled to lift it up, and then hung it on a hook projected from the ceiling. Loki then positioned his feet in a half-moon stance, and raised his fists in preparation.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, surprised that he hadn't lay out a new row of complaints against her. "Um," she said, "Aren't you going to wear gloves, or bandages at least? You'll scrape up your knuckles."

"No," he scoffed. "In Asgard, when I was training, I never hurt my hands."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

She slipped on her training gloves, and tied back her short hair. She focused on all of her stress, her pent up anger, and let it out on the bag. She was silent as she left punch after punch, an uppercut, a knifehand, a palm strike. She resorted to simple punches, and then started to kick. She jumped in the air to do a flying roundhouse, and landed softly in a crouch. She did a front flip and performed a side kick to the bag, which fell off the hook and thudded to the floor. She had a sense that Loki was watching her. But when she turned to call him out, he was busy. He was lithe, smooth in operation, and hit with certainty. Before long, his came off the hook as well. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, sweat dripping off his narrow nose, and his long, thin fingers were still in a fist. He suddenly turned around.

"What?" he asked.

"Have you ever heard of capoeira?" she inquired.

Loki looked at her for a moment, eyes searching hers. "Where did I grow up?"

"Uh…Asgard?" Natasha replied, a little bit confused.

"Exactly. So explain to me how I would know that Midgardian term," Loki said.

Natasha said, "Capoeira is a martial art technique that comes from Brazil. It's graceful, and it's sort of a sneak and attack thing. It's similar to your fighting style, actually."

"So, you have been watching me pretty well, Miss Romanova." Loki said softly, in a condescending tone.

Natasha let out a breath. "First off, why did you-"

"Isn't that a Russian tradition? At least that's what your boyfriend said to me," Loki said, interrupting her.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "I used to say my last name was Romanoff in Russia, just to mess with people, and it kind of stuck. Oh, and Clint is not my boyfriend," she said, her voice dropping a level.

Loki held out his hands. "No need to become angry, but it seems like he has a crush on the little spider."

Natasha crossed her arms. She thought about Clint a bit, but everything he had said and done was purely platonic.

"Clint is just my fighting partner. Why do you care anyways, Loki? Do you have a crush on me?" Natasha was just teasing, and she was curious to see what Loki would say. He would probably just laugh at her.

Turns out she was correct. Loki did laugh, and said, "A crush? On a mortal? Oh, Natasha, how you make me laugh."

Natasha smirked, and suddenly yawned. She looked at the clock projected on the wall, and it read: 4:00 a.m. "I'm going back to bed," she said. "I suggest you do the same."

"Don't order me around, woman," Loki sneered.

But just as the elevator doors were closing, she saw him leave the exercise room, and turn off the lights.

Huh. That was not what she had expected at all.

Author's note:

Well, there you go. I find that each chapter gets longer, and longer. And that's good, in my opinion. : )

So here are the translations in order of which they appear:

Annochka is a pet name for Anna. (I know this because I speak Russian, lol). "Eat, please, I worked for a long time on that."

No problem, I'll get it.

What did you do with my wife?

I have two daughters, don't harm them.

He did not fulfill his promise. Take the two girls. Make sure they know how stupidity is rewarded.

Oh, and when I was copying and pasting the Russian words from some site, some letters didn't paste right, and I tried like five times to fix it. So, if you are Russian and see that, sorry!

I also decided to break up all of Natasha's memories into various chapters, instead of bunching it all together in one huge chapter. So please be patient! In time, you'll find out what happened in Budapest.

Anyways, I hope you all are enjoying the story, please review!

Love you all!