A/N: Thanks for reviewing!

If you're lost, how can you grow from where you've been

Life is more or less predictable. He rises early to train on his own, then spends the afternoon and evening training the Widows. Hand-to-hand combat is usually done with each of them individually. Weapons training involves all six. They are all improving, though at differing rates. He is surprised when Elena is considered good enough to graduate – she was not the best performer, in his evaluation. But he says nothing. Perhaps she far excelled the others in different aspects of their training.

Now there are five Widows to train. He wonders for the first time what will happen to him after they all graduate. Will he be asked to train more people? Or return to the kinds of missions he was doing before? The thought concerns him in a way he can't remember being concerned before.

After Elena graduates, he is training Natalia when she is injured. He finds himself unexpectedly concerned about this, too. Neither of these concerns are part of his mission right now, so why should he care? He has handlers to figure out what to do with him and when. And injuries are common in his line of work – why be so worried about Natalia? He sends her to the infirmary instead of finishing their training session. The woman in charge tells him later that this was unacceptable – the girls have to learn to work past the point of pain.

That makes sense. He doesn't argue, but he thinks about how permanent damage to Natalia's arm might have negated all these years of training. He should say that. He doesn't. She dismisses him and he returns to his quarters.

The next weeks go much the same as previous ones, despite Elena's absence. Natalia seems more subdued in her sessions, perhaps due to pain in her arm. He tries not to target it whenever possible. If she notices, she doesn't acknowledge it.

One day, Natalia nearly gets the upper hand on him. She had been distant, almost going through the motions as they spar. Perhaps his techniques have grown too familiar. He decides to switch them up, which forces her to play defense.

"Come on, Natalia," he urges as he manages to land a blow on her shoulder.

She hisses in pain, then lunges suddenly. Her legs wrap around his shoulders and she throws her weight to one side, overbalancing him. It was alarmingly effective. He lands hard on his right side and she scrambles to escape. Using his left arm, he grabs hold of her and drags her back down, moving to pin her with his weight. He reaches for her throat and she taps his arm twice, looking disappointed.

He releases her and gets to his feet, offering a hand to help her up. He wants to ask if she's okay, but that's not his job. "That was good," he says instead.

She smiles faintly, the expression not reaching her eyes. It never does.

"You almost had him there, Natalia," the woman in charge calls to them and he remembers that they are rarely left alone for long. "I am very impressed."

Natalia forces a broader smile. "Thank you, Madame."

"Tomorrow, we will have to bring Mr. Bleach to observe you. I think you might just be ready to graduate, my dear," the woman continues, sounding pleased.

Natalia flinches. "Thank you," she repeats very quietly.

The two of them leave and he waits patiently for his next trainee to enter.

There are several observers for Natalia's session the next day. He wonders if she is nervous. More surprisingly, there are other men here who will be fighting her, too. He thinks he has always worked alone, and this wasn't what they did with Elena, but he doesn't comment. If that is how they want to test her, he will do his best to present a challenge.

He doesn't need to do that. Natalia goes through the others with efficiency, knocking one out against the piano, but leaves herself open to his attack. He manages to put both arms around her shoulders before she can react, and she leans forward as if to throw him off. That failing, she taps him to be released. He does so and steps back, concerned when she does not immediately straighten.

"Sloppy," the woman says in distaste. "Pretending to fail." She pauses, expression softening. "The ceremony is necessary. For you to find your place in the world."

Natalia is breathing hard, maybe from more than the effort of fighting. "I have no place in the world," she states and he thinks he can tell a hint of horror in her voice.

"Exactly," the woman affirms, pleased. "Again, please. Show us what you can do, Natalia," she orders, an edge to her voice.

Natalia glances at him and he sees fear in her eyes. Then she attacks. There is a desperation to her technique that hasn't been there before. It's very effective against the others and she does better at avoiding him until there is no one else left. Then she jumps at him, like she did the other day. Maybe he is being sloppy, too, because he doesn't stop himself from being brought down, and doesn't reach for her fast enough as she jumps away.

"Excellent," Bleach says, and those around him express their agreement.

The woman states she is ready to graduate, and they lead Natalia away. She looks back toward him, possibly understanding that he let her be successful. Her expression is unreadable and he watches her go.

Natalia doesn't return for training the next day. One by one, each Widow is removed from his sessions. When the last girl, Svetlana, is led away, Bleach approaches him. "You've done good work, Soldier. We will make use of your talents again in the future. For now, though, I think we have another use for you."

He nods. Bleach escorts him to a car. It is not the same as the one that brought him here, but it seems to bring him back to his old life nonetheless. There are three men, different but not in any substantial way from his previous handlers. They do not speak to him, just start driving and shoot concerned glances his way whenever possible as the car winds down snowy country roads.

Hours pass. He wonders if he'll ever see any of the Widows again. Or if the use his talents will take on in the future will be to train another set of people. Did he like training others? He thinks so. He is disappointed to be leaving the facility. He is disappointed to return to his life of silence and cold performance. No one will talk to him about his technique and he cannot discuss all the things he has learned are necessary to be able to do on a mission. He is again surrounded by people who may fear and respect his abilities, but do not treat him like a person. He is a weapon, nothing more.

The days have lost their predictability and run into each other. Sometimes he stays up for many hours in a row, staking out a location to wait for his target to return. Sometimes there are no targets and he is left in a small room to sleep or whatever he wishes for long periods. The only thing to mark the passage of time is that he must report on his missions when they are over and receive a new one. For this, he is taken back to the facility in the middle of nowhere to speak to Bleach or the woman in charge of the Widows sometimes.

It is difficult not to look for the Widows when he comes back. But he is never left unescorted, nor does he remain there for very long. The people charged with driving him alternate and the next set are ready to go as soon as he has finished being debriefed. So he goes back to work.

The exhaustion he felt before coming here had been alleviated by the regular schedule of eating and sleeping, but it does not take long before he can feel it permeating his bones. Still, he is needed and has work to do. He does it without complaining, though he has started to question his superiors during his debriefings. Sometimes their suggested methods are inefficient or overly cruel. He won't kill children, or parents in front of their children. Bleach takes these corrections in stride but the woman smiles at him in a way that is intended to remind him how easily she could make his life worse.

Snow drifts down gently and would be pretty if it didn't mess with his eyeline. He blinks away the flakes and stares intently into the adjoining building. The target does not appear to be present, but he needs to be sure. He glances down at the picture he was given of the man who, for whatever reason, has been deemed an enemy of the state. Then he looks back into the apartment using the scope on his rifle, holding his breath to stay steady as he studies each person carefully.

There! The man is coming in through the door. He waits patiently until the other people are finished embracing the man in greeting, until he is somewhat apart again, then he fires.

A cursory glance shows his success, and he hastily packs up his rifle. His handlers are several blocks away and he makes his way down to the ground via the fire escape, keeping an eye out for any witnesses. Or approaching authorities.

He has made it two blocks before the sound of footsteps in the otherwise deserted alley brings him up short. Staring into the darkness, he tries to determine the threat level.

"You could have given me a little more time. I would have gotten some more information," a familiar voice surprises him and he can just make her out in the shadows, wearing a black dress.

"Natalia?"