A/N: Thanks for reviewing!

Now put yourself back together again

They must have made a mistake. He wasn't sure how or when, or if it was just the same mistake, over and over, that was bound to be noticed eventually. After the first mission on which he and Natalia were sent together, their superiors were pleased with the results. They were efficient and left no trace – Natalia made sure of that. It was impressive, they were told, and he tried not to smile at the assessment. Because it was true but they had no idea why it was so impressive.

The department did not allow for its people to develop attachments. It was in the business of creating perfect weapons and did not care for the human element inherent in their agents. He had seen some of how the Widows had it trained out of them, keeping only enough to help them blend in with civilians. Since he rarely needed to blend in with other people, he had even less humanity. But Natalia touched some part of what was left and it changed everything.

He followed his orders, whether Natalia was part of them or not, but he began to consider for the first time how he came to be here. Who he might have been before. Why he was chosen. Obviously, he must have had some demonstrable skills before they took him and broke him of anything that wouldn't directly serve their purposes. He ate because he was told, not because he was hungry or enjoyed what they fed him. He slept when allowed, regardless of his level of exhaustion. He killed because they told him it was the right thing to do to protect their country. He trusted their judgement implicitly. Until Natalia reminded him that maybe he didn't have to, that maybe he had a choice.

Not much of one, of course. He was acutely aware of what their masters would do with a broken weapon. They'd be sent to Siberia or worse if anyone ever found out about their affair. But even that threat was worth it, to feel like a person every once in a while. To talk to Natalia about what living a normal life had been like before she came here, about what it was like to be deep enough undercover that she pretended to have a normal life again.

They talked about what it was like to be nothing but a tool. They talked about daring to hope for something else in the future. Though both were devoted to their cause, perhaps someday they could retire together and keep a little house in the suburbs. It was a strange dream, one that didn't feel like it could possibly ever happen. But they were both very good at pretending.

It wasn't sloppiness that got them caught. They never saw each other when they were in the compound, except for briefings. During these, they were politely distant – maybe too distant, maybe they overplayed their hand. But he didn't think so. They acted like colleagues who had a level of trust in the other, nothing more. Nothing less.

When they were on a mission, Natalia continued to be sent first to infiltrate the situation. She would send for him when she had sufficient information to include him in the operation. It was much easier for her to get them somewhere than for him to do it himself. Far too many years had passed since he had been in polite society, if ever, for him to pass as a normal person again. She slipped into any role as easily as changing clothes.

They were not sloppy on missions, either. If there were handlers or other ways of communicating with their superiors, they would remain discreet. Limited speaking, keeping out of each other's personal space, complete focus on the job. Only when they were sure that they would not be seen did they do what they really wanted to do.

He couldn't remember anyone being nice to him, or even treating him like a person. It did something to him, to his programming, and he began to get more confused. He would forget where he was, what he was doing, whom he was with, after falling deeply into some other scenario in his head. He never knew if these were real. Maybe it was his past life, coming back to him. Maybe it was just noise after what they did to him. It was even possible that they were memories fed to him by his masters for some reason.

The people in the facility were not his masters, not really. He had never seen them before coming here to train the Widows. But he was beginning to remember other masters, other people who told him what to do and hurt him if he didn't comply. They were distorted and the memories bled together, however hard he tried to focus on them. Would he see them again? Or was this going to be his assignment forever?

He could hope that it would be, but knew it was unlikely. Natalia was becoming more and more skilled as they went along; soon, she might surpass him in all but direct attacks. And he had an unfair advantage there. What would happen when he was no longer needed?

Frequently, he woke up screaming. When Natalia was there, she did her best to comfort him. He hated when he was alone. The nightmares were too real for him to be sure that they were over if he awakened in his cell or in some strange safehouse or another. So many of his fractured memories seemed to be of the same situations and he would get confused about what was happening now and what was just in his head.

Natalia had nightmares, too. She would not wake up screaming, but would thrash around. He would wake her gently and sometimes she would attack him reflexively. Then he would have to pin her until she calmed down enough to recognize him and apologize prettily. He would smile and hold her until she slept again, wishing she would talk about what hurt her like she always encouraged him to do.

Maybe that was a problem. He was becoming a regular person again, with his own ideas about what to do and how to do it, though he tried to keep this to himself when talking to his masters. But perhaps they noticed him acting differently on missions, or how he had started questioning mission parameters. Whatever it was, they made a mistake. And that was unacceptable.

They were returning from a mission, he'd given her one last kiss before they were picked up, and now both were emotionless and silent on the ride back to the facility. The people driving were the same who had dropped them off for another successful mission, so there was no cause for concern from that quarter.

When they arrived, though, there was a man standing outside. Natalia looked at him curiously, but he recognized him instantly. He didn't know his name or anything about him, only that he had definitely seen him before and not in exactly in pleasant circumstances. He must have tensed because Natalia glanced over at him briefly before exiting the vehicle. The man did not address her and she went inside.

"Soldat," the man said calmly and he came to a stop in front of him. "Have you been representing me poorly?" he asked.

"No, sir," was the obvious answer.

The man gave a slight smile and led the way into the building. He followed, fighting the nausea rising in his throat as his stomach twisted. They went to the same briefing room as always, where Natalia was already waiting. The woman in charge entered, her expression stern.

"What is the nature of your relationship?" she asked.

Natalia's eyebrows rose but she did not react otherwise. He kept his face expressionless, afraid what any sign of hearing the question might indicate. "I don't understand, Madame B. You have sent me on missions with him and we tend to get along well in the field."

The woman snorted. "Yes, quite well, I hear."

He stared intently straight ahead and wished this moment would end instead of stretching on forever like it felt like it was doing.

"Madame?" Natalia asked, sounding convincingly confused.

"You are a disgrace to this program and to your country. You have used sensitive operations as an excuse to engage in… fornication," the woman snapped.

The game was up. He let himself look at Natalia to see how she was taking this. They had both known it could end this way, but had never talked about what to do when it did. She was so pretty, even as afraid as she looked now. He was glad to have gotten to know her, no matter what happened next.

"That's… That's not true," Natalia denied, wavering.

The woman smiled grimly. "What? Are you going to say you were in love? Love is for children, Natalia." Her tone was as gentle an admonishment as if Natalia had merely made a mistake in the classroom. "It seems you're correct about him becoming unstable, Karpov. You can take him back; he has outstayed his welcome here."

Karpov was a vaguely familiar name and he looked up at the man, then back at Natalia. Escape was impossible, but that didn't stop him from trying to get to her. More men came out of nowhere and brought him down with difficulty. Natalia was crying and he wished she wasn't, or that he could get close enough to wipe her tears away. Instead, he was dragged away and he watched her as long as he could. She ran along after them, no one apparently interested in stopping her, and could do nothing but watch as he was placed on a chair he remembered far too well. Then he remembered nothing.