AN: To make up for my stupidity I am posting another chapter right away! But given it's not the happiest chapter I'm sure you'll be happy to know we are getting Clint back VERY soon!

Natasha had only been introduced to her bed a day ago. The past week and a half she had spent her nights undergoing experiments. After every nurse Natasha had, insisted she needed at least three days of rest, Hansen gave her one. She didn't mind so much. This was how the bad guys were taken down. They always wanted things to be done faster and faster, pushing the limits of safety until something goes wrong and they make a mistake. That was bound to happen with the Shadow Paragon at some point. But then again, she thought, he is Hansen so who knows.

Staring at the other set of elevator doors that probably didn't have an elevator behind it and was destined to be your doom wasn't much fun, but it was a lot better than being a test subject.

She heard a ding and smiled. It was that time of day again. The elevator doors slid open and Clint Barton walked through. He was rigid, holding his a little higher than what was natural, he squared his shoulders to the point where it almost looked uncomfortable. She knew why. He was trying to compensate for vulnerability he felt inside, what only Natasha could see. The look in his eyes, the crinkle of his eyebrows, the way he constantly clamped and unclamps his fists. Even Hansen probably didn't notice it. Every time they'd have gone through something hard at work, something traumatizing he always looked like this. And suddenly Natasha knew what she was going to say to Clint today.

"Have a seat, Clint." Natasha said, almost completely joking but to her surprise he actually pulled out a chair and sat down. He was trying to look comfortable but Natasha knew the difference.

"Look whatever you're going to say to me today-

"Don't worry. I'll make it quick."

Clint nodded, his face hard. "Good."

"A couple of years ago, there was this little girl SHIELD was keeping an eye on. She was special, could control the heat and the cold. We wanted to help her, to train her. Her mother didn't want that, didn't want her to be a freak or a zoo animal. We didn't see she was any sort of threat so we let her try to live a normal life. But we never stopped watching her. We kept tabs on her all the time. But just for a second when we weren't, she was stolen. Kidnapped. She appeared a couple hours later in the middle of Times Square. That little girl had a bomb connected to her system and note attached to her. It said the bomb could only be disabled if she died. If any of us tried to approach her it would blow, but it would anyone in just a couple minutes."

"If you couldn't approach her, how could you kill her?" Clint asked, trying to find a fault in her story, trying to prove it was made up.

"You and I were up on a roof, we had a good shot and there was a minimal chance of hitting someone else. The clock was ticking; we didn't know what to do. Obviously we didn't want to kill her but if we didn't she'd die anyway and so would hundreds of other people. When we got to a minute I knew we had to take the shot, you did too. I aimed my gun….. but I couldn't pull the trigger. Through my lens I could see her perfectly. I mean obviously, but what I mean is… I could see her. And in her I saw me. I saw me as a little terrified girl, all alone who wanted nothing more than for someone to come along and save her. But no one ever would. And you knew I couldn't do it, Clint. So you did. We were running out of time, had seconds left and you saw sense like I couldn't. But after, it broke you. Clint, you'd wake up at night screaming. I'd come in and you'd swear you were fine. You tried your best to look fine around everyone. Fury begged you to take time off but you never did, said you didn't need it. That you were just fine. The more you said it, the more people believed it. Soon you were fooling everyone. Everyone but me. I knew you were hurting, I knew you were breaking. So I got the girl's mother to come see you. You talked for about an hour. She understood why you did it, she forgave you. She wanted you to be okay again. And slowly, that's what happened. But my point is before you were okay; you looked like you do now. You're putting on a show, you say you're fine. But I know you're hurting. I know you're vulnerable.

When Hansen tortures me, when he puts me in all that pain sometimes you've got to hear my screaming, my pain. The walls are really thin here and you come up here every day now anyway. I know what's hurting you. Your heart. Every time you hear or see me in all that pain you feel your heart break just a little. That little heartache is compassion. And its tearing you apart because you know, somewhere in you, that what they're doing to me is wrong. Not just because some other version of you loved me but because you still have your old compassion. You're sorry for me despite the fact you think you hate me. You know I'm right."

Clint looked at her and kept looking at her for a long time. Natasha just looked back. After a while he got up and left. Clint knew that she was right about one thing. His heart was hurting.

AN: Please review lovelies! As always, thanks for reading.