"Why do you hurt yourself?" Clint started, as she took a seat on the couch, resigning her power to be level with the men of the room.

"Red Room punishment for mistakes, pretty easy to keep up. Nobody else around here was going to do it."

The men were stunned into silence for a few moments. They had, of course, wanted answers, but they did not anticipate how blunt she was being toward them, nor the answers they were going to receive.

"Do you think that we should be beating you when you make mistakes?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"How else will I learn?"

"By redirection and the help of the team, my god Tash!" Clint was already horrified and Natasha would have smirked if she wasn't still terrified of losing her position on the team. They didn't want these answers any more than she wanted to give them.

"Did they beat you?"

"Not very often, it would have hurt our performance."

"How often is 'not very often?'"

"It was hard to keep track of time. Maybe once or twice a week?"

"When did they start cutting you as punishment?"

"Extraction. I screamed for my parents."

"When did you start cutting?"

She paused, knowing that her answer would likely hurt her archer's feelings more than anyone else in the room.

"Natasha."

"On the helicarrier on the way to SHIELD."

His face instantly fell at her words and she forced herself to look away. She had come with him willingly, but planned to kill herself that night and could not wait that long to punish herself. A part of her had felt relief that she was out of the Red Room. When he found her, her tights were torn and her dress was just a shred hanging off her body, one broken, bloodied heel in her left hand and a gun in her right. She was sure he had guessed what happened, but he had never mentioned it to her again and she never explained. So, when she asked to used the restroom on the plane, he hadn't thought much of it, except that it was weird how she took her broken shoe with her. The whole ordeal included eleven mistakes in all, twelve when she decided to go with him and the broken edge of her heel created her first twelve jagged lines that the Red Room hadn't required. They'd be proud if they recaptured her, she thought, allowing an odd calm to wash over her.

"Natasha," Steve's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Clint was still looking sadly at her.

"I'm sorry, what was the question?"

"Why don't you eat?"

"I'm more useful to the team if I'm small and well-trained. Can't give you more reasons to kick me off."

"How did they torture you?"

"Any way you can think of. To help us practice for being kidnapped."

"What about the other girls? Where are they?"

"Dead. There can only be one best."

"And you're it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Most kills, most successful missions, least mistakes."

"And the… sex." Clint stammered the words. "You aren't a virgin?"

"Of course not, that's the best way to get information from men." She gritted her teeth and deadened her expression, hoping not to give way to the truth behind the 'sex' she'd had.

"How many?"

"I don't know," it was the most truthful statement she had made all day. How many times had she been woken in the middle of the night to a man entering her while she was handcuffed to her bed? How many times had she been told through her comms to fuck a mark or be killed herself? How many times had she been forced to act weak and let marks fuck her to get the information they needed? How many times had the fucked her while cutting her to ribbons to prove that sex was a weapon, not a pleasurable experience? How could she forget the times she'd nearly died from the punishments she received when her body exploded with pleasure out of instinct before she could prevent it?

"Slut," Tony muttered under his breath. It stung, but she knew she deserved it and so much worse. "I'm getting the blades out of your room while you all finish… this. Where are they?"

"Fake bottom of the nightstand. Bottom of the hamper. Inside the shampoo bottle."

"Jesus," Clint let his head fall into his hands.

"Are we done here?"

"Just one more question," Steve said slowly. "Do you think we should keep you on the team?"

"No." She said simply, walking out of the room with her head down.

"We'll call you back down when we've had a chance to decide what to do."