Oh hi... ngl I was so traumatised after endgame I couldn't bear to look at anything black widow related but I realised I wanted to do this story justice so I wrote this longish para over the span of like 3 months... yep another filler paragraph where nothing really happens but it'll get there again I promise!

Enjoy!

Parker

-

The fire burnt surrounded her, encompassing her in a never ending state of panic as it crawled closer and closer. The smouldering black was crawling into her nose, infecting her lungs making it harder and harder to breathe. In the panic she kept spinning and spinning, looking for an exit, searching for way to get out however all she saw were flashes of red, but not red like fire, hair colour red. Was that her? Was that a child? Was it her as a child? The smoke kept creeping, crawling through her skin, burning her lungs but leaving nothing but red. Red. Insufferable amounts of smoke were rising now, as she crept closer to the floor she saw it again. The flashes seemed to be running around, almost circling her, closing in bit by bit. She felt the smoke, the fire coursing through her veins, burning her essence away, her soul, her conscience until finally her body was a pile of ash blowing in the smoke. The unforgiving smoke.

As Natasha woke the first thing she registered was the smell. It was something so familiar yet so unnerving that it made her want to throw up right then and there. While still not opening her eyes she attempted to feign sleep and feel her surroundings. Just from the sense of touch she could tell that her arms were behind her back and wrapped with what she thinks was barbed wire due to the small stabbing pains she was feeling at the slightest movement of her hands. The same could be said about her ankles too. From what she could hear, there was no movement in the room she was in, no breathing except for her own so she could deduce that she was alone. Opening her eyes left her with little to work with, with no windows and just some light peeking through the door Natasha was left to sit in darkness waiting for her eyes to adjust to her surroundings. The grogginess of the drug which she was injected with still lagging on her brain making her decision making slow leaving her with no plan and no escape route. Just her and her mind and the smell of burning and blood.

As she sat their contemplating her plans a smooth Russian voice rang through the room, desolating her every fear and cell.

'Hello Natalia.'

….

'What do you mean she's gone off the grid?'

Being on a jet with 3 other sleeping avengers made it difficult for Steve to raise his voice, how he wished he was joining them in the land of sleep but the anxiety which wracked his brain was making him restless.

'What I mean spangled pants, is that the tracker we hid in reds bag has gone somewhere that is being intercepted by another server and I cant exactly track it can I?'

Whilst saying his snarky remarks Steve could feel eat worry which was evidently rolling off his voice making his thinking unclear.

'You hid a tracker in Nat's bag? What if someone finds it? How could you be so careless Tony?'

'Relax cap it's one I've been working on, something so small not even you could see it.' A smirk rolled of his features, like a child proud of a drawing he'd made. However the smirk lasted no longer than a minute. 'Butttt' he dragged out whilst rubbing his chin. 'Im worried now, it takes a lot to take out stark technology so I'm concerned that not only does this place were Natasha is have that technology, but the fact that Nat is lost in the middle of it.'

The reality of his seriousness sank in through the silence of the plane, only the constant humming of the engines in the back of their thoughts.

'Come on Tony. Your Iron Man! The smartest person I know so come on! Think of something!'

The desperation was leaking of Steves eyes, and at the moment when Tony looked at Steve he realised how much Steve cared for Natasha. At a closer he definitely looked terrible. The cream leather seats off the jet outlined the pale parlour of his skin, bringing out the dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Or washed. His once sandy golden hair was ruffled and missing its once ever present shine. It was obvious how much he was thinking about Natasha, it was obvious how much he just loved her.

He couldn't just let Steve down. Not when they were so close to keeping her safe. Not now. Tony wracked his brain. What could he do? What could he do? Think, think think! After what seemed like eternity a lightbulb set off in his mind.

'If I track the last location which the tracker was in a use that to ping it off the place where a new signal would be intercepted we could find the location and scope afterwards!'

With the speed this came out of his mouth and the words used Steve looked dumb founded but it was overshadowed with a spark of hope that hit his eyes.

'So just to check? You can do it?'

'Lets go get your girl lover boy.'

…..

'Hello Natalia.'

'Headmistress?'

The headmistress' hair had gone grey at its roots however it still maintained its red dye at its end, and her face had aged significantly however her features were the same, same old eyebrow scar, same old red lipstick. The sight just bought back so many different memories, it was quite overwhelming, especially since she would have thought the headmistress to be dead by now, especially since she assumed the headmistress to be dead. The funniest thing that stuck in her head was how much the headmistress reminded her of that red haired character from the prison tv show she watched on Tony's Netflix. What was it called again? Orange is black or something like that, she really liked that show and now all she could think about was the fact that she wanted to home to the avengers tower and snuggle up with Steve and a shit Netflix series.

'Natalia, your manners are disappointing me, I thought I taught you better?'

'Well, I guess I've had time to grow and mature on my own. I must say though after all these years… you still look old.' She knew the snarky comment was worthy of a slap so did nothing but flinch when the long red fingernails grazed her cheek, which she assumed was leaving some lovely red marks. Keeping calm and cool was the one thing Natasha one she had to do, not only to keep herself sane but to ensure that the headmistress felt uncomfortable as possible. It was a simple strategy, one which she didn't think would work but was her only plan at the moment as her mind was still foggy from the drug shed been injected with.

'Oh Natalia, I do wish you would respect you elders, it has been so many years since we've seen each other, don't you have a nice thing to say about me?'

'Let me see.. hmmm… no, I don't think I do.'

Natasha braced herself for another slap but to her surprise, the headmistress only stood there smiling.

'Lets cut to the chase my sweet Natalia, I want you to know why you're here, you see you didn't destroy the red room like you thought you did, there were survivors… what id call your brothers and sisters if I knew you wouldn't object. Take a walk with me?.'

'About that?' Natasha comically looked at her barbed wire bindings.

'Ahh yes, Alexi!' She called.

Just then a rather large, familiar looking, man walked in the room with what Natasha suspected to be as wire cutters, his beard was unkempt as was his grey hair but Natasha knew that face. He cut the wire, letting the pain fall off Nat's wrists in an instant but he didn't leave, just stood by the headmistress with a foreboding look on his face.

'Don't you remember him Natalia? Alexi was the one who trained you all those years ago, oh how I am surprised you forgot about this. Please follow, he's only here for protection should you attempt to run away or try kill us all again.'

Once again the monotone voice was internally freaking Natasha out but she did her best to hide it, following her with a gentle step to try and shadow the fact that she was limping due to the fact that small parts of the barbed wire were still embedded in her ankle. As she walked the grey, dark dingy corridoors her thoughts were swimming round her head. So many questions however one stood out in the darks of her mind.

'How many?'

'Speak up Natalia, mumbling doesn't suite you.'

'How. Many. Survived?'

'Oh about 27. Considering the other 100s you killed I can say that you got off likely.'

Natasha's heart stopped, 27 still alive. 27 ready to kill her at any given moment and why shouldn't they. 27.