The infiltration of Black Ops headquarters goes about how Clint and Natasha were imagining it would. Jennifer in her she-hulk form has destroyed half the building in a pent up rage and to defend Steve Rogers at her side.
Natasha runs down the hall, spotting her broken and exhausted director in his 'prison cell.' Nick Fury looks up with a grin when she reaches a hand through the cell and onto his, calling for him.
"What took you so long, Romanoff?" He asks with a bit of snark.
She lifts a key in her blood stained fingers and smirks through her broken stare.
He narrows his focus, "I heard the noise."
She mumbles and unlocks the cell, "Walters can't exactly keep quiet."
Clint hurries the twosome along, leading them back through the hall and defends his friends. Natasha keeps her hands on Fury's arm, worried about his balance as they run back out. The three meet in a collision, Steve covered in dirt and she hulk rolling her wrist.
Fury waves his forefinger toward the big green, "I told you I'd draft you one day."
She rolls her eyes, "I'm here as an independent contractor trying not to murder you all for losing my cousin. All of it is in writing back in headquarters, it's a five page document outlining the terms of this agreement signed by both Hill and I."
Clint pauses and nods up the way toward a dark finger dressed in black, "And she's here."
Natasha mumbles and reaches to pull a baton from off her back, "I've got this."
"Romanoff! It's not worth it," Fury scolds.
Steve pants, gradually trying leading the group out with a finger on his com, "Let's go. We can make it without a fight."
Natasha focuses on her target, "I have to end this now or she follows us to Izabella."
Clint tries to reach for her, "Nat, come on-."
"Go Barton!" She yells and charges forward to face her enemy head on.
It's a cold hearted fight that begins between Natasha and her figure dressed in black. On an average day Romanoff would have preferred a diplomatic solution, needing Steve to lead the team out rather than confronting this dark leader. Her accent is thick though she chooses English;
"Alexei is back."
Natasha laughs, "…you're going to have to try harder than that to throw me off."
The push and pull, leaving Natasha with a black eye and her opponent with a bleeding lip. The punches come in hard, a pistol firing and a baton clashing.
The Black Widow flips her weapon and prepares for round two, taking space to breathe.
The woman lifts her shoulders in a large shrug, taking out her own white and electrocuting batons, "You know, Natalia. You can't win. There are at least three teams of us who want that girl. You can't beat us all."
She shakes her head over an aching memory, "I killed everyone else in my program before I was 12. Whoever I didn't kill I buried. I've murdered at least 50 for you. I think you underestimate my team and I."
The woman circles, "See I, heard, that you've gone soft. It's this team of yours. Ivan tells me they're your new weakness."
She shakes her head with a smirk and pins her enemy in a rapid maneuver. Overpowering her friend turned enemy with ease, she mumbles, "You still don't know me. I make my own choices now."
"Even if you kill me here, in my own home, Ivan will always be a step ahead of you."
"That doesn't matter."
Her ex mentor laughs, her hands weakly holding Natashas wrist, "It does. You kill me, and Petrovich heads up our operations. Which means, you have no choice but to take me in and arrest me. , Unless of course, you want your precious 'Papa' to become SHIELD's new target."
"You're lying."
"Fury didn't tell you, did he. With our mission, as you might remember, being to wipe out all remnants of any and all empowered well unfortunately puts you up against, well. Your dad. What an awkward position. Guess you have to bring me in-."
Natasha clenches her jaw and drives her opponent through with a knife at her thigh. With tears in her eyes she shakes her head, "I don't believe you. Not anymore. The team you've chosen to side with took years of my life- made me do things I regret. Turned me and Alexei into weapons. Made me hurt, and kill, people who were just like me."
"Oh Natalia,' the woman struggles to speak with the knife in her heart, 'Their blood is on your hands."
Natasha nods, "Maybe…but that ends here. With you. And this is for what you did to Alexei. For turning him into a monster."
"He was always a monster."
The Black Widow abandons all mercy and twists her knife in further, rotating and pulling out sharply. Natasha throws her enemy down with her stomach churning.
It's a vicious kill, one she hasn't had the stomach for since General Ross. She throws her knife onto the ground.
Absent-mindedly she makes her way to the jet. She's unsure how she's made it onboard but she has. And all eyes are on her in her blood stained uniform, face and hands.
With tears in her eyes she mumbles, "Let's go."
Rogers tries to reach her with a soft voice, "Natasha? What happened?"
She shouts, "I said 'go'!"
Steve slips into the passenger seat opposite Clint who leads his team over the intercom to follow him out.
Natasha makes her way to the back of the jet and locks herself in the bathroom. She forces herself to look into the mirror, hating the person staring back at her. Her cheeks are stained red, eyes bloodshot from exhaustion. She runs the water and struggles to remove her gloves. She fights with them aggressively, clenching a fist and abruptly leaves four consistent punches into the wall beside her.
Her tears follow, so she forces herself to cry quietly. Natasha stands against the wall as the jet makes its gentle turns. She throws her head back.
Leaving the woman alive puts Izabella in danger, potentially every meta child she's working hard to help. She justifies her action, silently hoping she will never have to do the same to Ivan, her father, the man that has raised her, should he ever cross a line.
A knock on the door forces her to brush off the tears, running her hands down the sides of her uniform.
She breathes and splashes her face with water, "I'm coming."
Natasha opens the door with the top of her uniform rolled down in a tank top. Somehow seeing Fury threatens to resume her tears. He is different with her, soft and gentle when he whispers, "You're not okay."
She shakes her head and leans against the doorframe. For anyone else she would be aggressive, hide her thoughts and tell them off. Fury is different.
"No. Because you didn't tell me Ivan was second in command for Black Ops. So I've been defending a genuine criminal with a past worse than I could've imagined. And I hate myself for it. This also puts me in a dangerous place- you know that."
"Natasha."
"I don't want to talk."
"You need to. We need to," Nick wraps a weaker arm around hers and urges her to sit beside him.
She lowers her head and breaks after a brief struggle. There is no point when this man knows her better than anyone else outside of Clint.
She fumbles for her words, "I don't know how to feel. So it's better not to."
"That man. Ivan Petrovich. Is not your father. He doesn't treat you with the respect you deserve. You know what unconditional love looks like but not because of him."
She hugs her elbow, "I can't take him out. You're going to need to find someone else to do that because there's enough blood on my hands."
"If we need to, I will not send you. I promise. I promise that nothing will touch Ivan unless absolutely necessary. I would rather bring him in alive and get to the root of it and end this. For good. You deserve peace. You deserve to put this part of your life behind you. Can we agree on that?"
She swallows and rolls her tongue over her cheek and holds her torso uncomfortably, "That, doesn't justify what I just did."
"You are not at fault when someone else attacks first. But you have got to take back control. You know who you want to be."
Natasha inhales, raising her volume, "You knew what was going to happen and you didn't stop me."
He nods, his eyes somehow hurting her soul.
"I tried. I thought you would stop yourself,' he stands with a pointed finger, 'We'll talk about the details of whatever went down in there later. Wash your face and come down to my office once we land. After you report to-."
Medical.
She glares, knowing what he's about to say. No one will be touching the gashes on her back if she has any say about it and Fury knows this is true.
He returns to the main area to strap in for landing. Natasha hides her face in her hands and somehow, the tears start to silently flow.
Her armor is breaking, crumbling in the back of the jet. Every whisper hurts. Fury's words have somehow gotten further than anyone else has and he hasn't said much.
Natasha knows deep down who she wants to be; the person Fury sees. Who Clint, Bruce, and Steve believe she is. This year, these past few months with no one to trust but herself have been hard. She can cover for a mission. She can pretend for a job. She can put on whatever face she wants in front of her team, even in front of her husband. But raw and emotional in her current state, she hates what she sees; a vengeful villain in a feud with the world who has done her wrong.
Alone with no one but herself and Fury's words she questions her identity. Is this really the heroine those around her believe she is? Violet, Riley, Linda, the press, the citizens of New York. Or is she the enemy that being a Black Widow, being with Black Ops, that her countless enemies have made her and her kind out to be…
If the latter is true, she potentially has over thirty children waiting for her upon the jet's arrival who deserve some sort of answer. Some sort of resolution to their current predicament. Are they too the enemy in some way? Destined for nothing but a future full of vengeance and a bloodthirsty hunger for those who have done them wrong to face some sort of dark justice.
She is better than this. She takes an inhale, barely aware of Clint Barton's sudden arrival at her side as he holds her shoulder with Steve and Fury taking over the piloting.
Natasha mumbles. She'd know his cologne, the scent of his metal bow on his fingertips as he grips her shoulder, "I'm not that strong."
He grins, a thumb brushing her bare shoulder, "You are."
She scoffs and drops her head with a confession she's embarrassed to admit, "I miss…Bruce."
"I know you do."
Natasha runs a hand through her hair. Her fingertips still smell like blood, "I wish I could restart today."
"Nat? You're not a villain here. You're different, you have morals. That's what I saw when I recruited you. When I dragged your sorry ass into SHIELD headquarters for the first time, sat you in front of Fury."
She recalls the memory, "I remember…"
"I saw a fire in you. Someone who wanted to do good despite every odd pinned up against her. And I still see that. I know being in Russia sucks and it's digging up old shit but I still think you're a good person. Forgive yourself and move on."
Natasha nods, accepting Barton's words. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and gives her a hug from the side.
Natasha doesn't respond, still in a fog. She shuts her eyes and focuses on nothing- trying to find her center as she breathes.