* TW: Once again, insinuated trauma. *

The music wasn't there, it was noise in a world of memories and movement. Natasha kept her eyes closed as she went through the motions of the dance. It had been a piece from The Firebird if she was recalling correctly. How long had it been since she allowed herself to dance? Had it ever been for enjoyment?

"Again!" Again and again and again and again… would it ever stop?

She wasn't here to take a stroll down memory lane. She was testing a hunch and if she so happened to get some practice in after who knew how long then that was merely an added perk. Nadia hadn't woken them when she left the room and Steve didn't know she had left her room yet. After all the stress and it being in the dead of night, both of them had fallen fast asleep on the couch. The only way Natasha herself knew was because she'd gone to the gym after Steve actually decided to go on that run. He'd probably be back in an hour or so.

"The Firebird." The Russian words came from behind. Nadia. Her voice was tinged almost as if with sleep and not as though she had been hanging from a bar by her ankles for unknown lengths of time.

Opening her eyes, Natasha didn't stop her dance but looked to her daughter and gave her signature smirk, "I thought you spoke English, солнышко?" How would the term of endearment affect her? It was a common enough one in Russia but that didn't mean they taught her that - or even what endearments were.

A slight lift of an eyebrow was all she got, still replying in Russian, "Ballet was taught in Russian and it is merely habit now." So she was taught ballet. Interesting.

"Did they ever give you the reason behind training in ballet?"

"I was trained in several arts of dance. All for the same reason." The girl brought herself up on her toes as if it were the easiest thing in the world and joined the dance. Not even a customary stretch or flex?

"Dance teaches you fluidity of motion, discipline, and can give the air of confidence for any variety of assignments given."

The dance was nearly finished, a far away look stayed in her eyes, "Dance provides structure and helps increase response time to superiors' directives." What a view of dance that she had been given. Not that her's had been much better.

And here was the final part, coming to a graceful halt, Natasha walked towards her water bottle, "A variety of assignments can mean many things, Nadia."

The girl had lowered herself to the wall, looking at her, "What did the Red Room tell you your ballet was for?"

It was to be expected that Hydra had some form of file on her and the girl would know it. But how far did her knowledge go? Natasha joined her, sitting within arm's reach but not touching, "I was told nothing. Simply expected to obey commands and not ask questions. That was my life. No choices and what felt like no escape."

"Is that why you chose to desert? You had no choice?" That intense gaze, eyes as cold as flint, yet there was something genuine to her features.

"Partly." The red head plucked at her sweatpants that had been conveniently liberated from Tony's laundry basket. "Another reason was because I finally had someone - people who could help me escape."

Nadia looked away and leaned her head against the wall, "What sort of choices did you not have?" Who was interrogating who here? In this game, however, it was playing the vulnerability card just right so she would feel safe to share as well. Just make sure you don't give too much.

"Whether I wanted to kill someone, or interrogate them," Natasha paused, giving her voice a catch, "Or sleep with them." Nadia didn't respond, her face revealing nothing - except that small tick. She blinked a little bit longer than usual. If the girl had learned anything in whatever training they had given her it was to have a good poker face at least. Damn. "When did they start you off?" It was a point blank question and not her style but it was a try.


Three shrugged, unaware that she was still answering in Russian, "I've never known how old I am until I asked you. So I don't know when exactly I started. I just know I can't remember much time before it." It was her turn to give back, to look like she trusted her enough to give sensitive information but have the balance of being hesitant as well. "I do remember how it started." She looked away, adding a second to her blink, deepening her breaths. This woman worked with subtlety - not giant, red flags like her father.

The Widow was silent for a moment, waiting for her to speak. When she didn't, all the woman said was, "They raised you on it." The offer to not to continue went unspoken. All Three had to do was respond with a nod. Simple as that. She'd gotten some information from the Widow, had gained more trust, and had yet to be punished for her failure. Best to take the win and run.

And yet Nadia found herself saying, "It was nicer when I was younger." She looked down at her lap, why was she continuing? No need for that much trust to be supposedly given. Well, if she had put her foot in her mouth then she was going to go all out. "There's something satisfying about seeing the people who did those things to you die. My handlers would bring me, I would do my part, they would give the information, and I got to see them finished off." There was no way she was going to look at the Widow now and see that self satisfied smirk of disapproval or fake concern. She let her voice crack, that raw throat sensation when you don't want to cry, "Then they stopped killing them after I hit puberty, stopped letting me have any form of satisfaction. Just seduce, get the information, and get more and more and more whenever they needed me to." The unbidden tear fell down her cheek, she kept her eyes vacant, "They nearly transferred me to that assignment sector but decided they had enough there and kept me where I was."

Silence. No further questioning. No taking advantage of her guard that was seemingly down. Just the deep breaths and rapid heart rate. Three risked a glance at her. There was no pity, or fake concern, or even disgust. Just that sad look that said the thousand words that wouldn't come out and the only two that mattered. I understand.

The fake desire to cry was quickly becoming alarmingly real. Not just a tear slipping out for a waterworks show either. That would be too vulnerable. Too uncontrolled. She had done her job. Losing herself was not an option. She stood.

--

"Taking Australia is an obvious tactic, easy to defend, and…"

"North America is a viable option too! Then you have more points to attack than just Asia."

"Can we all just agree nobody ever goes for Asia first?"

The words came filtering in through the common room as Steve walked into the hallway from the elevator, drenched in sweat and his mind no more relieved than if he hadn't gone on the run. Why had she reacted like that? Did she really think he would - he had to say something to her. To apologize. To make it very, very clear he'd never do anything like that and would kill anyone who would do that to her.

Coming into the room, he was met with the sight of his daughter smiling, wedged between Clint and Natasha on the couch with Wanda and Sam on the chairs across the coffee table. Between them was the game Risk, only a few pieces set out on the board.

"Oh hey, Cap!" Sam waved him over, "Heard you went on a run or something like that."

"Wilson," Steve nodded with a smile to the man, but it was Nadia he was trying to get a look at. Her smile faded for a moment before returning as though it had never left. Her shoulders had tensed, she wouldn't look at him. How could he have been so stupid?

"You going to join in?" Sam gestured to the table as his phone began to ring, with a frown he picked it up, "Grab this for me, please, I'll be right back if I can." With a wave towards Nadia, he answered the phone and left.

Steve lowered himself to where Sam had been, "Barton, good to see you. How long will you be around?"

Clint leaned back, his face out of Nadia's view, even as his voice was relaxed his eyes said another story, "Ah, ya know how it is at the apartment. Gets stuffy after a bit. My roommate is out of town visiting family so I figured I might as well set up shop here for a bit."

While it was understandable to want to keep his family as deep undercover as possible, Steve wasn't exactly sure what keeping it from Nadia would do. But to each their own.

--

Three slowly felt the cold hand of control slip back into place as she focused on the mission at hand. What was wrong with her? The smiling, the laugh, everything had felt outside of intentional. It was simply happening. The warmth in her chest, the facial expressions that she'd give to seem as though she were relaxed, the thoughts of maybe just maybe… none of it had been intentional. As if it were herself and not a mask. There was something very wrong. But what was it? What had changed?

The Captain had lowered himself into the cushioned chair across from her. Even if she hadn't been able to smell it, she could see the guilt that was writhing within him and swimming in his eyes. Guilt over what he was going to do? Over the punishment she was bound to receive at his hands? Too many times she had seen that look on the people who decided she had done wrong.

Humans were absolutely disgusting.

Her mother hadn't acted as though she were to reprimand her. Then again, it wasn't her desires Nadia had failed to give her.

"Do you mind if I play, Nadia?" The Captain's eyes had so much emotion in them he would probably burst if she said no.

"If you would like to play, sir." Three gave a submissive nod, not looking at him, pretending to try hiding how tense she had gone. Her mother's core tightened and Clint turned to look at the woman past Nadia's body. Worried and confused respectively.

The Captain smiled, an attempt at a cocky bravado, "Alright then, you all better prepare to lose."

"Not if I stop you this time, Rogers." Clint sat forward, placing one of his men on a spot in North America. "I have most of the US this round."

Three looked up at him, just slow enough to show hesitation, "Do you, Captain America, really go after North America first?"

Steve colored a bit as his supposed confident smile turned more genuine, "Yes, ma'am."

A/N ~ As there has been a recent death with a family friend, there may be a delay as my inspiration went out the door for a while. I'll do my best but I'm rather behind.