Natasha sat in the copilot seat of the quinjet staring ahead silently as Clint flew at high speed towards the safehouse. He looked over at her and took in her stony expression.

"Nat, it's going to be ok."

"How can you say that?! I am bringing danger to everyone I care about!"

"We have talked about this Nat. We knew this might happen and we planned for it. Laura and the kids could stay holed up in that panic room for months if they had to. You put the alert out on Friday, you're the reason we got the information in time."

"If anything happened to those kids.. Clint I would just-"

"I know. But they're safe."

Natasha was silent for a while, staring out the window, lost in her own thoughts. "I can't believe she's still alive."

Clint pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded, "I thought for sure they would kill her for letting you escape." Natasha massaged her forehead. "Clint, I don't know if I can face her."

He was silent for a moment before answering, "You have to."

"I'm afraid Clint."

"I know will figure this out."

Natasha stared at her hands, remembering…

Thirteen year old Natalia Romanoff sat ramrod straight, her hands folded on her desk in silence, waiting with her classmates for the teacher to arrive and begin their lesson. No one dared to speak, the rules of the Red Room were sternly enforced. The punishment wasn't worth the risk. The sharp clicks of a woman's footsteps sounded in the hallway outside the room, and Natalia repressed a shudder of dread. Darya Sokolov was every Red Room Trainee's worst nightmare. Ruthless, merciless, and unrelenting, she pressed each of them to their limits, and often beyond. She had taken special notice of Natalia, acting as her personal mentor, something that Natalia resented immensely. It meant she was pushed harder than the other girls, given more difficult drills and was punished more often for her failures. The backs of her legs were red with welts from where Sokolov had struck them with her riding crop earlier that morning; her kicks had not been high enough for Darya's liking.

As Sokolov stalked her way to the front of the room, Natalia's warning bells went off. Her teacher looked furious, her lips pressed into a thin line. Every other time she had seen that look, one of them had been beaten. Natalia stole a quick glance at the girl sitting next to her, Sasha. Her eyes were wide with fright, and she glanced at Natalia fearfully. Natalia shook her head slightly, warning the girl to watch her expressions. Sasha's face went blank, and they both looked down at their notebooks, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. The sound of a teaching pointer being whipped across the chalkboard made Natalia jump. She glanced up.

"As your graduation ceremony comes closer, it is imperative that you are prepared to be sent undercover on missions. Complete control of yourself, your emotions, and how other people see you is imperative. Is that understood?"

As one the class answered, "Yes Madame Sokolov."

Darya Sokolov gestured to the board where a word was written out in chalk, "Truth."

"Who can tell me what this means?" She gazed around, but no one dared to raise their hand. "No one knows? What is truth?" Her sharp green eyes flickered to Natalia, who kept her gaze resolutely down.

Natalia listened as the heel clicks got louder and louder, then slowed right in front of her desk. She shivered.

"Natalia. You will answer this question." Natalia stood and looked at the word on the board and then back at her instructor.

"It means nothing. There is no truth except the one you create." Darya's eyes narrowed as she looked at Natalia. Natalia lifted her chin, unwilling to let Sokolov get the best of her in front of her peers.

"Tell me Ms. Romanoff, when is it acceptable to be afraid?"

"Never," came the often rehearsed reply.

"And when is it acceptable to appear afraid?"

"When it benefits your mission."

Sokolov bent down so she was looking Natalia directly in the face, "And are you afraid of me?"

Natalia's temper flared at the unfairness of the question. If she said yes, she would be breaking the rules by admitting fear, but if she said no, Darya would be certain to rise to the challenge. She looked into Darya's eyes, as green as a snake, and realized she would need to be as cunning as her teacher if she was going to survive.

"I recognize your superiority Madame, and do not take for granted your strengths," Natalia allowed a small smile to play over her lips, "But a Black Widow is not capable of fear."

Madame Sokolov regarded her for a moment, a feral smile growing gradually across her face. Natalia met her gaze steadily, using all her willpower to do so.

"A well crafted reply," said Sokolov. Suddenly she swung out at Natalia and backhanded her forcefully. Natalia fell across Sasha's desk. Sokolov grasped her face painfully, forcing her to look at her and she whispered, "But you are not a Black Widow yet."

Natalia's temper surged inside her, and she bared her teeth, humiliated in front of her classmates, determined to regain some of her dignity even if it meant she would be beaten for it. She kicked out at her teacher, trying to remove her but her hands simply slipped from Natalia's face to her throat. She gasped, watching in slow motion as Sokolov's fist drew back for a strike. Sasha leapt to her feet and threw herself over her friend, "No!"

Sokolov paused, considering Sasha incredulously. Darya looked at Natalia, still struggling weakly against the vice-like grip of her teacher, "You seem to have a talent for drawing others to you Natalia. How intriguing. And how long have you been friends?" Darya looked to Sasha for the answer, Shasha's eyes flickering nervously from Darya to Natalia, who was shaking her head no. Natalia could see the trap as it was being set.

"We've grown up together Madame. We can't help but be friends." Madame Sokolov released Natalia, who coughed and picked herself up off the desk. Sasha breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Natalia, her eyes asking if she was alright. Natalia met her gaze with dread, "You're a fool Sasha," she whispered, her voice laced with pain. Sasha only had a moment to be confused. Swiftly two Black Widow Graduates stole behind her and dragged her screaming out of the room. Natalia stiffened at the sound, but the strength of her own self preservation kept her rooted to the floor. As the sound faded away Darya put her hands on Natalia's shoulders and turned her slowly so she was face to face with her. Sokolov addressed the class, "Let this be a lesson to you all. You are to be Black Widows, and each of you already is affected by the Widow's Curse. Do not become attached to any one place, thing, or person. You will not keep them for long." Darya looked down at Natalia's white face, "Natalia, tell the class to whom you belong."

Natalia swallowed hard, pulling the words from memory "I belong to no one and nothing but my mother Russia."

Kneeling down before her, Sokolov dropped her voice so only the two of them could hear, "A word of advice my fierce Natalia. There is no pain quite like the pain of the heart. You must protect yourself, close your heart and become an unassailable fortress. We teach you these lessons to protect you." Natalia looked into her eyes, taken in by her words.

"What will happen to Sasha?" Natalia's voice was soft.

"She will die."

Natalia's head snapped up, her eyes wide. She choked on her words, "Because she thought we were friends?"

"No my dear, she will die because you allowed her to believe it."

Natasha clenched and unclenched her fist as she remembered. Darya Sokolov had been right about one thing, the Widow's curse affected them all. As they got closer to graduation, her class had shrunk in size as those deemed unfit were removed from the program, never to be seen again. There was no use in getting close with any of them, and Natalia had kept to herself, for her own protection and for the protection of the young women around her. She had been determined not to be removed. It had been Sokolov more than anyone who had motivated her to become the fighter she was. Brainwashing, indoctrination, everything Sokolov had said was in an effort to create a weapon out of her. She still struggled to pull apart what was true and what was the Red Room. She had come so far since then. She shuddered, the Widow's Curse haunted her still. Natasha shifted in her chair, restless. She looked over at Clint, "Can't you fly this any faster?"

"They're my kids Nat, I'm going as fast as I can."

She crossed her arms over her chest, her face creased with worry. If Sokolov really was hunting her, it wouldn't matter whose children they were. Natasha's love alone was enough to condemn them.