A/N: I have the best reviewers… You deserve hugs and cookies and lovely things, each and every one of you, especially after all the lovely, supportive things you all said after last chapter!

All of your support really meant a lot to me after the indecision and unease that came along with the content of last chapter. I can't help but say it again, but it really means a lot to me to hear that it didn't come across as trivializing or disrespectful, which was my worst fear when writing about such a sensitive subject. So thank you all again!

Chapter 15

Chernivtsi, Ukraine

Spring 2015

Natasha's patience was beginning to wear thin as Steve continued to insist she should stay behind on the Quinjet, something she was not at all interested in doing. It wasn't like it was bound to be a particularly dangerous mission anyway. It was just grabbing a guy who sat in front of computers all day and questioning him. If anything, she should be a crucial part of the plan given that she was the expert in interrogation and hacking. She wasn't even all that badly hurt, not really. It was just a graze, and the duration of the flight and the first aid she'd gotten had gone a long way to get her back into passible fighting-form again. But if Steve was one thing, it was protective of those under his command and equally protective of his friends, no matter how capable he knew them to be…and Natasha was both. She had to fight from rolling her eyes, nearly having to force herself to keep listening to him.

She glanced over to where Nadine was standing, deceptively casual in her stance as she stood near the bulkhead not far from Natasha and Steve. The blonde assassin's face was blank and calm. Not unexpected really, given the training Natasha intimately knew the other woman had received.

Natasha still couldn't quite believe Nadine was standing only a few feet from her. She was one person the redhead had never expected to see again. Sure, she'd hoped against hope that Nadine—Nadya then—hadn't died, but it had been simply too unlikely to believe otherwise. Graduation was something that was celebrated, Natasha having already known another girl who'd managed to survive training in the Red Room by the time Nadya had disappeared. So it hadn't been that. And there had never been any indication that the blonde recruit had deserted, much less eluded anyone sent after her.

But neither had there been a confirmation nor even specific mention of her death at the compound. They had just never spoken of her again. That in itself had seemed confirmation enough that Nadya was dead. A lack of any acknowledgement from Madame B had conveyed a certain knowledge and subsequent lack of concern on her part. As such, Natasha, like just about every other girl there, had interpreted their Trainer's ambivalence as closure. After all, it was how the deaths of the other two girls who had succumbed to the Treatments had been handled. So they all had naturally assumed the older girl had died, likely because of the Treatments, and that was that.

Death was a regular occurrence in the Red Room and it was rarely spoken of as it was commonly encountered, just as one rarely spoke of the need to breathe or the need to sleep. Girls were almost never mentioned again after failing during training, almost as though their deaths erased them, making it so they never existed. And in a way, it was like they never had.

So when Nadya was never mentioned again following her disappearance, it was a logical conclusion to draw; she was dead, so there had been no point in talking about her anymore. But it had never quite sat right with Natasha to believe that Nadya had simply died, though she'd later pegged that to denial that her almost-sister was gone. Natasha had been certain there was something going on with her in those last few days before Nadya's disappearance. But then she'd just been gone, and Natasha had been swept up in the challenge to survive and succeed in the Red Room, forcing herself not to think about Nadya's presumed death or how much she missed the older girl.

She hadn't even been able to let herself grieve.

Looking back now, Natasha realized that the trainers had been a little too careful not to mention the older girl. She felt foolish now, having not recognized that the trainers had been keeping something from them; it was what she'd been trained to do and she had missed the signs. Natasha's chest tightened as she glanced surreptitiously at her oldest friend again.

They'd been like sisters. When Nadine had been Nadya she had looked out for Natasha in a place where they were all encouraged to do no such thing. The older girl had braided Natasha's hair and told her stories when she'd been young and new from the Nursery. She'd given her encouragement and advice on how to survive in the severe and often fatal training program they'd both been thrown into when they were both little more than babies. She'd teased her as only an older sister might, tossing out derisive comments with no bite and expecting, even relishing in, equally barbed but toothless retorts in return. They'd giggled together, talked about boys from the American magazines they'd been given to study. She'd snuck her a clementine or some other forbidden treat on her birthday every year. Even when she'd been in incredible discomfort and pain from the Treatments those last few months—she'd never been able to hide it from Natasha completely—Nadya had always managed pretend otherwise, especially if Natasha needed her to.

And, as was always the case, Natasha hadn't realized just how much Nadya had meant to her, how vital she'd been to letting Natasha keep a hold of even a scrap of her childhood even in that place until she was gone. Their relationship had kept her from losing herself completely, kept that small spark of goodness alive through her early training when it might otherwise have been crushed out of her, letting her hold onto it long after Nadya had disappeared from her life. It was that small remnant of her humanity lingering beneath her almost peerless skills as a spy and assassin that had eventually caught Clint Barton's attention and made him reconsider his orders to eliminate her.

It was a big part of why she was fighting Steve so hard on this. She wanted to help her friend, and yes, she was still determined to think of Nadine as her friend. Because when someone threatened her friends, Natasha was a force to be reckoned with. And Nadine was certainly being threatened. She didn't know if the blonde woman realized just how transparent it had been to the redhead, but Natasha had caught a glimpse of fear and desperation in her eyes and heard it in her voice when it had come out that someone was blackmailing her, and it had surfaced again when Nadine had finally lowered her stolen guns moments later.

So yes, she wanted to be there to help put an end to whoever was threatening whatever happiness her friend, her sister, had managed to find in her life. Natasha knew it wasn't an easy ideal to find, not for people with pasts like theirs.

"Uh, Cap?" Natasha and Steve both fell silent, their hissing argument abruptly losing steam as Clint's voice sounded in their earpieces. "We have movement in the building, inside our target's apartment, and I don't think he's the one doing the moving." Steve and Natasha exchanged a concerned look, any lingering trace of their argument fading away.

"Do you have a visual? What are we looking at," Steve asked succinctly, ever the soldier, as Natasha settled in front of the console, urging J.A.R.V.I.S. to pull up his readings on the building in an attempt to get a closer look at the new player's whereabouts.

"No. Just movement. They're pretty good at keeping me from getting a good eyeline. Looks like they're entering Azarov's wor—shit!" Natasha and Steve exchanged startled looks at Clint's sudden outburst.

"Clint? What's going on," Natasha insisted, her voice sharp as she forced herself not to sound anxious, "What's happening?" Over the comm, they heard Clint groan with aggravation.

"It's Ryker. She gave you guys the slip." The two Avengers lingering in the Quinjet spun to where Nadine had been standing several minutes before.

She definitely wasn't leaning against the bulkhead anymore.

Steve actually swore.

"I'm going in. Now," he bit out with irritation, snatching his shield from his back. As Natasha went to follow, however, he paused long enough to shoot her a firm glare. But Natasha was objecting before he could even get a word out.

"Nuh-uh. I'm coming too, Steve, and we don't have time to debate this," and she was pushing past him. She heard his heavy sigh as she strode down the ramp, unable to withhold her smirk. It only took a couple long strides for him to catch up and another to pass her, keeping her firmly behind him. Natasha nearly rolled her eyes with fond exasperation at his unconscious display of chivalry.

It took them longer than they would have liked to reach Azarov's apartment, hampered as they were by Natasha's less than prime condition, but soon enough they were approaching the right apartment, their pace quickening at a sudden shrieking outburst from behind the door of their destination.

"She's got him out of the workroom into the main living space. Something's going down; she's not paying any attention to cover anymore, guys." Setting his jaw at Clint's update over the comm, Steve burst forward, his shield ready to serve as a battering ram.

And he used it to great effect.

The door shattered under the force of his weight and momentum, and in an instant Steve and Natasha were barrelling into the apartment.

Immediately Natasha's eyes zeroed in on the dark stain beginning to seep across Azarov's chest even as her ears registered the distinctive sound of a high-calibre bullet bursting through the window. Nadine didn't even flinch, her hands tightening on Azarov's shirt as her eyes widened with shock and dismay.

Without even a moment's hesitation, Steve was leaping forward, his shield just barely deflecting a second bullet in time as he reached Nadine's side. Nadine didn't even look up, her face pale as her grey eyes were still locked, unseeing, on Azarov's now-slack face.

"Nadine?" The sound of Natasha's voice was enough to snap the blonde assassin from wherever her thoughts had retreated to, dropping Azarov's body with a sharp jerk.

"I've got eyes on the shooter; he's running. I'm in pursuit," came Clint's voice through the earpieces. Next to Nadine, Steve straightened, peering over his shoulder to the pair of bullet holes in Azarov's window as he replaced his shield on his back.

"Good. Once you've got him, bring him back. We've got questions for him," Steve responded, glancing over to Natasha. At his faint nod toward Azarov's workroom, Natasha was already on her way inside. She was brought up short, though at a furious objection from Nadine.

Turning, Natasha was met with the sight of Steve and Nadine locked in an intent stare-off, Steve's hand closed firmly around the blonde assassin's arm.

"Let go of me," she was growling, but Steve was having none of it.

"You just jeopardized our entire mission. You're not going anywhere. Barton can handle the shooter. Natasha and J.A.R.V.I.S. can handle Azarov's computers and you are going to sit here and wait until we decide what our next move is. Is that clear?" Nadine glowered at him, surprising Natasha at how transparent she was allowing herself to be in this moment. A flicker of unease went through the redhead; Azarov must have really shaken her old friend. But Nadine wasn't about to let it go.

"What makes you think you can give me orders, Captain," she snapped back, "I'm not an Avenger. Now let me go!"

"No."

"Sorry to break it up and be the bearer of bad news," Clint's voice broke in over the comm, "but this guy's toast. We're not getting anything out of him anymore. I'll send what I can get from him to J.A.R.V.I.S., but I have a feeling this guy's going to be a dead end." With another snarl, Nadine shoved away from Steve and wrenching her arm free from his grip. Natasha couldn't help but grimace as she met Steve's eye.

"It should have been me to go after him," the blonde was grumbling as she turned again to fix Steve with another sharp glare before resuming her agitated pacing, "if you hadn't stopped me—"

"Nadine," Natasha broke in, halting her friend's ranting. Surprisingly, Nadine paused, meeting Natasha's eye. Natasha nearly started at the anxious fear flickering in the familiar grey eyes.

"We copy, Barton," Steve spoke up softly behind them, "get back here. Once Nat and J.A.R.V.I.S. are done with Azarov's computers we'll wrap it up and move out." Taking the hint, Natasha retreated for real this time to Azarov's workspace.

But not before she saw Nadine sink down into one of the apartment's few chairs, her head falling into her hands.

It wasn't long before Clint had joined them in Azarov's apartment. As Natasha looked up upon hearing him arrive, she noticed that Nadine had made her way into the workroom herself, silently watching as Natasha tried to recover what she could from Sergey Azarov's corrupted harddrives as she and J.A.R.V.I.S. collected and copied what they could to comb through later.

Natasha couldn't help but grin with amusement as Clint looked around the apartment and peaked into the workroom, eying Nadine.

"Did you at least get something out of him?" The barest hint of a grin appeared on Nadine's face at the archer's question. But Natasha didn't miss the renewed flicker of anxiety that came with it. Nadine shrugged.

"With the right incentives he had a few things to say," she offered in response, but she refused to elaborate further.

Clint glanced around, catching Natasha's eye for a moment before his gaze fell back to Nadine, swallowing almost nervously. "Somehow," he said in an overly bright voice, "somehow I thought there'd be more blood, giving the screaming we heard." Nadine frowned, glancing around the room. There wasn't a drop of blood to be found save for the pool gathering below Azarov's body from the fatal gunshot wound in the other room. The blonde assassin quirked a skeptical eyebrow at the archer.

"Make a mess? How unprofessional," she responded dryly. Natasha nearly chuckled.

"It would have been nice to have a chance to question him ourselves," Steve added disapprovingly. Nadine glanced at him, and Natasha didn't miss the dangerous glint in her eye. So, Azarov had said something Nadine hadn't wanted the rest of them to hear, it seemed. But in an instant it was gone again, Nadine's expression clear and seemingly open as she shrugged nonchalantly; Natasha knew better, and judging by the way Steve's eyes narrowed fractionally, he suspected the same.

"And I preferred to have my secrets die with him," she said coolly, meeting Steve's eye in challenge. Natasha nearly gaped. She hadn't quite been expecting Nadine to answer like that. She hadn't really expected her to answer at all beyond that bored little shrug. After a moment, Steve seemed to back off, though the frustrated tension in his shoulders didn't ease. Natasha glanced to Nadine, catching her old friend's eye.

"You know, I remember you not being very good at interrogation," Natasha broke in, a trace of teasing in her voice. Nadine nearly snorted with disparagement, though her lip curled with amusement. Natasha half-expected her to roll her eyes.

"I didn't like interrogation. That didn't mean I wasn't any good at it. I may not have been the best back then, but I did know what I was doing. Which you should know. It is kind of a crucial skill in our line of work."

"Romanoff," Steve broke in, pointedly looking to Natasha to get her back on task, "anything of interest on his harddrives?" Natasha glanced to him and Clint before turning back to the computer systems arrayed around them, a complex array of monitors, modems and a variety of other hardware nearly covering an entire wall of the room in screens and blinking lights. Sighing heavily, she shook her head as Steve came forward to lean over her shoulder.

"He was definitely keeping an eye on us. But there's nothing that really stands out when it comes to the hit on me. I mean, a few recent communications about Nadine's movements, but whomever he was talking to is blocked, untraceable. But someone was certainly insistent for confirmation when Azarov passed it on that we had her. Other than that, though, there's very little I'm finding about her current contract. He managed to delete a lot and corrupt more before Nadine even got up here. He knew we were coming, probably either from when J.A.R.V.I.S. made the link to him or from when we got here.

"Either way, it's going to take some work, recovery and hard analysis before we have anything usable on this mysterious other party," Natasha

"So we still don't know who put the hit out on you or why," Clint added, having come up to stand beside Steve as Natasha spoke. Natasha shrugged turning again to face her teammates.

It was then that she noticed Nadine was nowhere in sight. Without even bothering to answer Clint she was up from the worn computer chair in an instant and was brushing past the two men out into the main room. She couldn't help the frustrated groan that accompanied her realization.

Nadine was gone.

A/N: Well? Not so dramatic as last week…but I hope you all enjoyed anyway!

Thanks for reading! I hope to hear from you all!

Be sure to favourite, follow and, of course, review! We're fast approaching Review 100! And remember, with me Celebrations often take the form of sneak peeks or even early chapters… ;)

See you next week!

Guest Reviews:

Jag: And that's the only reason I left it in. It really did have such a big impact on Nadine as a character that it felt just as wrong leaving it out as it was uncomfortable to write. As for what's going to happen next? You'll just have to keep reading ;)

mutt02: Oh trust me, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it too… When Nadine sprung that little aspect of her backstory on me I had pretty much the same reaction as you…