Natasha was shaken awake by a doctor. "You are needed for your exam." He nodded to a soldier waiting for her again.

James was waiting at the door frame as Natasha was handed clothing again. In minutes she was changed behind a partition. Her black leotard dipped down her back, revealing bruises from the first test that still lingered. A blue bruise spanned her shoulder. While it didn't hurt the coloration was startling against her skin. The cuts had faded to pink scars. She knew they'd be invisible by tomorrow.

She tightly braided her long hair and twisted it into a bun atop her head. White tights and a red thin skirt. She approached the door and followed James wordlessly. It was a long walk to the ballet studio from medical. James radioed to his commander through a device on his wrist, "Escorting the trainee to the test now."

The hallways were empty. She knew everyone would be at this exam. She had watched countless exams in the studio. Girls pushed to the breaking point and then past it. Drill after drill until they dropped. Everyone dropped. It was a test to see how hard they could push past their physical limits and perform.

"Why is it that you are here?" She asked quietly as they walked. "I don't remember the soldiers being involved before."

James nodded, "It's new. I'm done with my training. They've asked me to help. With the Red Room now."

Natasha looked up at him, "I didn't know you were done."

He shrugged, "Neither did I. I guess I work for the Red Room now until I'm needed by someone else."

She rounded a corner and started descending the stairs. "We never talk about you." She whispered.

James nodded, "There's not much to tell, Tasha."

She paused and looked up at him, "Don't sell yourself short…" She started but he cut her off.

"Keep walking trainee!" He said loudly at her. She startled noticeably and spotted three girls heading down the stairs quickly.

She kept moving slowly as the girls passed and disappeared. James' hand brushed down her shoulder, a silent apology. It was too risky for them to talk.

"When can I see you?" She whispered.

He shook his head. "I have a mission tonight."

She stared at the ground. Tomorrow she'd have her procedure most likely. She suddenly felt so dumb for needing him. For wanting to see him.

"I can walk myself." She shook her head and hurried forward.

A sharp hand caught her wrist. James leaned in closely, "So do you if you pass."

Natasha frowned and looked at him quizzically. He looked upset with having divulged information. She tugged her hand away, "Is this how it is now? What happened to two days?"

James furrowed his brows and straightened up. "Natasha…" He breathed.

"No." She whispered and hurried down the rest of the steps. She reached the door without her escort. Madame looked unhappy with that.

The commander cornered James at the door and looked furious. Madame pressed shoes into Natasha's hands. "Put them on and take to the center of the floor."

Natasha moved to the center of the room and quickly put her pointe shoes on. The room was stuffy. Uncomfortably hot with all the extra bodies. She stood gracefully and held her head up, looking at her dance teacher for instruction. Perfectly poised and awaiting instructions. The commander shut the door and James filed in to the left and stood against the wall. She breathed slowly and let the frustration go.

Her teacher stood by a stereo and addressed her. "You will be asked to perform a variety of songs for the first phase of your test."

Natasha nodded. Knowing she wouldn't be given any notice to what song he would select. She would have to identify the song in seconds and recall the choreography.

He pressed the button on the stereo and she knew the song instantly. She leaned onto her toes gliding across the floor. 8 minutes of spinning, bending and pristine balancing.

"Again." He concluded, pressing the button again. Natasha's ear picking up the quickened tempo. He played the same song only faster.

8 minutes had her heart pounding as she kept up with the faster tempo. 5 more songs he played after that with no time between. As a song ended the stereo seamlessly led into the next song. The stifling room did nothing to help her control her breathing. Sweat trickled from her hairline. Her body tested already with endurance.

Her teacher snapped his fingers and pointed to the bar behind her. She knew what to do. The warm ups, the stretches that brought no relief. Stretching was a chore.

He called out positions, stances and bends. One at a time at first them building into multiples. Expecting her to remember. Twice he paused and called her to repeat all the moves prior. Sweat trickled down her back. It was impossibly hot. Her pulse thundering in her ears.

"To the middle, Natasha." He called after an hour of working on the bar. She glimpsed herself in the mirror. Flushed and hair darkened with exhaustion.

"Spin." He said sternly.

She spun perfectly and faced him. He shook his head. "Spin until otherwise instructed."

She knew this was the end. She remembered now. How the girls who tested before her would spin, and spin until either exhaustion or failure presented. So she spun. It was easy at first. Whirling turn after turn. Propelling herself around and around again. To her left after each revolution she heard a clicking. Someone keeping count. She lost track herself until she wobbled having lost her spot to train her eyes.

"Again." He reached for the clicker. "54, I expect that you do not stop until you've doubled that."

Natasha panted. 108. No one had been able to do that. Why did it feel so hot in the room? She hurled herself into another spin. The first 10 were easy. The following 30 were done more on muscle memory than her own volition. By 50 she was shaking. Her breathing out of control.

Some of the younger girls began cheering for her. Encouraging her. Begging her not to fail. 60 turns. Her toes hurt. Her calves and thighs on fire. Her vision blurry. 75 turns, she wobbled mid turn. In a second she corrected, and hurried to keep spinning. A high pitched whining buzzed in her ears. She lost count. How many had she done? She gasped as she turned, willing herself faster. Faster and she could be done. She had to be close. 108.

She reached her limit, where her aching muscles in her legs said no more. She fell from the points of her toes. Her lips dry, her mouth dry. Ears ringing. Her teacher's lips were moving but she heard no sound. Madame seemed to be smiling as her vision darkened.

Natasha woke up, her hot skin pressed against the cold floor. It was quiet now. The girls had been removed. She was left with Madame, the commander, and her teachers. She blinked and sucked air deep into her lungs. James cleared his throat and alerted the commander.

"She's woken up."

How long had she been out? She stiffly pushed herself up, rubbing her cheek. She knew when girls fell in this exam, nothing was done to revive them. If they died it was because of weakness. If they woke up, they passed.

"Stand, Natasha." Her teacher said sharply.

She shook as she stood. Her body protesting each movement. James looked angry. Her eyes darted from his to her teachers.

"Congratulations, Natasha. You have completed your test. You have passed. Your written examination will begin in an hour." Madame delivered the good news.

The commander approached her, "Child do you need assistance getting to medical?"

Admitting so would show weakness. "No sir."

The hardened man looked surprised. "Madame you have produced a brave one."

Madame smiled proudly. "There was never any doubt that she wouldn't break records."

The commander motioned to James, "Barnes escort this brave one to medical. Try not to let her outrun you this time. Shouldn't be too hard, she's half dead."

They were left in the studio. Her teachers hurrying off to set up her exams. Natasha dropped to the ground. Her fingers numbly unlacing her shoes. James shut the door and hurried over to her.

He pushed her hands out of the way and tugged the knots loose for her. "I can do it." Natasha breathed.

James stilled and pulled his hands away. "Tasha…"

Tears washed down her cheeks as she tugged her shoes off. He reached forward and brushed her tears away.

"What are you doing?" She breathed.

"I'm worried about you. Why are you upset?" He whispered, his hand traced up her calve. The muscle tight and spasming under his hand. Her gently worked the muscle trying to alleviate the pain.

"Because…" She breathed. Emotion flooding her. "I don't want this to be two days. I want this to be forever. I don't care what they do to me tomorrow. I'll lie. We'll make it work. I l…" she wanted to say how she felt. To finish the words that scared her.

James smiled and cupped her face, "Say it, Tasha…" He whispered and winked. "You should be afraid of anything. Now with how strong you showed everyone you are."

She kissed the inside of his wrist, "I.. I love you.." She murmured.

He kissed her softly. How reckless they were being. She didn't care. "I love you Natasha."

She hiccupped and crawled into his arms. James cradled her against his body. After a few moments he looked down at her. "Are you done being mad at me?"

She smiled weakly, "For now."

His thumb brushed over her cheek. "You're so pale… You need to get to medical so they can help you."

"I'm fine, James. I just need to sit."

He shook his head. "Do you know why they made the soldiers watch?"

Natasha furrowed her brows, "No…"

He sighed, "Because we need to be able to see and assess when a member of our unit is pushed too far. What happens when people are fatigued and pushed to the extreme." He glanced at the floor where she laid after she fell. "You were lifeless on that floor for 15 minutes like a broken doll. They talked to the girls in the room. Saying if you were truly not weak you would wake up."

She lowered her eyes. "But I woke up.." She smiled weakly.

He smiled, "I'm so happy you did, Tasha.. I'm just saying… You need to go to medical and get some fluids."

He got up and pulled her up with him. Her legs buckled under her. She hissed and grabbed onto his arms. She breathed deeply and stood up.

James slipped his arm under her legs and whisked her off the ground. Natasha protested, "No, I need to walk to medical."

He sighed and gently set her down, "You can barely stand.. but you're going to walk three flights of stairs?"

"I have to." She gathered her shoes and limped to the door. Each step was agony to her bleeding toes, and overworked muscles. James followed her slowly, watching sweat pepper her forehead as she climbed the first set of stairs.

At the top of the stairs she panted and leaned against the wall. "I know you don't get it… but weakness is everything here. Your training is to identify weakness and stop it. Mine's to find weakness and push past it. Girls dance on broken toes. Fight with fractures."

He admired her for it. The strength she forced herself to have in the face of an obstacle her body was fighting her to back down from. She gripped the railing and pulled herself forward up the stairs. Her foot caught a step and sent her tumbling down. The commander had been coming down the stairs and paused.

He grabbed Natasha's arm and helped her up. He had a kindness now, away from the training room. She had begun to like this man. How him calling her child and brave one seemed fatherly.

"Still fighting, I see. Different enemy this time?" He asked her quietly.

Natasha panted, "Yes, Sir." Her body being the enemy now.

He patted her shoulder, "If I ever have a daughter. I shall tell her about you. I hope she'd be like you."

Natasha smiled. The commander looked at James sternly. "Why is it that I've come to see this injured child is in fact not in medical and falling down the stairs?"

James answered quickly, "Sir she refused my help."

He looked to Natasha who nodded. The commander smirked. "Miss Romanova, please let this soldier help you. Your testing is over for now."

Natasha stepped aside and let James pick her up. The commander continued his decent down the stairs. "And Barnes… Stay with her in medical. Make sure she rests for the remainder of the time."

James headed up the stairs after answering his commander. He looked down at her when he was out of earshot. "How is it that you make me look bad every time he is around?"

Natasha shut her eyes, "That is not my fault, you do that all on your own." She teased and let her head rest against his shoulder.

James' laughter rumbled deep in his chest. He rounded the corner to medical a minute later. He set her down on a bed and let the doctors do their job. He waited out of the way. Watching Natasha get a series of serum injections, and an IV. They made her eat a full meal again and shower.

The doctors cleared out for a training emergency. A doctor approached James. "Can you remove that IV in 10 minutes? She'll be good to go for her exams then."

James nodded and watched the last doctor hurry off. Usually training emergencies took at least an hour if they were serious. He drew the curtains around her bed after scanning the hallways. He laid on the bed next to her. Nudging her gently to roll towards him.

She didn't even open her eyes as she nestled into his arms. He let her sleep for the 10 minutes. His hands brushing up and down her back. Without jostling her too much he reached for a bandage and took her IV out.

Natasha mumbled, "Is it time?"

"Just about." He admitted and brushed his thumb over her cheek.

She groaned and sat up. Reaching for her freshly washed clothes from the first test. James stood up and helped her to her feet. "Change, I'll be right outside. I hear footsteps."

He kissed her briskly and rushed away. Behind the curtain she slowly changed. She heard several footsteps approaching.

"Miss Romanova… Madame is here for you." James said quickly.

She tugged on her boots and pulled the curtains back. "I'm ready, Madame." She wasn't afraid of the written exams. She knew this obstacle would be easy to complete. It was just one more step closer to graduation. That though still struck fear in her. The thought of the doctors doing whatever it was that they did to sterilize her. Consent and she lived. Refuse and she died. Refusal seemed stupid, when she stood here battered and exhausted from proving herself. Acceptance seemed wrong when she had James and a future.