Instinct

"So, what will you do now Natalia Romanova?" Harry raised an eyebrow at her slightly clenching hands, as though she was trying her hardest to remain in control.

"Because, my idea of getting along is you leaving right about now, after all I've been quite clear on that point so far." He added smoothly.

"Why are you so damn eager to get rid of me?" she replied, glowering at him. "I didn't ask to end up in this situation!"

"No, but you were stupid enough to get yourself into a mess in the first place." Harry returned swiftly. "After all my dear, if it weren't for your… quirks shall we say? You would be dead now."

"As far as I'm concerned, you're just another tortured soul, and one is enough in my house." Harry scowled at her slightly. "You're just lucky I'm in a good mood today."

"A good mood?" Natalia queried him incredulously. "You're downright grouchy!"

"Yes well, perhaps I should have said was." Harry grumbled. "After all, you're quickly becoming a nuisance."

"Well so sorry to disappoint you." She fired back, voice dripping with stinging sarcasm.

"I should hope you are." Harry barely batted an eye as he returned her barbed words with an almost affable smile.

Biting back a snarl, she instead replied as sweetly as she could, though that was a matter of interpretation. "Well I can't leave now. I'm being searched for, unless you're going to tell me that they aren't."

"With proof." She added, causing Harry to shut his mouth in slight annoyance.

"Can't deny that my dear." He eventually replied.

"For the sake of your continued existence, I suggest you refrain from calling me 'my dear' Potter." She ground out slowly, as though wanting nothing more than him to dare say it again. She hated been talked down to as if she were a child! She was older than Potter, of that she was… well… almost certain? He was a rather unusual person, if he was even human. Of course, during her line of work, she had seen many unusual things, a non-human bipedal that looked like a human was in the realm of possibilities.

"Then for the sake of my continued existence, what do you suggest I call you?" Harry replied, this time deigning not to continue his teasing and taunting of the recently recovered Widow.

"Romanoff will do for now." She replied quickly.

"Your non-Russian cover name?" Harry inquired curiously. "Don't see how it's not recognisable at all." He added dully.

"It's a real name, moron." She retorted. "I have two different versions of my own."

"Eh, fair point." Harry murmured. "Wouldn't be much of a spy if that was a cover name."

"Glad you understand." She replied smoothly.

"So Romanoff, what happens now?" Harry asked her slowly, having just come to the realisation that he had no idea of what would happen now. "I mean, how are we to get rid of you?"

Ignoring Potter's fixation on getting her out of his… house… for now, she thought for a moment. She realised that it would be far more difficult than she thought at first. Then again, it was a secret project, and if she could somehow get away without being noticed, and deal with the people behind it, she'd be free to move around unhindered.

"Do you honestly think it would be so easy Romanoff?" Harry interrupted her musing after a moment, reminding her that there was someone fully capable of somehow reading her thoughts in the same room with her. "First of all, are you even capable of actually eliminating said people? Last I checked, you almost died. You can't simply just get back into the swing of things after a psychotic break like that either."

"I know you can read my mind. I'm not imagining that." Natasha fired back at his words. "I'm not having a breakdown or anything here Potter."

"Coulda fooled me!" he scoffed with amusement. "Last I remember, you were shaking like a leaf."

"That may be, but I'll be damned if something so trivial would put me out of action." Natasha retorted hotly. "I'm a highly trained-"

"Brainwashed." Harry interrupted, before she forcefully continued.

"Trained professional."

"Lady, you're barely a fly in this business." Harry snorted. "Let alone a bloody spider."

"…"

"Let me put it this way." Harry smiled grimly. "Does a brainwashed professional spy, slash assassin, slash soldier, have any concept of feelings?" he growled out, ignoring her insistence on being a trained professional.

"Aren't you the least bit scared… apprehensive, or even just a little excited?" Harry added. "I certainly can see that you show emotion, but you seem to lack even the basic understanding of it. Scientific definitions maybe, but you've never truly felt anything but fear."

At her silence, he continued. "Wanna know how I know?"

"It's because you're an animal." He concluded smoothly.

"What the hell are you on about Potter?" Natasha hissed at the apparent insult. "I'm the animal here!?"

"Huh!" she huffed a moment later.

"Am I making you mad?" Harry stared at her blankly. "Because you don't know what mad isss…"

The intense freezing chill that flooded the room made her attempt to talk back die in her throat as a soft whimper.

"Do you even know what hate, sssorrow, remorssse, hell… even love isss?" he continued, terrifyingly blank and cold all of a sudden. "Becaussse if you dare sssay sssuch a thing my dear… I might be ever ssso tempted to put you down like a dog." He snapped the last word with power, causing her to flinch back away from him instantly.

"Now tell me fly…" Harry smirked mirthlessly. "What do you feel?" he questioned her eerily, watching as her deceptively slender form trembled for the slightest instance, before steeling and tensing once more.

Harry's nostrils flared for a moment at her stubbornness and refusal to see herself for what she truly was. Fine… have it the hard way, He thought darkly.

"In this house is a room." Harry began all of a sudden, gazing into the depths of her eyes, as if staring into her very soul. "Why don't you… go see?" he suggested almost nonchalantly, but his eyes suddenly seemed to burn into her like hot pokers, as if daring her to contradict him.

"It's a lovely room." He added offhandedly. "Very pretty."

"I'll let you see it if you like." he continued emotionlessly. "See, it's just on the right there." He added, slowly pointing his finger to a black door with rusty hinges, which she could have sworn was never there when she last checked. She knew it couldn't be there as it lead to the outside of the house, yet it was not a door visible on the outside, but couldn't help but let it draw her eye, as if something compelled her to go and see.

"N-No…" she shivered slightly at the almost irresistible temptation. "I d-don't want to!" she exclaimed slightly weakly, as her own legs seemed to ignore her own mind's pleading cries.

"NO!" she yelled all of a sudden, causing her legs to falter in their movements, before a steel like phantom grip seemed to take hold of her and force her to continue her inexorable walk towards the door. A moment later, Harry swept past her without paying the slightest bit of attention, merely twisting the door handle, as the click of unlocking echoed loudly in her ears. "No no no no no!" she repeated like a mantra, yet still not being able to break free.

As she finally drew within an arm's reach of the door, Harry spoke, absent of all feeling. "Humans and animals are both alike, Romanoff." She now couldn't reply, feeling as though her mouth was glued shut, and even her thoughts couldn't seem to grasp anything other than what he was saying.

"When it comes down to it, Humans have the same instincts that animals do." He added, this time looking her in the eye with some undecipherable emotion, though the rest of his face remained utterly devoid of feeling. "Humans may be alike, but they are not the same Romanoff."

"Like it or not, you are not human at the moment." Harry declared. "Sure, you are human in almost every way except one. And it's the only part that separates humans from animals. Unluckily for you, I have no more patience to spare. So now I teach you a lesson I hope you will never forget."

"Oh and trust me… I'm being kind." His face suddenly lit up in a bright toothy smile that seemed to convey no kindness at all. It was completely contradictory to his words.

And with that, her feet lurched her forwards through the door, into pitch black darkness, the door slamming shut and locking behind her. Slowly but surely as her eyes adjusted slightly, she could see a faint silver shimmer in the centre of the room. By now, she had completely abandoned all thoughts of getting out. She knew he wouldn't allow it. And somehow she also knew there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop him having so much control over her at this point in time. Why not see what he wanted her to see? It couldn't hurt could it? H-He was only being kind. He said so!

Oddly enough, she could not recall him lying to her at all. That being said, she hadn't been able to ask him much of anything, her mind being in far too much turmoil. But he hadn't really said much either. He'd talked a lot, but never seemed to go anywhere meaningful with his words, until he became… scary. If scary was the right word. He seemed to become almost alien to her. Anathema to her own instincts even. Everything he seemed to do had some sort of purpose. But some of it was so far beyond her understanding she couldn't even begin to guess. He was a complete enigma to her. She felt like she knew him and yet not at all. Though his words seemed meaningless at times, his actions always caused something to happen. Her wandering thoughts soon became fixated on the room however, as the shimmering silver light drew her attention.

Realising that she now had free will over her own body at the moment, she walked towards it. At this point she couldn't help but think that perhaps this wasn't her will at all. Potter had seemed perfectly capable of forcing her to do things against her will, or even to twist her thoughts. She had to throw everything she had first thought about him out of the window. She had nothing to compare him to, and no knowledge of his true power. Sure, she knew he could read her mind, make her do things she had no desire to do, or even make her desire to do things that she wouldn't normally. But when he had become ever so cold and terrifying, she felt like she truly was a fly. But he hadn't lied. He had been truthful. Even to the point of wanting her to leave. He truly wished her to go. Somehow, his voice never told a lie, but his emotions were completely deceitful and misleading. She couldn't read anything unless he spoke. And for someone who tried to understand the people around her by seeing them, this was a strange thing to be confronted with. If she were close enough to hear some people talk, she would perhaps be too close for safety's sake, especially on a mission.

Finally the shimmer became clear to her. Where everything else was a void of blackness, this object was a source of light. As she stepped towards what seemed to be a silvery sheet covering a tall rectangular object, she noticed her own footprints on the floorboards. Whatever this room contained, even Harry had not been to see for a very long time. The floor was covered in what seemed like inches of dust, as though it had remained utterly undisturbed. A small circle seemed to be lit up by this glow, showing the dust covering the old and… silent floorboards. She now realised she could not even hear her own breaths, footsteps or even command her own voice to speak. It seemed like everything had been stolen away by the curiosity in front of her. But she knew she had come too far now. There was only way forward. She needed to see what was under that silvery veil.

Firmly grasping the sheet in two clenched hands, she shut her eyes in slight trepidation, before slowly pulling the sheet off in one motion. She allowed the sheet to drop from her suddenly nerveless hands, as her body seemed to tremble for a moment. Her eyes remained screwed shut as she suddenly began to feel she had made a terrible mistake.

Look at me.

An ethereal voice seemed to speak into her mind, urging her to see. Just to take one little peek at what lay before her. She suddenly thought back to what she had seen in Harry's eyes when he was talking about this room. A voiceless whimper sounded in her parched throat as she realised with a lurch that he was unimaginably terrified. So terrified, that she had not even been able to process the feeling. And she knew what fear was. Or at least she thought she did, right up until this very moment.

Look at me.

The voice sounded to her ever so slightly more insistent, as the tension seemed to grow. Her bones seemed to rattle slightly, and her heart began to quicken. Her eyes were screwed so tightly shut, water began to form in the corners, slowly trailing down her cheeks. She didn't want to do it, but she knew she had been caught. The trap had been sprung, and she was bound in the web. How apt, she thought, for a fly.

Look at me.

Her whole body juddered at the almost commanding force this time, even though it had sounded no more powerful this time, she realised that she was slowly giving in to this thing that was eroding her will.

Look at me.

She could take it no more. She opened her eyes.

For eternity.

And then she screamed.

AN 25.08.2014

Well this took more time than expected mainly because I had other things I wanted to write.(See profile for other fics) That said, this chapter is more of an interlude between Harry and Widow actually learning about each other. What happens here is important to Natasha's development as a character, and how she goes about in the world from this point on. What's changed? Well you'll find out. Needless to say, what can Harry fear so much, that even he does not dare to tread in this room? Why does he even have such a room? That will be something we revisit many years later.

Next time, we'll see more Harry and Widow interaction, and some interesting events. Needless to say, this is before Widow meets Hawkeye, or S.H.I.E.L.D or the events of Avengers. Remember she's supposed to be old, yet always looking young as a result of that serum. It's kinda similar to the way Wizards age. At least, I consider the serum to slow aging to keep a spy's body in peak performance for as long as possible, not create biological immortality, otherwise it would be more widely used by the higher ups. So Natasha Romanoff has an extended lifespan beyond normal humans, perhaps in the range of Wizard lifespans, hey? Besides, the serum has effects that aren't always desirable and perhaps wasn't actually re-creatable at the time. That's my take on why it isn't widely used now. I can't remember specifics but I'll check it. At this point, this is during the Cold War, I'll probably give you a proper date and everything(like her current age) next time when I introduce a certain event. Harry will be involved sparingly with Widow's activities, but he has his own things to overcome.

Til next time!