Just a big thank you to all of you! All flashbacks are italicized.

Natasha POV

"Pack your bags, we're going." Clint burst into my dorm on the helicarrier. We hadn't seen each other much since we arrived from the restaurant yesterday. Clint had been under numerous psychological test from the moment he arrived. I was welcomed to stay in the waiting room to keep him company in between tests but he had urged me to go get some rest.

"Clint it's nearly midnight, where exactly are we going?" I gave him a questioning look. He grinned back childishly but broke when he looked at what I was holding in my lap.

"What you got there, Nat?" I looked down at the homemade weaving loom and tugged at the yarn a bit.

I shrugged without looking up, "I'm weaving a quilt for Lila." He quickly shut door and took a step into the dorm. He moved closer to my spot on the bed staring at the quick movements my hands were making.

"Nat, are you feeling alright?" He didn't take a seat next to me, he simply crouched down and looked up to see my face that hadn't shifted from my weaving.

I sighed then released the anger I had towards Barton for a day now. I knew he could mask every single emotion to pass an evaluation but was he seriously going to bottle everything up. I was frustrated, I felt weak and compromised because I was actually admitting to grief. But, Clint? No, he could fake a smile, fake his sanity, fake everything! It wasn't a competition, but if it was I should be the one winning, I was the Black Widow! I knew he was crumbling from Coulson's death and a pang a guilt ruptured in me that I couldn't help Clint because he wouldn't let me.

"No, I'm not okay," I tossed the loom aside, "I don't do crafts Barton! You should know that!"

Clint wasn't fazed by the outburst, he put a hand my knee and whispered, "Tasha, what can I do to help?"

That was the last straw, I gave a death glare. I saw a flash of fear in him. I stood up and shoved his shoulders so that he lost balance from the crouched position he was in.

"Help?" I retorted, "You can't bring back one of my only friends, Clint! But you could at least try to act like you cared about him!" My voice was hinted with a Russian accent.

Clint, who was back on his feet glared at me, a look usually reserved for one of his targets. I didn't fight when he grabbed me by my shoulders and pinned me to the wall. He did it with a bit of force but definitely not enough to cause any pain.

"You don't think I care Natasha! You honestly think I'm that I'm hiding emotions just to make you look weak!" Clint raising he voice at me triggered a flight or fight response. I felt tears in my eyes and I had no interest in reliving yesterday morning's breakdown.

In determining whether to fight or flight, I did both. Pushed him off of me and sent his back to the opposite wall just a few feet away. I walked a few feet gearing to punch his jaw when I couldn't. I ran from the room and ran down the hall.

Clint's POV

"But you could at least try to act like you cared about him!" It stung painfully. Hearing those words come from Natasha hurt every fiber of my body. Then the anger started the burning sensation of fury towards the woman in front of me. I had her pinned to wall, I didn't use excessive force because she hardly objected the motion.

I yelled at Tasha. With no forethought of what position she is in. I let my anger at everything else that occurred the past few days boil over and release it on my friend. Over where I had her on wall she flashed a pitiful look similar to the one she occasionally offered me when she first got to SHIELD.

She easily was able to push me into the wall and I readied myself for hit she about to deliver. I looked at her face contort. I could recognize that face anywhere. It only happened once before.

"I put faith in you Widow, please don't disappoint me," I spoke to her directly and firmly. I was using a technique that most would consider suicidal.

When Fury told me that he was holding me responsible for gathering some vital information about her past, he didn't specify in which way to do it. Hence, why I removed the restraints her hands were bonded to and removed her from the small interrogation room she'd been cooped up in for about fifteen hours. I took her to my dorm but left the door open because although trusting I wasn't crazy. I'd even taken it upon himself to order a pizza before I bought her in.

To my dismay she didn't touch the food in front of her. "You think you're a hero for forcing one assassin to join your side." She didn't say it harshly or even as a question, she reported it as a fact. Her voice was particularly robotic from her masking her Russian accent.

"I think that I saved you from imminent death." Before I completed my statement I knew and she knew I was lying, we both were aware of what happened in that trashy Budapest motel. Generously, she played along.

"Arrogance," once again it wasn't a thought or question, it was a fact in her eyes.

"You barely know me, give me some credit, Natalia." Her eyes went dark and I instantly removed the smirk I had plastered on.

"What did you call me?" I heard her natural accent slipping through.

"Natalia," I repeated looking for any immediate reaction, "your name, Natalia."

She gave me a blank stare, she was shutting her emotions down. I knew this meant that she'd remain quiet for the rest of the evening. I needed her to fight it, I needed to continue my questions before I gave any of the higher ups a reason to discard of her.

"Widow? Stay with me alright, I just need you to answer a few questions. Then you can head to your room and I will finish off that slice of pizza I so gratefully bought for you." I hoped that by being deliberately arrogant she might be inspired to counter me with an insult.

"What's the first one?" the American accent was back in full force.

I sighed, she was gone for the day no more emotion not even an inkling of who she was when she looked up to my eyes in that motel room just a few nights previous. "Where were you trained?"

A nearly silent gasp escaped her.

"Natalia?"

Her face contorted to one of disgust and a pinch of fear. Her breathing became labored as she screwed her eyes shut and sealed her lips together. I wasn't sure what to do so I repeated her name with more volume.

"Natalia!"

Her eyes flew open. I noticed she was sweating and swaying slightly. She looked straight at me, quickly she growled something in Russian. It was nearly a mumble, my Russian was a bit rusty and whatever she'd said was too quiet and too fast for me to discern.

"What?" I asked, I couldn't piece together what was happening. She only repeated the statement again this time the clarity was even farther off.

Her breathing didn't improve neither did the foreign language she was using every few seconds to say a phrase or two. I realized she was stuck in her past. I stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't touch me!"

I nodded and removed my hand, "English. Great, I know that one pretty well. Do you know where you are at?" I refused to call her by any name at the moment fearful on how she may react.

"Yes, I do." She stated with an uncomfortable calmness to her then walked out of dorm. Officially I was supposed to escort her from room to room but that didn't seem wise to follow.

I couldn't believe I would just let her go those many years back. Not this time.

I shuffled to the doorway that she had fled from just seconds ago. A few agents were crowding the area just outside the doorway, probably alarmed by hearing my shouts. I pushed passed them and ignored their calling after me. I saw Tasha run through a turn at the end of the corridor leaving my line of sight.

Natasha POV

I was smaller and weaker. The halls were dark but the screams were still echoing. It was a live horror film. I noticed I was barefoot and wearing only a nightgown, I suppressed the urge to scream aloud. I wasn't sure if this was a flashback or not.

The screams were becoming more prevalent, at first I just covered my hands over my ears and continued running. Then I hesitated, unsure of where this long hallway leads to, then footsteps. Footsteps. I shuffled back and forth not knowing whether to flea closer to the screams or launch myself in the direction of the footsteps.

"Romanova," the voice sounded far away, "Romanova, Romanova!"

"Romanoff!" the nightmare ended. I was standing in an unfamiliar section of the rooming wing of the helicarrier. I turned to see the source of the firm voice that pulled me from the past. Steve Rogers.

"Romanoff," he spoke much more softly, "are you alright, agent?" I looked around trying to see exactly where I was before I turned my attention to Cap.

"I'm just fine," I said casually. He studied me for a moment before glancing down the hall, he was standing in the doorway of a temporary dorm leaning against the frame.

"Any particular reason you were running down the hall with your ears covered?"

I couldn't break my façade, at the same time I didn't have a proper answer. I gave him questioningly dark smirk, "You're not judging, are you Rogers?" I crossed my arms and raised a single eyebrow hoping it was enough to intimidate him.

"Of course not ma'am," I knew my reputation with him wasn't faltering I was still the Black Widow, "I thought it would be appropriate to offer you some water, seeing as your sweating."

I hadn't even noticed the sweat, "Why not, Rogers," I shrugged and followed him into to the room and took a seat on the arm chair. He handed a paper cup of water and took a seat on the bed. These dorms were incredibly small and he was only a few feet away. I noticed he seemed to be dressed to go somewhere even though it must have been about midnight.

"Running off somewhere, Captain?"

He raised his eyebrows, "We're leaving in a half hour, right Romanoff?" I unsuccessfully tried to hide the confusion his question elicited. "Didn't Barton tell you?"

I remembered the original reason Clint came to my room, "No he didn't get a chance to."

"Oh," he searched my face looking for understanding, "well Fury's sending us to the New York SHIELD base, that's where Loki is being held. Thor is with him and Stark, obviously is at his tower in the city."

"Who's us?" I gulped down the rest of my water.

"Well you, Clint, Banner, and Selvig are still aboard the ship so just them plus me," he smiled at me, "where going to going oversee Loki's sendoff tomorrow morning."

"Then what happens?" I could hear the eager curiosity in my voice.

"Well, I guess you'll have to report back to Fury and decide how you want spend the next few days."

I rolled my eyes, "I meant you, Rogers. What happens to you?"

"Oh, well not entirely sure yet I guess I'll be somewhere around the city."

"Do me a favor? Actually do yourself a favor, put an honest effort in learning about the world, Cap. It'll save you from a lot of Tony's jabs." I leaned forward, "Try Gone with the Wind, a friend showed it to me, excellent movie."

"Tasha, Gone with the Wind was released in 1940, I think he's seen it." Steve and I both were startled to see Clint smirking in the doorway, "Do you even know any movies that have been released in the past fifteen years?"

Steve sat in amazement that Agent Barton was able to sneak up on him. I smiled and waved my hand, "well then I'd go for The Sound of Music, one of my friend's absolute favorite," Clint and I shared a smile, both well aware of which friend I was referring to. "Well Steve, I better be going. Wouldn't want to hold the rest of you up."

Rogers finally focused back on me, "The Sound of Music, looking forward to it Tasha." Clint and I both froze for a moment. Barton took a threatening step towards Rogers. I burst out laughing, then put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't call me Tasha," I was smiling but all could see the seriousness I had. He nodded slowly, completely mystified at my partner's and I interactions with each other.

I passed by Clint who was now sizing up Rogers, when I reached the doorway and gestured for Clint to follow me. His anger subsided, "We'll see you in a bit, Steve" Clint gave him a half forced smile before turning to leave.

"Natasha" I said, "You may call me Natasha."

"Do you even sleep? It's like four in the morning! Did you really have to come banging on my door to tell me that?"

I backed up from his door and awkwardly turned to go.

"Wait," he tugged my arm gently, beckoning my attention, "I'm sorry, for everything. Does that happen often?" He was referring to the flashback I had in his room over dinner a few hours back.

"No, just this once," I felt less confident and spoke in a whisper. I began turning to leave again.

"Hey Nat, why don't we not mention last night to Fury?" He always tried so hard to lift me out of poor moods with humor.

"You may not call me Nat." I was satisfied from his shock expression of my overly alert attitude change. The shock was soon replaced with a goofy grin.

"How about Tasha?"

"Over my dead body," I spat out strutted away.

We walked back towards my room in silence. Clint lead since I wasn't sure exactly how many turns I took during the flashback. We when reached my room he didn't pause to follow me inside and shut the door behind.

"Tasha, I am so unbelievably sorry. I'm sorry I made you revisit you past and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I know this so much for to handle."

I looked up from the small bag I was stuffing with my basics, "Clint, I'm handling myself. You're the one that won't let me help you."

"Nat, I just I don't know right now. I know this hurts me but I can't come to terms with it." Clint looked like he was fighting tears. I walked over to him to pull him into a comforting hug, he buried his face and let a slight sob escape.

"It's alright Clint, its fine." I rocked him a bit and let him interpret my words. We stayed like that for a minute or two before he released me. He gave me a sad smile in which I replied with a squeeze to his arm.

"We should be going," Clint shifted the subjected," All ready to go, Tasha?" I smiled and nodded.

I stirred in my sleep, I didn't feel comfortable. I knew my surroundings were different and my eyelids felt too heavy. I forced them open. A hospital bed.

"Tasha?" I forced myself to turn my head to see who else was in the room. Barton, obviously. "Tasha?"

He tugged at my hand and I pulled it out of his grasp. I started to remember being in a park after dark just wanting some air. I had been at SHIELD for a month and there were times when I liked to leave simply because I could, I had free will.

"I remember a saw a man in the distant with a gun, when I noticed him it was already too late," I thought aloud and felt my body for injuries, there were several.

"It's alright, looks like some other assassins had some interest in you. You pulled through as always."

"Are we going after them?" My throat felt raspy, Barton must have heard it too because he pushed a cup of water in my direction.

"Relax there Tasha, I promise you we hunted them down as soon as we found out your body was in distress."

"You aren't allowed to call me Tasha," my voice found some reserved energy to glare at the archer.

"Technically, you were pronounced dead for three minutes. 'Over my dead body', I think that gave me clearance."

"It did not," I glared back.

"Tasha, I think you're going to like your new nickname." I couldn't resist the giddiness in his eyes my lips curved into a small smile.

There you have it folks! Please let me know what you think!