Whoever Red pole had once been, he was now a monstrosity. A few wisps of black hair remained on his head; the rest presumably had fallen out. Great sores wept puss from his face, the rotten melted flesh exposed beneath ripped skin. He smelled of disease and death.

While Hannah averted her eyes from the creature, Natasha held his gaze.

'I'm sorry, but who are you?' She asked as if the horror before her was completely normal.

'Why, am I so different from how Agent Barton described me?' Red pole chuckled.

Natasha shrugged.

'I am Barton's nemesis, the ying to his yang, the dark to his light...' He crowed.

Natasha shook her head in incomprehension. 'He's never mentioned you, sorry.'

Red pole was visibly taken aback. Regrouping, he waved a finger at Natasha in admonishment. 'You look to trick me my dear, but I long ago realised that Barton would have become tortured by me, by my escape from his clutches. He has been searching... searching for me, the one that got away...'

Natasha raised a finger to her lips as if thinking. 'What did you say your name was?'

Annoyance crossed the damaged face. 'You seek to toy with me Agent Romanoff. You see, Barton should have suffered the same fate, he too was exposed on the Ānquán tōngdào, tell me would you still want him if he looked like I do, how deep does your love actually descend?'

'I think there may be just few slight misunderstandings here.' Natasha said getting to her feet.

'What are you doing?' Hannah hissed.

Red pole took a step back as Natasha took another forwards.

'For one thing if Barton was going to have a nemesis they would already be dead. If there is one thing you can say about him, he's relentless. If you were on his radar.' She made a cutting motion across her throat and took another step.

'I'm warning you Agent Romanoff...' Red pole retreated again.

Natasha advanced. , 'I'm also fairly certain you are not the only one that's ever gotten away, but... and here's the thing, moron's like you don't keep quiet and thank their good fortune that they're still alive, they have to attract his attention again... And you really have attracted his attention.'

He pressed a small button on the harness and a light pulse of electricity coursed through the widow. She stopped momentarily before gritting her teeth and taking another step.

'Barton wouldn't have lost one second's sleep over you... in fact, he won't have given you a second thought... you're not his enemy, to him you're insignificant.'

Another charge crackled. Natasha's hair began to stand on end. She stopped, waiting for the pain to subside. Shaking herself, she took another step.

'And then we come to me.' Her eyes blazed. 'Love is for children and idiots. I am not, nor will I ever be, anyone's woman...' She growled. 'And I will never, ever be tamed. '

In his haste, Red pole backed into a small table holding a willow pattern vase. It wobbled precariously before the ornament crashed to the ground, shattering into pieces.

With a cry, he pressed the button once more, holding it down. Current ripped through Natasha. She refused to scream, but muscles spasms could not be avoided, crumpling to her knees, the room began to lose all focus before finally everything went black.

The hospital fire had been tough on them both. Whilst the target, a surgeon testing narcotics on human guinea pigs, had been successfully eliminated, it was not before he had set a fire on the hospital ward. His intention being to kill all of his victims and claim his innocence; a bullet from Natasha had curtailed his plans.

Unfortunately, the two agents had been unable to reach the stricken souls inside and they had perished. The images and the smell haunted their dreams.

For a few nights after, the horrors played over and over in Natasha's head. In desperation she threw back the covers and crossed the hall to where Hawkeye was billetted. The full moon shone through the window, and she saw her partner lying on his back in bed, arms behind his head and staring at the ceiling. Turning his face her way, without saying a word, he pulled back the covers. Natasha stepped over the threshold and crept in beside him. Resting her head on his chest, she was grateful for the comfort of his arm around her shoulders and the steady beating of his heart in her ears. The soothing rhythm eventually allowed them both to be lulled into sleep. Neither spoke about it. In the morning whoever woke first would simply leave the bed and go about the morning's tasks. There was no question of sex or anything physical other than the closeness of someone they could trust. When the nightmares returned they sought comfort in the other's arms.

One such night, in a safe house in Sofia, Natasha had tossed and turned in her bed unable to get the screams to go away but, tonight her partner's bed was empty. There was no sign of him anywhere else in the house. A movement caught her eye outside. Scaffolding had been erected across the top of the buildings, and someone was moving about.

Lifting the sash window silently, Natasha watched as Clint walked barefoot across the poles, his arms outstretched in balance. Turning with his back to her, he hopped backwards. As he fell, Clint caught the pole and immediately swung upright into a handstand, perfectly balanced and straight, the weight taken by his muscular arms. He seemed frozen in time until his legs slowly descended into perfect box splits. Straightening once more, he curled his body, with perfect control until his feet once more found the meagre surface.

Watching in fascination, it reminded Natasha of a ballet. Graceful and fluid, Clint cared nothing for the floors beneath him, he had no interest in a safety line, or net to catch his fall, when his mind was set he was fearless and determined.

She rested her head against the window frame and the movement caught Clint's attention.

'Hey.' He said quietly.

'Hey.'

'You couldn't sleep either?'

Natasha shrugged.

Nimbly, Hawkeye walked towards her across a beam. Just before the window he stopped and held out his hand.

Natasha frowned.

'Come on.' He said, extending the hand again.

Peering over the window ledge, the Black widow grimaced at the street below, before looking back at her partner. He took a couple of steps back and forth. 'Come on, or are you too chicken?' He insisted.

Climbing over the window ledge, Natasha looked down once more.

'Look at me.' Clint said, clicking his fingers to get her attention. Their gazes locked. 'Just keep your eyes on mine, stay with me.'

Walking easily along the beam, Clint took both her hands in his. 'Tash, do you trust me?'

Natasha nodded slowly.

'You know I would never let you fall.' Clint said softly as they inched out into the darkness.

Darkness, all around. Natasha resisted the urge to whimper as she slowly regained consciousness. There were arms around her. For a moment she imagined them to belong to Barton. He had found her, he hadn't let her fall, and he'd saved her.

As the foggy images cleared, she realised it wasn't him. Hannah knelt on the floor, her arms cradling the Black Widow. The girl had been crying.

Stirring, Natasha tried to look around. Where was Red Pole? It seemed they were alone in the chamber.

'Wha...' She tried to speak but her tongue felt far too large for her mouth.

'Oh, you're awake, you're awake!' Hannah shook her until Natasha pushed her away.

'What were you thinking?' The girl exclaimed. 'I told you not to fight it. You could have been killed.'

Struggling to sit up, Natasha coughed. 'I wanted to see how much voltage I could take.'

'Take for what? He could have fried you!' Hannah said, tears streaming down her face.

'If he does that he loses what he believes to be his advantage over Clint.' She replied.

'You think Agent Barton will come for us? How will he find us?' Hannah babbled.

Natasha struggled to her feet wobbling slightly. 'Barton will find us.' She said confidently.

He wouldn't ever let her fall.