The room was empty and eerily silent for a house so close to the road, the whole place had been like that so far. How had Grante sound proofed a house and yet it looked like it hadn't been updated in a hundred years?

It was an old safe house, the one Nadia had been at before the warehouse according to the tracker history. A large, Victorian style home located in a mid-sized town in Massachusetts that had been owned supposedly by some wealthy foreigner who rarely came through. The interior said nothing to someone looking casually. But people equipped with scanners and had an eye for detail? Loads.

Three hidden rooms had been found so far, a computer room with… computery things, Clint wasn't going to try to play 'name the technology' that was Tony's game or sometimes Nat's. Not his. The second was a bedroom strangely enough , with nothing beyond a rather uncomfortable looking mattress and bare walls. This must have been Five's room if he guessed correctly. His guess didn't help the curdling feeling in his stomach. The last one was the basement. The door had been disguised as one of the bookcases in some form of library or study. If his gut had been twisted before, that place made it exponentially worse. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen more than his fair share of horrifying things. But it didn't matter how many years went by, torture and the evidence of it wasn't something that he would get used to.

"I'm going to the computer room." Despite her stoic exterior, Clint could tell the room bothered Nat just as much as it did him.

"Okay." He nodded, "I'll finish scanning the house. We only have a couple rooms left."

XxX

Nadia wasn't sure how long she had stayed with her head on her Dad's legs, it had originally to get him to shut up and stop talking about the subject. The subject wasn't anything new. Talk to us. Tell us. Don't bottle it up. As if she hadn't spent every day of her life doing the exact opposite to survive.

Now, though, she was staying there. Why? She wasn't exactly sure. Having an accidental meltdown was mildly exhausting and his leg was more comfortable than a lot of other places she'd had to stay in before. It most definitely wasn't because she could practically smell the care rolling off him for her. How he had cautiously placed his hand on her shoulder, worried that it'd bother her but wanting to show he cared in the way he knew how.

This wasn't going to be enough damage control, however. She was going to have to get up eventually. Even if she pretended to fall asleep (or really did, she was tired enough) it wouldn't work. There would have to be some form of discussion. Maybe she should take a page from his book.

"I'm sorry for what I said, about the Win- about Bucky." She wasn't going to apologize about the first part or even mention it, that was a different can of noodles all together. "I don't really think he hates you or any of that." She stayed where she was, if only to avoid having to look at him and make things even more vulnerable than necessary.

"I forgive you, Nadia." His hand rested briefly on her head, presumably in a way of further acknowledgement.

"Why do you want to find him so badly when he obviously doesn't want to be found?" Was it the habits engrained from years of training trying to take advantage of the situation to gather more intel or was it something else? Considering that her training rarely kicked in these days, she was going to guess that it was more than likely a different factor that she had yet to discover.

"Because," Her father said, "He's my best friend and I told him that'd I'd be with him to the end of the line. I'm not just going to give up on him." His voice went softer, "I'm not going to give up on you either."

"Even after everything that he's done as the Winter Soldier? Or do you not know everything he's done?" Like you didn't with me for a while.

"He didn't have a choice with anything, Nadia."

"I know." Nadia barely managed to get the words out, "I told myself that everyday after they'd reset him." She wasn't going to think about some of the things they made him do after being reset. There was a reason she only thought of him and remembered him when he was more lucid.

"Did you get to see him often?" His hunger for knowledge about his friend dripped through his words.

"It depended on the times." She answered, it couldn't hurt if Steve knew more information about the Soldier. "He wasn't there until there were only a few of us left. Then more so with Five and me. Then after... what happened with Five, he wasn't around for a while. Once they started my training beyond endurance and began to intensify the fighting side, he would come in to train me for a week or so every month since he was also enhanced. It was nice when he hadn't been reset in a while and he was Bucky – not that I ever knew that name until recently." She paused, "I wasn't lying when I said he helped teach my all those things, but unlike most of my other teachers, he rarely used me as the example." Her father's breath caught in his throat. "He never taught me to like it either." Not exactly at least.

"He still," Her father searched for the words, "You said rarely."

"Yes."

"Does that mean -"

"Yes, when they ordered him to he did so and -" She stopped herself, realizing she'd forgotten what the and was for exactly. She'd forgotten. She never forgot. She could flip through her life like going through scenes in a movie. If she tried to think about it, it was blurry. A veil that was tempting to pull back. Not now. Maybe not ever. If she had made herself forget, then there was probably a very good reason. And he only what?

"And?" The fear made his voice a whisper.

"I've forgotten." Nadia brushed it off, making it obvious she didn't want to discuss it further. "Thank you, by the way, for the buns."

"You're welcome, Nadia." Again, he patted her head lightly. It wasn't an unpleasant gesture, quite surprisingly.

She could tell that this wasn't enough for him. She had told him she wanted to kill someone. But this time she was going to let him ask and talk about it.

XxX

Natasha sat at the desk and took out the drive Tony had given her as a gift a few months ago. More than likely all of the information would be heavily encrypted but at least it would be transferred over to one place. The drive cracked the passcode to the system easily and proceeded to transfer all the information to itself. While she waited, she clicked through the files. The Puppet, Rebirth, and several other coded files were on a tantalizing list before her. Project Red Rabbit. Was this the full information? Or just another overview? Was it right to read it? Or an invasion of privacy now that they knew her?

No, it wouldn't be prying per say. The more they knew about her the more they could help her. This mad scientist had literally created her and probably had notes on her physical make up down to the fine details. Maybe there was a way to reverse the 'fail safe' effects sooner. So no. It wasn't an invasion of privacy. Right?

Despite that, Natasha pulled out a secondary drive and put the file on that one instead of the main one. Nobody knew she was here except Clint, Mike (a good, fifty year old guy who was as honest as Steve and if possible wore his heart on his sleeve even more so.), and Agent Hill who had connected her with Mike as back-up. She would tell Steve when she got home. He couldn't lie to save his life – at least not well enough to get past Nadia. Better for her not to know.

She would use Friday or another system to break the encoding on her own. The other files would go to Tony or Shield. Shield didn't need to know any more about her daughter. They were already paranoid about her as it was. Especially with the restrictions and codes Tony had started to mention with the UN. Nadia didn't need another point of control over her life and the less information those people had on her the better.

XxX

"Nadia," She'd stayed on his lap, lightly dozing for a good 10 minutes before he finally spoke, soft but still firm, "Before you mentioned Bucky, how much of that did you actually mean?" He was afraid of what she would say. Worried that she would admit that she meant all of it and they'd have to do something about it.

"I rarely enjoyed what I did." Her voice was quiet as she sat up, still refusing to look at him, "Some of it, yes. A job well done meant I would get something other than nutrition packs, or wouldn't be sent to the seduction unit." She could feel him squirm at the mention of the brothel, which was why she said it, "But the acts themselves? No. I still did them and I did them well. But I wouldn't say I was ever happy while doing it." If she was going to avoid punishment, then it was better to be mostly honest with him and just come forward. Like they had said, talking about it made them more apt to trust her. Hiding things and lying would only prolong her sentence. Right? Oh how she hoped she was right.

"And about wanting to kill people now? And hallucinations?" Again, the fear but less so this time. He was starting to trust her again.

"I don't want to kill people," The lie slipped out easily as she paired it with a truth, "And I wouldn't call them hallucinations per say. More like," She thought for the word, "Flashbacks, I guess. At random I'll remember something from Hydra and rarely is it pleasant." More like never. Every word she spoke had been a knife digging into her chest, her mind screaming at her to shut up before she was killer or worse. Please let this not be a mistake. Please. Yet it was easing the more she spoke. Was it wrong? Was this just sealing her sentence to life imprisonment?

"Do you want to talk about them?"

"Talking about them doesn't make them go away, Dad." She almost meant it when she used the moniker this time. Was that wrong? Why was she allowing herself to get attached? "It just makes me remember in full and I prefer to not remember or think about my past." She picked up the now cold bun and took a bite.

"Why is that?" It wasn't a mean question or one where he was treating her like she was made of glass. But it certainly was a stupid one.

"Oh, you know, besides being raped, tortured, and constantly afraid that I was going to mess up just enough to earn my death?" Came her scoff, she felt raw, as if she had been ripped open for all to see. But the cracks weren't there and somehow the fear of saying all of this had faded into the background. It was at the door, but from a distance. Waiting to return. He was silent as he waited for her to continue. "Or maybe it's not exactly pleasant talking about how every time I hold a plate or even something circular all I can see is your shield covered in my little brother's blood. His smile each time I killed him. Or maybe," A tear slipped out and the fear was slowly returning as she thought of everything she'd done. According to their moral code, she should be dead or locked away after the atrocities she'd committed. She pressed her lips together in a tight line, "Maybe I just don't want to talk about it – ever." She wasn't sorry about the things she did because their moral codes weren't her's. She didn't care. She didn't care. Right?

A tear from him dripped onto the floor with a soft splash that only her enhanced hearing picked up on. His breathing was more labored despite how hard he was trying not to let himself sniffle. He was crying? Why would he be crying?

Nadia couldn't help but look up at him from beside her, her own tears blurring her vision. "Please, don't make me talk about it." Despite her impaired vision, she could still see the sorrow and care in his face. He loved her. She knew that. But what did that even mean? How far did it go?

"Nadia," He said slowly, trying to keep his voice calm, shameless as a few more tears rolled down his cheeks, "Could I give you a hug?" Somehow she knew it wasn't for him that he wanted this. She could say no. She should say no. Nip whatever this was in the bud. But was it wrong that she wanted to say yes? That for just a moment she wanted to be the kid she'd never been allowed to be? Besides the small handful of times her parents had engaged in kind physical contact, she could only think of one other time in her life. Sweet German words, a lullaby, whispered so low she could barely hear it. A forbidden squeeze. Don't tell anyone.

"Yes." Came out before she could change her mind. Before she knew it, she was wrapped in her father's arms, his warm scent enveloping her as the tears finally escaped her in a small sob. Why did this have to be against everything she ever knew?

"I'm so sorry all of that happened to you, Nadia." One hand wrapped around her shoulders while the other moved in calming circular motions on her back. The repulsion of touch glimmered faintly in the back of her mind, yet the want for kind touch was stronger. Humans may be terrible, but she was starting to believe that maybe there were some exceptions. "I understand not wanting to talk about it. After the war and going into the ice, I didn't think talking about it would help. But sometimes it does. I'm not saying you have to or that we'd make you. Just something to consider." He gave her a small squeeze, "We love you, I love you, Nadia. You don't have to do this alone."

It wasn't that easy. It never would be. Attachments were weaknesses and even if she wasn't willing to outright admit it, she had that weakness growing by the day.

Nadia pulled away, her dad allowing her without complaint, and rose. She offered a hand to help him up, ignoring the tears on both of their faces, "I'm done all this mushy stuff. Can we please go shoot something?"

"How about ice cream instead?" He smiled, grabbing her hand and pulling himself up. Then thought, "I did see that a new ax throwing place opened a couple weeks ago. Reckon you want to try it out?"

Nadia smiled, "Sure. We can even pretend that we won't both hit the targets perfectly after one minute of practice."

"We'll see about that." Steve winked before pulling out his phone, "Mom should be done at the convention soon, maybe we'll have her meet us there?"

"Sounds good. I'm going to go shower first." With that, Nadia left to do as she said, a smile trying to tug at her lips. Maybe this wasn't wrong. Just maybe.

XxX

They were on their way home, the flash drives hidden neatly away when Nat got the text from Steve and a small smile played on her features. She'd been doing that more now with him and Nadia. Was she growing soft as she got accustomed to this more domestic way of life? Not that she'd be willing to admit yet.

"Who's got you smiling like a school girl with a crush?" Clint smirked at her from the driver's seat, far too pleased with himself over the turn of phrase. Mike had left after they'd finished debriefing in a secure location and was on his way back to semi-retirement with mentions of a grandkid's dance recital, so they were alone and able to speak freely.

Natasha rolled her eyes, planning to let him in on the contents of the text, "Steve -"

"Ah ha, I knew you liked him!" Clint crowed before looking at her mischeviously with an eyebrow wiggle, "I'll admit, if I wasn't a married man and had any interest in men, I'd be interested too, Nat."

"Not what I was going to say, Barton." The super spy punched him in the shoulder and not very lightly, "Steve's taking Nadia to a new ax throwing place that's 20 minutes from the apartment and I was going to invite you before you decided to get on my nerves."

"Ha! You can't back out of the invite now. Laura is visiting her grandmother with the kids so you're stuck with me." There was a moment of silence in the car before Clint asked, "But really, do you have any interest in him?"

Natasha stayed quiet for a moment, Clint was her closest friend and someone she trusted with more than just her life. But sometimes that didn't make certain things easier to say, "Not like a school girl if that's what you're getting at." She paused again, "But I do have an interest in him. Something that I honestly don't know how to explain."

"You love him."

She wasn't going to respond to that and even if she wanted to she wouldn't know how.

A/N: And as promised here's another chapter for the weekend! :D Reviews are always appreciated. :3