Chapter 2

"Where did you get this?" Clark asked as he looked at the file on the table. He hadn't moved to touch it, when in truth all he wanted was to tear it into nothingness. Natasha's past was just that, her past and no one else's. But the fact that his parent's had it meant that they were in danger. Or Natasha was. Clark knew that with her reputation she could have no shortage of enemies, enemies that he was sure would not hesitate to use his family to go after her. Whatever this was, it had placed people he cared for at risk, and Clark swore to himself that he would die before any harm came to anyone else he cared for. He had lost too much already. Before he could continue that train of thought his phone rang.

"Yes?"

"Did you receive what I sent you?"

"Who is this? What do you want with me?"

"I am a friend. All I want is for you to know who you are dealing with."

"I know all I need to know. Now whoever you are, listen carefully...back off. Stay away from me and my family, and stay away from Natasha Romanoff. She deserves her privacy."

"Some would argue that privacy-"

"Oh spare me the anti-government crap. Come near any of us again, and I will find you. When I do, I will turn your entire world upside down, and I promise you that you will never see it coming." He finished, slamming his phone shut before picking up the file.

"Son, do you-"

"Don't start dad. Natasha Romanoff defended this planet against an alien invasion, and a rogue SHIELD. That deserves some respect." He said, and then he turned and walked upstairs.

Hours later while Clark slept, Jonathan and Martha Kent remained awake discussing what these revelations could mean for them and their son.

"I don't like it Martha. I've read up on SHIELD. If half of what they say is true..."

"I know Jonathan, but Clark does have a point. Natasha Romanoff did help the Avengers save the world. I think for now we should give her the benefit of the doubt." Martha said, and Jonathan nodded.

"Fine, but if she comes after Clark then we will expose her."

"Got a sec?"

Natasha looked up, smiling as she saw Clark standing there. Her smile faded when he walked inside and placed a file on her desk, her blood turning to ice as she saw the name on the cover.

"I didn't open it. My parents did. It was sent to them. I convinced them to keep it quiet, and this is the only copy."

"Thank you. Any idea who sent it?"

"Someone called, and said they were my friend. They told me they wanted me to know who I was dealing with."

Natasha looked down, but Clark's next words had her looking into his eyes again.

"I told them to back off. They won't bother either of us ever again."

Natasha knew there was more to it than that, but at the moment she didn't care. She was just grateful that Clark didn't hate her.

"When I got in today I heard some people talking. Apparently a few of the football players found their cars stacked as high as a Christmas tree. Would you know anything about that?"

"All I know is what people say about payback." He replied, and she laughed both of them thinking the same thing.

Payback was a real pain.

"I'll see you later." He said, stopping when he felt her hand on his arm.

"Clark, is everything okay?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but just then the bell rang.

"Later." He said, and she nodded.

For the rest of the day Natasha found herself distracted, hoping and praying that Clark was okay. It was a relief when her last class ended.

"Mr. Kent, can you stay behind for a moment. We need to talk about the homework you handed in."

Clark didn't say a word, just stayed seated until everyone else had left the room.

"What's wrong? Is it my file? I'm sorry that-"

"No, that's not it at all. You've done nothing wrong Natasha. But I...I think I did."

Natasha hung her head, waiting for the ax to fall. He was regretting helping her last night, regretting dancing with her. If she was honest with herself, Natasha knew that she should regret what happened. She was his teacher, he was four years younger than she was, and she came with too much baggage. He was better off without her. But even knowing all of that she couldn't regret a single second that she had spent with him. Maybe she was crazy, but she also knew that she had never felt happier than she did the previous night.

"I...I killed a man."

Natasha's eyes widened in shock, unable to comprehend what he had just said. She must have misheard. There was no way that Clark Kent had killed anyone. He was too innocent, too good. He was the exact opposite of what she was. She was a killer, an assassin with a ledger that had so much red that she could never hope to wipe it out.

"I'm sorry Natasha I-"

"Clark, wait." She said, trying to stop him from leaving. He had obviously mistaken her silence for condemnation when nothing could be further from the truth. She walked over and sat beside him, turning so she looked him in the eye.

"Now tell me what happened."

"After our dance I went over to the school."

"Where you pulled a prank on Whitney and his boys." She said, fire clear in her eyes. While she wasn't going to go after them herself since Clark had asked her not to, something needed to be done about the Scarecrow tradition. While most people saw it as a prank, it could actually kill someone if the were left hanging for too long. If someone was left strung up in a cornfield they would eventually die of asphyxiation. Even the KGB had deemed death by asphyxiation as too extreme, and there hadn't been much that was too extreme for the KGB. She resisted the urge to shake her head as memories of her training resurfaced, returning her attention to what Clark was saying.

"When I got there I pranked Whitney. I was about to leave when I saw someone tampering with the sprinklers. His name was Jeremy, and he was the Scarecrow the day of the meteor shower. When the meteors hit, he was put in a coma. He woke up, and went after the football players who had picked him as that year's Scarecrow. He put them in the hospital, but revenge wasn't enough for him. He told me that he was doing this for everyone who had ever been a Scarecrow. He said it needed to stop."

"Well he's not wrong, but his methods are extreme to say the least." Natasha commented, and Clark nodded before continuing.

"The meteor shower also let him conduct electricity. He was going to soak everyone with the sprinklers and then he would electrocute them. I tried to talk him down, but he just wouldn't listen. We fought, and he threw me backwards. I picked up a board and swung it at him. It hit and...I sent him through a wall. I waited, and when he didn't come back out I went and checked on him. He was dead. The impact killed him. I...I know I shouldn't have ran, but if I waited for someone to find out what happened I'd have to talk to the cops. I was scared, and I didn't want to end up in a lab. I still am. I mean what was I supposed to do? I couldn't let him hurt anyone." He said, hanging his head in shame.

"You're a good man Clark. You tried to talk him down. You gave him every chance before you stopped him. Yes he died, but you didn't set out to kill him."

"How do you do it? How do you live with this?"

His tone was desperate and pleading, and Natasha felt her heart break as she listened to him. He shouldn't have to deal with this. Clark should be focused on football games and dances and throwing parties, not asking her how to cope with killing a man. But fate wasn't that kind to him. It hadn't been kind to either of them. Intentionally or not, both of them had become killers, both of them far too young. Then again, age didn't really matter. Your first kill was the worst. Natasha remembered her first kill all too well. He had been a traitor, or so she was told. Later, Natasha found out that the man she had killed had spoken out against the KGB. But at twelve years old, the Black Widow didn't ask questions. The seven years of training she endured had seen to that. She had walked up to him, and shot him point blank in the head. Natasha could still see the shock in his eyes when he died. The eyes that would haunt her until her dying day.

But Clark didn't need to hear about her first kill. He needed someone to be there for him, to be a shoulder to cry on, to tell him that everything was going to be okay.

Natasha had been given none of that. She had been given a single nod from her superior in acknowledgment of a job well done, and then she was off on her next assignment. Natasha promised that Clark would not go through what she did. He would not go through this alone.

"You remember that you didn't want to kill him. You remember all the people in the school last night. You saved them all."

"I just-"

His voice broke and tears began streaming down his face. Natasha didn't say a word. Instead she embraced him, holding him as he cried.

"Natasha I'm so-"

"Don't. Don't you dare apologize. Do you understand me?"

He nodded slowly, and she smiled softly.

"Good. Now give me your phone."

A moment later she handed it back, her smile broadening at his questioning glance.

"I'm speed dial three. If you want to talk or you just want company, you call me day or night. Or just show up outside my door."

"Thank you Natasha." He said with a smile. She smiled in return, thinking that she was the one that should be thanking him. Natasha had nearly given up hope that she could have a life without the Black Widow. But in less than forty-eight hours with Clark Kent that hope had been renewed more than she had ever thought possible.

A/N: Thanks to all who have favorited, followed and reviewed this story. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and the next chapter will be up soon!