The Widow's Daughter - A MCU Fanfiction

Chapter One

NATASHA'S POV

I sat by the window of my bedroom and looked out upon the freshly mowed grass. Tony made sure that the lawn was mowed every week. I was never entirely sure why, its not like any of us cared about the landscape of the Avenger's Compound. We had more important things to think about.

"Romanoff! You coming down or what?" A loud voice called up into my room.

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming," I yelled back down, pulling on my light gray sweatpants and heading out the door.

"You're so impatient Steve," I said as I came down the grand stairs and into the oversized kitchen. Tony really didn't spare any expense on this place. Bright fluorescent lights bounced off the glossed marble countertops, brightening the room up with its glow as I took a seat on one of the wooden bar stools.

"Well I wanted to know how many eggs to make," he smiled, the small dimples on his cheeks showing. I couldn't help but smile back.

"None for me thanks, not really hungry," I said as I picked up the day's newspaper. I didn't read the news often, simply because the news was usually sad or traumatic of some sort.

"If you're sure," he said, effortlessly flipping an omelet over.

"Mmmhmm," I mumbled as I scanned the small print. Economy, crime, government. Nothing new. Frustrated, I sat the paper down and fumbled with the edges of it. As I ran my finger across the thin edges, my phone buzzed, startling me.

"It's a bit early isn't it?" I grumbled, pulling my phone out of my sweatshirt pocket.

"CONFERENCE ROOM- ASAP," the message read. I glanced at Steve, who was also reading the text on his phone. He looked up at me, a minor look of concern painted on his face. He took the food out of the pan, turned the stove off, and followed me out of the kitchen.

"Wonder what it is this time?" I casually ask as we make our way across the massive length of the compound.

"No idea, but Tony wouldn't message so early if it weren't urgent," he replied, his face frozen and impossible to read. I loved Steve, but when it came to what he was feeling, he didn't have much to show. I nod and follow him into the conference room.

We weren't the first ones to get there. Bucky, Wanda, and Bruce had beat us there, already sitting around the oval-shaped table, sharing a light and casual conversation.

"Morning," I smiled, taking at the table. More and more of the avengers filed into the large room before Tony made his appearance.

"We have a situation in Belarus," Tony started, taking a seat at the head of the table and pulling off his shades. He shoved a yellow folder across the table, allowing photographs to scatter across the surface of the table. Images of crushed cars and broken buildings slid their way in front of me. This is why I hate the news.

"What is it?" Bucky asked, carefully examining a photograph of an overturned bus.

"No idea. All we know is that there have been sightings of a young figure, dressed in all black that has been at the scene of each incident."

"Can I see that?" I ask Tony, indicating the small polaroid photo in his hand. He nods, sliding it towards me. I stop it with my hand, focusing on the figure in the photograph. They were small in stature, their face covered with a black ski mask. I ran my finger across the image, looking at each and every detail. Dark realization hit me like a blow to the chest as I realized what exactly I was looking at.

"This is a widow," I stammer, dropping the picture back onto the table. Time froze around me like a spinning top falling off its balance.

"A what now?" Sam asked, pulling the picture towards him. Steve looked at me, this time his expression clear. Concern spread across his face as his eyes met mine.

"A black widow assassin. From the Red Room, where Nat was trained," Clint said, his hand grabbing mine as my mind flooded with dark memories that I wished I could forget about.