I Can Take You Home (A Romanogers Fanfic) COMPLETED

Natasha

"I need you to kill him, Romanoff."

  "I...I can't."

  "Why not?" The voice grew angrier. "You have been hesitant to kill ever since last month. What is wrong with you?"

  "You killed my sister." That was a lie. But also part of the reason.

  "And?"

  "I...I...just can't. Not after I saw how you killed her. I'm done with the Red Room, Madame."

  "Oh, is that so?"

  She recognized the warning tone in Madame B's voice. The danger in it. Nobody says no to Madame B. Not even the most deadliest assassin who took on the title Black Widow. She took a step back, and ran down the hallways of the Red Room.

  "You can never run away, Natalia."

  Gunshots. She crashed to the floor and clutched her ankle, where a bullet had gone through. Blood started pooling around her foot. She looked up when something cold touched her forehead. She knew that feeling too well. Slowly, she raised her gaze to see Madame B crouching in front of her.

  "You go capture the boy, or..." The woman's finger squeezed the trigger slighty, and the injured girl held her breath. But nothing came. "Bang bang. You're dead."

  The girl gulped and nodded. She had no choice.

  "Now, go find him, spy."

  The girl slowly backed away, and when Madame B eased back up, she seized the chance lunged for the gun.

  Bang.

  "Is that all you've got, little Natalia?" Madame B sneered as the girl wheezed, her hands scrabbling at her torn cheek. She shook her head sadly. "I thought I've trained you better than this. Such a shame." Her smile widened. "And you call yourself the Black Widow. Yelena could've done a better job. Too bad you've killed her off."

  "W-What?"

  "Oh, don't you know, Romanova?" Madame B grasped the girl's chin and squeezed, her fingers digging into the soft, cold skin. "That was just a random girl, set up to look just like your dear sestra. The one you killed the other day, that was your real sister. What a pity, what a pity."

  The girl screamed and thrashed. She lashed out and caught the old woman in the stomach, her movements so sudden and violent that it sent the merciless woman flying.

  The woman screamed, and footsteps were heard as the other instructors came thundering down the hallway.

  The girl, Natalia Alianovna Romanova, crawled to an empty room, threw open a window, and jumped down into the night.

  And she ran. She ran and ran, away from the Red Room.

  The next day, as a group of instructors hovered over a system, trying to track down the spy's exact location, she was not found anywhere in Russia.

  "She's injured, she must have not gone far," Madame B growled. "Find her, we couldn't lose her. She's one of the greatest assassins there is."

  "But Madame, surely we could replace her with Ms. Belova."

  "Shut up, mudak. She doesn't know her sister's alive." Madame B slammed her fists down on the tracking system. "If we really cannot find her, then release all the Black Widows. Send them out to every corner of the world. We must find her."

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Clint Barton. It's been years since the spy had seen him. She wondered if he still remembered her. She had his address; she was pretty sure he still lived at the same location.

  When she landed in the deserted airport during midnight, her whole body ached. Her ankle was getting worse and she had simply stitched up the hole in her cheek with a needle and a thread from her jacket she had in her pocket.

  When the women came, they came in waves.

  Black Widows.

  She should have known. She couldn't escape from them. Couldn't escape from the Red Room. She had known it since she was a child.

  She braced herself as the first Widow approached her.