Black Widow: An Origin Story

Name's Natalia

A few weeks had gone by since that evening, and things had changed. Bucky distrusted me even more, and the others followed suit. Steve never wavered though. And I was grateful for it, though I never let it show.

I hadn't seen hide nor hair of the KGB and it set me on edge. I knew they didn't take traitors lightly.

They were generally killed, though I knew they wouldn't kill me. I was too valuable.

"Matthers?" Steve asks, jarring me from my thoughts.

"Yes?"

"Are you good with the plan?"

"Yes," I reply, almost instantly. Now, what exactly was the plan?

"Care to repeat what I said?" he questions, eyebrow raised. He knew I hadn't heard it.

I look around the table at the Howling Commandos and Agent Carter. She looked a bit sympathetic, the others more suspicious.

"I don't think I need to. I understood it the first time." I cross my arms over my chest, crossing my legs and leaning back in the chair.

"See, she doesn't know what it is," Bucky says, standing up and moving my way. "There's something about you that makes me want to kill you," he snarls in my face. "I know you were sent to kill Steve! I was there when that man, that Alexei, said it!"

He's quickly pulled away before it becomes physical. I fight to force all the mind-paralyzing memories back, hiding behind the blank face of the Widow.

"I think it's time we all calm down," Steve commands sternly, releasing his grip on Bucky, who shakes in anger and frustration.

It's silent for several moments before Dugan speaks up.

"Is it true?"

Steve looks to me, but I remain unmoving.

"It is. All of it," Bucky snarls. "She was sent to kill him. She's an assassin."

Steve sighs softly. I could tell he had no clue what to do.

"Sit down before I physically have to do it for you," he finally says.

"And what's worse, is you letting her be. What part of assassin don't you understand?!"

I watch as Steve backs him up until he sits in the chair, quite unhappy.

"If I had my way, you'd be dead already."

"That's enough," Steve snaps, his Captain America voice bringing the room to complete silence. He looks to me once again for guidance. I shrug.

"I trust her."

I couldn't stop the surprise from taking over my features.

Bucky's eyes nearly pop out of his head.

"Steve, don't you think it might be wise to tell the Colonel?" Dernier asks.

"The Colonel does not need to know anything," he responds, his shoulders tense as he fights to keep his cool. "I don't care that she was sent to kill me. She's a damn good fighter and we're lucky to have her. You WILL treat her with respect. She's saved your lives. Do I make myself clear?"

They nod, though I knew they didn't want to agree.

"That goes for you as well, Barnes."

The man in question glares at me, and I hold his gaze, my calm front unwavering. He eventually looks away, though I knew this was far from over.

"Fine," he says, throwing his hands in the air.

"Now, can we get back to the mission? It's a big one and we cannot afford to mess it up."

They all grumble an agreement.

"Do you know what your part of the mission is?"

"I got a little sidetracked," I mumble.

"See, she doesn't even—"

A glare from Steve quiets him.

"You'll be with me tomorrow. We go in first and our job is to find any and all information we can, then we'll blow it up."

"Are you sure that's wise, Cap? After all, it seems your team would prefer I not be anywhere near you. Afraid I might actually kill you," I smirk.

"Then let's get this all out in the open, shall we?"

I make no move to talk. 

"Natalia," he warns.

"My name is Natalia. I was sent to kill him. I didn't. Happy?"

The room is deathly silent. The true reason for my being there finally unveiled to the group.

"You sure do have a way with words," Steve chuckles. "That's the gist of it. And that's all that matters. She's here because she cannot go back to where she's from. Leave her be and accept her as your teammate. I will take responsibility for her actions should there be any of question. Now, if everyone knows what they're doing tomorrow, go rest. We're going to need it. Romanova, stay. The rest of you are dismissed."

The room clears quickly, though I figured some of them would stick close by, to protect their fearless leader.

He's quiet for several moments and I watch him carefully. I knew he wouldn't hurt me, couldn't more like. His shoulders slump, curving over and it ages him greatly. I find myself moving towards him before I can stop myself.

"You didn't have to do that. You could've let them arrest me or something," I mutter.

"Laura..." He shakes his head. "What do I even call you?"

"Natasha is fine. Natalia is dead. Or buried. I never liked the name Laura. Doesn't suit me, but what could I do when they gave me orders?"

He chuckles. "Well, Natasha, you haven't been a cause for concern, though I do intend to keep a close eye on you, as I'm sure the others will too. I think you deserve a second chance."

"I'm not really worth it," I reply, looking him directly in the eye. "I deserve to die. The world would be better off for it."

His eyes reflect the concern his body shows. "I don't think that's true. But that's not what I want to discuss."

I was curious now. What did he want to talk about?

I lean against the table, waiting for him to begin.

"Are you alright?"

Huh?

"I saw you freeze when Bucky mentioned Alexei. I figure it must be a rough subject. And considering what he did to you when you were caught, I can only imagine what he's done."

I didn't want to talk about any of this now. Or ever. I don't talk about my past. That was no one's business but my own.

"You don't have to talk about it," he says quickly, noticing my sudden icy demeanor. "I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

I move away from him, distance the only thing keeping me from cracking.

"No one has ever asked me that before," I finally say.

I can feel his surprise at that revelation from across the room. But before he can say anything else, I'm out the door, revealing Bucky and Peggy on the other side. They quickly stand straight and I walk by, completely unfazed, retiring to my room, skipping dinner. I wasn't really hungry anyway.

I hated feeling weak around that man. I never opened up to anyone. I was better than that. He was just so good that I couldn't resist.

No matter, I would be better. I would bury that weakness. No one would get to me. Not anymore. I was done letting him in.

I slip into the small cot and take out the gleaming silver cuffs, clicking one around my wrist and the other to the leg of the cot before drifting off into a fitful sleep.