Natasha Romanoff One Shots

A Second Chance To Make Things Right

"Back up might be needed," he muttered into his communicator, as she swung her leg round and kicked him to the ground.

He gasped for breath. She straddled him and aimed the empty gun at his head. He knocked it out of her hands and flipped them over, holding her beneath them.

"Never mind, back up not needed," he murmured into the comm.

He aimed his last arrow at her, straight at her heart and got ready to release it. But when he looked into her eyes, he couldn't make himself kill her. She had the eyes of someone who had been controlled all her life and knew that if she didn't die, that was what would happen for the rest of her life. The eyes of a trained assassin. Someone who had lived, but never really lived. Eyes like his, when he'd first been offered a job by the people who had tried to kill him, an escape from the life he'd lived.

"Do it. I dare you. Please," she begged. "Kill me."

He released the arrow. But he didn't aim it at her. He aimed it at the wall. He heard her breath catch as she realised that she wasn't going to die. She seemed a little disappointed. He ground his teeth.

"Come back with me," he offered. "You can have a job, an escape. You'll have a better reason to kill. They'll send people to save you if you get caught. I'll help you."

"Why?" It was the first thing that entered her mind. Why would he do this for someone who he had tried to kill. Who had tried to kill him. Who had killed so many others that her ledger was gushing red like a waterfall. "Why would you do that?"

"Why?" He asked. "Because I've been in your situation before. I grew up with men who killed for fun, with fake names such as Bobo the Clown or Roger the Ringmaster, disguised as part of a travelling circus. I took part in these activities. They brainwashed me, saying they were the good guys and anyone who disagreed was bad. I believed them. But then I was told to kill a man who had worked on the opposite side to me for all his life. He told me that there was no such thing as good or bad, regardless of your reason to kill. I shot him dead. But I started to believe the man I'd killed. I ran away. I joined SHIELD. And I killed again and again but this time with the better side. There's no such thing as the good side and the bad side in war. It's the better side and the worse side." He grinned at her. "So whaddaya say? Will you come with me?"

He saw the look of temptation in her eyes and body language. He knew that he had to make her agree. He couldn't not and then be at ease with himself. He'd be beating himself up everyday.

"Won't you get in trouble?" she asked.

"You've already changed. You're asking after my safety that my boss won't kick me out and wipe me if I bring you in. Yes, I'll be in loads of trouble. No, I don't care and yes, it'll be worth it," he said. "Coming?"

"Why the hell not?" She grinned for the first time and he felt better already.

Three days later, they walked into SHIELD base and were surrounded by agents with guns. Director Nick Fury stepped forward.

"Barton, what were your orders?" He asked.

"Kill Romanova and don't come back until you do," he recited.

"No, don't call me that," she said quietly, standing beside Barton stiffly, poised like she was ready for a fight.

"You don't like your name?" Fury said, arching an eyebrow.

"No. They chose it for me. I don't want to have anything to do with them ever again." She glared at Fury. "You can take me wherever you like. Just don't call me Natalia Romanova."

Fury thought for a minute. "Agreed."

She smiled and held out her wrists for them to handcuff. One did, quickly, stepping back before she could hurt the agent. Another agent stepped forward, looking quite a bit more commanding and senior. She led the red headed killer down the narrow hallway, the walls a shining white. Natalia squinted as the light hit her full on before her eyes became accustomed to it.