*Natasha's POV*

Why was I crying?

Why the hell was I crying?!

I'm a trained Assassin who isn't supposed to have emotions. What would Madame B do to m-.

I can't think of her- or what she did to me. I can't!

The thought of that woman made my heart throb. I started to hyperventilate. The lack of oxygen made my chest burn. 'Oh god, it hurts so bad.' Hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I sat against my bed not even bothering to wipe them away. What was the point? They just kept coming. The past hurts... and mine is an un-describable pain. It's something that just thinking about causes all the pain of cuts and bruises from years ago to return.

"Nat?" I internally groaned. They can't just leave me alone, can they?

"Nat?" Clint called again. I really didn't feel like answering.

"Tasha...?" I broke at the pure worry in his tone. "What." My voice cracked with emotion. "Tasha I want to talk." "I don't think I want to."

"Please," he begged. "I want to talk to you."

I laid my head back in annoyance. 'Leave me the hell alone,' I wanted to say.

"Naaaaaat."

I cringed as he yelled my name. Groaning, I got up from my spot and opened the door. As soon as I creaked it open, Clint smirked. "See? Being annoying gets me places." "Yeah- it gets you what you want." "Exactly," he replied simply.

I just sighed. "What'd you want." "To talk to you..." "I'm fine." "No you're not Tasha..." "Yes. I am," I said sitting down on my bed. "You're upset." It wasn't a question. He knew it. We'd been like family since we met. We knew everything about each other- would practically read each other's minds.

It was silent for a moment.

"Nat... what'd you see in there?" "Things I didn't want to see..." I said bitterly. "Well? Talk to me. We've always been able to talk about our shitty lives." His voice had slight humor in it. I took a deep breath. " I-I saw my past... and I think I saw who my father is... like when they... they took me." "...Who was he?" "I-Ivan Romanoff." Clint thought for a moment and walked over to the computer I had in my room. It was one Fury gave to me. I'm 99% sure Stark made it and he just regifted it. It was a nice computer though. You could look up anything about anyone and it would show up.

Clint typed something in then turned to me.

"This him?" My heart dropped. "Y-yes that's him..." a picture of him was on the screen. He had a small smile on his face and he just seemed... happy. Like he enjoyed life. The complete opposite of the terror in his eyes while I was taken by that woman. "I found you on here but I can't find his wife... I'm sorry Nat..." "It's...It's fine Clint."

"Are you ok?"

For a moment, I didn't know what to say. Yes? No not really... No? Well kind of. In a way, it was a good thing I found my father. But... did I really want to see how he died? How I ended up like-...like- me?

He stood up and hugged me.

"Nat?"

I hugged him back, thankful for the gesture.

"I-I will be..."

hopefully.
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Words- 567

Happy early thanksgiving :))))

Edited