Natasha's POV

We've made it to Hope. She sees us coming and rushes to help. Tony is eased to the ground where Hope inspects his ankle before declaring it broken. With Thor's help she takes Tony inside the rather large cave used as shelter. It's warm and dry inside a warm fire flickering in the dark. Shadows dance on the wall flickering in and out, shifting in size, and singing their silent song. Wet beyond belief and tired I collapse onto the ground almost as soon as I cross the threshold. Strong arms lift me up with efficient and gentle power. My lungs feel sore and it's like cotton has been shoved down my throat preventing me from breathing.

I can feel the heat of the fire bounce off of my skin but it's warmth isn't felt. With drooping eyelids I roboticaly watch the fire. I'm so disoriented I can't even pick out a single flame to study in the orange mass.

"You okay?" It's Steve. The others have grudgingly taken up residence by another fire I'm assuming Hope started. Within an instant they are out exhaustion completely taken them over.

"Don't sugar coat it. You're just like Tony. You want answers, and you deserve them." I laughed bitterly.

"Actually I don't. I could care less really." I could tell without looking up he was serious. He was always sincere, him and Scarrlet always. Even Clint had his moments but they were always genuine. With a jolt I jerked my head back over to the group. Leaping to my feet I counted each of them. Thor, Clint, Bruce, Tong, and Hope, and... "What is it?"

"Scarrlet's missing!" I whispered urgently. He shook his head in disbelief.

"She was with us." But even as he said that he counted our rag tag group the realization morphing his features. Without waiting I pushed past him out into the rain and sludge feeling it's cold fingers again. Picking the way we came I ran, my breath becoming quick and sharp.

"Natasha!" Steve called. Pausing I skidded in the mud. Left or right...left. Taking off I slid down a muddy bank only to stumble and topple down. Mud was everywhere and I had completely lost my bearings. Rocks jabbed my body and trees clawed at my skin. I stopped when something firm latched onto the back of my jacket. With a grunt I was pulled to my feet. "I got you."

An over whelming panic spread through my veins. How could we have been so stupid? How did we not notice? "We have to find her!"

"I know but we can't be reckless." His voice was firm and commanding. My panic instantly faded. Nodding I waited as he scanned the area. The wind slowed and the rain receded slightly. The storm must be coming to an end. "Follow me."

I responded instantly and each time he pulled slightly ahead I felt this compulsion to close that distance as much as possible. Strange, when had that developed? The minutes passed painstakingly slow and we found nothing not until Steve tripped and went skidding down a slope. Worried I carefully followed him. By the time I got down to where he was he had gotten a foothold. "Steve?"

"Look." His attention had been caught by a smattering of red on the trunk of a tree. The mud at the base of the tree was pushed aside and indented as if something or someone was resting in it. Gasping I darted to examine the scene praying it wasn't what I thought. As I neared my fear grew in ferocity. Dropping to my knees I studied the indent in the ground. There were faint impressions but the most significant was a half worn out foot print. The crossings and pattern were familiar and it felt like lead had filled my stomach.

"No...no. Steve it was her!" I couldn't keep the tears from spilling over but luckily the ran disguised them well enough. By the sadenned look on his face he had come to the same conclusion I had. Bowing my head in defeat I sobbed. She had been my sister, my friend, the one who was always there. When she needed me I had disappeared.

"Nat." Steve's hand rested on my shoulder without hesitation that even Clint showed when he touched me. I turned away. I wouldn't let him see my tears. Through blurry vision I almost missed it. Another small impression different from Scarrlet's. Shifting to see what it was my heart almost stopped in its tracks. The code was etched in the mud with care. It was a warning, a sign. Leaping back I slammed into Steve hard. "What? What is it."

"They took her. They took her and it's my fault." Steve observed the numbers and ran his foot through them erasing the mark.

"Who took her?" He asked. It was a careful question one trying to gain information but not force fully. Sooner or later you're going to have to tell them. Scarrlet's words rang in her ears almost as if she were standing right next to her. She didn't want to. She couldn't. It would spark memories she didn't want to relive. But they needed to know, he needed to know. She had lost one friend to her selfishness what if he was next.

"Some old friends." I snarled. "The people who made the monster I am today. The girl who hates to feel, who speaks without thinking, who keeps secrets, who hurts without guilt."

Tilting his head Steve rested his back against the tree observing her. "You think you're a monster?"

"I know I am." Averting my gaze I slid my back down the tree sitting next to him.

"Who told you that?" He asked real concern dripping from his voice. "They did. The people that took Scarrlet."

He nodded and we sat in silence for a moment. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He seemed content he didn't ask for more information, he didn't like and prod for information. He accepted what I gave him and whatever he wanted to know was a selfish desire to him and he pushed if aside for my benefit. I guess he had been doing that since the day he met her. It didn't seem...fair. With a sigh I closed my eyes.

"When I was little my parents were killed. I was angry at the world at Hitler and the war for stealing my family. He stole my life, my mother, my father, my world. Each night I dreamed of having the chance to face him and confront him for his crimes. I-"

"Nat you don't have to tell me anything." Steve whispered.

"I know but if anyone deserves to know it all it's you." He provided a sad smile as his response. "I got into stealing things, causing havoc and chaos because I was desperate and angry. One day when it was raining I was hiding out in this small run down building having just stolen from an older man. He followed me but I was quicker and younger. The wind and rain, much like the storm we just witnessed, shook the building and sprayed water through the cracks of the building. I didn't realize it until it was to late but the man had followed me and when I noticed his angry face looming over me I was trapped. I shook, in fear, and from the cold. But he studied me his face still an angry mess. But it changed. He smiled a mischievous going in his eye. Offering his hand I took it but I was aware of the danger. He recognized my fear and was careful to avoid movements that would frighten me. I was taken to his house where I was fed and cared for. The first few days were rocky I was quiet and very much of a wild kid. Over time though I grew to love him. He filled the empty void of affection I felt. Only my stunts had caught the attention of an organization." I sighed taking a deep breath. This was harder than I thought it would be. My whole being was telling me to stop. I'd been trained to only offer up a tiny bit of information the necessary amount. I had to remind myself that this is as easy as it's going to get.

"I hated Hitler too you know. I met him in person once and punched him so hard I almost knocked off his mustache." He laughed at the memory and it drew a smile to form on my lips. He's such a dork.

"Anyways they contacted us. My new...father had been retired from the Soviet military for a while but they called him to duty again. He didn't want to leave me alone but the organization said that they had a boarding school I could go to. I had never really gotten the chance to go to school back home. So when it was time for him to leave we took a walk like we did every morning. It was winter but neither of us cared. He gave me a locket to remember my old family and my new one. He had found an old picture of me and my parents and decided to put it to use." My fingers absent mindedly brushed my neck where a ghost of a feeling of the chain lingered.

"Was that the locket in the blue box?" He asked. I nodded. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He was trying to put the puzzle together.

"When he left I was sent to the school only it wasn't exactly a normal school. There were all girls. All of them cold and almost callouse when I arrived. I was taken to the principles office and they explained everything. I was told that they had been monitoring my movements for quiet some time and were extremely impressed by my talents. They said that despite my age I had an extreme knack for stealth and self defense. They later explained that this was a school to enhance those skills. To train the youth to be able to perform the impossible. To create a world where bad men like Hitler wouldn't exist. It was a lot to take in. I didn't quite understand everything but I was told that if I performed well enough I met get a chance to destroy the man who destroyed my life. It was all I needed to hear. The first few days I was given a period of time to adjust. As soon as the training started though it was rigorous and intense. Something my thin little body wasn't used to. I was made fun of by the teachers ,poked at by the students, and all I had was my anger. A drive to be better than they ever could." I laughed. "I guess I still have that drive."

"It's what makes you, you." He said with a simple shrug. I felt a certain warmth spread in my chest. He was so accepting and understanding. He didn't ask questions, never interjected, never made a big deal out of my misfortune, and best of all he didn't pity me.

"But I worked so hard that I made myself sick. It was almost like an obsession. The principle had to hire a therapist and it worked, but I was forced to watch movies. Princess movies." I shuddered at the thought. "It sounds ridiculous but we were forced to watch them to study how to act. On the outside at least. We were to portray timid weak minded girls. I hated the thought of it but I developed the skill of lying and faking better than any of the other girls. I was told it was because I had a strong mind the natural ability to separate my performance from reality. After that, I was the number one priority on everyone's list. They were mean, they bullied me, beat me, sabotage after sabotage I suffered. And all of the teachers and principles watched. I knew why though. They were watching me, testing me. How long could I last?" A pause.

"One day in the cafeteria a girl that all of the others feared approached me. I had beaten her on all of the exams that day and in our fire arms class I took down twice the amount of targets than she did. She wasn't used to being second and she didn't like it. So there I was just watching the glares on the other girls faces when my head was slammed into the table from behind. I knew exactly who it was. I couldn't breath and as pathetic as it sounds I was suffocating in my own meal. She didn't let me up. But I still had my hands. I grabbed the knife from the table and using the blunt end have her between the ribs. I was up in an instant coughing and choking food blurring my vision.. The girl was on me in an instant and I was thrown over the table. I couldn't see anything all I felt were fists, but I remembered what I was taught I used my senses. I felt the shift of her weight and threw her off balance. Wiping my eyes I let loose a storm. She couldn't land a hit. I was slippery like a snake in and out. I sealed the deal when I pounced on her back wrapping my legs around her throat and slinging us to the ground. I ended up dislocating her shoulder and breaking three ribs before they pulled us apart."

"How old were you?" Steve asked his eyebrows raised.

"Ten." He laughed and I felt a small bit of weight lift from my shoulders. "After that I was completely separated from everyone. I was taken to a room labeled 2813x."

"That's the number that we keep seeing. It's a message isn't it. Something you don't want to remember." I nodded closing my eyes. It was like I was there all over again.

"We should head back. We've wasted time." He stood helping me up and I sighed. I needed to organized my thoughts. We walked slowly in silence for what felt like hours. " I lived there completely secluded. It was only me and I had a specific schedule and I trained harder and more vigorously than ever before. Until the day I was taken back into this room. It was terrible."

I told him of the procedure. The pain and sterilization, all of it flooding my memory and I could keep my eyes from brimming with tears. " I didn't realized what they meant until later."

"They stole something that wasn't theirs to take." Steve hissed. It was a sudden change of emotion on his part. "I can't imagine what it's been like, not being able to have something more important to you than anything else. How do you do it? How were you able to look at Clint and his family?"

"I tell him to appreciate what he has, to never let it go." I had always told him that. " Then it came down to how much could she tolerate. They interrogated me like I was an enemy. Tortured me to see if I would hold against severe pain. They told me how to avoid questions get under the enemies skin. Next I had to watch hours of tape. Assassins like me killing and murdering. I analyzed them and pointed out their flaws. When I was perfect in their eyes I was forced to kill someone. I had to prove my worth, that I had enough guts to finish the job. I did it, and I thought that would be the worst thing I could have ever done. I was wrong on so many levels. Soon I was placed back in the other classes as an example to the others only this time I was treated like a hero, like a God and I knew I didn't deserve it. I had killed a man. Over time I became numb, taught not to feel, to act on instinct, rely on intelligence and stealth, adapt to all situations, play my role for as long as need be, to put aside my morals and disgust. Sometimes I still remember the things I had to do. They wake me up at night." I breathed a sigh of relief.

"One time I...was supposed to pretend to be romantically involved with one of my targets. I needed to get the information first but he was hard to crack. He...he used me for personal needs. That's when I figured out what they meant by sterilization. I eventually blew my cover but I was punished. They said I was weak, that I was one insignificant tool at their disposal. My mother used to tell me that was only for people you loved."

"Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped." Steve insisted concern and sorrow swimming in his voice.

"You can't fight memories Steve." I laughed bitterly. "That's shy I hated that stupid box. It reopened all of my memories I had locked them away where I thought they couldn't come back."

"So all of the things in that box were yours?" He asked pitting bits together in my elegant puzzle of despair.

"Yes. I knew the moment I heard that girl's story what had happened to her and who had done it. I had been called on a secret mission years ago and discovered labs everywhere trying to recreate your serum. When she said people were being taken away and coming back different I new it was my old training grounds. The Red Room.". Only you thought they wouldn't come for you. They wouldn't find you eventually."A few years after I left the program shut down. I destroyed the labs, thought that I was seeing things and they weren't back, I thought I was safe."

"Only you aren't. They're back now and they know where you are. But why do they want you?" He asked.

"I don't know. I've been trying to figure that out for a long time. Revenge for leaving and aiding their destruction, wanting their beloved prodigy back? I just...it feels like I don't know anything anymore. I'm always in control, always prepared, but now I'm not." A single tear spilled down my cheek as all of my suppressed emotions surfaced. The fear and anxiety that no one understood. "I don't want to go back."

Steve stopped grabbing me by the shoulders so that I faced him. His eyes searched mine, the pain etched on my face reflected in his eyes. "I'm scared." Without warning he embraced me. It was a small sign of comfort and affection but it had been so long since I had felt anything like it. It was genuinely and pure. I remembered our midnight escapade, the day he said he trusted me, the times he would just listen, when I helped him fix his motorcycle, the day he gave me his umbrella in the rain, when I planned his birthday and made a point of how old he was. All of these memories, old and recent, flooded my mind.

"We're going to figure this out and it's going to be fine." He sounded sure and I believed him, I wanted to so bad. You don't understand. They won't stop until they have me back. Whatever the reason it doesn't matter, they want me. They took Scarrlet and I'm going to find her and bring her back. I'm not putting anyone else in danger again. That's when I made up my mind. I was leaving when Steve fell asleep. This was something I had to do alone. So I clung to him for as long as I dared knowing this could possibly be the last time I would feel the warmth of a hug, and the comfort of somebody I lo...somebody who cared for me.

Hey guys! Thought you would like to know but I made an Instagram account. I'll post updates on my stories and talk to you guys. You can ask questions and give suggestions I hope I see some of my lovely readers! Follow me at : the_writers_cave