The moment the bathroom door closed behind Matthew, Calina exhaled a shaky breath. She still felt so disgustingly fragile, as if she was on the verge of collapsing into sobs again.

It hadn't been this bad the first time she'd been freed from the serum.

To be fair, she'd been falling through the sky on a disintegrating fortress, so she'd had other things to distract her from her mental state. But even after that, when she was safe in the house in South Carolina, she hadn't cried.

She'd been upset, of course. Sad, and furious and bewildered. But she'd never broken down like she had tonight. Looking back, all those emotions seemed muted compared to the depth of feeling she was experiencing now.

And maybe they had been. Maybe it had taken a while for her to fully regain all the humanity that had been stolen from her by the Red Room.

Which might explain why tonight felt like more of a violation.

She'd been out of that world.

Free.

A person again. One who was building a fledgeling life, and finding herself after two decades of being nothing but a weapon.

And someone had destroyed that. They'd torn down her house of cards and shown it to be nothing but an insubstantial fantasy.

She'd been kidding herself all this time. She'd been so fucking naive - there was no escaping a past like hers.

And maybe she didn't deserve to.

She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly chilled. She should go next door and change. Wash off the remnants of tonight, pack her things and leave with her sisters...

But she couldn't bear the thought of going next door. It didn't feel like her safe little haven anymore. It was no longer the home she was trying to create....it was the site of her failed dream.

And it was a crime scene. With a dead body on her bedroom floor.

Bile rose at the thought. She tilted her head back and breathed deep, trying to quell her sudden nausea. God, her trainers at the Red Room wouldn't recognise her in this state. She barely recognised herself.

She had killed before - many times.

Her first was at the age of 12. It was standard practice in the Red Room to weed out the weak by pitting the girls against each other in fights to the death. Olga had been her opponent, a scrawny blonde-haired girl who was never quite strong enough; never quite fast enough, or smart enough. The trainers knew it. The other Widows knew it. And Olga knew it. It made her mean and vicious. She always aimed to hurt others during sparring sessions, and would bully the younger girls.

Nobody liked her.

But she didn't deserve to die.

And when Calina had been forced to break her neck, she had spent the rest of the night throwing up and shaking on the dormitory floor. The other girls had tried to cover for her - in a rare show of compassion and solidarity - but the trainers had found out anyway. And she'd been starved for a week as punishment.

The serum stopped that reaction from happening again. When she killed during missions, she did so without remorse - the perfect, soulless weapon.

And when the Red Room had fallen, she had killed again. Free of the serum, she had made the conscious choice to help her sisters eliminate who they thought had been the last of the Red Room personnel. She had pulled the trigger that had ended the life of one of the more sadistic trainers when they'd discovered him hiding out in Bucharest.

It had felt justified. It had felt like justice.

But she still hated doing it. It was one of the reasons she'd walked away from the Widows.

She'd never wanted to kill again.

But tonight she had.

It was another justified kill. The man had entered her home, tied her to the bed and taken control of her mind. If she hadn't killed him, she wouldn't have been able to escape. She would have been compelled to go through with her mission and assassinate the Governor - and probably countless others.

She had taken a life to save a life.

Completely justifiable.

But the memory of that man's eyes as she stole his last breath still made her feel sick.

She walked into the kitchen and filled a glass of water from the sink. She leaned back against the counter as she downed the cool, fresh liquid. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed the nausea to settle. The last thing she wanted to do was throw up in Matthew's apartment after she'd already wrecked the place.

Her eyes flew open at the the sound of glass crunching underfoot. She expected to see Matthew again, but it was Yelena and Anya instead.

"Are you alright?" Yelena asked.

"I'm fine," she lied.

Yelena looked at her sceptically before shrugging. She gestured next door. "We took care of-"

"Speak Russian," Calina hissed in her native language. She took a seat at the dining table and the other two joined her.

Yelena gave her another strange look but complied. "We took care of the body. We didn't recognise him and he had no ID - no surprise there. Anya's going to put his face through her software and see if we get a hit. Did he say anything to you before you...?"

Calina shook her head. "It all happened really fast and I was kind of groggy. I remember he was on the phone to someone. He said 'Nice doing business with you' like he was just a broker or a middle man."

"That fits with what I found on this." Anya held up the tablet. "He wasn't in control of you - someone else was."

"He sounded Russian. And he had access to the serum and knew how to use it. So he must have been part of the Red Room at some point," Calina said.

Just then, the shower stopped, and the three women paused their conversation at the sudden silence in the apartment.

"Remind me again why we're hiding this conversation from Murdock?" Yelena asked, still speaking in Russian. "You told him who we are, right?"

"Yes, but he doesn't need to know that I killed a man tonight. He's a lawyer, remember? I don't want him to be an accessory to that."

It was a partial truth. Yes, she wanted to cover him from a legal standpoint if any of this ever came to light. But she was more concerned with how her actions tonight would further taint his opinion of her.

She didn't want him to think even less of her.

And when she left, she didn't want him to remember her as nothing but a murderer.

———

When Matt emerged from the bathroom, he found Calina and two of the widows sitting at his dining table. They were talking in hushed tones, in a language that sounded like Russian.

The conversation stopped and the three women turned to look at him as he entered his living room, making him feel like an interloper in his own apartment. It was just one more surreal moment in a night full of them.

He heard Calina's quiet gasp as she looked him over. He was wearing a fresh pair of sweats, but his chest was bare. He wasn't sure if it was the scars from his past battles that caused her reaction, or the evidence of tonight's fight - he could feel the fresh bruised across his abdomen, and the knife wound in his chest was still gaping open. He gestured to the kitchen. "I'm just gonna grab some bandages."

Calina quickly stood up. "Wait, I'll get them. There's still glass on the floor and you aren't wearing anything on your feet."

"Calina," Yelena said quietly.

Calina ignored her. She limped into the kitchen and rummaged around under the sink before emerging with the first aid kit. She held it under her injured arm and used the other to guide him through the glass on the floor so he could reach the couch. "Sit down and I'll patch you up," she murmured to him.

"Calina," Yelena said again, louder this time.

Calina perched on the coffee table opposite him and grabbed a set of butterfly strips from the kit. She started applying them across the open wound, but he could feel her hands trembling as she worked. He placed his hand over hers, trying to calm her. "It's okay," he whispered. "I've had much worse - as you can probably see."

She didn't laugh at his joke, or even smile. She just swallowed and whispered back, "I'm so sorry."

"Hey," he said softly. He rubbed his thumb over the back of the hand which was still pressed against his chest. "It's not your fault."

"Calina!"

They both jerked in surprise at Yelena's shout. He'd almost forgotten there were other people in the room. It was as if the world fell away when he concentrated on Calina, his senses only tuned to her.

"We don't have time for this," Yelena said.

"What do you mean?" Calina replied. She smoothed a sterile dressing across his wound then started putting away the supplies.

"We need to go. Katya is packing up your stuff as we speak."

"What?" Calina said.

"We chartered a plane to get here and the return flight is taking off in two hours. We need to go. Now." Yelena and the other widow - Anya, he recalled - got to their feet.

"What?" Calina repeated, shaking her head in confusion.

"Calina, you're coming back with us. Tonight proved what a monumentally bad idea this whole 'getting a life' thing was."

"I know, but-"

Yelena didn't seem to hear Calina's interruption. Her earlier concern appeared to have morphed into anger. She stalked around the couch until she loomed over Calina. "I told you using your real name was stupid. I told you living here was stupid, and I let you do it anyway. But your little experiment failed. It's time to come home."

Matt suddenly grasped the implication of Yelena's words. She wanted Calina to leave. To leave New York.

Permanently.

He would never see her again.

His stomach plummeted, something inside him that he didn't want to examine too closely rebelling violently at the notion. "Wait-" he said.

Calina opened her mouth to reply at the same time, but Yelena cut them both off. "No, I don't want to hear it, Calina. You know...actually I do. I want to know why you are being so stubborn about this. Is it pride? Is that it? Is it your pride that's stopping you from admitting that you couldn't make it on your own?"

Calina stood up, and it was her turn to loom over the other woman. Matt could hear the anger building in her voice as she hit back. "I was going to say that you're right, Yelena. I couldn't make it on my own. I failed. Does that make you happy? Are you happy that I have to go back to that house of pain and anger, where you can keep an eye on me and control everything I do-"

Yelena took a half step back. "You think thats what I'm doing?" She suddenly sounded hurt. "You think I'm no better than them?"

Calina sighed and hung her head. "No. You're doing it from a place of love, I know that. But you need to accept that you're not responsible for us. We're sisters. Team mates. But we're not your burden. If I want to come back with you or if I want to stay here, its my choice-"

"I think you should stay," Matt said, interrupting the two women.

"What?" Calina said, turning to face him in surprise.

He looked up at her. "I think you should stay. At least for tonight. You shouldn't make a decision like that when everything is still so...raw."

"Matthew..."

"Hear me out." He got to his feet and grabbed her hands. "You can only see your past right now - the one you don't think you can shake off and leave behind. But I can still see your present. I can still see my friend Calina - the one who visits a lonely old woman to keep her company, and brings me food when I'm sick and spends time trying to help an innocent woman avoid jail. You might feel like you've failed in this new life, but I don't see it that way. You've already made such a difference to the people around you. The life you're building is real, Calina, in all the ways that matter. And you deserve a chance to live it."

"You don't know that," she whispered, her voice thick with tears. "You don't know me, or the things I've done." He felt her try to pull away, so he clasped her hands tighter.

"I know that you came to me tonight, desperate to do anything you could to avoid being an assassin again. That tells me everything I need to know."

———

His hands held hers firmly, but his grip was gentle.

Strength and kindness.

That combination described Matthew Murdock so well. He was a good man. A strong and honourable man.

But who was she?

She wasn't the cold, ruthless killer she'd been trained to be. But neither was she the innocent victim Matthew thought she was.

Who was she?

It was the question she'd been struggling with ever since the Red Room had fallen. It was the question she'd hoped to answer in New York.

Did she still deserve to find out? After everything that had happened tonight? After everything she'd done in the course of her life, did she deserve the chance to be happy? An hour ago, she would have said 'no'. But Matthew - this good, kind man - thought she did.

She stared into his beautiful brown eyes, trying to see herself the way he 'saw' her. "How can you be so nice to me, when I've been lying to you this whole time?"

He gave her a wry smile. "I've been lying to you too."

"That's different."

He cocked his head. "How?"

She opened her mouth. And closed it again, at a loss to explain her reasoning. "It just is."

He chuckled softly. "It's not. And you know it. We've both been hiding who we are. But now everything's out in the open. We can start fresh, Calina."

She bit her lip, torn. The easy option would be to leave. To go back to the Widows' mansion where it was safe. Where there were no expectations, and where she wouldn't be challenged to be more than she was.

But that would make her a quitter.

And she'd already discovered that she hated being a quitter.

"You don't have to decide tonight," Matthew continued. "Just sleep on it. I don't want you to disappear and regret it later. I know a little about what that's like."

"As touching as this is, it's pointless," Yelena said, interrupting the moment.

"What do you mean?" Matthew said, sounding irritated by Yelena's bossiness. Calina knew the feeling.

"Calina's apartment is compromised. Her New York identity is burned. She's not safe here."

"I'm not sure that's true..." Calina said.

"Calina, the person who gave you the orders tonight is still out there. And he knows where you live."

"If that's the case, why isn't he here?" Calina countered. "The moment it became clear I wasn't carrying out his 'mission', there should have been someone at my door trying to find out why. This man - whoever he is - obviously went to a lot of effort to secure a mind-controlled Widow, yet he opted to terminate me instead of trying to retrieve me. That suggests that he was worried about being exposed, but he couldn't do anything else about it. Because he doesn't know where I am."

"It makes sense," Anya said, speaking in Russian. "If the guy Calina killed was a broker - like we assume - maybe he was the only one who knew Calina's identity." She held up the tablet in her hands. "This is running an old version of the neural networking software. There's no GPS or visual relay. No way to track her."

"And no way for someone else to get to me first and cut into his deal," Calina guessed.

Yelena crossed her arms and started pacing. She was working through the pros and cons of the situation - Calina recognised the process from when she would act as Team Leader on missions. Calina kept her mouth closed, knowing from experience that it was never a good idea to interrupt Yelena when she was in this mode.

Anya was not quite as tactful. She spoke up as Yelena started her third revolution across the floor - in English this time. "You were going to post one of us here in the building to surveil it in case someone came for Calina. Why couldn't it just be Calina?"

"Because Calina's already managed to get herself caught once," Yelena countered.

"Hey," Calina protested, annoyed at the censure in Yelena's tone. "I let my guard down," she bit out. "It won't happen again."

And with those words, she realised she'd made her decision.

She wanted to stay.

She was going to stay. No matter what Yelena decided.

"You have a busted knee and a useless arm," Yelena said. "Your guard can be up all you want, but you're in no fit state to take anyone on."

"So she'll stay here," Matthew said. "With me."

———

Matt had been silent throughout the exchange between the three women, and not just because half of their conversation had been in Russian. He'd only found out an hour ago that a network of brainwashed spies and assassins had been operating in the shadows for decades - he didn't exactly feel qualified to advise them on the best way to deal with the threat they were now facing.

But protecting Calina? That was something he was qualified for.

"If you're worried about Calina's safety," he explained. "She can stay here while she heals up, and the two of us will keep an eye on her apartment to make sure no one comes back."

He felt it as the three women turned to look at him in surprise. But he was only concerned with the reaction of one of them. "Calina? What do you think?"

"Are you sure?" she whispered.

Was he sure?

The offer had been an impulse. Born of the intangible fear that gnawed at him when he thought of Calina disappearing again into the night - for good this time. And it was born of compassion. He knew how important this new life was to Calina. He remembered the conversation they'd had while he was sick, when they'd sat at his kitchen table and debated the merits of happiness. She'd expressed so earnestly her desire to find some sort of meaning in her life.

She deserved a chance to discover what that was. And he would keep trying to convince her of that fact until she believed him.

But he could only do that if she stayed.

With him.

"Yes. I'm sure."

"Then yes," she replied, and he could hear the trace of a smile in her voice. "I'll stay."

He returned her smile. "Good."

They stayed like that for a beat, smiling at each other. And Matt was hit by the strange notion that he'd crossed a rubicon. That his offer to Calina - and her acceptance - was one of those life-altering, sliding door moments that would change the trajectory of his future...

He shook off the fanciful thought, just as Yelena ruined the moment yet again. "This is such a bad idea," she scoffed. But there was the barest hint of humour in her tone, like an older sister indulging a younger sibling.

It was that hint of teasing that finally softened his opinion of the other Widow. He could see that her overbearing behaviour was just a front for her fears about her friend's safety. That she was just as lost in this new life as Calina was, and was compensating for the uncertainty the only way she knew how - by trying to impose order.

He tried to allay her fears when the two of them were left alone a few minutes later. Calina was in his bathroom showering and Anya was helping Katya bring Calina's belongings across the hall.

"I won't let anything happen to her," he said. He was back on the couch - the end that wasn't destroyed - and she was slumped in the chair opposite, arms crossed in front of her chest.

"You'd better not. Calina is...," her voice tailed off as she stared at the bathroom door. The shower was running, so it was unlikely that Calina could hear, but Yelena seemed reluctant to continue.

"What?" Matt asked, hungry for any insight he could get into Calina and her past.

"She would hate me for saying this, but she's always been the most sensitive of us. And the kindest. Even when that trait was beaten out of her, she never lost her innate goodness. We all saw it." Yelena uncrossed her arms and leaned forward in the chair, her hands dangling between her legs as she stared off into the distance. "The way she would treat the younger girls, how she would care for us in small, hidden ways, it gave her away. And we tried to cover for her as much as we could, so the trainers wouldn't punish her for it. I guess that protectiveness never really went away."

"I'm glad she has you watching her back. When you were younger, and now."

"I'm glad she has you too," she responded, surprising the hell out of Matt. She must have noticed his reaction because she laughed. "Don't let it go to your head, Murdock. I just meant, I'm glad that you were able to stop her tonight. It would have destroyed her if she'd been forced to kill an innocent person again."

Matt nodded, accepting the compliment.

"I'll still come back here and kick your ass if you ever hurt her, though."

It was Matt's turn to laugh. "Understood."

———

An hour later, the Widows were on the road, headed to the airport. And Matthew and Calina were alone - for the first time since she'd been freed from the serum.

"How are you feeling," Matthew asked, handing her an opened bottle of beer. He leaned back against the kitchen counter and popped the cap from his own drink.

She took a sip while she catalogued her various aches and pains. "Physically, I think I look worse than I am," she said gesturing to the sling now wrapped around her injured arm. "You?" She threw the question back at him, avoiding any comment on her non-physical condition. She didn't quite know how she felt. The tears had dried up, but her other emotions seemed to be on hold, leaving her in a kind of numbed state.

Matthew shrugged. "Like I said before - I've had worse."

She nodded, and picked at the label on her bottle as she stared at the floor, an uncomfortable silence building between them.

"Did I miss some?" he asked after a few moments.

"Huh?" she said, confused.

"The blood. Did I miss some?"

She glanced up at his face. His distractingly handsome face - which was currently clean and blood-free.

"You weren't looking at me again," he explained with a wry smile.

"Oh. Sorry. It just feels a little..."

"Awkward?"

"Yeah," she laughed, glad that he understood. When she'd accepted his offer of a place to stay it had seemed so simple in theory. But now that they were alone - with the rest of the night stretching before them, and countless days to follow while they waited for the threat against her to be neutralised - and she realised it was anything but simple.

They would be living together.

She didn't know about Matthew, but she'd never lived with someone before. She'd never even been in a relationship before.

Not  that this was a relationship.

They weren't...together.

They were just friends.

Or as close to friends as two people could be when they'd been lying constantly to each other.

Matthew placed his beer on the counter behind him and took a step towards her. The intent look on his face put her on alert. She straightened up and placed her own bottle aside.

He stretched out his right hand towards her. "Hi. I'm Matt Murdock. I'm a defence attorney, and I'm also the Devil of Hell's Kitchen."

What?

It took her a beat to understand. But then she smiled, realising that he'd been having the same thoughts that she'd had. It was time for them to meet properly - with no lies or deceit between them.

It was time to start over.

She placed her hand in his. "I'm Calina Balashova. I used to be a Black Widow. Now I'm trying to find my place in the world."

He stroked his thumb against the back of her hand. "It's nice to finally meet you, Calina."

"It's nice to meet you, too, Matthew."

He smiled. "Call me 'Matt'."

"It's nice to meet you...Matt."

END OF PART I