Matt paused, his hand frozen in the act of turning the key to open his mailbox, as a deep, gruff voice filled the lobby.

"You see this woman?"

The words were heavily accented in Russian, and the tone was far from friendly. Matt stretched out his senses, and received the impression of a large man, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. He was standing in front of Mrs. Schneider's apartment, holding up a photograph.

Matt could easily guess who's picture was on it:

Calina.

Mrs Schneider peeked out from behind her heavy door and shook her head.

"You sure?" the man barked.

"Est tut mir leid," came the hesitant, confused reply.

Matt pocketed his keys and turned around. "She doesn't speak English."

The Russian man glanced at him over his shoulder. He took in the tinted glasses and the white cane and dismissed Matt without a second look. He just moved on to the next apartment and rapped on the door with his meaty fist.

Matt approached him from behind. The scent of gun oil and sweat filled his nose, along with a subtler, damp musty odor that reminded Matt of old, wet carpet. "Who are you looking for?" Matt asked.

The man looked at him again, the sneer on his face obvious even to Matt. "My sister," he spat out. "Her name Calina Balashova. She live here. Now she missing."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Matt replied. He fidgeted with the stick in his hands, trying to tamp down the impulse to beat the other man so severely that he'd forget all about Calina and the other Widows. Instead, he plastered a sympathetic smile on his face as he offered his help. "If you leave the photo with me, I'll make sure to pass it around to the other residents. We have a message board for these types of things."

Matt held out his hand. The man glared at him in response, and Matt could hear him grind his teeth in annoyance. But Matt held his ground. He wanted this intruder out of the building. The less he could discover about Calina and her activities while she lived here - and the people she socialised with - the better.

The man looked at the door in front of him, still closed after no one responded to his aggressive knocking. He tilted his head to look up the stairs to the several floors above, and Matt could almost see the calculation in his eyes: try more apartments, or give in for now?

He gave in. He shoved the photograph at Matt and stomped passed him.

"How should I contact you if I hear anything?" Matt called out.

The man slowed, but didn't turn around. "I'll be back," he replied, the words sounding like a threat. Then he headed out of the building.

"Not so fast, you Terminator-wannabe," Matt muttered under his breath. He turned and ran for the stairs, ignoring Mrs. Schneider's startled gasp. He folded his cane and shoved it into his jacket pocket while he shot up the steps. Within minutes he'd reached the rooftop access door. He slammed through it and raced to the edge of the building, scanning the air for traces of gun oil and mildew.

There.

Matt zeroed in on the scent trail. The Russian was still on the street, heading east. Matt backed up, then took a running jump to reach the next building over. He followed his prey from the rooftops, curious to find out where he was based.

And eager to find someway to help Calina.

He was getting sick of sitting on his hands while she was out there in danger.

It was time to act.

———

Calina was lost in a day dream.

It was another new experience.

She'd never had the luxury of indulging in fantasy before. There'd never been time to get lost in thought back in the Red Room - every moment of her life was spent either training or out on mission.

And her thoughts had never really been her own back then anyway.

Even once she'd been liberated from the serum - and had all the time in the world - her imagination had taken a while to catch up. The rigid way of thinking imposed on her during childhood was a difficult framework to escape - the concept of creative thought and idle make-believe so alien to her.

But reading had helped. All the months spent exploring other lives and other worlds in countless novels had sparked something within Calina. It had awoken in her a playful, imaginative side that she'd never expected.

And right now, that imaginative side had captured Calina's attention. It had painted a picture of a perfect future, once where she was truly free of her past.

And one where she was in Matt's arms, the two of them together and blissfully happy.

They were on a deserted beach, in some nameless exotic location. The sun was a warming glow on their skin as they bathed on the sand. Her head rested on Matt's chest and her arm was draped across his bare, muscled stomach. The only motion was the gentle lap of the tide and the glide of Matt's fingers up and down her sunscreen-slicked back.

They were at peace. Still. With nothing and no one to disturb them. No battles to fight. No worries or cares.

It was wonderful.

Dream-Calina felt a rumble beneath her cheek. She raised her head to look at Matt. His red glasses had been replaced by dark frames, and a light tan touched his skin. "Did you say something?" she asked.

He turned to her and smiled. "I said-"

"Earth to Calina!"

Real life-Calina was yanked out of paradise by Yelena's shout. She jerked her head around to see the other Widow in the door of the training room, arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

"I've been calling you and calling you," Yelena complained. "What have you been doing in here?"

Calina rubbed her forehead and orientated herself back to reality. She was on the exercise bike, her legs working the pedals in slow, lazy revolutions as she stared out the widow to the blue sky beyond.

"Sorry," she said, as she clambered off the machine. "What's up?"

"What's up?" Yelena spluttered. "What's up is that your boyfriend is about to blow our whole operation!"

———

Matt crouched down behind the overgrown shrubbery of an abandoned delivery depot, and checked out the warehouse across the street. The warehouse his Russian suspect had entered a few minutes ago. The warehouse that was the source of the old carpet and mildew smell that he'd used to track the man through Hell's Kitchen, across the Hudson and into Jersey.

Several times along the way he'd cursed the fact that he was still wearing his suit from the office and not his Daredevil gear - and he was regretting that even more now. He felt exposed out here as 'Matt Murdock'. It would be more than a little awkward to try to explain what a blind lawyer in a shirt and tie was doing in this run down industrial estate.

And his options going forward were severely limited by his lack of disguise. He could wait until after dark and try to sneak in to the factory, if he could find something to fashion a mask out of, or he could just-

"Matt!"

The hissed whisper came from his left.

While he'd been fixated on the factory across the street, Calina had somehow managed to sneak up on him. "What are you doing here?" he whispered back as she came over to crouch beside him.

"Me? What are you doing here?"

"I followed someone - he must be part of Volkov's team. He was asking questions about you back at the apartment."

Calina frowned and stared across at the building opposite. "Volkov must be getting frustrated that he can't find us."

"Is he in there?" Matt asked.

"Not yet. But as soon as he shows his face we'll be ready for him."

"So that's the trap you mentioned."

"Yeah. We have a base nearby and we're monitoring this site 24/7. That's how we knew you were skulking about."

"I don't skulk."

"Fine. That's how we knew you were stealthily and incredibly skilfully scoping out enemy terrain."

He smiled at her, glad her earlier annoyance seemed to have dissipated. He took her hand and squeezed it, and she used their clasped hands to guide him away from the warehouse.

As they crept through the labyrinth of crumbling buildings and dilapidated streets, Matt thought through the Widow's strategy for capturing Volkov.

And how he could help.

When they reached a safe distance, he pulled Calina to a stop. "I went to Columbia with one of the assistant DAs for this county."

She cocked her head, confused by the non-sequitur. "Okay...," she said slowly. "And?"

"And I can talk to him. Bring him up to speed."

"What do you mean?"

"For when you hand Volkov over to the authorities."

Calina took a step back, breaking his hold on her hand. "Matt...we're not handing him over to anyone. We're..." She bit her lip and looked away.

The truth hit Matt like a gut punch. "You're going to kill him."

She crossed her arms over her chest, not in a defiant way, but as if to shield herself. "We have to, Matt. We have to put an end to him, and his entire operation. Its the only way to be safe. Please understand."

Matt shook his head. "You can't buy your safety with someone else's death, Calina."

Now her pose, and her tone, became defensive. "Why not?"

"Because its not right!"

Calina grabbed his arm. "Be quiet! Volkov's men patrol nearby at this time of day."

"We need to talk about this, Calina."

She sighed. "I know. But not here. I'll come by your place tonight."

"No. Not while there are people running around asking about you. Come to Fogwell's. Midnight."

———

Calina picked at the polish on her nails as she watched the clock in the corner of the room tick by. She tugged at the ends of her hair. She kicked her feet, banging her heels against the side of the boxing ring.

She never used to be a fidgeter. And she wasn't in most circumstances - years of Red Room training had eliminated those types of bad habits before they could form - but sitting here, in this dusty old gym waiting for Matt to arrive had sent her nerves into overdrive. Any poise she'd once possessed, any composure or calmness under pressure, had evaporated in the last few hours.

Because she knew this was the make or break moment for them.

She'd known it the moment she'd told Matt about the plan for Volkov. In truth...she'd known the moment she'd lied to him about the body in her apartment all those months ago, that it would come back to haunt her. She'd known all along that this confrontation was coming. Why else had she harboured so many doubts and fears about their relationship? They were just too...different.

Matt was principled. He held himself to a high standard, and it was one that didn't involve taking another person's life.

Calina didn't enjoy killing - far from it - but she was a pragmatist. There was no room in her world for idealism. For taking the high road. That wasn't the way she was trained. She'd lived a brutal, cold life and it had shaped the person she now was.

And the choices she was willing to make.

I'm a good person; I'm worth of love.

The mantra had never felt so hollow. Because as much as she was learning to accept the darkness in herself and forgive herself for the things she'd had to do to survive, she knew that Matt would be a much harsher critic.

She glanced at the clock again: 11:54pm.

She'd arrived to Fogwell's early. Really early. She hadn't had much choice after being kicked out of the Widow's base. She'd all evening pacing the floor of their base in anxious anticipation of this meeting, and it had driven her sisters mad.

So she'd hopped on her bike and drove straight here. Picked the lock on the old, rusted door and sat down to wait.

She glanced around the room. It looked so different from the last time she'd been here - when Matt had brought her here to spar. When she'd tried to kiss him in this ring. Back then, the setting sun had suffused the room with a golden glow. Now wintery darkness pervaded the place, turning it gloomy and cold.

It felt fitting for the conversation to come.

Calina took a deep breath, then froze at the sound of the door opening.

He was here.

She released the breath, the air escaping in a juddering exhale as he stepped into the room. He was dressed as Daredevil, having obviously just finished his patrol of the city.

As it always did, the red suit emphasised his muscled frame and added inches to his height. The menacing mask obscured his face, hiding his expression from her. And for the first time since discovering his secret, the sight of the Hell's Kitchen vigilante caused a brief pang of fear.

This wasn't her boyfriend in front of her - her kind, sweet, gentle Matt - this was the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

And he was here to pass judgement on her.

Calina gripped the edge of the ring as that fear blossomed inside of her.

But then he took off the mask and he was Matt again. With his tired-looking eyes, and his rumpled, sweaty hair. And her fear dissipated.

She was getting really sick of this emotional rollercoaster ride.

"Hey," he said.

She wet her lips. "Hi."

He came over to sit beside her at the edge of the ring. He was so close, she could feel the heat of him through his suit, and she wanted to crawl into his lap and burrow against his warmth and pretend none of this was happening.

But she stayed still. And so did he.

For several long moments, they sat there in silence.

"Why does this feel so awkward?" he asked eventually.

She smiled sadly. "I gather most couples don't schedule a time and place for their arguments."

"Are we going to argue?"

Calina sighed. "Not if you accept our plan."

"To kill Volkov."

"Yes." She jumped to her feet - too nervous to stay still - and faced him. "We can't let him live, Matt."

Matt looked up at her and shrugged. "You can. Its simple really - you just don't murder him."

She crossed her arms. "So we hand him over to law enforcement instead."

"Yes."

"For what crime?"

Matt paused. Faltered. And Calina jumped on the flaw in his plan. "There's no proof of his involvement in the Red Room - which all happened in Russia, not in the US. And most of it was government-sanctioned, so extraditing him won't stop him."

"So we find something he's done while on American soil."

"The only thing he's done that we know of is send a team of mercenaries to attack us in South Carolina. But we were holding him hostage at the time, so we could end up in just as much legal trouble if we go after him for that. In fact, anything we do to try to punish him legally will just expose the Widows. We either end up at the mercy of the Sokovia Accords, in prison...or worse."

"Worse?"

"Your government doesn't have a great track record with this kind of thing."

Matt frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Does Operation Paperclip ring a bell?"

Matt nodded, somewhat reluctantly. "It was the codename given to the programme for the...rehabilitation...of Nazi scientists in the 40s and 50s."

"'Rehabilitation' is a stretch."

Matt threw up his hands. "Fine. The government gave them all jobs, and allowed them to continue their research. None of them faced trial for their crimes during the war."

"We learned all about it in the Red Room - a prime example of ruthless American hypocrisy."

"What's your point, Calina?" Matt gritted out.

"My point is that Volkov knows the secret to creating an army of mind-controlled soldiers and assassins. If your Government found that out, they wouldn't hesitate to make a deal with him. They may even start using us for their own purposes."

"You don't know that for sure."

"Its too important to leave to chance! We need to keep ourselves safe, we need to be free, and we need the serum to stay a secret. All of that means that Volkov needs to die."

It was Matt's turned to get to his feet. He started pacing in front of her, running one hand through his already mussed hair. "No, there must be another way."

Calina laughed. "I knew you were idealistic, but I didn't think you were this naive."

"Its not naive to value human life."

"He doesn't deserve a life! He deserves to die!"

Matt grabbed one of her hands with both of his. "No. I felt that way once, Calina. I came so close to killing someone because I thought it was the only way to stop him - the only way to stop an evil that was infecting my city and hurting the people I cared about. But it would have been wrong. Every life has meaning. Every person on earth has at least one has tiny spark of goodness that shouldn't be snuffed out if there's a chance they can redeem themselves."

She yanked her hand out of his grip and stepped back. "Redemption?" she spat. "Is that what you're banking on? There's no redemption for men like Volkov or Dreykov! They tear little girls away from their families and torture them. They steal their futures and make them into monsters!"

"You're not a monster, Callie."

"Aren't I? Isn't that why were having this conversation?"

"No!" He grabbed her shoulders this time. Then slid his hands up to cradle her face. "You are not a monster," he repeated, enunciating each word. "I know you've struggled with the things you were forced to do in your past, but you have the chance to make a different choice now. One that doesn't involve taking another person's life. Only God should hold that power."

Calina shook her head. "I don't believe in your God, Matt, so I don't fear his judgement. Or yours."

It was a lie. She very much cared how Matt saw her. And she was terrified of him growing to hate her. But she couldn't show that kind of weakness to him - not now. It felt vital that she win this argument. That she convince him that this was the only path.

It was the only way she could envisage them having a future together.

"I'm not judging you," Matt protested.

She pulled away from him again, scoffing at his obvious lie. "Yes, you are! You're judging me against your standard, but we were raised in two very different worlds, Matt, and your values don't belong in mine. They don't belong in war - you wouldn't judge a soldier for killing an enemy in battle."

"You're not at war."

"Yes I am!"

"So it's kill or be killed - is that what you're saying? Is that how it works in 'your world'?"

Calina shook her head sharply. "No. There are worse things than being killed. Like being stolen from your family. Having your personality erased before it had time to form. Being beaten and abused for years. Having your innocence and your autonomy stripped from you, and your womb cut from your body to prove that you have no future on this earth beyond being a mindless slave!"

As Calina recited each act of cruelty inflicted on her by the Red Room she stepped closer and closer to Matt, until she was standing right in front of him, panting with rage, fists clenched at her sides and hot, angry tears filling her eyes.

Matt staggered back. "Y- your what?" he whispered, shaking his head.

"That was our graduation present, for finishing our training. They strapped us down and ripped out our reproductive organs. Because we were just things to them. To men like Volkov, we were nothing. He didn't see our humanity, so why should I give a fuck about his?"

Matt was silent.

All she could hear was the sound of her own fast breathing and the heartbeat pounding in her ears.

She'd always planned to tell Matt about her infertility. Eventually. During some far-off discussion about their plans for the future...she'd just never expected to blurt it out in a fit of rage. To expose her deepest vulnerability and her most hidden, buried grief in this callous way.

But it was done now.

And Matt still wasn't saying a word.

Calina turned away from him to wipe the moisture from her cheeks. Then all of a sudden she was engulfed in his strong arms as he held her from behind. She struggled briefly against his embrace, but he was too strong.

And the lure of his embrace was stronger still.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered into her ear. "I'm so sorry they did that to you."

He tightened his arms across her chest as he continued. "But I'm so proud of you for coming through that. For being the kind and sweet and wonderful person that you are, despite everything they took from you. Don't you see that that's the way to beat these men? Be better than them. Be better than your training. You didn't have a choice before - you were brainwashed and controlled and forced to kill. But you have a choice now. You have a choice to be better than that."

Calina dropped her head forward and closed her eyes, fighting off more tears. She could feel her heart crack as she realised it was time. Time to tell him everything.

The whole, ugly truth.

The vague hints she'd dropped over the past few months about the darkness within her just hadn't penetrated. He still had her up on a pedestal.

The way he saw her...it was beautiful. But it was a lie.

Calina slipped out of his arms and turned to face him. "Matt, you need to understand something. I'm not this...perfect victim...that you've built up in your head. I'm not innocent. I've been faced with this choice before, and I- I didn't choose the option you'd approve of."

He frowned at her, and it was his turn to back away. "You've killed someone," he guessed. "Since being freed from the Red Room."

"Yes."

"More than one?"

She swallowed, as all her secrets were laid bare. "Yes."

"Who? When?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes!"

"Why? So you can judge my sins? I thought only your God was allowed to do that." The sarcasm slashed like a knife.

But Matt showed no sign of taking a hit. He just rested his fists on his hips and demanded answers. "Dammit, Calina, just tell me."

Calina raked her fingers through her hair and started pacing. "Fine! Before I came to New York, I killed a man during a mission. We were hunting down who we thought were the last dregs of the Red Room personnel and I...I took one of them out."

"And the others?" All hints of Matt were gone. This was Daredevil in front of her.

Interrogating her.

Judging her.

Just as she'd feared.

But she didn't regret her choices. She didn't revel in them, and she hated that they made her doubt her worth as a person...but every act of violence could be justified in her eyes. So she stood up straight and told him the truth. "I lied to you about what happened the night you found out about me. The man who administered the serum did it in person. I woke up tied to my bed with him standing over me, stealing my mind. So I fought him, and killed him."

Matt staggered back. "Jesus." He lifted his head towards the ceiling - as if praying for guidance - then shook it and faced her again. "Jesus, Calina, I knew there was something off about your story, but there was a dead body across the hall that whole time?"

"Yes," she admitted. "But what options did I have, Matt? Tell me! If I'd wasted time trying to subdue him, I would have been dragged under by the serum. I never would have had a chance to come to you for help. And I would have gone out and assassinated Governor Benson - and whoever else they programmed me to kill. Would that have been better?" She didn't give him time to respond, her anger taking her over. "What about the two highly-trained and fully-armed mercenaries that invaded my home in South Carolina to try and take me back under Volkov's control? Should I have left them alive to try another day?"

Matt shook his head, more in disbelief than disagreement. He seemed shocked by her confessions. But like the masochist he was, he couldn't stop asking for more details. "Have there been any since we- since we were...together?"

Calina shook her head, glad that she could give him some positive news. "No."

"How can I trust that?" he asked, shaking his head. "How can I believe you, when you lie well enough to fool your own heartbeat!?"

It was Calina's turn to take the hit. She felt Matt's mistrust and suspicion tear at her already bleeding heart, the pain of it a physical ache. She rubbed her hand over her chest, suddenly feeling...tired.

All her self-righteous anger was gone. All her hopes of salvaging their relationship...gone.

It was over.

"I'm not lying, Matt," she said sadly, all strength and passion gone from her voice. "Everything I've said tonight was the truth. I'm sorry for lying to you before. I really am. But...could you blame me? You had me up on a pedestal almost from the moment we met. And I knew if I burst that illusion, you would want nothing to do with me. And I couldn't bear that."

Her wounded heart finally wrenched in two. But she choked back the sob gathering within her, and lifted her chin, determined that he wouldn't see her fall apart.

She still had some pride.

I'm a good person; I'm worthy of love.

She grabbed her coat and shoved her arms in the sleeves, then faced him one last time. "Volkov has to die, Matt. And I know what that means for us. I know you'll never understand, and you'll never forgive me. You don't have to. Just don't stand in my way."

With that final warning, Calina strode past the man she loved and left.