The rise of the White Widow

Ka. Boom.

We make our way back to my suite so I can collect my belongings. The room is filled with a tense silence as I hurriedly pack my bag, wrestling with the heavy emotions that I'm trying to keep in check.

As I hastily stuff my clothes into the bag, Natasha breaks the silence, her voice thick with concern. "Where have you been all this time?"

"Nat, don't," Clint warns her gently. He had introduced me to his friends on our way here and it is clear they all share a strong bond.

But Natasha persists, unwilling to let the matter drop. "No. I want to know," she insists firmly, her eyes fixated on me.

I sigh heavily and turn to face her, slinging my now-packed bag over my shoulder. "Let's go," I say. "It's a ten-hour flight to New York."

"You haven't answered my question!" says Natasha, her frustration growing more apparent.

I pause for a brief moment before turning back around to face her. With a near-whisper, the words escape my lips: "Hydra and the Red Room."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I quickly turn away from her shocked expression and walk out the door, eager to leave the painful memories behind.

We slowly make our way towards the sleek private jet, and I hesitantly step inside. Clutching my bag tightly to my chest, I can't help but feel a sense of unease around these strangers. As I find a seat, I silently establish a new rule in my head: trust no one. The one rule in my life as well Alex :)

Tony, one of the group members, glances over at me with a mix of curiosity and concern. "You alright, kid?" he asks.

Choosing not to respond, I simply stare out the small window near my seat without meeting his gaze. He gives a small nod and shifts his attention elsewhere, walking towards the cockpit.

Once we are airborne, I take a deep breath and gradually begin to relax. Our destination looms ahead - New York City. Sitting cuddled in my seat, I dread the ten grueling hours that lie ahead of me - hours filled with attempts to find solace in my thoughts while surrounded by unfamiliar faces.

As we fly through the sky, I remind myself that despite feeling alone in this moment I must remain strong. This could be only the beginning of an uncertain journey filled with possibilites yet untold.

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Two hours in the sky and I'm starting to grow restless. The anticipation sits heavy inside me, and I can sense the team's stares boring into me. I shift in my seat, trying to ease the discomfort.

Breaking the silence, Tony calls out from the cockpit, "How did you manage to get this information? About the bomb, I mean."

I hesitate for a moment before replying, "I found it on a hard drive."

Natasha's voice rings out next, her tone curious yet cautious. "Where exactly did you find this hard drive?"

The memory flashes before my eyes. "It was with my father's lifeless body," I confess quietly.

Steve's concern is palpable as he asks gently, "Who was your father?"

I look down, choking back tears that threaten to spill from my eyes. Blinking them away, I muster up the courage to look up again and reveal the truth.

"Dreykov," I whisper, and a heavy silence falls over us once more as they all process this information.

"Like- like the Red Room's Dreykov?" Natasha stammers.

Suddenly, a vivid memory washes over me. I see Dreykov standing before me, claiming to be my father. He tells me that Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow herself, is my mother. Panic fills me as more memories come crashing down upon me. I realize they are not what I need, the ones that were taken from me.