Red Daughter (Natasha Romanoff)

One

BaBam!
BaBam!
BaBam!

The sound of gloves hitting a punching bag fills the training room as Natasha takes out her anger. She'd been feeling particularly emotional this past week as the anniversary of her escape from the Red Room loomed closer.

Logically that should be a happy day.

She did get out alive after all, being the first Widow to ever accomplish that. But each year, her guilt of leaving her fellow Widows behind nearly destroys her. She'd tried finding the Red Room for years, tried tracking the unexplained deaths that had all the markings of a Widow kill, but she'd always gotten there too late.

The only other Widow she'd ever been able to save was her sister, Yelena.

Not that Yelena technically needed saving, as she'd tell anyone who'd listen. She'd gotten herself out during a mission and Natasha had just given her a ride to the tower and gotten her a job. The real story was much more complex than that, but neither of them wanted to relive it when anyone asked, so Natasha let Yelena tell her version.

Natasha hits the bag harder, ignoring her throbbing hands and aching muscles, trying to burn out her feelings and go back to the numbness that's become her constant companion.

Her movements get more erratic the longer she hits, no longer caring about her form or the fact that she can feel her skin splitting on her knuckles. Her breath comes in short grunts with each hit until she eventually just yells at the bag and rests her head on it, gasping for air.

Her outburst had done little to fix her mood and she was already mentally kicking herself for losing control.

After a few deep breaths, she's preparing to go back to the bag when a voice interrupts her, "excuse the interruption Agent Romanoff, your presence is required in interrogating five," JARVIS tells her.

"Why?" Natasha asks as she hits the bag. It was her one day off and the team knew better then to bother her.

"There is a situation that requires your expertise. A young Widow has surrendered."

Her fist stops an inch from the bag, her arm frozen in shock. "Widows don't surrender," she tells him. "It's probably a trap. Tell the team to move her immediately."

"I'm afraid that they can't."

"Why?" She asks again.

"The girl is adamant that she speaks to you and only you. She has already broken Mr Starks hand and given Captain Rogers a black eye as well as put two security officers in the ICU."

"Damnit," she mutters as she starts to take off her gloves. "Tell them I'll be there in twenty."

"Of course Agent Romanoff," he chirps before the room goes silent again.

A sinking feeling churns in Natasha's gut as she heads for the showers. She'd known that the Red Room would send someone after her eventually, but it had been almost ten years since she'd left, so why now? Maybe Draykov had a sick sense of humor and thought it would be funny to kill her on the anniversary of her escape.

And if that was the case then Yelena wasn't safe either.

"JARVIS," she calls.

"Yes Agent Romanoff?" He answers immediately.

"Tell Yelena what's going on and to bunk down until I tell her it's safe," she orders.

"Right away," he says before going silent again.

Natasha gets in the cold shower and washes quickly, wanting to get whatever was waiting for her over with. Her uniform was waiting in a locker and she pulls it on, braiding her hair before heading out the door.

She gets to interrogation five just as the twenty minutes is up and goes into the observation room to find the entire team there talking in hushed tones. They stop when she enters, everyone giving her what could only be described as a pitying look.

"What's going on?" She demands. Steve comes over and tries to put a hand on her shoulder but she shrugs him off, "JARVIS said something about a Widow?"

Steve nods and motions to the window separating the room. Natasha goes and looks in, surprised to find a redheaded girl in jeans and a sweater laying on the metal table and looking bored. "She showed up about an hour ago," he tells her. "Just walked in the front door and asked to see you. She did not like the answer she got and definitely did not like the guards that were sent to escort her out."

"Are they alive?" Natasha asks him softly, her eyes still on the girl.

"Barely. One is in critical condition and the other is still in surgery," he says. "But that's not why we called you."

She turns to him, "they why did you? I don't know her. Each generation of Widows was kept separate from each other." She turns back to the girl who was now sitting cross legged on the table and staring at the window. "Do we know who she is? If she was stolen or bought?" There's an audible pause and she turns back to them, "what?"

Bruce comes to stand by her at the window, a tablet in his hand. "That's why we called you, Nat. We know who she is."

"You found her already?" Natasha asks him surprised.

He shakes his head, "she told us."

Natasha snorts slightly, "you can't trust what she says, you know that."

Bruce hands her the tablet and Natasha looks down at a picture of the girl and a picture of herself side by side, a dna strand under each picture. "What is this?" She asks him as she looks at the screen.

"Her dna and yours," he says gently. "She was telling us the truth."

"About what?" Natasha whispers, not wanting to believe what was on the screen.

Bruce puts his hand on her arm as he says, "she's your daughter, Nat."