❛ 𝔬𝔥, 𝔬𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔞, 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔭 𝔞 𝔣𝔬𝔬𝔩 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢. ❜
→ * . & ━━ one hawkeye and a
red room survivor get placed under clint
barton's roof, thinking nothing could go
wrong.
𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐋�...
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CHAPTER ONE
THREE MONTHS EARLIER.
IT WAS DARK: the kind of darkness which drizzled from the corners of alleyways and shadowed the glow of the moon. Wind whistled through the empty streets of Brooklyn in a ghost's howl.
Rain pooled in Alisa Vasiliev's boots; running down the bridge of her nose and thickening her eyelashes with water. The hood over her head made no effort to stop the rain from cascading over her hair, and she shivered. It was the kind of night which you'd want to stay inside and lock the windows; the kind of night which reminded Alice of the dark rooms with latches and rising water in the Red Room.
Alice. That's what She had told her to go by. Alice looked up at the woman whose arms was linked with hers. She had bright red hair, a look of determination set upon her harsh eyebrows. Alice had no idea how the woman had found her.
She supposed deadly assassins drew to each other.
Natalia Romanova wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with the girl. Finding out the Red Room had been alive and thriving for years under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s nose—under her nose—it filled her mouth with bitterness. She should never have missed it. And so, when she and S.H.I.E.L.D. had discovered it, and found a living trainee, it was all the more phenomenal. Natasha knew that some of the Black Widow Ops program still lived, and the Dark Room still ran, but she hadn't expected to see any girls from a reboot program any time soon. She tore at herself for missing it.
And despite all her training, despite all the messages pummelled into her as a child, despite the warnings in her head that reminded her this girl was a device of the Red Room, Natasha knew she couldn't leave her to fend on her own. So, despite herself, with a jacket hood over her head and the dim streetlights illuminating her features, she led Alisa Vasiliev down the only street which she knew she could rely on.
Alice knew Natasha of course. Madame V had always told her the tales of Natalia Romanova, the Black Widow: both a success story and a failure among the Red Room. As an escapee, she was the sole survivor of the Black Widow Ops, other than Recluse of The Dark Room.
"Where are you taking me?" Alice asked, almost afraid to speak up. She knew the Black Widow's reputation.
"I told you," Natasha said to her, in a voice that was firm but not unkind, "a safehouse."
Streetlamps cast spotlights down on them beneath each one they passed, lighting up the area enough for Alice to see Natasha's red hair. "Yes, but where exactly?" Alice asked.
