"Agent Romanoff, come in-" Natasha could hear her handlers voice in her ear but she couldn't summon the presence of mind to answer.

She didn't often do solo missions anymore. She was usually paired with Clint for spy missions and the other Avengers for public missions.

But her new handler had sent her out to Russia, because she had the experience with it being her homeland.

After Coulson had died, she'd gone through multiple handlers, this was one was less of an idiot but Natasha was still pretty much on her own.

She'd had to sign a non-disclosure agreement, so she hadn't been able to tell anyone she was leaving.

She'd woken up, watched Clint beside her for a couple of minutes, got out of bed and snuck out the tower.

She'd handed her phone in at Shield and the only communication she had was the comms in her ear.

She hadn't just disappeared for a long time and it had felt all kinds of wrong for her to leave without even a letter.

It wouldn't have been the first time she'd forgone procedure, but something had stopped her from talking to her team.

She thought she could handle it, had gone through so many solo missions and come out victorious.

But now she was sprawled across the concrete floor, blood dripping into her eyes as she looked up at the face of her former teacher.

Natasha tried to push herself up, and as she watched the foot coming down at her face, she realised she'd screwed up.

The Red Room had been her problem, had been her life and she hadn't trusted her team with the mission, because she thought it was all on her.

The foot slammed down and she saw black.

...

Natasha woke up in the dark, her ears ringing and her entire body throbbing.

She struggled to adjust to the darkness, realising as her stomach sank, that she was back in her old room.

She could only see out of one eye and as she lifted her head, she could feel the crack of dried blood coating her face.

She'd been out for a little while, but she wasn't dead, so that was a plus.

She silently moved her limbs, the rattling of chains alerting her to the fact she was chained to something.

She was a little off the floor and she swallowed, exhaling shakily.

She was chained to a bed, and knowing who was behind it, it was most likely her old bed.

"Dammit, Natasha, you should've told them." She muttered, wincing as she dropped her head.

She'd gotten caught up in the past, and had forgotten she wasn't alone anymore.

She must have lost consciousness again because the next thing she knew, the door was slamming and there was a light above her.

She cursed herself. She should've watched the door, figured out how many locks there were and gotten out of the handcuffs.

Her vision blurred and she knew she wasn't just dealing with being knocked out, she had a bad concussion.

"Natalia." The voice called and she struggled to focus.

"Dmitry." She murmured, trying to open her swollen eye. "Can't say I missed this." She pulled at the chains.

"It was necessary then, and now. I'm no idiot, Talia, you're dangerous even when half conscious."

"Come a little closer and I'll show you how dangerous." She growled.

Dmitry laughed, fingers trailing down her jaw.

She steadfastly didn't flinch, no matter how sickening the touch was as he trailed over cut up skin.

"Haven't changed, my little spitfire." Dmitry hummed, fingers curling around the base of her throat. He squeezed enough to hurt but not enough to cut off her breathing.

Natasha bared her teeth and tried to lunge up. The chains yanked at her wrists but she barely felt it.

"I am not, nor have I ever been yours." She spat.

Dmitry just laughed, reaching for something at his side.

Natasha couldn't see what he had but then something cold was pressed against her neck.

She just looked up at him, unflinching and unwavering.

He drew the knife down her neck and through the material of her infamous suit.

Natasha's nose flared but she stayed quiet, silently tugging at the handcuffs.

The bed was old and the metal frame bent just a little bit, just enough for her to reach up and slam her head into Dmitry's.

The man cursed and stumbled back, cupping his nose.

Natasha's vision swam, her face burning.

"You little bitch." He growled, moving to her in an instant, hands clamping down around her neck, harder this time.

Natasha bucked up; trying to get another hit in, but everything was darkening quickly.

One second she was gasping for air, and then a bright light and a crash crowded her senses.

When she could see again, a familiar voice was talking to her, though her ears were ringing too much for her to understand.

Someone had snapped the chains and was sitting her up, Natasha barely able to support herself.

She watched numbly as Dmitry staggered to the floor, hand at his throat.

An arrow had gone through one side of his neck and out the other.

Clint.

She slowly blinked, a little more coherent.

She dragged her gaze to whoever was holding her, more than a little surprised to find Tony.

The lights made sense now, his repulsors were still warm.

"Tony." Natasha slurred, "What?"

"You're okay." The engineer murmured the face plate of his suit up so she could see the concern in his eyes.

Everything moved slowly, like trudging through deep water.

"Nat? Natasha?" Something warm touched her cheek.

"Clint." She exhaled, blinking at the face of her best friend.

"Hey." He murmured. "Took a while there, keep looking at me." He touched his ear.

"The others have cleared the hallways, it's time to go." He nodded.

Tony slid his face plate down and stood, easily scooping up Natasha. "Time to go home, little red."

...

Natasha spent the next two days in medical, Bruce overseeing her care. Clint had gone off at Shield and refused to send her there.

As she spent her hours in bed, she slowly got the information on what had happened.

Clint had woken to Natasha gone, had waited an hour, flooded her phone with messages, and then gone to the others.

Tony had hacked into Shield and gotten her location and mission details and they'd left for Russia.

They were understandably hurt and put out that she hadn't come to them, but realised quickly that Natasha still struggled with the past and her feelings.

It wasn't that she hadn't trusted them per se, it was that she had thought she had to do it alone.

She found out that the Avengers had flooded the building, Bruce, Thor and Steve captured the other agents as Tony burst through the wall and Clint dropped from the vents.

Dmitry had shot at them, so Clint had fired an arrow. The rest Natasha had seen.

The first night had been spent setting her broken nose, ice-ing her face and keeping her awake on concussion watch.

The day after, they'd all sat down around Natasha's bed and had talked for hours.

It had been awkward, painful and emotional, but Natasha knew they had a better understanding now.

She also knew that she wasn't alone now, and solo missions just weren't her thing anymore.

Her handler had been tasked with someone else and Hill was now overseeing her missions personally.

As she looked over at the faces of her friends, at her boyfriend beside her, arm around her shoulders, she was glad things were different.

Natasha trusted the team, and they trusted her. It had taken a while, there would be miscommunication and misunderstandings but she was one of them.

The Avengers were a family, and one she wouldn't lose by not trusting them.

The Red Room had taken everything from her, had broken the trust of a child, but The Avengers had built her back up, had given her the trust she needed as an adult.

She wouldn't have it any other way.