Natasha was well adapted to changes in plans. Such was a permanent side effect of her upbringing-adapt to all situations. Her time with the others was meant to bring some of that influence to the team, and perhaps shape them to be as good as her. Though by now, she'd come to accept that her teammates were the most disorganized mess with no hope of ever being remotely alike to each other. Maybe she'd come to like that too.

She adapted to many major changes in the past couple of weeks. The impending death of Hydra led to the successful capture of many Hydra outposts and an estimated 53% of all their current members. There was also the fact that they were more exposed given media coverage of their cause, SHIELD handed over most missions to the Avengers due to their disbandment, and Sam was sticking around for negotiations on being a team member. It was a bit strange, sharing such a giant building with a giant roster of allies, but it was manageable. Steve was worried she was occasionally purposely avoiding them, but he thankfully said nothing of the matter. Things were new, yet quickly becoming a routine thing now. Then came another change, one that seemed small at first, in hindsight.

Thanks to the capturing of the Hydra bases, SHIELD and other government groups had been recently swallowing in huge spoils of war-Mission catalogs, weapons, prototype battle armor and other things that Hydra troops had been working on for the past century. Since most of the vaults were filling up on the major helicarriers, Nat eventually got a call from Hill about a mission to take down one of the larger outposts Hydra had to offer in Russia just so the spoils of war could stay within the tower for a temporary time. Seeing nothing wrong with this, the team agreed to make an attack.

The outpost went down easily, but there was an interesting twist to things that Natasha did not see coming until it was too late.

She was just sneaking her way up the stairs, crouched low in anticipation of the nervous russian voices in the hallway. When she was close enough to the edge of an office compartment, she paused to listen in on what they were saying. The quiet way they spoke only offered her minor clues to the conversation, a few statements about an 'it' and 'the asset'. When one of them began walking away in hurried fashion, she sprung from her position and crippled the one left behind with a few well-placed shots. He seemed more concerned about barking a few last orders at his fleeing comrade, such as 'Destroy it, they can't take it'.

Whatever the other's mission was, he didn't get to execute it- he was just starting to open a specific cell door in another hallway when she caught up tohim and soon he was lying in a groaning heap on the floor, his gun skidding away from his hand. She probably should have just binded him and carried him back down in their custody, but her curiosity began to rise towards the partially open cell door. What were they so intent on destroying and keeping from the Avengers? Some genetically created monster? At the very least, she could see if she could kill it and contact Thor if that plan failed.

She opened the door slowly, her gun drawn in her right hand and the dim rainy light from the outside world entered a dark abyss. She squinted as she stepped inside until her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, noticed the rusty old bed and the dirty look of the metal walls. The cold could be felt even through her suit, and the air felt somewhat stagnant. It didn't seem like anything was living in such a decrepit place, in such poor conditions. Then she finally noticed the girl.

It hadn't looked like a girl at first, just a huddled ball in the corner of the room, with a thin white sheet covering its entire body. Natasha, stepping closer with great caution, wondered if she would have even seen the figure if they hadn't been covered in a bright sheet in an otherwise dark place. They were certainly small enough to hide under the bed, or even behind the door when it opened, yet this figure seemed to rely on the corner as a hiding space. The Black Widow crouched low as she approached once more, first intending to snatch the sheets off, then reforming her plan to simply poking the figure. She could only imagine Clint rolling his eyes in disbelief as she gently tapped what seemed like a shoulder.

That's when the figure nervously turned to look at her, and she learned that it was just a girl.

Nat's eyes widened at the tiny, frightened face cowering below her and trying to squeeze back against the dark corner. It was a literally a little girl; no more than three or four years old-but there were many startling differences between most little girls and her. Her skin was entirely bright green, almost like a candy of some kind. Her cheeks, as well as most of her skin, were dusted with tiny reptilian scales in the likeness of freckles. Her nose was flatter, visible only by slanted nostrils a serpent might have. Her eyes were also like that of reptiles, with slitted pupils sitting in the center of beautiful purple pools. Natasha's lips pursed as she took note of the nasty looking bruise on the eye farthest from her, nearly swollen shut. Dried blood trickled down from her nostrils.

She nearly missed it when the girl's trembling hands moved from under the sheets, making different signs with apprehensive fear. Natasha quickly recognized the RSL and mentally translated it to: "W-Who are you…?"

There were no obvious signs the girl was deaf, but it didn't matter anyway. Natasha blinked at her for a moment, then slowly holstered her gun. Her hands raised with peaceful slowness to convey that she meant no harm, but also to give her time to think of what to say. She swallowed softly and lifted her fingers.

"I am a friend." Natasha signed.

The girl's brow furrowed. "A...A what…?"

Natasha thought for a moment. "I am a good person. I am not going to hurt you, " She paused. "I am going to help you."

The girl looked skeptical about that, but she signed nothing about her caution. Nat grimaced at the bruises again, her hands moving once more. "What's your name…?"

The girl looked even more confused and worried, so she decided to follow that question up with another-forgetting to sign this time. "Have you ever been outside…?"

The girl blinked, frowned and shook her head. So she could hear.

"Well, why don't you come with me?" Natasha coaxed in Russian, trying to smile in a way that would help. "I'll show you what it's like outside."

The girl cringed, surprisingly, trying even harder to retreat into the darkness of the corner and sway from Nat. "I'll be punished again." She signed with trembling hands.

She forced herself not to think about what 'punishment' entailed. The older woman frowned uncomfortably, trying to remember any physical tactics Clint used for his own children. When nothing helpful passed her train of thought, she tried to make herself seem as small as the girl by crouching more despite her aching body. She made slower hand signatures, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn't have to force the girl out of a place seemingly pushing her towards death. Who knew when she was last fed, or even had any sleep? "No, you won't. I promise you...that you won't be punished again if you come with me."

The girl blinked, her purple eyes full of waning fear and uncertainty.