Natasha wished she could say that having a gun pointed at her face was something terrible, but she couldn't. It was part of the job. It could be compared to a routine, actually. And even more Natasha wished she could say that having a child pointing a gun at her face was something terrible, but she couldn't. She had seen it, far too many times to make her lose faith in all humanity for still using defenseless and innocent children as pawns in their worthless games of power… just like she was used as well.

The little girl, about six or seven of age, stood at her doorstep, barely holding the gun in her hands. Her green eyes seemed darkened by fear of the unknown. She was just a child; she didn't know what would be the outcome of pointing a gun at an adult. Her lips were pressed together in anxiety and her breathing was fast. The little girl was nervous, much like Natasha. The woman couldn't believe her eyes. Still, she tried to remain calm as he brain formulated plausible answers for her doubts.

"Can you give me the gun, please?" Natasha said softly, ducking to be at the eye level of the blonde girl.

"Can't…" the little girl told her, nodding her head.

Natasha removed the gun of the girl's hands. "Is somebody after you?"

The girl shrugged, "They say they're always watching me and they sent me after you."

"Want to come in and have something to eat?"

The child nodded her head and approached Natasha with small steps, "I'm hungry."

"Anything you want to eat I can get you," The redheaded told the girl, offering a small smile.

Natasha was a complete wreck, not knowing what to do. Walking from side to side, waiting for Clint to pick up her call, Natasha watched the girl devouring food like if she hadn't eaten in days. So far she had had two sodas and was finishing a pizza, and was saying how she could still eat something more. Clint finally got her call and Natasha was discreet and told him to show up at her house because the matter was serious.

Once three light knocks were heard Natasha walked to the door. When she saw Clint her chest filled up with air, truly glad to see him.

"What is going on? I came as soon as I could." With a slight head movement, Natasha pointed the girl sitting at the kitchenette chair, swinging her legs as she was delighting in with a pizza slice. "Who is she?"

Natasha took a deep breath, eyes put on the little girl, and said, "She's me."

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