32 kids were saved from the Room. Of those, four planned on staying at the Tower permanently. Viktoriya, Eva, Ekaterina, and Alina.

Viktoriya was small. She was the one who Nat had sung to sleep. She clung to Natasha, and Natasha took to the girl quickly. Viktoriya didn't wander far from the red haired Avenger. She also took to Clint, though not as quickly. It became common to see Natasha either carrying her around, or the little girl trailing behind her.

Eva was young and shy. She did know how to fight, but the full horrors of the Red Room hadn't fallen on her yet. Her eyes were still bright, and she spoke broken English. Jan was instantly taken with the 5 year old, and Eva felt safe with her. She clung to Jan when Jan held her. She also seemed to trust Hank, and that might've been because of how she saw them interact. They were like parents to the girl.

Ekaterina was a whirlwind of a girl. 10 and bright as ever. She was endlessly inquisitive, always looking for answers to things she didn't understand. She was amazing at handling technology and mechanics, and thus gravitated toward Tony. The billionaire didn't even try to close himself off, and seemed to be one of the few who could keep up with her quick mind. It wasn't long before Pepper was constantly checking on the both of them and finding them slumped over a table and blueprints, fast asleep.

Alina was much older in mind, heart, and soul. The Red Room hit the 11 year old hard, and she tried to be responsible and earn her keep. Clint saw himself in the girl and was determined to get her to open up. And she did. At first, it was only around the other girls. Then it was around Clint. Then Natasha and Clint. Soon, it was a small circle of friends, and - dare she say it - family.

It was something she did only once or twice every few months and never in front of anyone but Clint. Missions were an exception, but she hadn't danced on a mission in a long time - ballet dancing, that is. It was the first kind she knew how to do and the kind that brought up awful, terrifying, sickening memories but made her happy at the same time.

Little Eva was only 5 years old, and the majority of the girls rescued were 7 or younger. They hadn't yet been forced to repeat the same moves over and over till their feet were sore and about to break, till their legs burned and ached with a ferocity that they weren't used to, till all they could think to do with themselves was repeat the moves, even in their sleep.

They hadn't yet been forced to dance with knives, arms outstretched and fingers locked around a 2 inch long blade in each hand, forbidden to flinch when one of the dance moves brought the knife close to their faces, necks, torsos, and abdomens, cautious not to alter the dance in any way.

Black Widows were to show no fear.

This was one of the extremely few mantras or psychological lessons that Natasha hung onto since her escape. Little Eva, wide-eyed and awed about meeting the Black Widow - the woman her trainers wanted her to grow up to be just as skilled as - didn't know that her question had triggered a slight flashback in Natasha's mind. But Natasha refused to give in to the fear. She used to enjoy ballet dancing, and if the girls wanted to see her dance, then she'd dance.

She asked Jarvis to play the "Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy," and began to dance. The moves were no more than muscle memory, yet they were extremely liberating. She cleared her mind and just moved with the music. The dance moves flowed, one into the other. Years of practice, both in and outside the Red Room, allowed her to perform the dance with no mistakes. The music ended, and she stopped.

The girls - all of whom were still at the Tower temporarily while Coulson found them homes - clapped and cheered, grinning and talking to the others. Natasha was smiling as well, because for a moment, she was just dancing for some eager young girls. For a moment, she wasn't a Black Widow.

They weren't assassins or assassins-in-training. They were survivors.