The Black Widow did not scare very easily – she is an Avenger, she has to be tough. The click of a weapon didn't faze her, dying heartbeats only made her stronger, the cry of someone injured strove her to what was normally a hard won victory. Needless to say, she was strong.

But lying on this boat, an engine blown to pieces, Captain America, Iron Man and Thor battling to keep it in the air, with a villain close to escape, and a man next to her who could lose control and turn into a hulking green thing?

Yeah, that scares her.

Her foot is trapped under something heavy, and Bruce (the brains and also strength of the Avengers Initiation) is slowly losing control. His fists are clenching, his back's arching, and Natasha knows he was almost over the edge. "Bruce, I need you to listen to me." She says in the calmest voice she can muster.

"It's going to be alright. We're going to make it out of here okay. Stay with me, Bruce, I'm begging you. Keep control." Footsteps alert her to someone drawing closer – two, two people – and she looks up to see workmen running toward her. She makes a desperate hand gesture, and without waiting, they bolt.

"Bruce, I swear on my life, I will get you out of this alive…" he cuts across her with a loud an angry shout of pain and fury. Nat's eyes widen, and she watches, horror-struck, as the transformation takes place.

It's an awful thing to witness, and an awful thing to listen to. Bruce, normally calm and collected, is screaming in an animalist way, the thin fabric of his shirt ripping away from him as heavy green skin pushed forward. He grows almost three times his normal height, muscles rippling, still making those horrible noises.

Natasha's finally managed to pull her foot free, and she silently leaps to her feet – as is her trait – and stares at the man she knew.

Thought she knew, because this…well, this was a side of him she was unknown to.

He's leaning against the pipe, his body heaving as he adjusts to the other guy. But then, suddenly realizing someone was watching, he turns around, locks eyes with her, and his lip curls back, revealing yellow teeth. Natasha's breath catches, and she runs for it.

Nimbly and silently, she leaps up a set of ladders, glances over her shoulder at the Hulk, and then leaps onto the platform, just as the ladder's ripped away. She skids along hallways and passages, listening to the heavy form crashing its way behind her. But she's fast and small, whereas he is heavy and large, and she outruns him.

She finds a small passage way and crawls into it, shaking from head to toe. As she settles into the corner, her hand slowly lifts to her mouth, and she bites down hard. Her teeth sink into her flesh, and it hurts, but it also makes it harder to cry.

Now, the Black Widow is not scared easily, and she never, ever cried. But right now, sitting in that corner, thinking things over, she wants to burst into tears. She wants to shut herself away, shrivel up and cry, never be seen again. And she knows why.

Because just as the transformation was taking place on Bruce, his eyes connected with hers, and she could almost see the real him, the one she knew, shining through, begging for forgiveness for whatever hell he was about to wreak on the ship. And it tears her heart to bits.

He looked at her – he stared at her, practically begging her to understand that it wasn't his choice, that he didn't have any control over what he was doing.

It takes a moment for Natasha to realize just how badly she was shaking, and just how hard she's bit down on her hand. Her teeth leave marks that penetrate her flesh, and she can't keep her hand steady at all. Her walkie-talkie crackles and snaps in her ear, and blood from a cut above her eye drips down her cheek.

He almost killed me, she thinks to herself, thinking about the way the Hulk's eyes shone with the thirst for blood – her blood. Her stomach flip-flops, there's a pounding behind her eyes, and her throat feels as though it's been closed off. She's having trouble breathing, having trouble drawing in a breath, and even when she manages it, it hurts and scratches like someone's pouring gasoline down her throat and lighting it on fire.

And, before she can stop it, she throws up.

She heaves and coughs until she feels there is nothing left to pass, so instead she leans back against the pipe, wipes at her mouth and looks down at her grimy fingernails. The ship is in complete and utter chaos, and she's sitting down here next to her own vomit, saving her own ass.

He almost killed me, she thinks again, running a hand through her short, fiery red hair. She bites down on her hand again so hard she tastes metallic blood, and as she pulls it away and blinks down at the bright bits of maroon that had swelled up, she bursts into silent tears.

They swarm down her face and leave glistening tracks of filth. Her whole body shakes and she hates herself for it. You repulsive little beast, a voice whispers in her ear as more tears pour down her face, sitting here thinking about yourself while others are out there, risking their necks to keep you alive, how vile.

Don't listen to it, another meek, gentler voice whispers. You were almost killed by someone you thought to be your friend. You have every right to have a moment on your own.

Natasha still trembles violently, her hands shaking so much she could hardly see them, or maybe that's because of the tears. She feels sick, sitting down here, because she can hear the fight going on around her. And then, almost out of nowhere, she reaches into the holster at her side, pulls out her gun and fires it. A pipe bursts and let out some kind of gas, but she's past caring.

She knew this was coming, so she can't understand why she was so shocked when it happened. She knew Loki was using Bruce for his own twisted games, to destroy the ship, kill everyone on board, shit like that. She just didn't think it would happen so fast. The realization had only hit her a few hours before the engine blew up, less than, even.

The first person she thought to notify was Fury, but that had done shit to help her. The engine still blew to pieces while everyone was bickering and snapping at each other, and someone ripped out the grate from underneath her, Tony, Steve and Bruce, and she had been left to deal with the angry dude.

That's why she's sitting here, huddled in a corner, trying to piece things together. All she can figure out is that an engine is blown, Loki's probably about to escape, and their position is compromised. Oh, and that Clint's on the ship.

But she doesn't want to worry about that right now.

Voices ring through her ear – something about an engine, a power fan, a red lever, and then finally a word slips through her haze. Clint.

Fury's asking for someone to find him, someone to copy, to know that somebody, somewhere, was out there breathing, willing to kick his ass. Very slowly, she lifts her trembling hand to her ear, presses and says in a loud clear voice, "I copy."

She leaps to her feet instantly and takes off. Feet make no sound, breath is silent to her. She is the Black Widow – she is silent and deadly and one bite from her can kill you in seconds.

Or so she's heard.

A deafening roar rings in her ears, and she picks up her pace. Still, silent, quiet. Never making a noise on the metal of the ship, though she swings up and down through ladders and holes and most others would have made the loudest noise possible. But she's silent. Always silent.

And then, she catches sight of him. Walking with a purpose in his step, his famous bow held out in front of him. But this is not the Hawkeye she once knew – he's been manipulated and twisted into someone's minion. She turns down the aisle, moving lightly across the ground.

But of course, he hears her. He always hears her. He whips around – crystalline blue is what cold grey meets – and the bow is aiming at her, but Natasha's fast. Her foot strikes out before he even has time to blink.

Neck. Lock. Punch. Release. Swing. Duck. Swing. Duck. Swing. Duck. It's a well-rehearsed game – she's done it countless times.

She manages to knock the bow from his hands – maybe he's just taking pity on her – and he falls to his knees. Natasha locks her fingers in his hair, pulls back and slams his head into the metal railing. He falls backwards, she leaps out of the way, and she watches as the blood pours from his wound and he makes moans of pain before her.

Finally, he manages to pull himself from the floor, and as his eyes lock onto hers – they're normal, a voice whispers – she feels her heartstrings play a musical note of joy. "Nat?" He asks, rubbing at the blood. That's all he got out before her foot hits his face and he crumbles again.

"Why is he strapped up?" Natasha demands the first time she's allowed to see him. "He's not a fucking animal. Release the restraints. Release the fucking restraints!" Tony has to drag her out of there kicking and screaming, back to her compartment, where he dumps her on the bed.

Just before the door clicks shut, she mumbles into her pillow, "Fuck you, Stark. Fuck you." There's a moment of silence, and then Tony says drily, "Believe me, love, lots of people are trying." He slips out of the room and shuts the door a millisecond before the lamp hits it.

Two days later, she's sitting with Steve in front of a large window at midnight, a bottle of vodka balanced between them, each of them taking shots and telling each other secrets. She takes a swig, hands it to Steve and says with a hiccup, "I'm gonna kick Loki's ass."

Steve snorts and sprays vodka all over the window, which sends her into hysterics, and it takes almost 10 minutes before she finally wipes her eyes, still smiling, and pushes herself back into her seat. Steve takes another shot, turns to her, says, "Get in line, princess." And then he collapses.

The vodka bottle shatters all over the floor and she's screaming in laughter again.

Natasha's pretty sure she's losing her mind.

By the time Clint wakes up, she's sitting next to his bed (cage) and he tells her that he has a massive headache, and all she says is, "Drink this." And she hands him a cup of water with a powder in it. He skulls it in one go and lets out a sigh of relief. "Told me that it would curb the pain." She says crisply, snatching the cup back.

She's not entirely sure why she's so pissed off at him – she really has no right to – but for some odd reason, she wants to make him suffer, make him hurt. "You're pissed at me, aren't you, spidey?" He says, using the nickname he created for her years ago. The cup slips from her hand and bounces on the floor, leaving a trail, and she keeps her cool as best she can.

A single forbidden tear slips from her eye as she remembers, recalls her past, when Clint and her would aim shots and arrows and she'd always be silently amazed with his boy and how accurate it was. He only let her take a shot with it once, but she almost shot Fury in the good eye, so she never picked it up again.

After a moment of silence, Natasha spun around, looked once at Clint, and walked out, the door slamming loudly shut behind her.

Maybe it's not that bad to lose your mind, she thought to herself as she stood in the destructive mess that used to be her bedroom, her hands bleeding from cuts of glass. Because at least if people think you're insane, they'll steer clear.

Natasha and Clint didn't talk about that day, and while Natasha was glad, she also felt a bit annoyed, because, well, she did want him to suffer, just a bit.

Just a bit, though. Not much.

Vas Happening? So, this is going to be kind of a Black Widow multi chapter because I saw the Avengers a few days ago, and she was my favourite character because she kicked ass! I will make it Widow-centric, because she seems very destroyable, so I hope you enjoy this, and keep checking back for more!
HPloveofmylife