A/N: Welcome back!

This is the sequel to my other story One More Night. I extremely recommend reading that one first otherwise you will be extremely lost!

Anyways enjoy this first chapter and don't forget to review!

Chapter 1

He was running.

Running down some hallway, searching frantically for the room Tony has told him she was in. His blood pounded in his ears as he pushed his battered body on. He had to be close.

"To your right, Barton," Tony called out through the earwig. He sounded out of breath, like a new wave of soldiers had appeared.

Clint skidded to a halt, turned to his right and kicked the door in.

Natasha lay crumpled in the middle of the room, her body eerily still. Clint collapsed next to her taking her body up in his arms. There was so much blood; blood everywhere he could see. He touched her neck desperately searching for a pulse, but there wasn't one. He was too late.

"Tasha," he whispered his voice thick with tears.

He ran his hand down her body to her abdomen to where their baby should be. All he found was a huge gash. He had lost both of them.

"She said you would come," Petrovitch said, his voice dripping with amusement.

Clint clenched his jaw. He brushed her matted curls out of her face and tenderly touched her bruised cheek.

"Of course I would," Clint growled keeping his head bows.

Petrovitch slowly walked around to where he stood in front of the archer.

"You ruined her," Petrovitch murmured.

"No, you did. I fixed her," Clint snapped, his body shaking with anger.

Clint watched Petrovitch shift his weight in frustration.

"The child is dead. She wasn't strong enough to survive," Petrovitch spat trying to rile Clint up.

"I rather she be dead then in your hands," Clint replied keeping is tone even.

"Hawkeye, have you found her?" Steve asked through the earwig.

Clint didn't respond.

"Hawkeye! Do you copy?" Steve continued his voice sounding desperate.

Clint leaned down and kissed Natasha gently on the lips. "I love you," he whispered before sitting back up.

He could hear Petrovitch shaking as he drew his gun.

"LOOK AT ME YOU BASTARD!" Petrovitch hissed.

Clint took a deep breath and raised his head. He met Petrovitch's gaze for a moment.

"Run, Cap," Clint said before a gun shot rang out.

Clint sat straight up in bed breathing heavily. His legs were tangled in the sweat drenched sheets. The room was still pitch black except for the red light on the alarm clock.

"I've been told it's better to just let someone finish out their nightmare, otherwise they just come back," came a voice near the door.

Clint peered into the darkness trying to determine who was in the room. Steve slowly shuffled forward into view. He was clad in loose sleep pants and a white undershirt.

"Steve," Clint breathed.

"I asked JARVIS to monitor you if that's okay. I was worried. He told me you were distressed so I came to see what was wrong," Steve explained sitting down on the foot of the bed.

Clint glanced over at the clock, "Its 3 in the morning Cap."

"I slept for 70 years, I don't sleep much now," Steve answered quietly.

Clint relaxed his shoulders a bit and sunk back onto his elbows.

"What was it about?" Steve asked.

"We found her dead," Clint mumbled.

"Well, you know that isn't true. You saw her vitals earlier today she was alive and more relaxed." Steve said.

"The baby was dead too," Clint whispered.

Steve was silent.

"Yeah, you can't tell me that it's alive," Clint grumbled.

"I know. Tony and Bruce have been tracking her though. We are trying to find her. Damn the Council. It's wrong for them to send her to Russia in the first place," Steve said.

Clint stayed silent. Steve got up and walked over to the door. "Get some sleep, Hawkeye," he said before closing the quietly.

Clint sunk back down into his pillows. He rolled over on his side and placed his hand on the empty side of the bed. It had been four long months.

Each night he was plagued by nightmares about Natasha dying in many painful and gruesome ways. He couldn't eat without feeling sick to his stomach. The images from each nightmare were burned into his skull. He could tell he had lost weight since she had left. If the others had noticed, they had decided not to mention it.

All he could think about was time was running out and they were nowhere closer to finding her.

"снова!" Petrovitch snapped as he paced behind a group of girls sparring. (Again)

Natasha sat back at the back of the gym silently observing. She could clearly remember every session she had in here, learning to fight, to defend, to kill. Now she watched these young girls learn the very same skills.

She took particular interest in one of the older girls. Her name was Anya. She was 12 years old.

Natasha watched the girl struggle to return moves after blocking her opponent. The girl lacked balance. Natasha could that Petrovitch was getting angry. The vein in his neck was bulging and his face was flushed red.

Anya lost her footing for a moment and found herself lying flat on her back with her opponent's hand wrapped around her throat. Petrovitch shoved the other girl off of Anya and yanked her up with by the collar of her shirt.

"Natalia!" Petrovitch growled. "убить ее!" (Kill her)

Natasha stayed still.

"Natalia!" Petrovitch warned turning to face her.

Natasha stiffened her shoulders and walked over to the mat. The look on Anya's face cut into Natasha's heart. The girl was terrified.

"Сэр, я не могу бороться Black Widow," Anya said softly (Sir, I cannot fight the Black widow)

"Then you will die!" Petrovitch spat in English. He nodded to Natasha who stepped forward.

Anya readied herself. Natasha kept her expression blank as she circled the girl. Anya's head whipped around, tracking Natasha's movements.

Natasha caught Anya off guard when he head was turned and swiftly knocked her to her knees with a strategic blow to the back of her knees.

Anya gasped and fell to the mat.

"Learn to listen for your attacker; do not follow them with your eyes. You create blind spots that way," Natasha said.

The other girls that had been sparring stopped to watch.

Anya scrambled back to her feet, readying herself again. The girl threw the first punch, which Natasha easily blocked with her fist. She twisted her hand and flipped the girl to where she held her arm behind her back.

Anya yelped in surprise. She struggled for a moment before turning her body back around to throw a punch at Natasha's head. The older woman ducked and released the girl's wrist. Anya stumbled back a few steps before launching herself back at Natasha.

She kicked high, towards Natasha's chest, but failed. Natasha caught her ankle and flipped her to the ground with a thud.

"You must move quicker," Natasha instructed taking a few steps back. She planted her feet firmly, "Again."

Anya growled softly as she got to her feet. She shook her arms to loosen up before advancing once more. This time she put more power into the punches she threw. Natasha could feel the girl's muscles tense with every throw.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Petrovitch smirking.

Her momentary distraction was Anya's advantage. The girl managed to get back enough to where she could launch a powerful kick to Natasha's abdomen. Natasha was able to slightly block the blow and absorb the force, but the girl's boot still came into contact with her stomach causing her to fall back in sudden pain.

She saw Petrovitch lunge at Anya. She had seen that look in his eye before and it wasn't a good one. Thinking quickly she whipped her legs around to knock Petrovitch to the mat. The other girls gasped in shock.

"Never let your opponent think you are down," Natasha said clutching her middle.

Anya nodded at her and gave her a small bow. Petrovitch made a strange noise that was between a growl and yell. He got up and grabbed a handful of Natasha's hair, yanking her head back.

"Nor do you let a damn archer poison your mind!" Petrovitch yelled shoving her to the ground.

Natasha groaned and rolled onto her knees to where she was kneeling. Petrovitch straightened his jacket and pants and turned on the girls.

"Прочь! Все вы!" He yelled. (Away, All of you)

The girls scurried off leaving Natasha with Petrovitch.

"Get up, spider," he hissed.

Natasha sucked in a deep breath before standing and following the man out of the gym. He led her back to her cell and pushed her in.

Natasha stumbled and turned to see the door slam. She sighed and crossed to her pitiful excuse for a bed. She sat down and pulled up the hem of her shirt to exam her stomach. There was a bruise beginning to form just below her rib cage that was tender to the touch.

It was certainly not the worst she had had. Clint had down more damage to her in there sparring matches. What worried her was the fact that it hurt so much. She ran her fingers along the outline of the bruise and down to the top of her black sweat pants.

There was a knock at the door that caused her to yank her shirt back down.

"Войдите," She called out. (Come in)

Two small heads poked around the door, one of which was Anya.

The other girl held a tray of food in her arms.

"мы принесли вам еду." Anya said softly. (We brought you food)

"спасибо. Вы говорите по английски?" Natasha answered. (Thank you. Do you speak English?)

"Yes, we have to," Anya answered her English heavily accented.

"Come sit, I won't hurt you," Natasha said patting the bed. The two girls cautiously sat down next to her and handed her the tray.

It was the same food she had been eating for the past month. There was fresh fruit, hearty bread, cheese, some dried meat, and water.

She nibbled on the bread and offered the fruit to the girls.

"No, you eat it. We would get in trouble if we did," Anya said shaking her head.

"I'll be fine. You two are eyeing it like you're starving," Natasha said offering the banana again.

The younger girl shook her head, "No you need it!" she exclaimed.

"What is your name?" Natasha asked taking a sip of the water, "How old are you?"

"Lida, and I'm six," the small girl answered softly.

"Okay, Lida, why do I need it? You are young and growing, I am not," Natasha said.

"But you are," Lida protested.

Natasha looked at the girls confused. Anya's eyes widened.

"What?" Natasha whispered.

"Lida, shush," Anya hissed, she made a move to leave.

"No! No don't go! What does she mean?" Natasha asked panicking.

Anya swallowed loudly, nervously glancing from the door to Natasha. Natasha tracked the girl's eyes down to her stomach. Her heart stopped.

"What does she mean?" Natasha asked again in a low voice.

Lida leaned forward and touched Natasha's abdomen, "Here," she said looking up at the red head.

"I'm pregnant?" Natasha whispered looking to Anya for confirmation

"Yes, that is why he got mad at me for kicking you," Anya explained.

Natasha choked back a sob, her hand drifting to her stomach.

Anya glanced back at the door. "We need to go, Lida," she said.

The two girls got up and walked to the door. They lingered in the doorway for a moment before Lida ran back to Natasha and wrapped her arms around her neck.

"Don't worry, we'll protect you," Lida whispered before pulling away and following Anya out the door.

Natasha took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. But it didn't help. The tears flooded over and her breaths turned to sobs that rocked her body. She wrapped her arms around her middle protectively.

Her mind was reeling; trying to calculate how far along she was. Her thoughts weren't coming clearly. There were too many times when she could have conceived.

Natasha moved the food tray to the floor and curled up in a ball on the bed. Her fingertips gently caressed her abdomen.

She was pregnant. They had lied to her all those years ago. Her heart broke further. She was pregnant with Clint's baby and he would most likely never know.

A/N: Sooooo? What do think? This story is complete so I'll update regularly again (well as best as kind... you know... college and all)