Work Text:
When you sit in tent over Baikal highway for 12 days waiting for one car, the mental hygiene is as necessary as physical one. While their mark gather courage to try cross the bottleneck they are guarding, they talk.
Clint tells her embarrassing stories about SHIELD agents, they shamelessly rumor about Fury and weather Hill will get assistants position she is plotting so hard to get. They even place bet if Hill was behind stray bullet that sent previous administrative assistant in long time ago deserved retirement with family (Clint says it was, Natasha says it wasn't. Natasha thinks it is Fury behind that that bullet).
Just to keep mind sharp, they each come up with scenario how to bring down helicarrier and later mercilessly pick apart weak spots of others scenarios. Then they invade White house, Kremlin, each others safe houses (ones they know about), throw together plan of becoming monarchs of small European country (the fact that is manageable plan and honestly, easier then half of the SHIELD missions is scary).
All surprise blows come unseen (otherwise it would not be surprise blow, right?), so Clint's question what she plans to do when retired makes her choke on thin air. He still has no clue about her true face.
This partnership they have, Natasha likes it. They are efficient, the work is easier and honestly, the lethal result risk is at least 27% lover then without others support. If Barton would understand that she is molded to do this and not meant to have anything apart mission at hand, the failure and lethal result risk would lower even more, so she takes moment to figure how to explain how truly beyond broken she is.
"You know, in soviet Russia there is a myth. It comes from government, an attempt to impart new moral code on population. It goes like this."
Eyes on road, looking for black Niva the target is driving, she tells.
"In a small village deep in Russia, there were Morozovi family – mom, dad and their son, Pavlik Morozov. The communism came, the kolhoz started and Morozovi joined collective farming. The first winter was harsh and famine was on the doorstep, but government gathered whatever everyone had at home with promise to spread it honestly."
Natasha looks to Clint and raises eyebrow in telltale sign what she thinks about that promise.
"Not trusting communist government, Pavliks dad hid the bags with grain what he would need as seed next spring. Being good little communist to be, Pavlik Morozov went to party representative and denounced his father. The grain was taken and Pavliks father was shot because that is what you get for working against communism. Then at night partisans came from forest, where they were hiding from punishment for not joining collective farming soon enough, and shoot Pavlik to death as traitor. Soviet child martyr and hero was born."
She laughs, while Clint tries to figure out if she is making this up.
"You can look it up, Barton and don't give me that look, I am not bullshiting you. This story has many variations, but the idea is same – people who engineered me, also had elementary schools named after 12 year old boy who knowingly condemned his father to death for trying to save his family from famine next year."
There is a file of cars coming their way so they pause to evaluate, but the story still lingers between them.
"And you know what is the scariest? Soviet people tell this story in that special way how they speak about everything that has double meaning. Everyone knows that Pavlik was little piece of shit and in this case roots for partisans from forest."
Natasha continues when they are sure that cars are just local businessmen out to drink and hunt. There is still a point she has to make.
"Except for black widows. We are pavlik morozov, molded and polished to hold loyalty to cause above any other ties, ready and willing to betray anything if it obscures idea we work for."
Eyes glued to monitor, she speaks
"My ideological conditioning is muddled, but it took me 3 years off red room meds and explanation on fingers before I understood that being called Pavlik Morozov isn't a compliment. I am not sure if I am able to make ethical distinctions at all. And that means I have no life outside strict rules and boundaries without becoming what I was – efficient murderer without moral compass."
Before he can say something, there is new line of cars and this time it is their target, so they leave conversation as it is, to pick it up years later when they have to decide if they are fit to make decisions as avengers.