Natasha wasn't sure how long she'd been in her cell by the time Ross's men reappeared. There was no way to know for sure, but she knew it hadn't been long. She had tactics to count time when missions went wrong and she ended up as a momentary prisoner, but she hadn't yet resorted to them when Ross's men appeared down the hall.

She wasn't surprised that they'd returned so soon. If Ross was willing to upset things with the Avengers so soon after signing the new Accords, there had to be something he needed.

"On your feet."

Natasha lazily stood up, watching the guard closely. Something shifted in his eyes as she continued to stare at him and his next command was less confident.

"Don't move."

Several of the guards raised their guns as the doors slowly slid open. They stepped inside and three men moved forward to return the cuffs to her wrists. She didn't fight back and when they led her out of the cell, she flashed a smile at the commanding guard who immediately stiffened. That was good. He was afraid of her even when she had the cuffs on.

After a long walk through the prison, she was brought into a room with bright lights and men in white coats. The scene was not reassuring and for a moment, she was reminded of decades earlier in the Red Room. She stiffened, but the guards continued to push her forward.

"Welcome, Miss Romanova," a man said, stepping forward to greet her. "I'm so glad you could join us."

Natasha didn't move as a guard removed the cuffs then held her tightly. She didn't respond to the man, though he clearly expected her to because he hesitated.

When she didn't give him so much as a nod, he turned to the guards and instructed, "Bring her here."

They shuffled Natasha over to a vertical table and followed the instructions from the man in the lab coat as they strapped her wrists down. The restraints chaffed against her burned wrists and she frowned, but they didn't adjust them.

Once satisfied that Natasha was well enough restrained, the guards left the room with a nod to the remaining lab coats. 

"Hello, Miss Romanoff," the first man said, peering over at her. "We'll just be doing some tests here, so your corporation would be appreciated."

Natasha's scowl was the only response he got in return.

* * * * *

Natasha didn't remember being brought back to her cell. She didn't remember passing out or why she was now cuffed in her cell. From the moment the guards had left her side, she didn't remember much of anything. The only thing she seemed aware of was pain.

From her head to her ankles, everything ached and burned. Even breathing was painful and she hadn't moved yet.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and found herself laying on the floor of her cell. She attempted to sit up, but her hands spasmed and she couldn't seem to find the strength to push herself upright. With a groan, she collapsed back to the floor and tried to remember out what had happened.

The only clear memory she had was of the first man telling her that she might feel a small pain.  Based on the way her body felt, she doubted it had been a small pain at all.

The harder she thought, the more she remembered. It was blurry and certain memories made her hyperaware of her aching body, but it was a start. 

She tried sitting up again, but couldn't muster the strength. Her hands slipped and her head hit the floor painfully as she dropped back down.

As she hit her head, her memories came back. There had been medical tests, but then they had tried drowning her. They'd forced her head underwater and she hadn't been able to breathe. At that moment, she had decided to fight back. She remembered snapping the necks of two men before the guards came in and restrained her.

Unfortunately, her attack had led to further punishment. She'd been taken out of the testing room and her hands tied above her head. The best and only way she could think of describing the abuse that had followed was to say she'd become a temporary punching bag. 

Bruises littered her arms and the burns on her wrists had been chaffed by the rope so badly that they were bleeding through the cloth she'd tied them with.

There were still holes in her memory, but she'd lived through enough to know that sometimes not knowing was best. Rather than try and press for more memories, she decided to try going back to sleep. She healed quickly, so if she could only fall asleep, maybe her body would hurt less.