The cold Moscow night was the only constant in their lives. It was years before the world knew Natasha Romanoff as Black Widow, long before she became an Avenger, and before Snake Eyes became the silent shadow he was now. Back then, they were just two survivors in the unforgiving environment of the Red Room, the brutal training program designed to turn young operatives into deadly weapons. The cold wasn't just external—it permeated everything about their existence.
Snake Eyes stood silently in the training hall, his breath steady despite the freezing temperature. His eyes, even then, were sharp and focused, unwavering as they watched the other recruits move through the grueling exercises. But while most of the students stumbled, their movements weighed down by exhaustion, there was one who moved with a lethal grace that matched his own.
Natasha Romanoff, her hair pulled back into a severe braid, sparred with a larger opponent, her slender form weaving in and out of reach as her fists struck with precision. She didn't have the brute strength to overpower him, but what she lacked in size, she more than made up for in speed and agility. Every movement was calculated, every strike intentional. It wasn't long before her opponent hit the ground, groaning in pain.
Snake Eyes felt the faintest flicker of admiration. Even in those days, he could see the potential in her. They had both been through more than most of the others in the program. While the Red Room broke most people, turning them into empty shells or killing them outright, Snake Eyes and Natasha had survived. More than that—they had thrived.
The overseers took notice, too. They began pairing Snake Eyes and Natasha for missions, recognizing the deadly efficiency of the duo. Snake Eyes was already a mystery to most. An American soldier who had undergone extensive ninja training, his silence and discipline made him a standout in the Red Room, though he kept his past shrouded in secrecy. Natasha, on the other hand, had been molded by the Red Room from a young age, her entire existence shaped by its cruelty. Together, they became an unstoppable force.
But even in those early days, there was something between them that went beyond their training. It was unspoken, just like most things with Snake Eyes, but it was there—a connection that neither of them had with anyone else. Natasha would catch his gaze across the training yard, and though they didn't exchange words, there was an understanding between them. In the missions they carried out, whether it was eliminating targets or extracting intel, they operated as one mind, one unit.
It wasn't long before their bond deepened.
One night, after a particularly brutal mission in the freezing streets of Saint Petersburg, Snake Eyes and Natasha found themselves sitting side by side in the safehouse, a fire crackling in the small fireplace. The mission had been successful, but it had come at a cost. The violence they were forced to commit was the price of survival in the Red Room, and that night, the weight of it pressed down on both of them.
Natasha sat silently beside him, staring into the flames. Her usual confidence was gone, replaced by a haunted look in her eyes. Snake Eyes watched her, his expression unreadable behind the mask he always wore. He knew that look too well. It was the look of someone who had seen too much death, too much suffering, and was starting to feel the cracks forming.
After a long silence, Natasha spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you ever wonder if there's anything left of us? Anything… human?"
Snake Eyes didn't respond immediately. Instead, he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. It was a rare gesture from him, one of the few times he allowed himself to make any physical connection with another person. But Natasha didn't flinch. She didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into the touch, her body relaxing slightly as if drawing strength from his presence.
They stayed like that for a long time, neither of them speaking, just two broken people trying to survive in a world that demanded they become something less than human.
The next day, they were back in the field, the connection between them stronger than ever. But something had changed. There was a new layer to their partnership, a trust that went beyond mere survival. Snake Eyes and Natasha had become more than just comrades-in-arms. They had become something closer, something more personal, though neither of them would ever put it into words.
The missions continued, and with each one, they grew more lethal, more precise. Their reputation within the Red Room soared, and the overseers began to take special interest in their progress. But with that attention came new dangers. The Red Room was a place that tolerated no weakness, no hesitation. And while Snake Eyes and Natasha were unmatched in combat, they knew that any sign of personal attachment could be used against them.
It was during one such mission—an extraction in Eastern Europe—that everything changed.
They had been sent to retrieve a high-level asset, a scientist who had defected from the Soviet Union and held crucial intelligence. The mission was supposed to be routine—get in, secure the target, and extract. But when they arrived at the scientist's hideout, they walked into a trap. Enemy operatives, highly trained and heavily armed, were waiting for them.
The fight was brutal. Snake Eyes and Natasha fought side by side, their movements perfectly synchronized, but the numbers were against them. As they made their way through the building, eliminating the enemy operatives one by one, Natasha was struck by a sniper's bullet. She went down hard, blood pooling beneath her as she clutched her side.
Snake Eyes didn't hesitate. In one fluid motion, he finished off the last operative, then rushed to her side, kneeling beside her as he assessed the wound. It was bad. The bullet had punctured her lung, and she was struggling to breathe. For the first time since he had met her, Snake Eyes saw fear in Natasha's eyes.
But even then, she didn't panic. She grabbed his arm, her grip surprisingly strong despite the blood loss. "Don't… don't let them take me back there," she gasped, her voice ragged. "The Red Room… they'll finish what they started."
Snake Eyes' jaw clenched beneath his mask. He knew exactly what she meant. The Red Room didn't tolerate failure, and an injury like this would be seen as a weakness. If they returned to base, Natasha would be "reconditioned"—a fate worse than death. She had seen too much, done too much, to go through that again.
Without a word, Snake Eyes lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the building. The extraction point was still several miles away, but he didn't stop. He moved through the dense forest with the same silent precision he always had, his senses heightened by the urgency of the situation.
For hours, they moved through the wilderness, the only sounds the crunch of snow beneath Snake Eyes' boots and Natasha's labored breathing. She drifted in and out of consciousness, but every time she stirred, she would look up at him, her eyes full of a silent plea.
Finally, they reached the extraction point, where a helicopter waited to take them back to base. But instead of returning to the Red Room, Snake Eyes made a decision that would change both of their lives forever.
He contacted an old S.H.I.E.L.D. operative he had once worked with, someone who could help them disappear. The arrangements were made in secret, and within hours, Natasha was airlifted to a safe location, far from the reach of the Red Room. Snake Eyes stayed behind, covering her tracks and ensuring that no one would follow.
When Natasha woke up days later, her wounds tended and her body weak from the ordeal, she found herself in a small, remote safehouse. Snake Eyes was there, sitting silently in the corner, his mask still in place. He had saved her life, but he had also severed their connection to the Red Room. They were fugitives now, both of them.
For a moment, they simply looked at each other, the weight of their decision hanging in the air. They had escaped, but they had also burned every bridge behind them.
"You didn't have to do that," Natasha said quietly, her voice still hoarse from the injury.
Snake Eyes remained silent, but his eyes told her everything she needed to know. He had made his choice, and he would stand by it, no matter the cost.
They were free, but their lives would never be the same.