A cut on her face had scabbed over; the dried blood that had come off the wound earlier still stained her face. If he hadn't seen Clint he definitely would think that excessive force had been used.

"She's definitely a fighter." Clint groused as he iced his eye. It was starting to swell from one of the girl's hits. "Shame she's like what, twelve?"

"That's my best guess." Bruce said as he waved a hand to the screen in front of him "We're hoping for a hit for her in missing persons but that could take a while if she's foreign."

"Yeah. I know. She doing okay?"

"Meditating. Hasn't touched any of the food we left her." A sandwich and bottle of water were near the door, unbothered.

"I wouldn't either if I were her." Clint replied. "It's basic training.” he shrugged. “Natasha wants to talk to her later but first she's following a few leads on the Russian kid."

"Think she can find his identity?" Bruce would be amazed if she could. Clint shrugged.

"Depends who talks and how openly he was trained."

"She wants to take the girl out of the cell as soon as possible."

"Show her we aren't interested in using her as a weapon." Clint suggested.

"Exactly but doubt that will happen soon. Kid probably is loyal to the bastard." Clint gave a disgusted look.

“I’ve seen a lot of shit but kids always are different, you know?” Bruce was silent. Clint put down the ice pack. “I want a shot at her.”

“Do you think we should wait? Natasha has first hand experience with this.” Clint shook his head, his mouth set in a grim line.

"We need to give her medical care." Clint said.

"She refused." More like fought so hard that they were afraid that forcing the issue would cause more injuries.

"She could get an infection and who knows what injuries she might have from her time with Daredevil."

"You want to force her? We're trying to earn her trust not set her against us even more."

“Of course not.” Clint sighed. “But I have kids, I’ve worked with them before. I think I have a shot at least until Natasha gets back. We can’t just let her sit there and wonder, starve. Hell I’ll take a bite of the sandwich and offer it to her.”

“Can’t be worse than what she was eating.”

Clint sighed. “You think it’s worth it?”

“Yes.” Bruce replied. He smiled. “I don’t think I’d be much help, especially if she fights.” Clint nodded. Bruce sighed and watched him leave. He turned his attention back to the girl. She was sitting cross legged.

The minutes passed. She opened her eyes and immediately stood. Bruce frowned and then it deepened when Clint opened the door a moment later. Had she heard him? That should be almost impossible. The walls were thick, not sound proof but enough that any normal would have an almost impossible time picking up anything but the loudest objects.

Clint spoke. Bruce enabled the audio.

"-help. I know you don't trust us. That's smart. But we're the Avengers, you have to know we're the good guys."

She glared and shifted her weight. "Is there anything to get you trust us?" She stayed silent. "Don't you want to live a normal life? No one will hurt you-" she laughed. It was a bitter thing. Clint looked apologetic. "I guess you had a taste of it and it was shitty."

She glared but her eyes had a sheen of tears for the smallest of seconds. Regret? Sadness? Frustration? It was hard to place as her expression shifted to a snarl.

"Leave me alone." She said simply.

"Can you let us clean you up at least? That cut has to sting."

"I can do it. Leave me a kit." Clint nodded and smiled. It was a concession at least.

"I can do that. Is there anything we can call you? A name?" She gave a churlish smile.

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

Bruce sighed. Of course that would be too much. "We can call you Peanut then?" The girl shrugged. "We really do want to help you and the others. If only because we're sorry for well the loss of your friend."

"I do not have or need friends." She said with out a hint of irony. It sounded rehearsed. Indoctrination is confirmed. Bruce thought.

"Doesn't that sound lonely." Clint tried. She glared. Clint tried a few more attempts at conversation. She didn't speak. He managed to get her to eat at least. After which he left and brought back a medical kit. She cleaned her wounds then watch him leave. After which she let out a scream of fury and trashed everything in the small cell.

She didn't looked bothered but sat back down. She meditated.

Clint frowned at the screen when he returned to him. "Well I was joking about her having anger issues but it looks like she actually does have them."

She looked restless and after a moment spoke, it wasn't to them. "Truth is more than a mental exercise." She said and continued in a tone too low for the mics to pick up.

"More conditioning?"

"No, that sounds familiar." Bruce did a quick search. "Ah, Thurtood Marshall. Odd."

"Why odd? She quoted Shakespeare."

"Yeah but Marshall is more known in certain circles. Shakespeare is all over. You probably know te plot to many of his works even if you never saw it."

"So what, you think Marshall is a sign of where she's been?"

"Maybe. She could also be well read."

"Would a lawyer know Marshall?"

"Yes."

"I think we need to take another look at Nelson and Murdock. I think they know more than they know."

"That will have to wait." Natasha said as she came in. She looked harried.

"Why?"

"Daredevil's taken Pepper."

"What?" Bruce jumped. Tony was going to lose his shit at this. He was in DC at the moment but he'd come once he heard. "How?"

"Yeah. In the last hour. Ambush. Boy must have known who we were." She sighed. "He left a note. He wants the girl back. Then he'll let Pepper go."

"Tony's going to kill him."

"Let's talk to the girl again."

"You talked to her?" Natasha sounded angry.

"She needed medial treatment."she nodded and glanced at the screen. They'd see how good the girl's training was under Red Room tactics.