The last thing she remembered was screaming at him to 'get the fuck off me' as he viciously thrusted into her against her will, sank his teeth deep into her skin, and closed his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. What was happening never stopped. The man never stopped. She was powerless. Her limbs refused to move, as hard as she tried. She was disoriented, the room spinning around in multiple directions. Her body was slow, so slow it couldn't even attempt a reaction. Her head was pounding, but she felt everything, and she...she just let him. As painful as it was, she couldn't do anything in the moment, she knew she should scream and fight, but her body doing neither. Weakly feeling for the knife tucked behind her bra strap, she grasped the cold metal. In one fast motion, she slit the man's throat, hot blood splattering the left side of her face, before she used all her strength and threw him off her. Now it was over.

She was walking slowly down the deserted block towards her apartment, her arms cradling herself closely. She could still hardly move, the drug still coursing through her system, and with every stride, she felt another sting of pain. Her dress was ripped up the side, one strap snapped and dangling while the other hung down her shoulder. She limped into her apartment, locking the door behind her and heading straight for her bathroom. Shutting the door closed, she placed her hands against the counter top to observe herself in the mirror. She had blueish purple bruises on her face, and bite marks on her neck, collarbone, and shoulders, one of the bites having gone so deep it broke through her skin. She had a gash across her left cheek, and her hair was a disastrous mess. Her mascara smeared under her eyes and down her cheeks from her tears. She could hardly hold herself up anymore when she dropped to the ground, her back sliding down the cabinet. She landed on the tile floor. She had small bruises covering her legs, and another gash on her thigh. She couldn't take the pain, and she was scared. How the fuck did this happen?

Steve. She went out that night in an attempt to run from her feelings for him. Things had been changing between them, and earlier that evening he kissed her, after telling her he loved her. She kissed him back at first, loving the feel of his lips against hers. She wanted to tell him she loved him too. That she has been in love with him for months, but she also couldn't stop that voice in her head screaming at her that he was too good for her. After the kiss ended, she whispered she was 'sorry' and that she couldn't do this. She walked away, leaving him there stunned. She went out to the club by her apartment that night in a shitty attempt to forget him. With Steve on her mind, she was distracted and stupid. So stupid in fact that she had no idea the man slipped something into her drink until it was too late.

She did a good job making herself look different, using her skills to look and act different than the deadly Avenger she really was. That was what saved her in the end. She needed Steve so much it hurt. In too much pain, she reached for her phone and sent one word to him in a text message. 'Help'

Natasha sat there for a moment, realizing how much she had fucked everything up. Everything hurt and none of it was in her control. Not being able to stand the pain, and hearing Steve's own words of warning in her head, was too much. She needed to feel control. Knowing she promised him she would never go down that road again, she still reached up and rummaged through the drawer until she found scissors, pulling them out. She took the blade, first running the sharp edge along her forearm, blood dripping slightly from the cut area, but it wasn't enough. She needed more. A slight gasp escaped her lips as she felt the blade run along her skin a little deeper this time. It cut deep enough to ooze blood. There, much better…but also not really. At least she had control over why she was bleeding this time. She dropped the scissors to the ground, blood splattering on the floor and her thigh, head slamming back against the cabinet. She sat there, letting the blood run down her leg to the floor, eyes slowly shutting herself out from this shitty world, tears building and, streaming down her cheeks. This was her relief. This was her therapy. Her fucked up happiness.

She slowly awoke, hearing loud thuds against the door to her apartment. "Natasha? Nat! Where are you!?" Steve yelled franticly.

She wasn't completely up, still felt like she was someplace else, someplace better, but she was awake enough to notice that she was face down, groggy, sprawled out on the bathroom floor.

"Nat, open the door! Natasha, open the door! Are you in there?!" There was a loud bang, and she heard the door burst open. "Oh g- Nat, what the…? Nat..." She heard a voice, felt a hand on her. Still in a fog and terrified she flinched when he touched her shoulder. She jolted backwards, throwing herself halfway across the bathroom floor. She looked back up to see it was him, and she quickly pulled her knees to her chest. She could see the fear and hurt in his eyes as he observed her bloody and broken before him. Moving slowly, afraid to startle her, he slid closer to where she huddled.

"Nat...Nat it's-" he choked on his words because he didn't want to believe what was in front of him. Horrified inside, he placed a gentle hand on her knee. She flinched and then exhaled nervously before relaxing against his touch, because this was Steve. This was the man who wouldn't dare hurt her. She let her eyes begin to water a little, muscles starting to shake from his touch, from her fears, from the horror of the last few hours.

"Nat, what happened?" he asked softly.

"It's…it's nothing." She mumbled weakly, looking around her to see the floor painted red with her blood, glancing at her wounds before quickly looking away.

"Natasha, this...this isn't nothing. What the hell happened tonight?" he replied a little more urgently, his fingers going to the bite mark on her neck.

"I was drugged," she said slowly. "He drugged me...and...and I was, fucking helpless." She couldn't keep it inside anymore, "I couldn't do shit, and I was so damn weak...I was so stupid. I let my guard down, and he drugged me. I tried to fight, but I couldn't make my body move. He…he…Oh God, Steve." She didn't finish before his arms were around her, and she was crying into his chest.
"Oh, Nat, …" he breathed, hating himself for letting her walk away earlier.

"Who did this to you? Do you know who…"

She cut him off. "Dead."

He pulled away to look at her before getting to his feet, gently taking her with him. The sounds she made from the pain cut into his heart. He lifted her slowly onto the counter, taking his hands away for the first aid kit, looking over her body at the cuts and bite marks, wincing.

"Nat, a couple of band aids isn't going to help you, I've got to take you to the hosp-"

"No!"

"Nat, you can't-"

"I don't want them touching me!" she screamed in a plea, tears staining her cheeks. He could see the fear in her eyes. "Just, just do what you can, please."

He sighed before he grabbed peroxide, pouring it slowly onto a towel and pressing it as gently as he could to the mark on her neck. "Nat, this…God, this needs stitches." He winced again.

"Then you do it," she simply replied.

He reached into the first aid kit. Carefully, he filled a syringe with Lidocaine and swabbed around the bite mark on her neck. She looked away as he also injected the area with the numbing medication and gently sutured the skin around the wound. Steve glanced at her before moving on to the wound on her thigh. The cut on her cheek wasn't as bad as the blood made it out to be. He added more peroxide to the towel, pressing on the other bite marks, wanting to disinfect them before he moved to the cuts on her arms.

"Nat...is this what I think it is… did you do this?" he asked, and she nodded in shame, dropping her eyes back down. He gently placed his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You promised…" he whispered.

"I know, I'm sorry. I…" she said, barely able to meet his eyes.

"Why…" he asked, already knowing the answer.

She pulled her chin out of his grasp and looked away.

"I'm sorry Nat. I'm so sorry… I should've…" he whispered to her.

"Stop. Please, just…stop. I screwed up, Steve. Not you." She sighed, wincing in pain again realizing how uncomfortable she was getting every second.

Catching her chin back in his hand, he held her gaze. "I love you, Natasha. No matter how much you fight me on it, I love you and that will never change. So, please stop pushing me away," he said.

"Okay," she whispered, hating herself for not saying more.

He took care of the cut on her forearm, bandaging it gently. He checked for any other injuries before pushing the kit to the side and hugging her, vowing to never let go again. She needed his warmth, needed to know she was still breathing, still alive. She kissed his neck, letting more tears slip from her eyes. He moved one hand to her legs, the other supporting her back, picking her up and walking to her bed. He set her down softly, but she didn't want to let go of him. He pulled her arms away, going over to the drawer to pull out a fresh pair of shorts and t-shirt for her. He walked back over to her, and handed her the clothes.

As he got up to leave again she caught his wrist, stopping him. "Steve, wait! Please don't leave me! Stay with me!" she whispers to him, meeting his eyes.

"I'm not leaving, Nat, but you're in pain. Do you have anything I can get you?"

"Umm. There's some pain medication left in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. I have it left over. They prescribed it for my ankle injury from our last mission. It works, but it knocks me out for a couple hours. I don't really like to take it. So maybe just grab the Advil -"

He cut her off. "I'll be here, Nat. Let me get it. Okay?"

Natasha just nodded her head, her eyes looking down at the clothes he placed in her hands. "Thanks," she whispered.

Thankful that he had something to do, Steve headed to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He then went back down the hall towards the bathroom and stopped at Natasha's medicine cabinet. He found the bottle of pain medicine and took out two pills. Just as he was about to walk back to Natasha, his eyes focused on all the blood all over the bathroom floor. He was angry all over again. He was angry this happened to her, angry he wasn't able to protect her. He just helpless. He took a breath and walked back to her, handing her the pills, then the water, after he removed the cap. She took the pills while Steve grabbed her bloody clothes from the floor and tossed them towards her closet, where they couldn't be seen by either of them.

Natasha moved to settle herself on her bed. "Will you hold me, please?"

He settled down behind her, spooning her after she seemed more comfortable. It was a bit awkward, but she grabbed his hand after it settles over her waist. He rested his head on his other hand and elbow and looked down at the woman he loved with all his heart. His eyes scanned over he cuts and bruises. He felt the anger rise up again and he took another deep breath.

Natasha head this and glanced back at him. "Please stop blaming yourself. This is my fault. You did nothing wrong, Steve."

"I'm sorry. I just hate seeing you like this. I shouldn't have let you walk away from me. I know it was a mistake, but I let you go."

"No. I walked away from you. I was the coward. I…"

He could tell she was getting upset again. "Nat, enough. We can talk about this tomorrow. Rest now, love." He whispered this, trying to smile, but she saw right through it.

"Steve?"

"Shh… Rest Nat."

She just sighed and shut her eyes, not really wanting to sleep but the pills, plus just the events of the last couple of hours wins, and she fell asleep in his arms.
Now that she was finally asleep, Steve studied her, looked at every mark on her beautiful skin, hating what he was seeing. He looked at her hand, and it took a second for him to figure out what he was looking at.
The Vault was stamped on her hand in big block letters. It reminded him of the stamp he got when he went to that club in the city last year with Sam. And then it hit him…that was where she went tonight. He knew there was a club called The Vault near her apartment. That was where she went to forget him, run from him, and someone there hurt her. All the questions he never asked her about how she got away, or what she did with the body, came rushing back to him. He looks back down at her sleeping next to him. He remembered what she said about the pills knocking her out for hours, and then he couldn't stop himself. He had a mission now, something to do with all the anger he felt towards whoever hurt her.

Getting up slowly he whispered, "Be right back, Nat. I love you."

Slowly he grabbed his things and headed for the door, locking it behind him. He knew what he had to do.

To be continued…