Natasha Romanoff crouched in the snow. Her breath hung in puffs of fog in front of her mouth. Thick white flakes drifted through the air, creating the illusion of peace, of solitude.

An illusion that could be shattered at any moment.

She checked her weapon, ensuring that it was ready for combat. She had one shot. Then her position would be given away and she would be left vulnerable to the enemy. She had to make this count.

She waited in silence, listening for the footsteps of her enemy, waiting to mark their positions, waiting to take her shot. She waited for her teammates to radio in and tell her that they were in position as well. This mission hinged on teamwork—and, though she hated to admit it, on trust. Working together was vital.

And so Natasha had decided to trust her partners, and more importantly, to rely on them. It was hardly in her nature to work with others, but these two had proven trustworthy in the past. They wouldn't betray her.

A click came over the communication device in Natasha's ear. Steve was in position. She breathed slowly, silently, as the seconds ticked away. Any day now, Clint…

After a few more moments of silence, Natasha hissed into her own hidden mic. "Barton, what's your position?"

"Almost there." The words were mixed with static. "Ran into a little trouble—"

A muffled cry came over the radio. Natasha resisted the urge to jump, especially after she realized that she'd been able to hear him off of the comm as well.

"Barton?" Her voice was too loud, volume increased by panic. Any hostiles could have heard her. Get it under control, Nat. "Clint. Are you okay?"

"I'm hit." His voice was ragged, out of breath. "Nat, I—I'm sorry. You'll have to take this one on your own."

"Just stay down, Clint." Natasha forced herself to keep calm. "Steve will come pick you up—"

"No, Tasha—" his voice cracked— "Steve's turned. He's the one who hit me."

A surge of rage filled her. She had trusted Steve. He was supposed to be her teammate, their teammate, and he'd betrayed them. She should have known better than let him come along. They'd been warned that they could encounter Steve's long lost friend, Bucky Barnes, now known as the Winter Soldier. Others saw him as a dangerous criminal; Steve saw him as his best friend. And now, Natasha had no doubt that he was the reason Steve had turned on them.

Snow crunched on the other side of Natasha's hiding place. Her muscles tensed. This was it. Her chances of survival had been slim before, but now with no back-up at all, they might be non-existent. It didn't matter. She'd take the risk. For Clint.

She jumped out from behind the tree. Sensing more than feeling someone target her, she ducked into a roll. The missile went past her head, barely missing. A flash of silver caught her eye, and then another shot whizzed her way. She twisted away, leaping into the air to avoid a shot to her legs, and then she saw her assailant.

It was him. The Winter Soldier.

She had no time to lose. In one fluid motion, she landed on both feet, straightened her back, raised her weapon, and fired.

Natasha had fast reflexes. So did the metal-armed assassin. He simply ducked to one side and the missile, aimed for his heart, sailed harmlessly past.

Well, there went her shot. She needed to regroup, or maybe just find Clint and retreat. She didn't know where Steve had gone, but she didn't really care.

She was about to run when something hit her back. She stumbled forward, dropping to her knees in the snow. A cold, wet feeling spread over her back, soaking into her shirt…

Tony's triumphant cry rang out over the snow. "You're down, Romanoff!"

"You cheated." Natasha got to her feet and pointed an accusatory finger at Bucky. "You convinced Steve to be a double agent, didn't you?"

Bucky grinned sheepishly.

"Doesn't matter," Tony said. "We won. Your team's down."

"Well," Bucky corrected, eyeing Steve as he came into view, "Almost all down…"

Natasha almost called out a warning to him, then decided against it. He'd still betrayed her and nailed Clint with a snowball. He had it coming.

Speaking of Clint, where was the dork?

Bruce walked over to Bucky, an armload of snowballs in his hands and a patch of white powder still on his shoulder. He must have been the 'trouble' Clint had mentioned. Bucky took one snowball from Bruce, then watched as Steve jogged the last few paces between them.

"All of the enemies down?" Steve asked cheerfully, smirking at Natasha.

"All but one," Bucky said, and threw the snowball to splatter right on the star on Steve's chest.

Steve stared down at the snow, then looked up at Bucky, a hurt expression filling his eyes. "Buck… But we're friends!"

"Team Iron Man wins!" Tony shouted and high-fived Bucky.

Bruce dropped his load of snowballs. "Can we go inside now? I'm ready to get some of Wanda and Vision's hot chocolate."

His suggestion was met with approval. Tony slung an arm around each of his teammates. "Winners first. Sorry Steve."

Natasha was a bit disappointed at her team's loss, but the look on Steve's face when Bucky hit him had been worth it.

"You guys go ahead," she said. "I've got to go find Clint." Knowing him, he'd probably stay in the snow until she found his 'body.' "All right, war hero. Where are you?"