Gunfire. That's all Natasha could hear. The smell of gunpowder and burnt wood filled her nostrils. The heat from the nearby burning buildings was making her sweat through her jumpsuit, and her short read hair clung to her head, its curls flattening from the moisture. They were outnumbered. She hadn't seen Barton in over half an hour. Agent Hill was yelling orders from somewhere to the right of her, but too far away for her to see. This was a trap. And it was meant for SHIELD.
Natasha had two options: either wait to get captured, or make a run for it. She could run to Agent Hill and have a chance of escape, which seemed like a better plan than 5 months of torture and a definite chance of death later. So, deciding quickly, Natasha reloaded her weapon, checked the coast was clear, crouched into a better position and ran.
It must have been the fastest she'd ever run. She slipped on the occasional rock, kicking up a lot of dust and probably attracting more attention than she wanted. Just as she spotted Maria, the gunfire found her again, and she did her best to avoid it. Her best was not enough. Natasha felt a piercing pain in her forehead. She was unconscious before she even hit the floor.
Natasha slowly blinked her heavy eyelids open, feeling groggy and confused. It hurt when she moved her head; or any part of her really. She took a couple of deep breaths before opening her eyes fully. By the look things, she was in some sort of a hospital. But, looking down, she wasn't in a hospital gown, she was in her jumpsuit. It was clean, not a speck on it. She saw a mirror to her left and pulled herself into a seated position, standing on shaky legs and looking at her reflection. Not a bump, not a scratch. There wasn't even a bandage on her head from where she'd been shot.
"Huh..."
She ran licked her dry lips slowly, looking around the room. It looked like an average hospital room, the uncomfortable looking white bed with white sheets, a pale green curtain surrounding it and a heart monitor (an unplugged one, and there were no visible plug sockets. Well, that's pointless, Natasha thought to herself). A door stood in front of her, a few feet away, and naturally she walked over to it. It led to a small room that was completely bare except a small metal cupboard. The walls were stone, as far as she could tell, and so was the floor. She padded into the room, the floor cold against her bare feet, and tried to open the cupboard. As soon as her hand touched the handle, the door to the hospital room disappeared.
"Shit." Natasha half ran back across the room, pressing her hands flat against the wall where the door was less than five seconds ago. She knocked frantically, trying to find a hollow spot, but no. It was pure rock, solid all the way through. "Shit." She repeated, and started to look around for another exit. After ten minutes of just looking for an escape, she gave up and walked back to where the door had been.
The room was very light for one that had no windows or any visible light sources, which was both intriguing and unnerving. She shook herself.
"Focus, Nat. Exits…" She turned towards the cupboard again and hit it with her fist, cutting open two knuckles. Natasha then threw a loose bit of stone at it, just for good measure. The stone disappeared in a crack of blue electricity.
"Typical. Guess we're not going to find out what's in there…" Natasha looked down, catching sight of her, previously bleeding, knuckles. They'd healed over very quickly, and the skin sealed itself before her very eyes. Just as she stared in amazement at her knuckles, there was a sound from the corner of the room. She span on her heel to face the direction of it. A man was leaning against the wall behind her, a smirk plastered on his face.
"Hello again, Agent Romanoff."
Loki.
