The door flew open in front of them, and the sudden appearance of all of the Avengers probably startled the two people inside. They were in Asia somewhere, it didn't matter where. Steve pushed past the people and lay his burden on the table, even as she writhed at the movement. He immediately pressed hands to her wound in an attempt to stem the flow of blood.
"Clint, are you sure this is a clinic?" Bruce asked, following behind Steve. He nodded at Steve when the blond pressed hands to Natasha's chest.
"That's what the sign said." Clint was carefully approaching the woman and man who had backed against the wall at Steve's sudden entrance. Tony and Thor had followed Steve, both at a loss with how to help. They had been searching an old store house in the village, following up on a clue they had on HYDRA. It had turned bogus, but the men squatting in the building had been armed, and had managed to get a lucky shot on Natasha. In the chest, no less.
"Ask them if they have anesthetic. And I need scalpels, or knives. And equipment for sutures. Get some antiseptic or even alcohol." Bruce told Clint as he nudged Steve's hand aside to check the damage again. They had been lucky, Bruce said the bullet hadn't done any organ damage, but he couldn't sew the wound closed without getting the bullet out. He motioned for Steve to put pressure on the wound again. Time was crucial in this, they all knew. Clint was speaking to the people in hesitant words.
"Bruce, what can we do?" Tony asked, approaching the table where half of their team was clustered.
"Hold down her legs, Tony. Thor, get her arm on this side. She's moving too much." Bruce said, pining her shoulder to the table with one hand. Natasha groaned and jerked against Steve's hands.
"Steve, press harder. It's going to hurt her, but we can't help that." He barked at Steve, who obliged, even as Natasha cried out at the new pressure. Clint finally returned to the group, bearing a tray.
"They don't have anesthetic, doc. And they ran out of chloroform two days ago. But I've managed to get everything else." The archer said, setting the tray down next to Bruce. Bruce swore at Clint's first words, he didn't want to do this while Natasha was awake. But it looked like he didn't have a choice. Any other method they could use to knock her out was too dangerous at that moment.
"Clint, stand by her head. Do what you can for her." Bruce said, turning to look at the supplies Clint had brought. There were even rubber gloves, and Bruce sighed. Clint was already moving, crouching down to Natasha's level and whispering to her. Bruce looked again at the supplies, noting with approval that there was more than he had asked for. Nearly everything he needed to get the bullet out and sew the wound closed. But nothing strong enough to cut through her uniform. They didn't have the time to peel her out of it.
"Do any of you have something that can get through her uniform?" He asked quickly, wasting no time.
"Boot knife." Natasha ground out between ragged breaths, and Bruce looked at her in alarm. She was more lucid than he expected, and that was going to make this harder.
"I think she means this." Tony said, handing a combat knife to Bruce. He stared at the knife, it would do the job. He slipped the knife between her body and the material and began cutting it away. He worked as fast as he dared, and in short order he could peel back her uniform to give him the space he needed to work. Blood had already soaked her front, the uniform and her bra. He set the knife aside and glanced up at Natasha's face. He hated what he was going to have to do, he could only hope that she would pass out from the pain. He slipped on the rubber gloves and picked up the instruments he needed to get started.
"I'm sorry, Natasha." He said to her, steeling himself for what he was about to do.
"Steve, hold her torso down. She cannot move during this." Bruce instructed the blond, and Steve nodded, placing his hands on her to pin her body to the table. And then Bruce got to work. He tried to work as fast as he could, opening the wound slightly so that he had space to work. The bullet had gone deep, and he watched Natasha as she tried to fight her team pinning her to the table. He started digging for the bullet, doing his best to be quick yet precise. He heard her scream in garbled Russian and he nearly froze. He had never expected he would have to be the one to hurt a member of his team like he was, but he had no choice. He could feel his alter-ego bubbling to the surface, the big guy's anger boiling at Natasha's scream. He quickly pushed against the other guy, he couldn't risk hulking out right then. This would save her life, he needed to do it. He could hear Clint trying to talk to her, to get through to her. She tried to buck against Steve again, but the super-soldier had her pinned in such a way that she couldn't fight it.
The bullet was being difficult, and it took Bruce longer than he liked to get a grasp on it. It didn't help Natasha had continued to scream, and was now choking on sobs. The Hulk continued to bubble just below the surface, even as Bruce tried to explain to his alter-ego that he needed to do this. That she would die without this. He wasn't sure he was getting through to the other guy. His hope that she would pass out wasn't enough, she was awake enough to feel the pain. And that was making it so much harder. He started to work the bullet out through her flesh, and she started screaming again. He heard Clint's voice pick up, trying to soothe her. He finally got the bullet out and dropped the vile thing on the tray. His gloves were covered in her blood, and he wasn't done yet. He picked up the antiseptic and poured some on her wound. Another scream ripped from her throat and she bucked against Steve again, this time actually forcing Steve to move and pin her down harder. Bruce grabbed a cloth and wiped away the blood that was pooling, even after the antiseptic had washed a good amount away.
"The worst is over, Natasha." He said in an attempt to be soothing as he picked up what he needed to sew her wound closed. He spared a glance at her face and his breath hitched. Her face was contorted in a way he'd never seen on her, there were tears and he had caused them. He swallowed, he had to finish this. He started sewing the wound closed, and Natasha moaned quietly in pain. He finished as quickly as he could, pouring more antiseptic and washing away the remaining blood with the cloth.
"It's over." He said quietly, peeling off the rubber gloves and reaching up to push Natasha's hair out of her face. It was the only comforting gesture he could think of. Her eyes were scrunched closed and he pulled his hand away. He pressed fingers to her neck to check her pulse. It wasn't where he wanted it to be, but it wasn't the worst. He didn't like how clammy and cool her skin was, but that was the blood loss, and there was nothing he could do for that right there. Her breathing was ragged, but as regular as he could have hoped for.
"She's lost a lot of blood. If we can get her to medical or a hospital as soon as we can, that would be best." Bruce said tiredly, steadying himself against the table. That had easily been one of the more harrowing experiences he had gone through. But the other guy had finally settled down, quietly grumbling in the back of his mind.
"Can we stop holding her down?" Steve asked quietly, and Bruce snapped his head up to look at their leader. Steve's expression mirrored his own, and he looked around, finding similar expressions on the rest of his teammates. That had shaken all of them, he wasn't alone.
"Yeah." Bruce said softly, hanging his head. Steve pulled his hands away and Bruce watched as Thor unclipped his cape and draped it over Natasha. The doctor ran a hand over his face.
"We should head for the pick-up point." Tony finally interjected. Steve looked at Bruce as if waiting for approval. Bruce hesitated until Clint piped up.
"She's finally passed out." The archer said, standing. That made Bruce's decision for him, he nodded at Steve. They still needed to get her to a hospital, but at least they'd be bringing her in alive, instead of delivering her to a morgue. Clint turned to the people still huddled in the corner and spoke to them while Steve gently picked Natasha up, cape and all and cradled her against his chest. As a team they marched out of the tiny building, just like they had barged in together.