Fret not, my friends. The man with the bow will make an appearance soon!


Coulson awoke the nest morning in a cold sweat. As usual, he had had a nightmare, but it wasn't his usual nightmare of getting a massage in Tahiti changing over to his brain getting rewired. It was an old nightmare, usual way back when he was still Natasha's and Clint's mentor. It was of Natasha and Clint getting taken captive, and him getting to them too late.

Realizing that he could prove his dream wrong, Coulson pulled back the covers, and threw his legs over the side of the bed. The clock said that it was almost eight. Coulson carefully walked out of the room, taking extra caution at the sight of May asleep on the couch. As he passed by her, a floor board underneath his foot creaked, and he heard May sigh.

"If you want to leave the room, just walk out. You have a better chance of getting attacked by me if you try to stay quiet," she mumbled, before turning her back to Coulson.

Coulson nodded, then strode swiftly from the room. He lept up the stairs two at a time, before falling back into quiet mode as he neared the lab. He heard voices from within, but didn't want to stop by and talk yet. His fear that he wouldn't find Natasha in her room grew, and he practically ran to her room.

Just outside, Coulson took a deep breath, then carefully turned the knob. It was still dark inside, the light from the dusty widnows just minting the room. Coulson scanned the room quickly, locating Natasha on a cot on the floor in the far right corner.

Coulson let out his breath, leaning against the doorway for support. He ran a shaky hand across his face, trying to calm himself down. Natasha was safe. But what about Clint?

Whole new scary possibilities ran through Coulson's mind, but he tried to suppress them. One problem at a time.

Natasha stirred, and she suddenly sat up, drawing a gun from under her pillow. She took aim at Coulson, and it took her a second before she dropped the weapon, curling into herself, pressing her palms to her eyes. The fist that she had sent into the mirror was wrapped up in a sterile white bandage, but blood was beginning to seep through it. Coulson sighed, and walked into the room, moving towards his fragile agent.

He sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shaking body. She wasn't crying, but whatever she had been dreaming about was enough to unhinge her for a moment. Eventually she looked up.

"Is he going to be alright?"

Coulson didn't need to play 20 questions to know who she was talking about. "I sure hope so," he whispered.

Natasha hugged him back, and they sat that way for a few moments, trying to ease the other's pain.

"You came in here to check on me just like you used to do at base. Did you have the nightmare again?"

Coulson smiled. "Yeah, I did. I haven't dreamed about that in at least a year. I had to make sure at least one of you was alright."

Natasha nodded, and silence fell between them once more. They didn't break apart until Agent May burst in. Once she caught sight of the two, she started backing out of the room, but Natasha shook her head.

"No, May, it's okay. We were just crying about stuff that's out of our control." Natasha gave a weak smile, then hid her gun back under her pillow.

May gave Coulson a quizzical look, but shook it off. "Coulson, FitzSimmons think they might have something, and they're all asking about food."

Coulson smiled, then nodded, dismissing May from the room. "I'll be there in a minute," he told her.

He turned back to Natasha, who was watching him intently.

"Got any food?"

Natasha laughed, then pulled her blonde hair back into a ponytail. "I'll make breakfast as soon as I get dressed. Go take care of FitzSimmons."

Coulson nodded, then walked towards the door. Once halfway there, he turned back to her.

"Natasha?"

"Hm?"

"What's with the dyed hair and contacts?"

Natasha looked up, her crystal eyes focusing in on him.

"I'm supposed to be in hiding, but I obviously didn't hide well enough."

Coulson laughed, then exited the room shaking his head.

In the lab, FitzSimmons, Skye, and May were all starring at a screen, while Fitz was on a rant about something on the screen. Coulson walked in, and they all turned around to look at him. He raised an eye brow.

"What's up?"

Fitz took a deep breath, before going back into his rant.

"Well, sir, due to the availability of the SHIELD com link unit that all SHIELD agents used to tune in to to listen for missions, if Jemma and I could create a beacon for the signal to reach-"

"Then we can focus the signal and communicate safely with Agent Hand," finished Simmons.

They said this all very fast, faster than Coulson could comprehend, so he turned to Skye for the translation.

"Basically, if we create a device to concetrate the signal, we can talk with Hand without worrying about HYDRA overhearing it."

"How?" asked Coulson.

"No SHIELD agent uses this anymore. It's been abandoned, just like every other SHIELD signal," explained Skye.

Coulson nodded his head stiffly, still not wanting to believe that SHIELD no longer existed. Simmons turned to Fitz and began speaking very fast with very large words. Skye examined the screen, where a model for the device was pulled up. May just leaned against the wall, not saying anything.

Natasha walked in, dressed in jeans and a purple t-shirt. She smiled as she took in the team; they reminded her of the Avengers.

"Anyone want food?"

That got everyone's attention.


After a good breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes, courtesy of Natasha, the team got to work. Fitz and Simmons strode about the lab, shutting everyone out as they constructed the device. Skye kept trying to get in touch with Ward, but he didn't respond to any of her calls; Coulson had given her permission to try and get in touch with him periodically. May and Coulson spent most of their time bickering about Director Fury, and the problem at hand. Natasha just tried to stay out of all of it.

She walked about the room, recognizing some terms used by FitzSimmons, breaking up the occasional fight between May and Coulson, but really spent most of her time sitting with Skye, who she realized was a huge Avengers fan.

"So, Tony, what's he like?"

Natasha grinned. "Self centered, a thorn in my side, but great when it comes to taking out aliens."

Skye laughed, regained her composure, then thought up another question. "Rogers? Steve Rogers? Is it true that he and Tony hate each other?"

"Well, sort of. They just don't see eye to eye. Tony is all technology, while Steve still uses a typewriter. They got along alright after New York though."

"How was New York? What was it like?"

"To be honest? Really, really, scary."

Skye's eyes widened. Natasha shrugged.

"That's the truth. Imagine a giant portal in the sky with an everlasting army flying out of it. You just didn't think it would end, and that you'd die killing aliens."

"Wow. Not exactly what I expected to hear."

Natasha smirked. "All right, enough questions. My turn. How's Coulson doing?"

Skye cast her an uneasy look, not knowing how much she knew.

"He's, er, alright. A little shaken, but alright."

"Skye, don't lie to me. I know about the GH325, and how it saved both you, and him."

Skye's eyes grew big again, but she tried to hide her astonishment. "Oh, um, well, we're both really confused. We don't know exactly what to do now that we know that the drug came from an alien."

Natasha looked up, and found Agent May staring straight at them. Natasha grinned at her, and she moved away, towards Simmons.

"I'm pretty sure May was eavesdropping."

Skye glanced up, then rolled her eyes. "I can't believe what she did to us."

"Don't blame her. She was just keeping an eye out for Coulson. Fury always has eyes everywhere, which is funny, because he only has one himself."

Skye and Natasha both burst out laughing, and the whole team looked over at them. They quieted down, but their giggles continued for a while.

The rest of the day went by without anything exciting happening, other than Fitz taking a break and reading online that a new species of monkey had been discovered. When the night had finally rolled around though, the device was nearly functional.

After a few more adjustments, Simmons and Fitz took a step back from the device, which looked like an old radio mixed in with a satellite. The rest of the team gathered around the table, staring at the contraption.

"How does it work?" asked Natasha.

"You just press this button here, then log in the general location of where you want the signal to go. Coulson got in touch with Hand earlier to tell her to tune in to the channel. Once we start it up, we should have a direct link."

As Fitz spoke, Simmons leaned forward, and started up the machine. It whirred and buzzed, flashing its lights, and then it all stopped, except for the steady blinking of a green light. Coulson leaned forward, and spoke into the device.

"Agent Hand? It's Agent Coulson. Do you copy?"

Nothing followed except static.

"Agent Hand? Do you copy?"

Nothing.

Coulson looked up at Fitz's and Simmons's frustrated faces.

"It should work. We calibrated the link to the location that you gave us, along with adjusting for interfering factors. Unless Agent Hand is not tuned in to the line, it should be working," explained Simmons as Fitz checked over their work.

After a few more tries, it became apparent that Agent Hand wasn't able to communicate with them. The team decided to turn in for the night, FitzSimmons still grumbling about their lack of success. They left the device on a table downstairs, where they planned to look over it the next morning.

Once Natasha knew that May was asleep, she snuck in quietly, grabbed the device, then returned to her room. If the device did work, and he was listening, and she prayed he was, then she could get in touch and tell him where she was.

Natasha hit the button and started up the device. "Clint? Can you hear me? It's Natasha. Please. If you're there, respond. Clint? Hello?"

Natasha tried to get it to work for an hour, with no success. She returned it back downstairs, then locked herself in her room, trying to hide her disappointment.


Not too far away from where Natasha and Coulson's team were settling in for the night, a figure with a quiver strapped to his back and a bow in his hand adjusted the frequency on his radio. He still occasionally checked the SHIELD frequency, even though it was useless now. He was therefore surprised when he heard a voice on the line. Chills went down his back as he recognized the voice.

"Clint? Can you hear me? It's Natasha. Please. If you're there, respond. Clint? Hello?"

He grinned, and wanted to respond, but he didn't have the technology to. Instead, he checked his direction, and headed off due west, just as it started to rain.