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Everything was quiet; all she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat and of water dripping off blank, cement walls. A voice, like a ghost sung eerily through these dank halls, making her jump and point her glock at the echoes running across the walls. Fear, like fingers trailing down her ribs ran the length of her spine.

She came to a corner, and flinched as a droplet of muddy water fell onto her nose. She squeezed her eyes shut momentarily. She took a breath, and jumped around the corner. Her arms were ridged and her fingers stiffened into their position on the handle of the gun, but there was no one there. She found the radio playing the creepy music softly and slammed the stop button, the cassette player clinking to a sudden and sharp stop.

"Steve," she said, lowering her gun and talking into her comm, "Steve, they're not here."

"What's—down—there?" she heard, the radio cutting out.

"Oh my god," She breathed, moving some of the empty plastic containers and tubes around on the table.

"Natt—going—on—down there?" Tony said, and her mouth fell open.

"It's a bomb," she whispered, "I repeat: he's made a bomb." She yelled to the men at the other end, beginning to run back to the surface.

"There's a bomb…" she muttered, rolling over in her sleep, "he's got a bomb… it's somewhere, somewhere in the," she swallowed, rolling over again, "it's out in the city…"

Suddenly, the fire blinded her. Its heat seared her skin even though it couldn't really hurt her. She flew through the air, gun flying from her hand. She slammed against the wall,

Bang.

There was a ringing in her ears, a terrible, high-pitched, blood curdling noise. She opened her eyes blearily, and stood. She stumbled, and caught herself. Her feet tripped over themselves, and she found herself kneeling just outside the blast radius. The two bodies laid in the middle of it, one still holding the other with their arm around their neck.

She reached up and touched the back of her head, and her fingers came back glistening with scarlet. "Officer Romanoff," she heard someone call her name, and she turned slowly. "Why didn't you save me?"

She screamed, jumping up in her bed and pulling the pistol off her night table, pointing it frantically around the room. "Natasha?" someone called, banging on the door, "Are you alright?"

Natasha caught her breath, and realized that she was holding the gun and quickly tucked it into the drawer in the nightstand. She padded over to the door and unlocked it, opening it to find her roommates all staring at her worriedly.

"Hi," she said, yawning.

"Are you alright, Natt?" Sharon asked, her eyebrows furrowed and contemplative.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just had a," she held the bridge of her nose, "I just had a nightmare, it's—it's nothing."

"It didn't sound like nothing," Darcy said, walking up from the closet they called her room, rubbing her eyes.

Sharon rolled her eyes, and Natasha spoke again, "Sorry, Darcy, I didn't mean to wake you up, or you Sharon. I'm fine, really, I'll be okay; it's nothing a few sleeping pills can't solve."

She slapped Sharon on the shoulder as she passed, and the doctor rolled her eyes, but decided not to bother with it. Darcy yawned again, and nodded, muttering something about Channing Tatum and then shuffled back off to bed, leaving Sharon standing in the doorway to Natasha's room. She punched the doorframe lightly then turned around and went into her own room dejectedly. "Fifth time this week," she muttered, closing her door softly.

Natasha splashed water onto her face, and then turned off the faucet gently. She leaned on the lip of the sink and closed her eyes, the water dripping softly off her cheeks. She yanked the towel off the hook where it hung, and wiped her face clean of the colorless liquid. She opened the mirror cabinet and pulled out a bottle and unscrewed the cap. She dry swallowed the pills and put the bottle back into its place, closing the cabinet forcefully.

Just as the hinges squeaked shut, she caught something in the corner of her eye. In the reflection of the mirror, a little girl stood behind her. Her hand flew to her mouth so as to not scream. Her breathing, labored and heavy with hidden tears came out from in between her fingers in thin rasps. She turned slowly around, finding no one there. It was just a ghost, just a ghost; she soothed herself, slipping down the sink to fall onto the floor, one hand still gripping the edge of the sink, tears falling softly onto the tiled floor.

What have I done?

"Our guy's been awfully quiet lately," Steve said, putting a folder onto Natasha's desk.

"Where've you been?" Tony said implicatively, and Steve blinked. He clenched his jaw and swallowed, obviously hiding a larger truth when he next spoke.

"Nowhere." He said, then turning back to Natasha, "What'd you think he's doing?"

"He's waiting," She said, her fingers tangled in the red curls at the crown of her head, the dark circles under her eyes more and more evident as the weeks progressed, "for what, I have no idea." She said exasperatedly, slamming her hands down onto the table making Tony jump, "What does he want?" she yelled, everyone in the office stopping to look at her.

"Natt, calm down," Steve said, obviously concerned.

"Goddamn it." She said quietly, rubbing her forehead slowly against her palms, clenching her teeth together angrily.

"Natasha, you need to take a break," Tony said, and both she and Steve turned to glare at her, "no, I mean, just go get some air or something, okay?"

"Fine." She said, standing and snatching up her coat.

"Natasha, wait!" Steve called after her, as she reached the elevators and pressed the button forcefully. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine—"

"—No you're not, you look terrible." He said firmly, "Have you been sleeping well lately?"

"No, Steve, I haven't," she said, annoyed, "and you disappearing like this all the time makes me wonder whether I can count on you here!" she snapped, immediately regretting it.

"Take a walk," Steve said, ignoring her comment, knowing she didn't mean it, "come back when you're ready."

She nodded, but just as the elevator reached their floor, Tony called her name, "Hey, Natt, will you come take a look at this?"

She took a deep breath and Steve smiled reassuringly, "I'll take care of it, go on."

"Okay," She nodded, turning back to the elevator doors as they opened, revealing someone none of them were expecting, "Mayor Pierce," she blinked.

"Detective Romanoff, Detective Rogers," he nodded to each of them in turn, walking off the elevators with his two large and angry bodyguards, "I've come to check on your progress," He paused, noticing her coat in her hands, "is this a bad time?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Natasha said quickly.

"It's just, there hasn't been much development since you last checked in," Steve said, walking quickly along next to the mayor as he walked over to Tony and the murder board.

The mayor's phone rang, and he held a finger up to Natasha, "I'll be back in just a minute, I apologize."

"Oh, no problem." She nodded, putting her coat back on her chair.

"Natt, take a look at this," Tony said, "forensics just got back with their analysis of the arrows, they've found a serial number," he said quietly, and she frowned at him.

"Why wouldn't he just scrape it off," Natasha asked confusedly, "I mean, he's got everything else so well planned out, why not this?"

"Maybe he wanted us to find it?" Steve suggested and Natasha furrowed her eyebrows even further.

"God, why is this case so weird?" Tony said exasperatedly.

"So what have you found?" Mayor Pierce asked, tucking his phone into his coat pocket, and standing over them in an imposing manner.

"Nothing much, we've just gotten…" Tony began, but Natasha stopped listening, the hairs on the back of her neck rising.

"Hey, Natasha," Maria smiled kindly as she walked past, carrying some folders, then stopping, seeing her expression, "Natasha, what is it?"

"Something's wrong;" she said, "it's too quiet."

"What'd you—" Maria frowned, then a woman came running through the office, her strawberry blonde hair in an unusual state of unkemptness.

"Maria, where's the captain?" she asked, out of breath.

"In his office, Pepper, what's wrong?" Maria asked, looking worriedly at the woman.

"A repot came in that there were shots fired in seven places all around the city, and now the force is spread thin," Pepper said gravely, "and then we got an anonymous tip that we were going to be attacked."

"What?" Natasha said, all the men behind her looking up at Pepper's story, just as all the windows in the office shattered.

A/N- Hey guys, sorry about the late update, my finals are almost over! As for Steve's love interest, go vote on my profile, but hurry because polls closes in a couple chapters! And finally, never fear, it'll all make sense eventually.