Chapter 7: Speak

"We'll meet in a neutral place, somewhere public enough we can't easily be snuck up on with plenty of exits. Natasha already checked out the sight, we can get the upper hand as soon as we need to." Steve explained that night at the table.

His team listened intently, Sam on his left and Wanda on his right. Opposite him, Natasha nodded along with his explanation while Clint cleaned his bow for the umpteenth time and Scott doodled a picture of their safe house for Cassie.

"I don't like it. Stark is too proud to call like this, out of the blue-" Sam murmured. Scott huffed in agreement, considering two shades of blue.

"Have you thought this might be a trap? Could be the higher ups are using their little lap dog to nab us." Clint argued.

"As a former inept criminal… that's a good point." Scott added, finally looking up from his drawing.

"Natasha has looked into the story, everything checks out. Right?" Steve prodded. She nodded.

"So maybe Stark isn't directly in the know but that doesn't mean it isn't a trap."Clint reminded them, wiping down the bowstring.

"I know. Which is why I'm going alone." Steve continued. He expected team outcry, and they did not disappoint.

"Hey man, we're a team and I'm not letting you walk in-"

"Do we think that's safe? I mean I know I'm not cool Avenger badass like you guys but-"

"No, NO WAY that's the stupidest thing-"

He held up a hand, trying to quell their rising anxiety.

"I've already decided. This is a preliminary meeting and we need to see exactly what the other side's intentions are. Once we know that, we'll have another meeting. If it is a trap, then they've only got the one of us." Steve explained firmly. Sam frowned, hand running over his mouth in obvious frustration.

"You want us to just sit here on our asses and wait for them to let you out of there? No back up, no nothin?" He muttered, his dark look in Steve's direction interrupted by Wanda's voice suddenly clear as day and being added to the mix.

"Let Natasha go."

Steve was relieved to find he wasn't the only one whose head whipped around. She had her knees under her chin, holding her pieces together and eyes more alert than they had been in days.

"Hey kiddo, how you feeling? You want something to eat? One of you guys, Scott get her something to eat-" Clint was all soft voices, gentle movements and his hands were on hers, rubbing warmth back into the small limbs. But she would not be coddled, her hands were tugged away and left gripping the edges of her sweatshirt.

"Let Natasha go." She repeated. "She is aware of the layout, she knows both sides the best. If you will take none of us to fight alongside you, then take her. Please Captain." Her eyes met his, voice hoarse from disuse but gaze steady. The others around the table looked to their leader, no one daring to break the silence, not yet.

His eyes flickered over to Romanoff, who raised a brow but waited alongside the others. It was his choice, and she would respect the decision, whichever he made. After a moment, he returned his attention back to Wanda.

"I would never ask this of any of you if I didn't' think this was important. You deserve the time to heal Wanda." He murmured. She smiled wanly in return.

"You have given me more than enough time Captain." He shook his head, even while her companions tried to jump in but her voice was louder than all of their clamoring for how soft it was.

"I do not wish to lie in oblivion for the rest of my life. It will take more time than what I have had.. But at least grant me this request, while I still have the courage to ask it of you. If you will not take the others, and I am not strong enough yet to stand by your side, then bring Natasha. Please." Her hands were trembling from effort and Scott was already whipping up something or another to fill her belly. But she would not look away until he nodded, let her body sag back into the chair when he looked to the others.

"Alright. Natasha?" The former spy shrugged at him.

"Just tell me what time we're leaving."

They rose with the dawn the next morning and little was said as they traveled to the prearranged meeting place. Mostly, each party was lost in their own thoughts. It was only as the meeting hour drew nearer that conversation began to flow.

"I've got my vantage point set. You remember our signal?" She asked, pushing up his sleeve and checking the wire along his wrist. He nodded, submitting himself to her poking and prodding.

"Tip my water glass at the first sign of trouble." He tilted his head, letting her tug his t-shirt down briefly to see that the wire was firmly attached, sighing when she took him by the shoulder to turn his body. "Romanoff we've gone over this four times already. Stark and I are going to talk and then you and I meet up to compare notes." He peered down at the small woman, surprised to find something like concern staring back up at him.

"And now we're going over it five times. I've already made at least two agents so make sure you know your way in and out. If our first meeting site is compromised-" Her hands were quick, efficient. And just as quickly brushed away by his own.

"Go to the second. I know Natasha." He stilled her hands, ducking his head down to hers when a pedestrian passed a little too close. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close and whispering little more than a breath away.

"Stick to the plan. We'll be fine." He muttered, cheeks reddening. She smirked.

"Was this part of your plan, getting me a little closer to that dollar tour?" She asked. When he shifted and pulled back, she smiled outright.

"Game face Captain."

With that final encouragement, she slipped away into the crowd and he set his shoulders. It was time.