JESSICA TAKEN HOSTAGE BY THE KGB

It had been just over a month before the Avengers felt Jessica could leave the Tower unattended. Even then, it was only during the 11am-3pm window they'd let her roam free. ('Free' being closely monitored by the GPS in her phone, of course). Buzz about Natasha and Jessica had finally begun to die down in the tabloids. Things looked like they might've been going back to normal.

Oddly enough, 'normal' was not how Jessica felt when a set of hands reached around the outside of a bakery and dragged her into the alleyway. She screamed into a big, sweaty palm, but the grinding of New York City would've drowned her out even if her voice was unobstructed. Within seconds she had been tossed into the back of a van and shut off from the rest of the world, hurtling away.

Jessica caught a short glimpse of several grisly older men circling her in the back of the van, but they had knocked her out before she could make a move. Smash the windows. Kick open the doors. Not a chance. The last thing she was conscious of was a phrase. Something in Russian.

"Svyazhite yeye."

At the first syllable of JARVIS's voice, Natasha knew something was wrong. Training with Steve in the boxing ring, she pulled back and stopped everything.

"Miss Romanoff, it appears Jessica's tracker has gone offline."

Breath steady even though her heart was racing, Natasha demanded, "Where did you lose it?"

"Outside Harold's Bakery."

Natasha had already slipped under the ropes. "Get surveillance in the skies. Ten mile radius. Now."

Steve was close behind her, following Natasha to the elevator. Either smart enough to know that the Stark tech in Jessica's phone wouldn't have randomly malfunctioned, or too close to Jessica to take any risks, he got straight to action.

"JARVIS. How long since you lost the signal?"

"One hundred and thirty-six seconds and counting, sir."

He looked at Natasha. "She can't have gotten far in that time. The roads are packed."

"Don't make assumptions, Rodgers," she ground out her response, "you'll cloud my judgement."

Steve's jaw set. "Somehow I don't think I've got anything to do with your clouded judgement."

Finally letting her composure snap, even if only for a second, Natasha spun around on Steve. "Are you really telling me you don't have a gut-wrenching urge to find her right now? Make sure she's safe?"

"You know I do."

"Then stay out of my way."

Steve was smart enough not to push that conversation, not that he would have had a chance: the elevator doors slid open and Natasha tore out. She snagged a couple of the weapons stashed away in the foyer — some handguns under marble counters — and secured them in her grasp. She made for the main doorway.

Tony, having received the same report from JARVIS but not quite as fast as the super spy and soldier, got to the foyer just as Natasha had left. He blocked Steve from following her, his brow crinkled and eyes sharp.

"What do you know?"

"No more than you," Steve told him. "Nat's already on it."

"Yeah, well." Tony made for the door. "So am I." In the several seconds it took for him to get to the entrance, different pieces of his suit seemed to materialize out of nowhere and attach themselves to his form. By the time he was outside, he was completely armoured up, ready for anything.

Steve didn't waste any time before taking off in the same direction. Black Widow, Iron Man, and Captain America made three. Wherever Jessica was, wherever she'd been taken, the team would not rest until she was home.

The trio gathered in the spot Jessica's GPS had gone offline. The super spy and soldier tracked the scuffs on the pavement into the alley around back. Tony sniffed the air. His face wrinkled up.

"Gas. Fresh. Someone drove her out of here."

Natasha had to hold herself back from punching a hole in the wall. She crouched down, trying to get a better look at the tire tracks. She traced them with one of her fingertips. Meanwhile, Steve paced the width of the alleyway, running his hands through his hair over and over again, hissing curses under his breath. And Tony was doing what he did best; fiddling with a piece of technology, and getting snappy with JARVIS.

"Give me something, J. Anything."

"I'm sorry, sir, she's gone completely offline."

"Well then get her back online! You're the most sophisticated software on the planet — find my daughter."

"I'm doing my best, Mr Stark, but I'm afraid there is very little to go on."

Before Tony could go off, Natasha stood up. "Toyota HiAce. Headed south. Wasn't going faster than fifty miles an hour, but I'm willing to bet they're taking all back lanes. Could be anywhere by now."

"Those tracks?" Steve pointed where Nat had been crouching.

Natasha nodded.

Steve had already broken into a jog. "I'll let you know how far I can follow them!"

Holding themselves back from going after him, Nat and Tony forced themselves to act rationally. Tony was first to speak.

"Get back to the Tower. Compile a list of suspects — my enemies, yours, the Avengers'. Suss them out."

"Are you seriously benching me?"

"No, I'm getting you to do your job. Espionage 101. Track down the target."

"And what are you going to do?"

Tony's suit lifted off the ground. He rose a few feet into the air.

"I'm taking to the skies. I'm gonna find her."

But, regardless of their efforts, Jessica was nowhere to be found. Tony gave up trying to find a Toyota HiAce amidst the hundreds of other white vans on New York roads, Steve's trail ran cold, and Natasha's list of enemies never seemed to end. Anyone could've taken her, and they could've taken her anywhere. The longer she'd been gone, the further away she could've been. The Avengers could feel her distance like a deepening chasm in their guts. Panic infiltrated their systems. Every second they could keep it together was a miracle.

"Barton." Natasha marched into the computer lab, where Bruce and Clint were hard at work. "Update."

Clint slipped one of the headphones off his ear and glanced up at her. "No sign of her on any underground U.S stations, but I'm picking something up on another continent. Eastern, I think."

Steve's face dropped. "They've taken her to another continent? That's not possible."

"No, it isn't," Bruce confirmed. "But it is possible to divert the signal. Run it through overseas servers."

"They're trying to throw us off," Clint said. "Keep us from pinning them down to a specific location."

"We don't have the time to be thrown off," Steve said. "They could be doing anything to her. We have to find her. Now."

"No offence, Cap, but stating the obvious isn't gonna help," Clint muttered. "I'm working as fast as I can to latch onto the signal."

"Show me," Nat demanded. She pulled the headphones off of Clint and clasped them over her ears. Clint fiddled with the controls, setting it to the right frequency, and Nat closed her eyes in concentration. Within seconds, she paled. Her eyes widened.

"What?" Bruce said. "What do you hear?"

Natasha swallowed. "Russian."

Bruce's heart sunk. Clint's head dropped. Steve chest swelled. Natasha ground her teeth.

Bruce dared to ask, "KGB?"

Natasha pulled the headphones off and stood up straight. "They want me, dead or alive. Preferably dead."

"So where are you going?" Bruce demanded as she made for the door.

Natasha didn't even turn around.

"To give them what they want."

"Natasha." Steve seized the spy's arm. Before he could get out another word, she had swung out of his grasp and pinned his wrist to his back. She shoved him against the wall. Steve grunted.

Nothing further to discuss, Natasha released him. She stormed out of the door, and no one in that room was brave enough to stop her. Instead, they geared up, and they marched after her. Begrudgingly, Bruce and Clint agreed to hang back at the Tower for tech support. Besides, this was a hostage situation. Someone needed to man base camp in case, if by some miracle, Jessica made it back on her own.

Steve just made it into the quinjet before Natasha had sealed the doors. She took off into the air, Tony in pursuit in his Iron Man armour. Steve leaned forward on Natasha's backrest as she piloted the jet.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

Eyes glued to the controls, Natasha's response was blunt as ever. "There are only so many hideouts the KGB has in a hundred mile radius."

"And you know where they are?"

At that, Natasha finally did look at Steve. She arched an eyebrow as if to say, don't ask stupid questions.

"Super Russian spy Natasha Romanoff knows everything, remember?" Tony's voice came through on the intercom. "Except, apparently, how to protect the one asset that mattered more than anything."

"I'll get her back, Tony," Natasha ground out.

"Doesn't change the fact that it's your fault she's gone in the first place."

Steve's voice was quiet. "Tony. Not now."

"Listen up, Romanoff. You're gonna help me bring my daughter back, and then you're gonna get the hell out of her life, you understand?"

"Tony," Steve said.

"And so help me God, if there's so much as a single scratch on my baby girl I'll —"

"Alright, Stark," Steve snapped, "I think you've made yourself clear."

Natasha closed her eyes for the briefest of brief moments before opening them again and holding her head up high. She sniffed once. "I understand."

Steve's face softened. He reached out to put a hand on Natasha's shoulder, and to his surprise she did not flinch away.

"We're gonna find her," he said. "She's gonna be okay."

"For Romanoff's sake, you'd better hope that's true."

With a bit of extra help from Clint and Bruce back at the Tower, the group tracked Jessica's location to the second hideout on Natasha's list. No formal plan, no stealth, no real tact, the trio barged into an abandoned shoe warehouse on the outskirts of town. Smack bang in the centre of the factory was Jessica Stark. Tied down to a chair, braid half undone, face bruised to hell, dripping in spit, sweat and blood, she hardly registered their approach. It was hard to get a grip on one's surroundings when one could hardly keep their head level.

Five KGB agents jumped to attention, guns blazing, clearly not anticipating an attack so soon. Only one of the agents had the sense to put his gun to Jessica's head, stopping the Avengers in their tracks.

Tony's mask retracted, revealing an uncharacteristically blanched and panicked expression. "Jessica!" Tendons bulged in his neck. "What the hell did you do to her?"

Jessica stirred only enough for the agent to press his gun harder against her head. She groaned.

Natasha spat something out in Russian. Neither Tony nor Steve could follow the conversation that came after — sharp tones and snappy comebacks. As it progressed, Natasha inched closer and closer. She started to raise her hands — a gesture of surrender.

Finally, the man holding the gun to Jessica's head nodded. Natasha turned to Tony and Steve.

"Untie her."

The men didn't need to be asked twice. They leapt for Jessica, pouncing on her restraints. At their over-enthusiasm, the man tightened his grip on the gun to her head. Tony and Steve stopped. They cast Natasha an uncertain look.

Nat swallowed. "Slowly."

Gentler this time, Tony and Steve got back to work. Steve ripped apart the ropes while Tony tried to keep his daughter awake. He cupped her face, wiping away the gooey threads of blood coming out of her mouth. She could hardly see her father there, her eyes rapidly swelling, but she was aware of something happening. She was being rescued.

"Dad," Jessica gurgled.

"I'm here," Tony assured her. He tried to open one of her eyes, examining the damage, but she just groaned again. Tony pulled back. "I'm here, baby. I got you."

"Where's Nat?" Jessica asked.

"She's here too, Jessie," Steve told her. "She found you."

"No," Jessica moaned. "She can't. They're gonna kill her."

"Nobody's killing anybody," Steve said. He finished untying her, and Jessica slumped forward into Tony's waiting arms. He gathered her limp figure to his steel armoured chest, smoothing her hair and rubbing her back. It was only then that the gun disappeared from Jessica's head, which made no sense to either Tony or Steve until they glanced up.

The agent now had Natasha Romanoff in a chokehold, gun to her head. The entire room knew she was more than capable of freeing herself, but she didn't. She watched Tony and Steve help Jessica to her feet and remained still. If this was the sacrifice she had to make for saving Jessica's life, so be it.

Steve took a step forward. "Let her go."

The agent said something else in Russian, more amused and less agitated this time. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment.

She whispered, "That's not part of the deal."

"What?" Steve's entire body coiled, ready to fight. "We're not trading lives here, Romanoff. Not on my watch."

The Russian agent laughed. He said something else, but this time Natasha didn't bother to translate.

"Get Jessica out of here," she said. "Get her safe."

Jessica was conscious enough to shriek, "No! Nat!"

Natasha's eyes welled with tears. "I said get her out of here!"

Jessica was already sobbing. "Nat!"

But Tony was already on the move. Jessica securely in his arms, he took off, rocketing back to the quinjet where he could get his daughter on a stretcher. He'd have to phone Bruce to figure out where to go from there.

Steve wouldn't give up so easy. In the factory, he remained standing across from Natasha and her captor, trying to keep his breaths steady. He met Natasha's eye.

Nat asked, "Is Jess safe?"

Steve nodded. "She's safe. You did good." He surveyed the room, still poised and ready to leap into action. "Think we can get out of here now?"

Natasha paused. "You're sure she's safe?"

"Tony has her. She's safe."

Natasha nodded — or, nodded as much as she could manage whilst in a chokehold. "Good," she said. And she proceeded to smash the back of her skull into her assailant's forehead, making him stumble back and loosen his grip. It was all she needed. She smacked the gun out of his hand and got to work on beating the crap out of him while Steve took out the rest of the agents. By the time he had knocked them all out, Natasha was still pummelling the head agent, though she had undoubtedly already caved in his skull. Steve had to pull her off.

"Nat, that's enough," he said. "Nat."

Finally, still quivering with rage, Natasha let herself get pulled off. She spat on the agent, turned on her heel, and made for the exit. Steve followed after her. Still high on adrenaline, they sprinted for the quinjet to see how Jessica was doing. They found her unconscious on the stretcher where Tony had laid her, attached to a drip that Bruce had instructed Tony on how to set up over the phone.

Natasha collapsed at Jessica's bedside, grasping the other woman's hand and caressing her face.

"Jessica. Jessica." For the first time, ever, Tony watched the super spy break into tears, her head falling against Jessica's shoulder. Natasha kissed Jessica's hand, still grasping it fiercely. "I'm so sorry," she said. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."

With a wet sniffle, Natasha met Tony's eye. "Will she be okay?"

Tony's arms were folded. "That's Banner's call, not mine. You'd better pray it's a good one."

Steve crouched down on Jessica's other side, holding her other hand. He rubbed her fingers, trying to bring some warmth back into them. Finally, his chest deflated, able to relax for the first time all day.

"Bruce will patch her up," he whispered. "We found her. That's what matters." He sighed. "Thank God."

Steve ended up being the one to fly the quinjet home, with Natasha and Tony keeping tabs on Jessica in the rear. It took them less than an hour to make it back to the Tower, where Bruce had already set up the med bay for Jessica's arrival.

"Wheel her in, wheel her in," Bruce said, having instantly assumed full doctor mode. On the count of three, Natasha, Tony, Steve and Clint lifted Jessica from the stretcher to the examining table. She was still only half-conscious, muttering incoherently to herself.

Bruce examined the open wound on Jessica's scalp, and shone a penlight into both of her eyes. "Blunt force trauma," he said. "Likely internal bleeding." He pointed at the IV carrier across the room. "Fill it up and bring it over here. I'll have to do a craniotomy."

Steve was the only person in the room who didn't seem to understand what that meant. He glanced around at the stern, pale faces of Iron Man, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Dr Banner, hoping for an explanation. Finally he asked, "Craniotomy?"

"Doc's gonna drill a hole into her head," Clint explained, dragging over the IV carrier while Natasha found the appropriate fluids to fill it up. "Release some of the pressure."

Steve's stomach dropped. "How serious is it?"

"If all you're gonna do is ask questions, how about you get the hell out of here," Tony snapped. He was still at Jessica's bedside, her hand clasped tightly in his. "You can take Widow with you."

"Tony," Bruce murmured, "I could use an extra set of hands."

"I have extensive medical training," Natasha added. "I know my way around."

"I want her away from my daughter," Tony growled.

"Not now, Tony," Bruce asserted. "I still need her to help Jess."

"She's helped Jess enough as it fucking is!"

Bruce looked up. He made eye contact with Steve. "Cap. Get him out of here."

Thus, with considerable struggle, Steve dragged Tony out of the infirmary, and the two of them resigned themselves to waiting outside. The men paced and fidgeted uncontrollably, unable to get the image of Jess on the operating table out of their minds; bruised and bloodied, barely clinging to the brink of consciousness, tortured for hours on end by the KGB. The pure, raw energy was undeniable, though neither man could determine its motivation: all of the Russian agents were already dead. Jessica was in good hands. She was home. All there was left to do now was wait.

"I'm gonna kill her," Tony muttered. "I'm gonna kill that bitch."

"Tony," Steve warned.

"Don't bullshit me, Rodgers," Tony snapped. "You know this is her fault. Jessica wouldn't be in that room right now, getting the blood drained out of her skull, if it weren't for Romanoff."

"Yeah, and she probably wouldn't be alive and home right now if it weren't for Romanoff either."

"You're taking her side?"

"I'm not taking a side! Can't I just be glad that Jess is safe now?"

"Yeah." Tony nodded. "Safe. And just how much longer do you think she'll be that way, with the world's most wanted spy on her arm?"

"Because she was safe before, under the infamous Tony Stark's shadow?"

Tony's glower was hot enough to melt the super soldier's flesh. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

Steve sighed. "I dunno, Tony. Just…take it a little easier on Natasha. She's as torn up over this as you are. And she was absolutely ready to give up her life back there for Jess. You know she would've done it."

For a second there, Steve thought Tony might be considering what he had said, but then Tony's glower returned, and his arms folded, and Steve realized there was nothing he could say to placate the man right now.

"No one," Tony said. "No one hurts my baby girl. End of story."

Steve looked away. Why did he have a feeling that this was not going to end well?