"Like hell," said Natasha, already disarming the man and sweeping Emmy up as she did.
She slammed the door shut and pushed the button next to it that looked suspiciously like a decorative knot of wood. Instantly all of the windows slammed shut with reinforced metal, thick enough to buy them time but not enough to hold anyone with a sense of determination at bay for long. Luckily, Natasha didn't need long.
"Stark," said Natasha, running back to Tony's room, still holding Emmy. "We've got company."
"Well tell them now's not a good time," grumbled Tony. "They can feel free to reschedule a time to attack with Pepper but right now I'm sick and we're probably outnumbered."
"Tell them yourself," replied Natasha, setting Emmy on the bed before rounding the bed and helping Tony sit up and put on socks. "You have the suit?"
"No," said Tony, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs out as best he could, knowing he needed to be functional now and could go back to being sick later.
"We've got about four more minutes before they break through the defenses," said Natasha, throwing two shoes and a jacket at Tony. "Clint will already know about the attack, triggering the defenses would have sent him a message. He knows where to meet us. Thor will probably be getting his family to safety. We just need to meet up with them. Can you stand?"
Tony nodded and shoved off the bed, swaying slightly before settling by sheer force of will. Natasha nodded, threw on a spare coat of Steve's, and picked Emmy back up before leading the way out of the bedroom and into the bathroom down the hall.
"Seriously?" said Tony, leaning against the door, panting while Natasha forced the tank of the toilet open to reveal a tunnel.
"Get in, Stark," said Natasha, stepping back.
It wasn't much of an entrance and you would have to know it was there to find it, but Tony still didn't look forward to crawling in. He wasn't a fan of enclosed spaces he didn't know. Still, as yet another bang echoed through the house, he scrambled into the tunnel and crawled along. After about thirty feet, the tunnel opened to a much more spacious area where two normal sized people could walk comfortably or one abnormally larger person would walk a bit hunched over.
"This goes on for about two miles," said Natasha.
"I want one of these," said Tony, his breathing short, hand against the wall to steady himself, but forcing himself to move at a decent pace.
"I'll remind you later to build one," said Natasha. "How you doing, Emmy?"
Emmy looked up at Natasha, uncomfortably close to the assassin but not protesting like Natasha had expected. Indeed, when Natasha tried to set her down so she could walk (which would slow progress but probably make Emmy calmer) the girl clutched the jacket Natasha was wearing tightly, unwilling to be moved away.
"Okay, I'll carry you," said Natasha calmly. "Stark, your daughter is letting me carry her."
"Yes well, she likes you," said Tony with a sneeze.
"Also you're right next to me so she can see you."
"She likes you, Tasha. Trust me. She asks about you whenever you're not around."
"That's a lie."
"Is not."
"Is too. She doesn't talk. The only two words she says are Daddy and Papa. She can't ask about me if she doesn't talk."
"She signs," replied Tony. "Plus, she doesn't need words, I understand her just fine. And I know she likes you."
"She tolerates me. Besides, I'm a bit worried about her separation anxiety. She won't actually let me put her down. I tried. She can't go from not letting me touch her to not letting me put her down. It's not natural."
"Sure she can," said Tony. He knew what Natasha was doing and was thankful for it; he needed the distraction of her conversation in order to convince his body to keep moving forward. "I wasn't kidding when I said she likes you. She just doesn't like people touching her without her permission, especially women. She's afraid, that doesn't mean she doesn't want to have that physical contact. Nat, she's been deprived of physical contact for years and when she finally lets herself have it with a new person, she just wants to make up for lost time. Give it a bit and if she doesn't ease off then I'll be worried too."
Natasha looked down at the little bundle in her arms and over to the man stumbling next to her who had become like a brother to her over the years.
"She's like you in a lot more ways than I expected," stated Natasha. "And you're a lot better at this parent thing than you know."
"Am I dying?" asked Tony. "You're being nice to me. I must be dying. Oh no! Tell Steve I love him. This isn't how I wanted to go, I always thought there would be mind blowing sex involved and probably fire and a mad robot AI out to get me, but I suppose this will have to do."
"You're such a drama queen," said Clint, trotting up to the group with a tight grin, eyes betraying his worry.
Emmy reached out her arms to Clint the instant she saw him.
"Hey, princess," said Clint, scooping Emmy into his arms, putting his own stocking cap on her head to ward off the chill of the tunnel. "How're things at the house?"
"Same guys from before, I think," said Natasha, lifting Tony's arm over her shoulder and helping him stumble along the tunnel faster. "Everyone else?"
"At Laura's moms," said Clint. "Thor's going to meet us at the Tower after Bruce gets Laura's moms to stand guard."
"We're going to the Tower?" asked Tony, looking up, eyes glassy with fever. "I thought that was a bad idea, that's why we didn't do it before."
"Yeah well they found the farm, so we've got little choice," said Clint. "The Tower is better equipped for an attack."
"Where's Steve?" asked Natasha softly.
"He wasn't far out of town when we got your call. He is probably waiting with a car at the entrance."
Natasha nodded and they quit talking for a time, moving as fast as the sick billionaire could manage, which was faster than he should have been capable of, but they were also dealing with the man who built himself a new element while dying, a suit of armor and arc reactor out of scraps in a cave, and single handedly took out a terrorist threat with next to no sleep in his system. They had long ago learned to stop underestimating Tony.
When they emerged from the tunnel, they found that Clint was correct, Steve was leaning against the hood of a black car. He hurried over to them and simply picked his husband up and carried him the rest of the way to the car. Natasha got into the drivers seat, Clint took shotgun, and passed Emmy back to Steve once the soldier had settled Tony. They took off.
"Papa," said Emmy contentedly smiling up at Steve.
"Hey, baby girl," said Steve with a huge smile. "I missed you. Did you take good care of Daddy while I was away?"
Emmy nodded before hugging Steve, small arms almost reaching all the way around his neck.
"Missed you, Steve," mumbled Tony, mostly asleep, leaning into Steve's side. "Don't leave."
"I missed you too, sweetheart," said Steve, kissing the top of Tony's sweaty hair.
"Everyone always leaves."
"We won't," said Steve patiently. Tony always got clingy and insecure when he was sick, his fears of being alone coming out to play.
"Someone tried to take her again," said Tony.
"I know."
"Papa," said Emmy, tugging on Steve's shirt to get his attention again.
"Yes darling?"
Emmy began signing about her week, all of the things she had taken apart and made. Steve watched, one arm firmly around his sleeping husbands shoulders, holding him close, the other around Emmy's waist to keep her balanced in the middle on his lap. He knew that she should be buckled in, but in the event of an accident, her small body stood a better chance at surviving the impact in his arms than buckled to a seat, quite simply because she was so tiny.
Eventually, Emmy had enough of signing to Steve and looked at him expectantly.
"What?" asked Steve, not understanding why she had stopped signing.
Emmy gestured to him.
"Your turn," muttered Tony, rolling his head further into Steve's warmth.
"Oh," said Steve with a sheepish grin. "Um, I went on a trip with your Aunt Natasha and Uncle Bruce. We traveled around a bit, trying to find the people who took us from the park. That chase brought me back near town when they came to get you. Now we're here. That's it."
"We're stopping at a SHIELD base in about ten minutes," said Natasha. "They'll have medical for Tony and we can contact the others. Hopefully just spend an hour or two there, then we can fly home."
"Sounds good," said Steve.
When they reached the base, Clint disappeared immediately to contact his wife and kids and make sure they were safe. Natasha helped Steve get Tony to medical before she too went to find out what was happening. Steve stayed in the room with Tony while Emmy sat on his lap, content to look around and point to things for him to explain. That seemed to be her favorite game, to point and wait for someone to tell her what it was. Sometimes Steve thought she was just doing it to see if it was allowed.
"That's an IV," said Steve. "It'll probably end up in Daddy's arm to help him get better. Daddy doesn't like them very much. But I'm sure he's going to be good to show you how easy it is."
"You're the devil," groaned Tony.
"No, I'm Captain America," said Steve with a grin.
"Same thing in most countries."
Before Steve could respond, the doctor entered with a tall, imposing figure and slim, just as lethal figure behind him like mismatched shadows.
"Mr. Stark, I hear you have gotten yourself rather sick" said Dr. Dray, one of the four approved doctors on Tony's very particular list.
"Steve, I'm going to stay here and debrief Tony after he gets the proper medication," said Natasha. "You go with Bucky and get showered, changed, and ready to go."
"You'll be okay?" asked Steve, standing and talking to Tony.
"Go shower," said Tony, waving his hand vaguely. "Nat's got it."
"Love you," said Steve, kissing Tony's warm forehead before following his best friend out.
Down several halls and two left turns later, Steve ended up in Bucky's quarters.
"So this is the girl you told me about?" said Bucky, eying Emmy, who was looking back at him just as curiously.
"Yes, this is Emmy," said Steve.
"She doesn't look like you," stated Bucky, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.
"Yes well, she's adopted, so that would explain it," said Steve. "Emmy, this is Bucky. He's my best friend."
Emmy looked between the two but didn't say a word.
"Quite the chatter box," said Bucky with a smirk.
"Emmy, I have to go shower and change. Will you be okay here with Bucky?"
Emmy studied Bucky for another moment, assessing him, before nodding. Steve kissed the top of her head before setting her down and marching into Bucky's attached bathroom, already knowing where everything was from the many times he had visited.
Bucky and Emmy stared at each other for several long minutes before Emmy marched right up to Bucky. Bucky backed away, or tried to but he was already at the wall; he didn't know how to handle a child and if this one was anything like her fathers, she was going to be a handful.
Emmy pointed at Bucky's metal arm.
"It's an arm kid," said Bucky, a bit defensively. "It's rude to point."
Emmy made grabbing motions with her small hands, clearly wanting to see it. With a sigh, Bucky sat on the ground. Emmy looked at him for a short moment before running her hands down his mechanical arm. She poked at the joints, not the least bit frightened by something that could easily crush her and had killed hundreds.
"Shit, you really are Starks kid," said Bucky softly.
Emmy looked up at him with her wide eyes, clearly surprised he had spoken to her. She backed up rapidly, looking around as if she had just realized she was alone with him. Then she settled when he didn't make a move. She slowly started moving back towards him and was even with the door when it burst open, a young SHIELD agent walking in and almost tripping over Emmy.
"Agent Romanoff wanted me to tell you that they are going to be staying the night to give Mr. Stark a bit more time for the medication to kick in," said the woman.
Emmy ran and hid under Bucky's bed.
"Thank you, Agent Prism," said Bucky gruffly. "And next time knock."
The agent nodded and left.
"Wanna tell me what that was about?" asked Bucky, laying on his stomach, head resting on crossed arms under the bed where he could see Emmy cowering in the corner.
Emmy didn't respond.
"Okay," said Bucky. "I'll uh, just leave you to it I guess."
The assassin sat back on the floor, metal fingers dilbrately placed under the bed in case Emmy wanted to look at them. If there was one thing Bucky understood, it was needing time to regroup after a minor setback. From what Steve had told him, Emmy was brilliant but had a rough past.
Steve emerged from the bathroom, wearing a spare shirt and sweatpants of Bucky's and looked around the room.
"I think your kid's broke," said Bucky.
"Bucky-" began Steve, not liking his best friend commenting on his daughter like that; it's not like any of them had any room to speak.
"I'm pretty sure they're supposed to talk," continued Bucky. "This one doesn't say a word. Also, Agent Prism came in and scared the girl. The brat is hiding under the bed. Now that's you're out of the shower, I'm going to run an errand. Bye."
Before Steve could process the rapid turn of events, Bucky was already out of the room and down the hall, off to find Coulson's office and forge his signature on the pink slip for Agent Prism. After all, no one scared his niece.