Back in the lower bowels of the Helicarrier a lone captive lay shackled and wounded in the dim interior of his cell. Stephen curled in on himself, passing in and out of darkness for how long he knew not. Time was a bitter agony that wasted away at his torn frame. He breathed shallowly, the open gash in his chest giving a sharp pang every time he so much as inhaled or exhaled. The pain was a reminder that he was alive, at least, but small respite that was when being locked in a cage.

Nothing was done to treat his wounds, save for a scratchy cloth bandage that had been loosely wrapped over the area. It scraped harshly against the deep aching cut, the rough material causing a burning sensation to permeate the area whenever he shifted his position even slightly. His body racked with shivers from the loss of blood and poor oxygen intake. No matter how close he held himself he couldn't seem to find any warmth. Beads of perspiration formed on his brow as images passed through his mind, going so fast that they were a mere blur to his tired psyche. He kept seeing Hill as she stood before him, the hardened look on her face twisting into a grimace of hate as she pulled the trigger on him. Stephen swallowed thickly, his throat going dry when he recalled Banner and the promise he'd made to him.

"I'm sorry my friend," he whispered brokenly, his voice cracking slightly. "I don't think I'm going to make it this time…" his quiet words turned into a fit of coughing. He could taste the blood in the back of his throat, could feel the damage done to his body with every agonizing intake of breath he took. His hands strained uselessly at the bonds that held them in place behind his back. This awkward position pulled his shoulders back and made his chest arch outwards somewhat, which stretched taut the still trickling wound in his chest. It was unable to heal and close over from this constant pressure. When his coughing subsided a tearing pain ripped through his chest and torso. For a moment he lost his breath and blacked out from the shock. The bullet was still in his chest. Who knew how close to his heart it lay?

How much time did he have left? Any?

Stephen knew he was dying. And what a slow, senseless death it was too. He never thought it'd end this way, being locked in a cage with no light to see by and slowly bleeding out. There was no one he could say goodbye to. No one he could tell what needed to be told, at the very last. Stephen's breath hitched in agitation over the urgency of the situation. If he died… there would be no one to protect his son.

And wouldn't his enemies rejoice to see him like this, the grand Sorcerer Supreme reduced to such a wretched state. How disappointed they should be that they weren't the ones to deal the killing blow. What a bitter irony his life had turned out to be.

Stephen shook the delirium from his mind, his eyelids fluttering weakly as he tried to sit up, but then collapsed almost immediately back onto the cot. His teeth bared from the pain spiking over his heart. He roughly jerked at his restraints again, desperate to be free of them if only to rub over the yawning ache in his chest. It was no use though. The shackles stayed strong and in the end all he accomplished was in scraping up his wrists.

His thoughts drifted in a haze. What about Banner? If only he could have convinced him to stay… if Stephen had done better by his friend then they'd never have been in this situation in the first place. Thinking of Bruce and the tortures he was surely enduring, Stephen felt fresh guilt wash over him. It was his fault, of course, that they were in such dire straits.

The pain numbed him to all other sensations. Darkness was closing in on him. His eyes closed, and he took a shuddering breath in effort to keep himself awake. He sincerely hoped Bruce would make it out okay. And that he would forgive him for all the broken promises…

Bruce shifted anxiously in his chair, rubbing over his cheek with the palm of his hand. His gaze stayed curiously on the red-haired pilot. He inhaled a silent breath before opening his mouth, "So what's your plan Natasha?"

The agent glanced to either side of her as she angled the jet downwards. "Well, we'll be landing in about half an hour. If we can sneak you past the guards then we just make our way to the containment cells. If Strange is still there then we bust him out and…" she swallowed, her grip convulsing slightly on the wheel as she eased the craft into a gentle dive. "We work from there," she muttered.

The doctor's body leaned forward slightly with the momentum of her gradual descent, relying completely on her judgment and piloting abilities to get them there in one piece. A small and subtle grin spread over his features. If she could break into Ross's property and break him out then most likely she wouldn't have any issues sneaking into SHIELD and getting him inside.

The Helicarrier was within sight now, the reflective lights clearly illuminating her path onto the landing strip. The radio squawked, a person at the other end demanding her clearance level and intentions. Romanoff took a deep breath and gave a simple but curt reply, giving her passenger a sharp glance and a gesture for him to remain low and keep quiet. A moment later and she was given clearance to land. The jet shuddered slightly as it hit an air current, then the wheels touched down and the craft rolled smoothly onto the deck. After shutting off the controls Natasha turned to face her friend, feeling her heart in her throat as she asked, "Ready?"

Banner returned her focus almost empathetically. He knew this was hard for her, out of character, and uncomfortable. The dark-haired physicist nodded slowly, leaning some of his weight against the wall of the jet for stability. "I'm ready when you are." He inhaled sharply when she made a move to leave, soft with his tone as he said, "Be careful Miss Romanoff."

The agent scoffed, rolling her eyes as she popped open the door of the jet. "Speak for yourself."

She stepped out, casting a sharp glare around the vicinity before urging Bruce out alongside her. The deck was quiet and completely empty, the bright floodlights lining the overhead walks the only source of illumination in the growing dark. Her stomach twisted nervously. Something about this just didn't seem right… shaking her head Natasha ignored her gut instincts and turned back to Bruce.

"Okay, first off we're going to get you some clothes and some antiseptic on those cuts, then I'll take you down to the containment cells. Got it? No questions, no arguments, do what I say or we might as well turn around now." She crossed her arms over her chest, looking away in veiled nervousness.

Bruce shook his head over her stubborn nature. Maybe Natasha was making a good point, he couldn't be very helpful to Stephen if he was a disaster himself. Banner bit at his cheek, his brows creasing downward some. "Okay, and do you plan on pulling these things out of thin air Miss Romanoff?"

"Shut it," she said with a smirk before turning away and skirting towards one of the entrances leading to the topmost level of the ship. Natasha moved at a quick pace, glancing over her shoulder every now and then to gauge Banner's distance from her and if he was falling behind. For the most part he seemed to keep up alright, which was a good thing because the unsettling quiet that hung over the top floor was very agitating to the agent. These weren't normal conditions for the Helicarrier, and she couldn't help wondering what might be going on.

"Hurry, put these on," she said, shoving the clothes into Banner's hands as she leaned her head out the doorway to check for any approaching guards. Shaking her head she reentered, folding her arms across her chest. "Something's not right…" she muttered.

Bruce pursed his lips, analyzing her movements while he lingered behind in the room. He briefly looked over his shoulder before returning his attention to the red-haired assassin, mumbling sarcastically while he played with his hands. "Can I talk now or am I supposed to wait for your permission?"

Nodding distractedly she replied, "Sure. No one seems to be around on the upper floors, so I guess it's safe for now. But I'd really like to check the security to see what's going on. I don't like going in unprepared."

Bruce nodded, removing the tattered attire and slipping into the clothes given him. Bruce furrowed a brow, his mouth contorting in worry over her nervous behavior. "Which way's security?"

Romanoff ground her teeth over one another as she started pacing. "It's not too far from here. Next to the command bay I believe. Come on, you want to get your friend out of here or what?" she asked sharply, beginning to rush again.