She felt her shoes losing their grip against the muddy ground. Another downpour fell on the village, as she dodged the welcoming needles. By now, she was getting used to the unpredictable weather. The humidity was slowly rising, as her poncho clung to her body. She stuffed another box of supplies in the back of the bus, while the villagers looked on from the safety of their own homes. In the distance, she heard the crack of several large trees tearing down the hillside.

"Better hustle," the translator ran pass by her with his load. "There might be a mudslide somewhere. Let's hope it's not on the main road," his European accent was thick.

Natasha kept her mouth shut and darted back into the temporary clinic to grab the last of their payload. She had marked a box in bold words, and decided to break open it. Inside, orange vials of medicines were still dry. She placed a couple of them out on the table.

"What are you doing? You should be on that bus!" A local volunteer saw her wasting precious time.

"I'm going to leave a couple of these here," she quickly packed up the box again. "You never know when the next crew will come."

"Fine, then," the older woman replied. "But you need to get out now." She shooed Nat out of the clinic, as she watched their temporary visitors board the bus. "Thank you again."

The teenager tucked the small box underneath her poncho and dodged the torrent as best she could. Her feet sunk into the soft earth, as she fought her way through the muddy mess. It seemed like she began her trip with rain and she was going to end it in a similar fashion.

She saw her parents were in the middle of the cabin, and she took an empty seat, two rows away from the back. She placed the small box off to the side and looked at it with empty eyes for a brief moment, as she listened to the rain battering the windows.

The tiny village vanished underneath the mixture of mangroves and deciduous trees. She could barely make out the small children running after the bus, but soon a wave of green took over with jagged and broad leaves she was unfamiliar with. Every so often, the bus lurched over hidden potholes, as it made its way down the mountainous terrain that sent the passengers hitting the sides of their seats or windows.

The rain started to intensify, as she could hear the pings against the metallic roof. Slowly, the sounds lulled her to sleep as her body ignored the bumpy ride.

The pair sat in silence across from one another, as they occupied one of the smaller tables hidden in the corner. From their vantage point, they could see several students make their way to the counter to order their drug of choice to keep them awake while cramming for exams. The smell of cinnamon entranced her thoughts temporarily, as her hands were wrapped around her cup, soaking in the warmth.

She was still angry at him. The images seared into her memory, as violets and blues marred his upper back. She couldn't let it go. Occasionally, she stole glances at him, while he remained somewhere deep in his thoughts as well. His gray eyes were dull, as he stared out into nothingness. His cup of black coffee was untouched, as wisps of the steam rose upward. Neither of them wanted to go where the conversation was heading.

In the coffee house, they sat there quietly for the next hour and just listened to the ambience of random chatter and music. She shifted in her seat and leaned in closer, trying to find the right words, but none came to her. Nothing made any sense. She took another sip of the warm liquid, and tasted a bit of spice lingering in the back of her throat. Her eyes never left his, as he looked about the room just to distract himself.

"What are you going to do about it?" She finally broke the silence between them, as she played with her empty cup between her hands, taking in the last bit of warmth from it.

"I don't know," his shoulders rested against the chair. Every so often, he could feel pains coming from his left side especially as his shoulder protested any movement.

"You need to have a plan."

"Easier said than done," he mumbled, as he averted his gaze away from her piercing chartreuse eyes. Flashbacks from yesterday still haunted him, as he remembered forcing her against the lockers. He couldn't remember if he had pushed her or not during their argument, but he could faintly see the outlines marring both her upper arms. A tight knot grew in the pit of his stomach, while he replayed the scene over and over in his mind.

She noticed a change in his demeanor and noticed that he was staring at her own bruises, "Don't go there Clint." Her eyes flickered with worry for her friend, "They'll go away." Her hands reached out for his, as he continued to fight his emotions. "Like I said before…"

"I know what you said," he growled.

"Clint," she continued to hold his hands, "Text me then, alright?"

He squeezed her hands in response, as he was still petrified from his actions.

No more words were said, and the pair rose from their chairs. Outside, everything was quiet as they walked hand in hand.

"About yesterday…I'm sorry." The words lingered on his tongue, as he tasted the bitterness from them.

She whispered back, "Don't be," she leaned upwards to kiss him on his cheek, giving him some absolution.

The pair walked silently in the early evening, as the sun dipped further into the horizon line. She could feel his hand in the palm of her own, rubbing ever so gently against her skin. At times, she couldn't concentrate while walking. She looked back up at him, and wondered if he knew what he was doing. He was starting to become himself again. She could've sworn a small smirk appeared at the corner of his lips.

They finally made it to the empty park and walked over to the gazebo. Its white posts were decorated with a string of gold lights that snaked its way all around. She could feel her breath getting caught in the back of her throat as she followed him. He took her closer in his arms and stared through her green eyes.

"Clint," she whispered as she felt a finger pressed against her lips.

He closed the distance between their lips, but before he could kiss her, they were interrupted by the sound of horn honking at them.

"Hey you two, I've been looking all over for the both of you," Rogers shouted from his car as he pulled into the empty street. "They won their match!"

Clint silently acknowledged the statement and waved him off. He chuckled to himself, "He has impeccable timing."

Natasha laughed it off as well, and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing his head closer to hers. "Where were we again?"

"Wake up, Natasha!" Her mom scrambled to her side, as she felt another hand come across her cheek.

"Wha-?" Her eyes focused in and out, as she saw her mom clamoring over her. Voices were muffled as she felt coldness around her. The sound of water lapping against the bottom of the seats wasn't reassuring as she slowly regained her surroundings.

"You bumped your head," her mom fawned over her. "We need to get out now."

"Where's Dad?" she rubbed her cheek.

"He's already outside, helping others." She continued to pull her daughter up onto her feet.

"What happened?" she felt the water slowly began to rise against her thighs.

"Another bus stalled and there was a chain reaction from then on. We're all stuck, but then it came out of nowhere."

She trudged through the rising water and made it out of the bus that could've been her tomb. The muddy waters were racing around the stranded buses. She felt a hand reached outwards her, and saw her dad pulling her aside. He quickly flashed a light into her eyes.

"I'm fine," as she swatted his hands away, as she felt a wave of nausea wash over her.

"We need to get to higher ground," as he pointed up the steep hill. "Let's go," as she felt being pulled again, while her head felt it was spinning again.

The group slowly ascended the slippery terrain. The sounds of metal grinding against each other intensified, as they made their trek upwards. In sheer awe, they saw Mother Nature force her way through, as she sent several vehicles down the embankment.

Several members pulled out their transmitters, hoping someone would pick up their signal, as they heard the raging waters down below rapidly rising.

Her senses waned in and out, as she listened to the lulling sounds below. For a brief moment, she watched her father examine another person, as she felt another wave of nausea come about. Slowly, her eyesight faded and she fell back into her dreams.

"Sir, I believe there is breaking news coming from Sao Paulo," the AI came to life, as they were approaching the landing strip.

"Turn on the TV," Stark swung around, as the screen appeared before the group.

A female reporter spoke in English, "This is breaking news. Sources have confirmed that several medical teams are missing in the highlands. Most notable members include Dr. Romanoff and his family. They were anticipated to return to the main city earlier this afternoon. Search teams via helicopters have been deployed. We will update you with further news as the day progresses."

The group fell silent as JARVIS closed the screen. None of them were anticipating this type of news.

Thor quickly broke the silence, as he remembered about the transmitter on her computer. "Can't you trace her, Stark?"

"I can't…she doesn't have the computer on." His mind was already working on several possible ideas to help bring her home.

"There's got to be another way," Steve looked out from his window, and saw the towering clouds covering the city. "Can you remotely turn on that computer?"

"Nope," his face was sullen. The genius leaned back in his chair, not expecting this sudden turn of events. "Even if it's on and if there's any damage to the unit, there is no point."

Clint bowed his head down between his knees, wondering what the hell he could do. His worst fear was becoming reality, as he remembered that sickened feeling a long time ago when he spoke with her on that early morning about how she lost a patient. It was a feeling he couldn't shake for the rest of the day, and he had hoped it would never see the light of day until now.

He then did the unthinkable, something he hadn't done since his parents' deaths. At that time, he didn't know what to think. He was simply angry that someone could take both of his parents' lives away and ruin both his and Barney's lives. But in the cruelness, he somehow found solace in the form of Natasha. Maybe there was a plan…a hidden agenda. He silently said a small prayer. He hoped he could make a deal of some sort to bring her back. Please let her live. He whispered several more words, not caring for any consequences that may later manifest. He wanted her there…alive and safe.

The wheels touched down on the pavement with a shriek at first. Soon the jet taxied across several runways before stopping at a private terminal. The boys didn't want to leave the comfort of the cabin, as they worried for their missing friend.

"We can't do anything else here," Bruce tapped Tony on the shoulder, as he still was stunned. "We need to wait in the hotel room."

Clint rushed past the two, budding scientists with his belongings.

"Where do you think you're going?" Steve looked up at him.

"I'm going to the main hospital and wait for her there." He tightened his hold on his belongings, as he scowled, "And I don't care what y'all think" with a hint of his country drawl breaking through.

He rushed through the crowds trying to make his way to his final destination. The streets overflowed with tourists and locals at a local market square. His heart was set only on one thing as he ignored the sights and sounds.

His pace quickened as he was using the navigational system on his phone. Little by little he was getting closer and finally after walking for so long in the rain, he found the building. He hadn't heard anything different once he reached the main doors. News crews gathered like buzzards, while they waited for any scraps of news that filtered through.

He walked through the glass entrance and saw a reception desk. He was unsure if the elderly gentleman spoke a trace of English, but he tried anyway. "Are the Romanoffs here?"

The man cleared his throat, "No, I'm sorry. They haven't been found yet."

"Do you know where they would be staying?"

"I can't give you that information." The man returned to his duties at the desk.

"Damn it…then who can?" His steel gray eyes narrowed in frustration, as he was hitting another brick wall.

"Security," the man's voice raised in pitch.

Clint watched as two guards came around the corner and he slowly backed away. He slipped back out into the crowd and waited in the soft mist that began to fall again.

A buzz came from his phone. I thought you might want this. His eyes scanned the short message and Stark was already one step ahead of him. You owe me one. A small grin played at the corner of his lips.

By nightfall, he came across the simple apartment complex and made his way up to the fourth floor. Several occupants walked about, as he looked for the room number. He turned around a corner and followed the beige carpet down to the very end.

He pulled out his keychain and found the lock pick that he carried with him all the time. Not only did he learn archery from Buck, but he also acquired another set of skills. He jammed the metal strip and made a few flicks with his wrist until the lock gave a way with a click.

Inside, his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could faintly see the outline of couch and table. His hands searched against the walls for a light switch and soon after, the room was bathed in the incandescent lighting. He dropped his backpack by the door, as he entered. Layers of dust clung to the surfaces as he surveyed the living and dining rooms. The air was laden with a heavy scent of a musty odor, as mold sought refuge in the dark recesses of the unit.

He walked past the master bedroom and eventually stumbled upon Nat's room. He didn't dare to enter, but from the hallway's lights he could see that she had kept the rose he had given her along with a duplicate photograph of them on that autumn afternoon. The two items rested on her nightstand. He thought she would've left them stateside, but there were things he still didn't understand about her.

Quietly, he shut the door and walked back to the living room, where he found another door that lead to the patio. He pulled it aside, as a gush of air ran by him. The city below was bathed in a continuous soft mist with rain clouds that drifted across from the Atlantic. His gaze honed in on the Serra de Cantareira with its rolling highlands to the north of the city. At that moment, he wondered where she was hiding beneath the canopy. His hands clutched at the railing, as he leaned over, waiting for any sirens to pierce the night. He ignored the cold liquid as it filtered through his clothing and down onto his skin.

A/N: Thank you for reading and for the reviews. Thank you to those who have added this story to your favorites or story alerts. Yes, you are probably screaming at your computers right about now. Leave a review, and I love to hear from you. Until next time…

Estele – I'm still working on that point actually. Though the ominous conversation with Howard Stark and Fury may provide clues from the last chapter.