They looked out the window - desperate for answers, for solutions to this nightmare. Natasha crossed her arms, suddenly uncomfortable and restrained in her black jacket.

"They're coming for you," Tony said, his warning tone somewhat arrogant. The words traveled down her spine like ice as she resisted the urge to attack. Grinding her teeth to keep composure, Nat turned.

"I'm not the one that needs to watch their back."

Without another word, and with Tony looking back at her as he held on to the metal railings with one hand, Natasha practically stomped out of his sight; the curls of her hair whipping back with grace. She jogged as far away from Stark as she could, arriving at a dead end hallway sporting tall glass windows.

She placed her hands against it - the feeling of cold air just outside brought her closer until her forehead pressed against the glass as well.

"Where are you…" she whispered, closing her eyes slowly, "Where?"

She didn't want to regret her decision - siding with Stark on this registration initiative was the right thing to do. It had to be - otherwise, people would fear them, heroes would take matters into their own hands and that wasn't always the best thing to do. Tony was the prime example of heroes not always making the right decisions to help humanity and Natasha believed Ultron was the guilt force driving Stark's plan.

Steve didn't see it that way because he always believed they were the best capable hands to fix the problems.

Of course, if everyone was as honest, selfless, and brave as Steve Rogers, she would believe that as well.

But she was the first example of why they needed regulation.

However.

The two most important people in her life. Clint Barton. Steve Rogers. They thought otherwise. They believed in the team - believed in each other and themselves. Believed in her.

And yet, she was here. At the Stark Tower with those around her who believed registration would bring things to complete order. Vision comprehended order; it was in his nature. Rhodes lived most of his life in order - it was his life, his status. Stark and T'challa were leaders. They created order. They had the means to maintain it and the air of righteousness to do so. The web-slinger. Parker. He was young and had lost plenty. It was logical to side with them.

Then there was her. So riddled with right and wrong. With wanting to clear her ledger. Her mind knew it was logical. It had to be right.

But still...

There were people on Steve's side who'd lost so much. Last time she'd checked up on them, Natasha had seen those who sided with him. Nothing to gain and everything to lose.

Wanda Maximoff - lost her parents when terrorists attacked her land with Stark Industry weapons; suffered for days staring at the missile before her and Pietro to detonate, lost her brother fighting Ultron. Lost her life when a greater part of Sokovia burst into pieces. Wanda finally found a family with them - with Steve and Wilson...and her. She had no obligations yet she wanted them.

Scott Lang - risked his entire family - his daughter - to do the right thing when a stranger told him to save the world from a megalomaniac obsessed with the coveted Pym Particle. He had no responsibilities towards Hank Pym, no responsibility towards the world. From what she read in his SHIELD interrogation, he'd got subatomic, risked his life. For others. He was doing it again.

Clint Barton - risking his family: Laura, Cooper, Lilia, Nathaniel. He risked never seeing them again, fighting so that people in the trouble he once was in wouldn't be. He'd already given years to SHIELD; the same organization infested with Hydra. He hadn't lost hope. He'd almost died saving civilians in Sokovia; so much to lose and still, he'd chosen to help others because he could.

Sam Wilson - risking his life even though he'd already paid his dues serving his country while in active duty and afterwards as he helped veterans find their senses again, he'd suffered the loss of his friend, endangered his life in D.C. to clear an organization he was not a part of - he wasn't helping because there was a pay involved, because there was glory involved. He believed.

James Barnes - if someone understood what Barnes went through, it was Natasha Romanoff. Being washed for seventy years, he was one of two who'd lost the most in his lifetime. He'd lost the ability to chose and all this nightmare was his fault - because those with power like General Ross wanted to place blame. Barnes didn't have to risk his life yet again - expose himself - to fight next to Rogers. To fight for himself. And here he was risking being turned into a weapon again.

Steve Rogers - the man of the hour. He'd been fighting all his life. Fought against his illnesses, fought against the machine that tore him to pieces to make him a weapon, fought against Hydra in WWII, fought against Red Skull to save the U.S. from nuclear weapon disasters, fought against the Chitauri, fought against Hydra and SHIELD in D.C., fought against Ultron, fought against time when he suffered the loss of Peggy Carter, fought against the loss of everyone he knew - everything he knew - and now he was fighting against half his team. Fighting her.

Natasha's stomach did a somersault.

They all had everything to lose and by the guilt and fear in Tony's eyes - the billionaire would stop at nothing to make sure the world was safe.

She remembered their last conversation, as painful as it was; Natasha was warning Steve because she didn't want to see him hurt - not again.

You can't punch your way out of this one.

The only reason why she'd said that was because Nat knew damn well he could and he would if it was necessary.

That painfully-righteous ass would do anything to protect Barnes, and even more so now that he had other lives under his command. He'd give his life to protect Wilson, Maximoff, Lang, and Barton. And that's what hurt the most.

Without another word or thought, she pulled away from the window; mind set and feet taking her in the direction her heart told her to be at. She needed to contact Wanda first and figure out where they were. Barton wouldn't have traces on him - he was too good. Wilson wouldn't trust her with their locations. Steve and Barnes were ghosts.

Wanda was her best option.

Rushing past the entrance and into the expanse of the hangar, Natasha ran past it all to uncover what she was looking for - the object that brought her to this very place every damn evening like a lost child.

Pulling the gray covers off, she mounted Steve's motorcycle and turned it on - quickly and with precise movements before Rhodes or Vision came to attention. Speeding off, she knew where to go to send the message. All she had to do was get out of Stark's satellite range.

By the time she did, it was dusk. Entering an old SHIELD warehouse, she parked the motorcycle and reached for her phone. Cracking it open, she rearranged the tech, hacked the Stark service chip, and rebooted the encryption systems. Bringing the phone closer to her, she searched for Wanda's signal - something that would trace back to her. An hour later, she found it. Without hesitating a moment longer, Natasha put the line through.

"Romanoff?" Wanda whispered, answering the call in alarm and tension.

"Where is he?"

"Don't put me in this situation."

"I'm his partner."

"You were. When Stark started this war and you sided with him, partnerships were over."

"Wanda, please, I need to know...I need to know he's safe...please," Nat continued. Wanda sighed heavily; and of course it was taking a toll on her - they'd been close, the two of them fighting against the wave of testosterone around them - that seemed like ages ago.

"Nat, I can't risk it."

"I won't hurt him."

"You already are."

The words hurt - even though their truth resonated as an echo she'd heard since she left him to step foot in Stark Tower. Hearing them aloud brought bitterness up her throat.

"Let me fix it," she said, stressing each word. There was silence on the other end for far too long to a point Natasha thought the line had been cut. Then Wanda groaned, nervous and defeated.

"Brooklyn. Hurry before he disappears again. You know where to look."

"Thank you."

"If anything happens, Natasha, if Stark is with you...I'll make sure you regret ever being involved."

"I've got to go."

Ending the conversation, Natasha jumped on the motorcycle once more, speeding towards the city. She knew him and where he'd be - the place where he it started for him. All she had to do now was make sure she wasn't caught.

What she was going to say to him or what she would explain was beyond her - there hadn't been time for that. All Natasha wanted at the moment was to see him safe. See his smart-ass smirk and the glint in his too-blue eyes when the mission was complete; when they completed it together.

Swerving down the alley roads, Natasha parked the bike behind the remodeled building. While SHIELD had abandoned the laboratory, it had taken extra measures to ensure the existence of it was well hidden. The shops that took residence in the floor above were cleared by the organization and staffed by undercover agents. The only ones ever to be allowed underground had been Fury, Coulson, Hill, and Rogers.

It had been empty ever since SHIELD went down - sign up that read "Remodeling". The back door codes however were different. One opened the door to the outlet store - the other code opened to an elevator ready to take you downstairs. And she was about to break in.

Looking down the alleyway, turned off the bike and walked with it until she was close enough. Parking it against the wall gently, she approached the locked backdoor and played with the security system until the anticipated click and whirl of the lock opened the door. Looking around, she saw no one. All Natasha had to do now was find a way downstairs - she didn't have luck with the elevator.

It was dark and musky, but she was a woman on a mission, pressing her hands on anything suspicious, tapping against walls and furniture, tracing along the edges and corners. It wasn't until she found a button at the bottom surface of a corner desk that she felt her heart leap. The floorboard behind the desk sank and slid to the side, giving her access to narrow, metal staircases. Natasha rushed down, her eyes scanning the entire room; the strange machines, the railings, the buttons and odd lights, the glass viewing room above her, and at the center a capsule, closed and gleaming.

To her left, he appeared from the shadows. Natasha turned to him fully and let out a breath she didn't know was stuck in her lungs for weeks. In full uniform, except his mask, Steve looked at her in awe and hesitation. His lip was bruised and there was a long gash along the side of his forehead. His right eye was slightly reddened, surrounded by yet another bruise. Natasha took all of it in slowly, each injury hurting her in unique ways.

Their eyes still locked, and mouths slightly parted, Steve didn't move and Natasha walked over to him slowly. His warmth was comforting; her shoulders relaxed and her eyelashes suddenly felt moist.

It happened in an instant. She reached to touch his chest, cautious and bracing herself in case he stepped back - in case he rejected her. Instead, he pulled her elbow closer until she came crashing into the welcoming expanse of his chest, strong arms around her immediately.

"I've missed you so much," Natasha heard herself say in a voice that was very much hers and so uncharacteristically young, afraid, and pained. She clung to him; hands grasping at his back. Steve's voice broke, holding back a choked sigh of relief.

"So have I, Nat."

"Steve," Natasha said, voice breaking as her lips formed the name she desperately wanted to whisper between the two of them.

"Don't Nat. Don't tell me to stop fighting Tony. I can't let this happen when I know the power he'll have will be abused."

"I know you'll keep fighting. I just want you to stay alive. Awake and alive, if possible," she said, looking at to him again, a ghost smirk in her lips, "I need you alive after all of this."

"I don't know what will happen. It's my responsibility to keep Bucky safe - to keep all of them safe."

"Well, I'm giving you another objective, Captain. Stay alive. It's your responsibility to me."

"Nat…"

"No, you listen, you selfless jerk," she said, backing away from his embrace and pointing her sharp finger in his chest, "You fight all you want, Rogers. Stark is furious and will stop at nothing to get what he wants. And I know you will too. And hell, punch your way out of anything you want. And I don't care...broken, bruised, beaten, I don't care as long as you make it back alive."

Steve pressed his lips together tightly, his eyes torn and weary. She knew he was fighting hard to not make a promise to her. And Natasha knew what she was asking him was out of both of their controls. Steve would never stop fighting and that included fighting for himself, for her. But if he couldn't - her mind rejected the thought but she pressed on - if he couldn't, he'd be breaking his promise and that was something Steve Rogers never did.

But Natasha Romanoff was nothing if she wasn't persistent. His promise was her guarantee.

"Promise it, Rogers," she demanded, hands clenched at her sides, her stance defensive and her chest heaving in short, fast breaths, "Promise me."

"I can't Natasha. If I die-"

"You won't die!"

"But if I do, it'll be because I died fighting for something I believed in. For something I never gave up on."

"I don't give a shit about everything going on around us if that means you'll give up fighting to stay alive," she yelled, frustrated.

"I never said I'd stop fighting!"

"Then promise it, Rogers. Damn it, promise me you'll come back alive," Nat said, her voice giving into the tremble taking hold of her throat, "Steve, I love you. Please."

The world caved in on her as soon as the words left her mouth. Her chest felt heavy and her lungs ran out of air too quickly. Before her, Steve looked just about torn with her confession - eyes watery and stance broken.

"You know I've always loved you," he said, voice unrecognizable, "And that's why I can't promise it, Nat. If I don't come back alive, I don't want to end it with a broken promise."

"It can't end like that," she asked closing the space between them. Her hands found themselves running through his hair, bringing his face closer to her. Steve didn't falter; his arms wound around her waist to end the offending space between them for good. Their lips sealed on each other, addictive, urgent, and knowing. He deepened the kiss, bringing her higher so that her legs hitched around his hips.

The kiss was passion itself fueled by desperation and unleashed by anger. Never before had Natasha felt this vulnerable but she welcomed it, as Steve pressed her against a cement wall - teeth grazing her swollen lips. As expected of their stubbornness, their tongues clashed and danced together. Her hand molded against the back of his neck - where it belonged - she kept Steve close to her.

"I have to go, Nat…" Steve whispered, cradling his head in the crook of her neck as they settled their breathing, "And so do you."

"You're a ghost."

"As are you," he said, placing a small yet heated kiss behind her ear, "I don't want Stark questioning your whereabouts."

"He already doubts me," she said, feeling Steve tense against her, "But I'm safe. He doesn't want more confrontation."

"Good," he said, still keeping her in his hold as he lowered his voice to a barely there whisper against her neck, "Because I still can't let you go."

"I can't let you go either. Besides, you still haven't asked me to stay alive," she asked, clinging to him like before. He chuckled in a tired whisper as he brought his forehead to rest against hers.

"Do you really think I don't do everything in my power to protect you...even if you're in this against me?"

"I'll never be against you."

"And I'll always come back to you."