It all happened in slow motion. Natasha saw how Jo pulled the trigger, again and again, saw the look of delight on the man's face and the look of shock on Steve's as the bullets hit him and he fell to the floor. She saw the look of horror on Jo's face when she realized what she had done.

What she didn't see was the movement of the man's arm right before the window shattered and he screamed out in pain, an arrow sticking from his shoulder.

"Jo, drop the gun," Natasha said as calmly as she could muster. "Drop it. Slowly, on the floor, and kick it away." Natasha was still aiming her guns at Jo and the man, even though the man didn't seem to be a real danger right now, rolling on the floor and whimpering in pain.

"Nat, what about Rogers?" Clint's anxious voice seemed to explode in her head.

"Shut up!" she whispered. "In a second"

She looked at Jo again. Her gun was still pointing to where Steve had been standing only seconds ago, her hands shaking hard, her face full of terror. "Jo, you will put the gun down, now!"

And finally Jo did as she had been told. Slowly, she put the gun on the floor and kicked it away to the other end of the room, all the while shaking hard and staring at Steve, who was lying on the floor, with an expression of utter shock on her face. She looked years younger as her gaze left Steve and caught Natasha's eyes. "Natasha, what have I done?" It was barely more than a whisper.

"Jo, is this you?" She had to make sure, even if it cost her precious seconds.

"I think so," Jo answered, her voice shaking and unsure.

"Prove it"

" I don't know how. We don't know each other that well, Natasha. You never tell anything about yourself."

"True." It was good enough for her, for now. If it hadn't been Jo, she would probably have told her something standing in her file. Well, that part of the file that was accessible. Natasha lowered one of her guns, now only aiming at the man on the ground. "Come around from the table and see what you can do for Nick," Natasha said and crossed the few yards between her and Steve and bent down to him.

"He's breathing," Jo said. "I think I just knocked him out."

"Come over here," Natasha said as she felt for Steve's pulse. It was still there and surprisingly strong.

"Nat, I need a status." It was Clint again.

"Get the medics," she snapped into the communicator. She knew that Clint wanted more information, but there wasn't time.

She felt Jo's presence and looked up at her. She was staring at Steve in shock, her eyes wide open, her hands pressed over her mouth, seemingly unable to make her own decisions.

"I need you down here, Jo." Natasha had dealt with people in shock before and knew that they needed orders most of all. "I need you to put pressure on his wound, okay? Just like you did with Salinger. Can you do that?"

Jo nodded and crouched down beside her, pressing her shaking hands on Steve's bleeding stomach. Steve's shoulder had also been hit, but Natasha wasn't sure whether the bullet was still in there or had gone straight through. Natasha shrugged off her sweater to give it to Jo as a makeshift bandage when she realized that the steady whimpering in the background had stopped. She heard a movement and a clicking sound.

"I would think twice about that."

Natasha whirled around, gun ready, to see Nick, standing upright, pointing a gun at the man on the floor, whose hands had wandered into the pocket of his jacket, probably to draw a gun.

"Tamila," the man groaned. "Kill them, finally."

Natasha looked back at Jo, whose shaking hands didn't leave Steve's body. Her gaze was fixed and her fingers clawed into the bloody tissue of Steve's shirt. She said nothing, but it was evident that she was still Jo.

"It's alright, Natasha, I got him covered," Nick said. "What about Rogers there?"

"He's…"

"Awake. I'm awake…" Steve's voice was hoarse. She looked at him, the eyes in his pale face open but exhausted. "How long was I gone?"

"Only about a minute, maybe two," Natasha said.

Steve straightened up, groaning in pain as he did so, but Jo didn't stop to put pressure on the wound, yet she also wasn't looking at him.

"You should stay down." Natasha realized herself how tensed her voice sounded. "Clint's called the medics already, we should wait for them."

"No, you shouldn't, Natasha," Nick put in. He was standing by the desk by now. With his gun, he still kept the man in check, but his eyes continued to check the monitors on his desk. "The three of you should get out of here ASAP, the first S.T.R.I.K.E. unit's on their way already. Natasha, you know how Rumlow shoots first and asks later, and we don't need this right now." The man on the floor moved again. "And you stay where you are!" Nick bellowed, his finger on the trigger twitching. "Rogers, can you get up and get out?"

"Guess so," Steve answered. His voice sounded strained and the bloodstain on his shirt was getting bigger, just like the bloodstain on his shoulder.

"Hawkeye, we're coming down," Natasha said into her communicator. "Underground parking."

"Got it, Nat. We'll meet you there."

"Then let's get you down." She tried to make her voice sound light and keep the concern she felt when she looked at Steve, and also at Jo, out of it. She crouched down next to him, laid his arm over her shoulder, and slung her other arm around his back. Steve didn't flinch when she flexed his shoulder, making her hope that the damage wasn't lasting. Jo did the same on his other side before they stood up. She felt his weight press upon her, weighing her down, and she didn't like it, as it meant he had to rely on their presence to stand upright while Nick called for his private elevator and they made their way across the room, just as Nick had indicated them to do.

Jo was still pressing her hand on his wounds, bloodied by now, and her gaze locked on the floor.

A soft sound indicated that the elevator had arrived, and a normal-looking piece of wall parted to let them enter. "Get them on the ground floor," Fury said, his gun still pointing at the man on the floor, his eyes never leaving him. They got into the small metal chamber, the doors closing after them.

"Josephine, are you okay?" His voice was tensed and he closed his eyes after he said it, his face a grimace filled with pain.

"This is all my fault," Jo whispered, looking away.

"It's alright," he said quietly. "You're back, and you're a bad enough shot" He chuckled quietly, but stopped right away. Natasha felt how his muscles tensed and bit her lip when Jo told the wall that she was sorry. She looked at the numbers over the door. They were only at the twenty-third floor by now.

"Nat, we're waiting." Again it was Clint's voice that tore her out of her thoughts.

"We're about halfway down," Natasha responded into the communicator. Nervously she was watching the glowing red numbers as they counted down the floors when she felt Steve's body going rigid next to her and she noticed how his breathing became more labored. She looked up at his face, but his eyes were closed and small beads of sweat were on his forehead. He tried to push Jo's hand away from his stomach and to free himself from Natasha's grasp as well.

"Steve, stop it," she said calmly and tightened her grip on him. "You've been shot and lost a lot of blood. Be happy you're still standing, you're going right into shock."

"I don't go into shock, that's crap," he mumbled.

"Please, Steve, please stay calm." Jo was talking in an unusually composed voice, almost distracted, Natasha observed worriedly.

"Steve, we're going to sit you down. I think standing's not your best option at the moment," Natasha said, her eyes still fixed on the red numbers. There were still ten more floors to go.

They lowered him on the floor, leaning him on the metal wall, where he closed his eyes again, breathing heavily, his hand clenched over his stomach with his fingers gripping his bloodied shirt. Natasha laid her hand on Steve's trembling shoulder as she got up again, not too sure whether he felt her touch.

"Jo, what about you?" Natasha looked at Jo, who was still crouching next to Steve, her eyes full of fear.

"What about me?"

"Are you in control?" She had been afraid of this since Jo came to herself in Nick's office and her hand found the way to the gun on her hips.

Jo got up, standing right opposite her and looking her straight in the face with an expression of blankness that quickly made way to one of shock. "I don't know," she breathed. "I don't know. Yes… no. No, I don't… I'm not in… control."

Natasha closed her eyes for the fraction of a second. So she hadn't been wrong. "You know what I have to do now, Jo?"

Jo nodded. She looked like a young girl when she closed her eyes.

When the elevator doors finally opened, Natasha was the only one to remain standing.

A/N: Dear Guest, thanks for the review, even though I have to admit that I didn't quite get it. Is this some sort of reference that I don't know about?

Anyway, guy's, I'd really be happy if you'd leave a comment. I have no idea whether it makes any sense at all to keep posting when seemingly nobody is interested :(