A/N: *Warning* *Intense Situations and MAJOR anxiety.*

La Madone: Haha! Yes she did! And Natasha has no regrets about hitting Fury either. Anxious to see what she'll do with Talbot? :)

RFK22: Aw. Maybe Natasha wouldn't shoot you. You'd probably remind her of Vrach. :) And yes, the gang will get their vengeance.


The General spins in his chair to face his partner, mid-conversation with another familiar face;

"Did you do it?"

Glen nods, eyes fixed on the Englishman with nothing but curiosity, anger and suspicion as he answers Ross:

"Yes. Hit me up with a few doses, but I'm gonna need help getting that stuff down his throat if you still want to shock him."

he lifts an eyebrow, awaiting clarification Talbot's happy to provide;

"Look, just because he's all drugged up doesn't mean, Banner's easy to deal with! Besides, the primal beast has been waiting for me to put my fingers near his mouth. I'm not going to do that."

The General gives a nod, quickly introducing the other man in front of him;

"Talbot, this is Blonsky, Blonsky, Talbot."

Glen instantly feels his blood boil at the name eyes shifting towards his leader;

"Is this some cruel joke?! You hired Blonsky?"

"Yes, fancy that. He'll help you with Banner."

"Sir, if he's going in there, I'm not. Banner's going to tear him to pieces and I don't want to be down there when it happens. Frankly, I'm surprised you'd even let the murder in our sight."

Ross gives Glen a look, picking up on the Colonel's anger;

"Seems to me you're getting a little angry about this yourself."

Talbot lifts an eyebrow;

"I believe I have reason."

Ross freezes, gears turning within the back of his mind before he can answer;

"No matter. Sometimes we befriend our enemies for a common cause."

"He's not your everyday enemy." Glen states matter-of-factly.

Blonsky narrows his focus, rightfully choosing to keep his mouth shut.

Ross growls, "I'm not talking about it anymore. Bring Blonsky to Banner and pull up a chair outside the cell. I'll meet you for the little cage fight."

"And, I'll assume you want me to transfer Banner to a bigger cell?"

He shakes his head;

"No need. Banner won't transform because of all the drugs. He's just going to get thrown around, should be interesting don't you think? Pretty humiliating when he won't transform. Helpless to take down someone he utterly can not stand."

"I wish you'd take your time and think about this. If you push Banner to a boiling point, I'm worried it'll backfire. I'm sure those SHIELD agents are already on his trial, and you better look out for that Black Widow."

He smirks, "There's only so much she could do if he were already dead by the time she got here."

"And Ivan?"

"Oh we'll take care of him as well. It'll drive her to pure insanity, turn her into an empty shell easy to eliminate. The others will come, but no rush. We'll take one step at a time and step one is getting Blonsky to Banner."

Glen drops his focus, shaking his head and tired of being the voice of reason;

"Yes Sir."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce tried to keep his eyes closed and breathe, just breathe. He had been biting viciously at his inner cheek and even that nasty taste of a little blood trickling over his tongue couldn't stop his anxious habit. The stress was burning inside of him, more nausea pooling through his core from the second Talbot injected him with that drug. There was something about the initial pinch that made him think of her.

Of course, Natasha was the only thing he thought about since he got there, wishing he could hear her laugh or see her smile. He couldn't help but smirk, remembering the way her eyes pretty green eyes lit up whenever she got excited.

Hell, she was in every dream since Ross took him, always smiling, happy, and safe;

The way it should be.

Bruce arches his head back thinking it would ease his dizzy spell, biting harder on his cheek as he clenched a fist to tug on his restraints. Bruce was starving for her affection, crumbling by the minute. He missed her gentle whispers, tender touch, and sweet kisses. If only Natasha were there to run those slender fingers through his dark wavy hair and reassure him that 'everything would be alright.' He was crumbling without her, losing a will to fight back when he had already 'given his soul to the devil.'

And yet, despite needing to cry in the worst way, the physicist kept restraining against all sorts of emotion to keep from satisfying his enemies with such a thing. Bruce feels his body tremble when a body hovers over him, too immersed in his own pain to recognize the Englishman above him.

Blonsky wastes little time in throwing him to the ground, snickering at the act;

"Come on Banner."

He melts back down, barely able to see the person above him through his blurry vision. His eyes close, seeing her pretty red hair and bright hazel stare. Bruce winces at the thrust against the wall, weakly feeling his head crash against the solid floor. He huddles his fragile frame into a ball to prepare for the attack. The doctor feels his other half growling internally, ready to find back until the drugs kick into high gear...

...There was no point. What did have worth living for anyways?

Bruce felt hopeless and worn out. His eyes closed sharply at the pain that shot up through his gut as Blonsky took a swing. His mind stayed on the red-head, the thought of never again seeing the girl he loved, hurt much more than anything physical. Banner went limp both emotionally and physically, letting his enemy do whatever he wanted.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Natasha had made her way to his room, glancing over all of the things he left behind. From Steve's sketch of Betty to the picture of his mother under his stack of papers. She hated the way he hid everything and how he always felt like he didn't deserve any sort of love. How she wished she could choke his father for drilling into him such self-deprecation!

Romanoff glanced over his '100 Reasons', lump forming in her throat as she fell onto his bed, clutching his pillow into her chest. She covered her nose with the end, closing her eyes to breathe in the sweet cologne that lingered over it. The red-head curled up into a ball, missing his perfect brown eyes and his sweet smile. There were tears in her eyes when she started to doze, remembering everything they'd been through. He was always there for her. Always offering a shoulder to cry on. Her arms couldn't wrap around his pillow any tighter, tugging on the sleeves of the navy blue top she threw on for comfort's sake.

Pepper passed by the cracked open door, doing a double take until she stood by the door frame. She freezes, breathing a heavy sigh. Pepper would've loved nothing more then to hug her friend and offer a consoling word. But Natasha looked like she need space, so Potts keeps her distance.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"What?!"

Tony's eyes widened, fist clenching and unclenching as the information barely processed through his mind. The color disappeared from his cheeks the instant Steve opened his mouth. The Iron Man looked limp, as if all the energy was taken from him. He eyes Clint, wasting little time in storming from his lab. Pepper follows him with extra concern, unable to stop her own tears from falling.

Rogers gives a heavy sigh, eyes closing when Natasha slowly walks into the lab, tender voice piercing directly through Barton's heart. They stayed at the table, Stark's pesky lab technology beeping to fill the silence.

She leans against the wall as she reads over a note written on elegant paper, still wearing Bruce's navy blue top. Pepper told them where she slept last night, how she clung onto his pillow for dear life. Natasha brushes a hand through her hair, vacant expression over her face as she addressed her fellow assassin in a very soft tone;

"Where's Clovis, California?"

Barton swallows heavy, clearing his throat before he answers her;

"Um, we can look it up if you want. Natasha, I, I need to tell you something."

She sighs, her eyes still fixed on her letter;

"I wish I found this sooner. At least I know where Bruce was headed. Maybe we can-"

He sighs, throwing his head back;

"Natasha, there's something I have to tell you."

She looks up green-hazel eyes glassy as she makes eye contact with Barton. She could pick up on his uneasiness;

"What's wrong Clint?"

He stands up, biting the side of his cheek with tears in his eyes. He gently takes up her hand, thumb brushing over her skin;

"Nat, Bruce- I'm sorry Natasha. He was- According to Fury he was killed yesterday. Natasha I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Her eyebrows lift, heart pounding twice as fast as the paper slips from her hands that have gone numb. Her cheeks flush as she lifts a hand to her temple, breathing pace quicken by the second as she pleads;

"Clint you're kidding...You're lieing."

She glances at the sternness Steve's face, pinching her bicep to ensure she's awake, huge lump in her throat. Natasha can feel the anger boiling inside of her as she raises her voice;

"Don't lie to me!"

Clint grips her shoulders, tears in his own eyes;

"Nat please!"

He shudders, seeing the water streaming down her flushed cheeks;

"You're lieing! It's not true! It can't be!"

The look on her face felt like a bullet fired through his heart. She pulls from him with nothing but force as she quickly disappears from the lab. She holds the walls for support, punching whatever gets in her way, digging her nails into her temples. Natasha makes it back to his room, closing the door before she throws herself face first over his bed.

-I've got to see him! I've got to hold him! Vrach!

Her back shudders as she lets everything go. She couldn't breathe, as if her heart had just been split down the middle. She couldn't think about anything but him, praying it was just a dream.

She slowly comes to her knees, eyes narrowing as she dashes for her room. Her mind felt vacant, needing nothing but his warm embrace. To think that she would never see those pretty brown eyes or hold him close made her feel completely sick. She hated whoever had taken his life, to focused on ending her own to even consider taking theirs.

Thor caught sight of her pale cheeks and wobbling nature, offering a hand for support;

"Lady Romanoff! Have you taken ill?!"

She pushes him out of her way, voice cracking as she hits a higher pitch;

"Stay away from me!"

His eyes widen, watching her until she closes the door of her bedroom.

Natasha pries open her closet, quickly slipping a pistol into her grip. She held her breath, more tears slipping down her cheeks as she stood ready to pull the trigger.

"Nat! Stop it!"

She fired, eyes reopening when she hears a familiar shrill. She covers her mouth, hands shaking just as much as the rest of her body;

"Clint! Oh God Clint! Please tell me you're alright! Please! Clint!"

Barton cringes, clutching his bicep;

"It's fine, it's, ugh, not that bad. Just scraped the skin. Nat, you're going to be alright, I swear. We'll get through this."

She falls into him, collapsing her head into his middle. He sighs, eyes closing as he wraps his arms around her tired frame;

"It's going to be okay, I promise."


A/N: Please don't kill me.