For better or worse, Marvel owns all of this stuff, not me.

-0-

Many thanks to my wonderful Betas, Bobbie23 and MasterQwertster! Along with help from theicemenace and KaydenceRei. Be sure to check out their stories!

-0-

Chapter 36: Escape

-0-

Previously: US military personnel were onsite to investigate –accurate, yet planted— evidence that Natasha had killed their fellow soldiers. Meanwhile, their pawns infiltrated the Avenger's Headquarters using the sole sample of Pym Particles HYDRA had originally stolen.

TheAppendix's mercenaries infiltrated Avenger Headquarters to re-brainwash Bucky Barnes into the Winter Soldier, while planting bombs. In the ensuing chaos, Bucky was killed by War Machine, with Captain America trying to kill him in retaliation. Iron Man and Lady Sif arrived shortly after, with the latter taking Captain America and successfully escaping. Falcon was caught in an explosion, while Vision was unharmed. Many US soldiers were also killed or wounded by explosives concealed by Pym Particles until they re-grew in size to detonate. Bruce, Natasha, and Wanda successfully escaped, but came upon several squads of soldiers killed by a single, unknown assailant who apparently wanted them to escape.

-0-

"The world is not always good. I tell the stories to make them feel better. I tell the stories to make myself feel better, too. They are children. They are innocents. And innocents I wish them to remain. At least a while longer. I wish all children could remain so."

-Volstagg (Earth-616)

"Fear Itself: Journey into Mystery," by Kieron Gillen, 2011

-0-

Avenger's Headquarters

(former)

Twenty-four hours after the death of Bucky Barnes

The home and fortress of the Avengers collapsed in on itself, the fire beyond control, gutting the building.

Whoever had bombed this place and his soldiers –and one General Glenn Talbot knew that someone was both attacking and framing the Avengers for said attack- had somehow placed a series of explosives and incendiary devices throughout the complex and surrounding field.

Many of the Avenger's (surviving) support and security staff had been evacuated, with the main holdup sadly being how they were waiting for Captain America to return and confirm it was all safe. Impatient, Iron Man had just ripped down the door, gestured at the ensuing fire, and started to stomp towards the exit he had cleared.

Steve Roger's current location was still unknown.

Fortunately, they had gotten the message before he had to double-back and carry them all out.

The SHIELD agents masquerading as Stark Industries employees –or whatever their paperwork said— were all in custody right now. Every one of them from Maria Hill herself down to the lowliest janitor were keeping quiet; which, given the circumstances, might be wise of them. They were cooperating only so their wounded receive medical care, or contacting the next of kin as needed.

(On a side note, Talbot was unsure whether he was unnerved or intrigued by the idea of having a custodial staff who were all trained in espionage, counter-espionage, and how to use each and every one of their cleaning supplies to kill someone in at least five different ways).

The only clues as to what had happened here was a single, unexploded incendiary bomb Iron Man discovered while searching for more wounded. The newly re-enlisted (since the alternative would have been conscription) Avenger was convinced that it was Steve Rogers who had disarmed it, and Talbot was willing to take his word for it. Already both of them were trying to figure out what had really happened.

It was already clearly evident that this had been the result of meticulous planning. Even Iron Man's personal AI had been compromised, something he had only discovered when he had called his 'Asset Manager' Happy Hogan, and told the man to investigate Stark Tower in person. A task the man seemed to embrace with gusto, given the excitement in the mans' voice.

An autopsy of Bucky Barnes, backed up by the disgusting writing on his chest— had confirmed that he had been under mind control. Still, given how Colonel Rhodes had come across him shooting at Captain America while leveling a grenade launcher, both Talbot and Stark reassured him he made the correct judgment call. Now if only the man himself would come to accept it…

Regardless, Talbot, and (mostly) Stark and Vision, were investigating the bomb and whatever trace evidence could be found. Hopefully they could track down the true guilty parties.

Unfortunately, it was clear which way the political wind was shifting. The men and women who had expressed their doubts about the Avengers Initiative from the beginning, saw the opportunity to take the reins of those with fantastical abilities. Or those who were afraid, especially after the demonstration of otherworldly power at the Battle of Las Vegas, and wished to exert control over that which scared them.

That was not to say such individuals were in the majority for the US government. No, Talbot had more faith in those elected officials than that! To his immense concern those, who he had expected to be more even-minded and reasonable, were being surprisingly quiet or even supportive of government control over the Gifted and Empowered. When he voiced these anxieties to Stark, the man's response had been as if he half-expected it. A few further dark hints from the mechanic, also left Talbot concerned that blackmail was influencing people at the highest levels of government.

The man was clearly keeping more secrets than just that, but Talbot was unsure of how to pry them out.

So as much as it disgusted one General Glenn Talbot, it was apparent that any 'irregularities' which were reported, would be swept under the rug.

Within twenty-four hours of this catastrophe, it had been quietly yet unequivocally made clear that the Avengers who did not immediately sign the Sokovia Accords would be charged with attacking the military in a cowardly ambush upon their arrival at Avenger's Headquarters. That Steve Rogers and the others who fled were now being considered fugitives, as their absence only proved their guilt in the murder of US soldiers in Las Vegas, which Talbot and his boys and girls had been sent to inquire about.

As for the 'chief murderess' in question, Natasha Romanoff, along with Bruce Banner and Wanda Maximoff, were in the wind, they would be saddled with the additional charges of killing those poor squads under Talbot's command. Stark and Rhodes were adamant they were innocent of that spree of deaths, that for all their skills they could not have pulled that off in the manner those deaths had happened.

To the disgust of all three of them however, it did not matter. The government wanted scapegoats, examples, and solutions, and they wanted them now. This would provide all of that.

To make things worse was discovering the corpse of the missing Lieutenant General Thaddeus Ross of the US military, whose presence was apparently a complete surprise to Rhodes, Vision, or anyone else who had lived in the compound. To all appearances the man –who Talbot was willing to concede was a Class-A Jerk— had been incarcerated illegally, which was something Steve Rogers or Natasha Romanoff would have to answer for, regardless of if they were cleared of every other charge.

No, the most I can do for them, along with Stark and everyone else, is keep it quiet about that little girl Romanoff had with her…

Best of luck to you people. You've still got a lot to answer for, but I'm sure there's a lot you are innocent of. Hopefully you'll be able to prove it, and just maybe you'll fair better than us at finding who's responsible for all this death and misery.

Talbot almost pitied the poor fools who had undoubtedly succeeded in making both the Black Widow and Hulk violently angry at them.

Sitting at his desk in his field tent, Talbot grimaced as he read a report reminding him of another tragedy. Amongst the fatalities had been Doctor Erik Selvig, the Director of SWORD, and a respected scientist.

Tony Stark had been weirdly insistent in confirming Selvig's fate, and if his brain was intact…

XXX

Siberia

Appendix Headquarters

Robert Banner raged and cursed, using words Helmut Zemo had never even heard before, or made no sense in the context. Maybe they become curses in that alternate future? I almost feel sorry for Nick Fury that his name becomes slander. Now it if were Stark's name…

Phillip Coulson was going through his laptop with an intense expression as his fingers flew over the keyboard. I guess he never really adapted to touch screens, Zemo thought. Of course, the Sokovian was self-aware enough to know he was trying to distract himself. After all, in investigating a mistake they had apparently made, they might uncover Zemo's own sabotage. Like how Romanoff and her child had never received any warning before the communications were jammed. Just a few minor changes to the orders they might miss, especially given how the whole infiltration team was predictably killed by the Avengers. But they'd never believe it was an accident.

"Why are you concerned about this Selvig dying?" Zemo asked out loud.

Robert just screamed another foul sentence, while Coulson looked up from his work—safely distracted from digging deeper. "Multiple times Dr. Erik Selvig's mind was exposed to objects known as Infinity Stones. Consequently, he had some vital secrets buried in his subconscious. Accessing them was essential to helping us build a game-changer to challenge Thanos."

Careful, careful, Zemo cautioned himself, struggling to keep his expression perfectly composed. Or you'll provoke them into shooting you. "And you believed he would not be caught up enough in the Avenger's battles to be endangered."

Which makes you both stupider than I ever imagined, was what Zemo wanted to say. Or is it just that your fixation upon the Avengers –because he wasn't an Avenger— makes you just that blind? Whatever the answer, the fact remains that you failed to either secure or protect a vital strategic resource that you knew about! No wonder Thanos conquered the future with geniuses like you around!

"That is what the INSIGHT program told us," Coulson groused. "Even when the Avengers started deviating from the predictive algorithms…well, predicted, we thought we knew him well enough that he'd stay away from the mess at Avenger's Headquarters. Now he went and got himself killed."

After all, it was hardly the Appendix's fault that Selvig placed himself squarely in front of the killer they were responsible for brainwashing.

"Instead of worrying about that, we should focus upon the government," Zemo said. "The US, and all the other nations pressuring them to make it happen, are going to have Stark and the others touted as the loyal, true heroes of the world. You may have blackmailed them into pushing your agenda," –using either the traditional forms of coercion, or threats to unleash advanced scientific knowledge to the general public or enemies of America— "but now you've got to focus on making it stick. Including in the eyes of the public.

"As for Captain America, Black Widow, and the rest, we don't have the resources to find them, so we've got to be sure we monitor any alerts or relevant communications, so that we know where they are as soon as anyone else does. And have the necessary steps in place to handle whatever happens."

Coulson hesitated, still wanting to find out where they had failed, when Robert decisively took that choice away from him. The scientist picked up the laptop and threw it against a wall. "He's right. We can't mope around about what went wrong any longer. We've got work to do."
Biting his tongue for an instant, eyeing his laptop for any damage, Coulson nodded. "I'll need my laptop back, to start."

Freezing, Robert glanced at where he had chucked it. "Oh, right. Um, sorry?" He picked it up, and handed it back. Promptly the former SHIELD agent got to work.

Zemo breathed a mental sigh of relief—then realized just how close Robert had suddenly become. "I won't look for any clues that you may have endangered Laura," he whispered into Zemo's ear. "Nevertheless, in the future, I'd better never even suspect that you're planning something cute. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Zemo quietly replied. He knew that even if he had been innocent (which he was decidedly not), in this situation a clear affirmation was the only thing that would keep him alive.

"Good." Then Robert walked out of the room for whatever purpose, while Coulson acted as if nothing had happened.

Feeling a chill come over him, Zemo began to wonder once more just what he had gotten himself into. He also very, very carefully did not look over at the two cryogenic chambers resting to the side of the room.

They still looked like coffins, yet just half-an-hour ago he had caught sight of one of the occupants climbing back in. On Robert's orders.

XXX

Somewhere in America

One Week Later

It was a busy street in the mid-sized American city, with a fair crowd surrounding the TVs displayed in one store window. No surprise there, for while the sound was muted, the words beside the news anchorwoman on the screen, as well as the text scrolling beneath her, said all that was necessary: "Sokovia Accords enacted. Avengers under government mandate."

"Three members of the Avengers gone rogue: Bruce Banner the Hulk. Natasha Romanoff the Black Widow. Wanda Maximoff the Scarlet Witch. All to be considered highly dangerous and volatile."

There was one gap in the murmuring group of people taking in the news. A bubble they were all struggling to stay out of.

A homeless man wrapped up in several layers of clothing despite how warm it was, which was especially regrettable given how much he simply reeked. It was highly improbable he had washed in the last few months, smelled of drugs, and even his own urine. Even as he –apparently— listened, he continued to mumble incomprehensibly to himself, while drool dangled from his mouth, amongst dirt, and grey stubble. Off to the side was a large shopping cart piled high with stuffed garbage bags, teddy bears, a long stick that theoretically could be used for self-defense by the hunched, grey-haired figure, rags, a few bottles, a single rubber ducky, and other things that people refused to try and recognize.

So, they ignored him as best as they could, and even a police car driving by decided to overlook him. Taking someone like that in was just begging to have to clean your car afterwards. Besides, he looked too harmless to be trouble.

A few minutes later the news started to repeat itself, he stumbled back to his cart, leaning on it as if he would fall without it, and started walking away.

As he went, he started to sing to himself. Predictably, he had a terrible voice, there was no tune, and he kept changing the lyrics from being about alien abductions, to wondering if he could get chicken nuggets from Donald Trump's garbage bin. The most irritating part was how he kept changing the pitch from high to low at random.

Everyone continued to give him a wide berth…which is why none of them noticed how every alternating word whenever his pitch dropped, could be used to spell out a sentence.

Of course, that was just ridiculous. No one could be that paranoid. Right?

XXX

Wanda Maximoff was trying figure out how this had become her life.

Oh, not the part about how she had been experimented upon by a secret cult of neo-Nazis, fought an evil android alongside superheroes to save the world, and was now on the run from the authorities. If nothing else, various pieces of fiction provided a basic –if shaky— framework for her to get by.

It was not even –sort of— her present circumstances: riding in a shopping cart, with wire, garbage bags stretched out, and actual garbage creating a camouflaging shell around them for concealment.

Yes, Wanda, Natasha, and Laura were all stuffed into the shopping cart, underneath the 'garbage bags', while the homeless man pushing them was Bruce.

Laura was being kept quiet with a minor invention of Bruce's that would make him an instant billionaire if he ever patented it. Mini-headphones for her ears, an I-Phone for her to watch downloaded videos of silly animals doing silly things, but the pièce de résistance was a noise dampener near her mouth. It automatically made it so that a shrill scream for attention made just as much noise as a giggle of humour as dogs in police hats saved the day. Invented after the near catastrophe in Las Vegas when Natasha had to carry Laura around with her, it made sure that the little girl was never too loud while on the run. The potential for other parents to abuse it, luxuriate in their children being silent, was why Bruce had not marketed it.

As for Natasha, she was using her Stark Industries I-Pad to remotely hack into various government databases. While apparently simultaneously keeping track of Bruce's coded messages disguised as a mad man's song. Wanda had given up trying to keep up with it, a few blocks back.

No, what made Wanda so insecure about her life was how Natasha, her closest lady-friend and honourary aunt, kept samples of her husband's urine in safe houses around the world, so that she could quickly spray it on his clothes.

Why his own urine and not someone else's? (Not that Wanda had asked, Natasha had just volunteered that 'tip'). Because it "helped sell the act."

This was Wanda's life now.

Then something shifted with Natasha –No, that's not her right now, Wanda instinctively knew— as she worked. Her expression did not change, nor did her fingers so much as hesitate as they flew over the electronic keyboard. Yet Wanda knew there was a peculiar hardening –an icy thing, more sensed than seen—in the Black Widow's eyes.

Something that made her very glad to not be the cause of it, and within the tight confines of the cart, Wanda pulled Laura a little closer towards herself.

Yes, this was their life now.

XXX

A few hours later, Bruce made his way to an abandoned warehouse, where undesirables were kept out by a grim door, and a thick, solid padlock. Even bolt cutters would be intimidated by it. However, a little work with some slim tools his wife had taught him and the other Avengers to use, and it opened.

Still in disguise, he made his way through the building until he reached the back, his senses on edge. Finally, he reached the closet that had been described to him, and after fumbling with the fake floor, found the hidden lock. He lifted up the trap door on well-oiled hinges, revealing a hole and ladder leading down. "We're here," he said normally, starting to detach the concealing shell.

As the ladies and girl awkwardly got out, stretching limbs that had been immobile for too long, Bruce patiently waited. It was not as if he were insecure about his appearance; when he had been on the run years ago, he had been a homeless person at least a dozen times. In fact, this time his appearance was far more detailed than anything he ever used before. His shirt under the first coat had several collars sewn into it, making it look like he had several layers on. The stubble was natural since it grew quickly, and something resembling vegetable oil in his hair made it greasy. He just kept his distance since he doubted they would appreciate his new aroma.

Of course, underneath everything Bruce was wearing, he still wore that special prototype armour of Tony's. The primary function of which was to ensure watchers did not realize they were wearing full-body armour.

A few minutes later, they were in the concealed basement, clearly dug by hand-tools.

"So old," noted Wanda in curiosity. "Where are we?"

"One of the original Black Widows made this," Natasha explained. "It was one of her personal safe houses while on assignment to America. She had to lay low at one point, so she spent her time digging. She later told me about it." Nodding, Wanda accepted this. Meanwhile, Bruce was doing maintenance on the armour, including toweling off the worst of his disguise so that it did not stink up the place.

Since it was clear that Wanda was still on edge, Natasha refrained from elaborating that said former Black Widow had tried to defect after her handler betrayed her. One of newest generation of Black Widows, Natasha had been dispatched to hunt her down, with orders to drain the traitor of every secret, and then execute her. After Natasha successfully accomplished her mission, she had 'forgotten' to report some of those little tidbits she learnt.

She was the last Black Widow now.

On cue, she slipped back into that persona as Bruce rejoined them.

"This situation is pretty awful," Black Widow bluntly began. "Rhodes killed Bucky, and then Steve tried to kill Rhodes. Somehow the Appendix must have gotten to Bucky, and reprogrammed him back into the Winter Soldier. Since we know HYDRA invented some increasingly sophisticated forms of mind control, and the Appendix seem to have their own, the only question is how they got to him. Even then, the government is theorizing it might have something to do with Pym Particles."

Bruce grimaced. "I'll have to take a look at your copies of those reports. If it is Pym Particles, if someone else besides Dr. Pym has figured out how to make them work, then we've got trouble. More trouble I mean."

Black Widow continued her briefing. "According to the files I hacked –and Tony's shut down all our passwords he knew about—it doesn't look good." Her tone remained level and composed, but the other two could still sense the emotions buried deep. "As the Director of SWORD, Selvig's death has been confirmed. Falcon has been hospitalized and is in a coma. Rhodes has already recovered, while Stark is taking charge, and fully cooperating with the government. As for the SHIELD agents, I don't have numbers on their casualties, but the survivors are all in custody.

"In essence, the Sokovia Accords have been passed by the American government with immediate effect, to be actioned with full force"
There was silence amongst the adults for few heartbeats, before Wanda asked the obvious. "What about us then?"
"Branded as deranged fugitives from the law, wanted for the mass murder of US soldiers," Black Widow flatly answered. "All three of us. They're including the dead ones we came across. Some of the reports I found indicate some military personnel, like General Talbot, are skeptical, while the politicians, either out of panic or greed, are jumping on this to call for our arrest. Lethal action authorized. They'll shoot first, then ask questions they already have answers for.

"If we're lucky, it will be Tony and the other Avengers who find us first, and even they'll be ordered to turn us in. I doubt we'll find the accommodations comfortable."

Having said that, Black Widow turned her attention to checking the condition of the weapons she stored here. She already absorbed this unfortunate turn of events, and was sure she knew what they had to do. Selvig had been a friend and lab partner for Bruce, staying over for dinner with the Avengers several times, and had been well liked. Natasha had just been starting to truly let Bucky into the circle of their growing family as well, and he had been killed in what must have been his worst nightmare. Steve was doubtlessly tearing himself apart in emotional anguish over what had happened. Likely dozens of SHIELD agents, men and women she had worked and lived with, were dead. Finally, their home had been violated and destroyed.

The Black Widow felt these things hurt her, if not as much as Natasha Romanoff-Banner. Dividing herself into separate personalities, similar to Bruce with the Hulk was possibly unhealthy, but she refused to let that stop her. It would be her fuel, the stone that whetted the blade of the knife she would shove into the spines of those responsible.

Once the others came to terms with everything, they could discuss it. As for Laura, she was already sound asleep atop a cot.

"Natasha," Wanda hesitantly began, "had an idea. While we were in the cart."

She explained it briefly, and did not need to elaborate. Bruce quickly figured out the rest, and pondered the pros and cons. "That should work. At the very least it'll take them," –with 'them' now covering evil time travelers, the government, and their own friends— "by surprise."

"How do we get there?" Wanda asked. They had travelled by foot and car after leaving the compound, stealing and changing cars several times to throw off the scent. Once they reached one of Natasha's safe houses she was sure neither SHIELD nor Tony knew about, they started wearing various disguises, with the bit as the homeless man merely being the most recent. At one point they had travelled cross-country in a cramped taxi, with Bruce wearing a bald wig, and Natasha using make-up to possess captivating blue eyes and blonde hair. She had played the role as 'Frank's' third and significantly younger wife, and a bit of a ditz at that. Wanda had been 'Frank's' put-upon, effeminate son, taking 'his' daughter to visit the little girl's mother, and see other family in the area for a birthday party.

Wanda had sworn bloody vengeance if the married couple ever said anything about her time as 'Wade.'

Bruce agreed, citing he wanted to repress all memories of Natasha speaking in that sickening-sweet tone.

Natasha just laughed.

"We'll have to go by sea," Natasha announced. "I can't get all four of us through airport security."

"Don't you have any faster means of transportation?" Wanda wondered.

"We do," Natasha admitted. "Unfortunately, the ones in America Tony either knows about, or are too close to cities where FRIDAY might detect us. Or SHIELD for that matter. And we've got to stay away from Tony and the others so as to prevent any crisis of conscience for them, for their own sakes. They have to be able to honestly tell any government officials they have absolutely no idea where we are; pure plausible deniability. Again, on my own I could manage it, but we're not separating anymore unless absolutely necessary. So safer is better. Once we get across the ocean however, I've got more options available throughout Europe and Africa."

"When do we leave?" Bruce queried. Then he gave a sad smile. "And I am going to be wearing the urine next time?"

Wanda groaned and buried her head in her hands.

And prayed that Natasha did not have any 'Scarlet Witch Samples.'

That was the problem with super-spies: you never knew.

XXX

Barton Farm

Clint Barton very pointedly did not immediately leap up and run for his gear once the fate of the Avengers broke over the TV news. He had also not done that earlier, when they first reported that Natasha was being accused of killing US soldiers.

Amateurs rushed in like that.

Hawkeye was a super-spy who survived to reach retirement, rare for someone in this profession. And guess what? He liked it.

He just sat on his couch, eyes staring out at nothing as he calmly and coolly assembled together the facts in his mind. What potential actions the players involved might take. The resources available to him.

For the entire week he had been like this, sitting there. At regular intervals food was placed before him to eat with automatic reflex. When it got dark, a blanket covered him up against the chill.

Throughout this, three pairs of eyes watched him expectantly for both direction, and for reassurance that things were not as dire as they appeared for their beloved aunt and sister-in-law. Nathaniel was mainly confused about the lack of attention from his father, but Cooper and Lila entertained him while trying to explain. Copper had seen his super-awesome dad get like this over a dozen times, so he was a pro at this. Lila had only experienced it four times, but she understood.

As for Laura Barton herself, her gaze also held love for her husband. Hawkeye was a legendary agent, the only one besides Natasha who SHIELD sent out on missions without an extraction plan because they were just that good. This glowing prestige blinded many however to the sheer amount of planning Clint put into an op, to ensure he could come back home again.

Which was not to say he did not fail to improvise like crazy once he was on the scene. One time when he inexplicably threw every piece of info and strategy aside to approach a certain redheaded assassin came to mind…

Clint loved his family more. Natasha was family, as were her kid and husband. Leaping in without a plan would do nothing to help. Moreover, if Tony actually was cooperating with the government, then there was probably a Stark Industries satellite fixated above the Barton Farm right this instant.

Tony'll keep quiet about my family, Clint thought with professional detachment. At the same time, he'll expect me to do something to help Nat. Probably figure he can tail me or something. Problem is, she was quite serious about me being retired, and only told me a few of her contingencies.

Still, he could make a few assumptions. Only one man knew Natasha Romanoff-Banner better than him after all, and he had a few suspicions about what she was up to. He also had some disposable satellite phones that one Tony Stark guaranteed were untraceable and impossible to listen in on (which Natasha confirmed by hacking the records, and then had Bruce look at). And then there were those dead drops he knew about…

Laura Barton and their kids relaxed as they saw Clint's slowly blooming smile.

XXX

Freighter crossing the Atlantic Ocean, leaving North America

A few days later

Uncharacteristically, Bruce found himself almost aroused by how near-perfectly Natasha had gotten them out of the US.

Predictably, port security had had them on a watch list, yet there was only so much manpower that the government could spread across the east coast—especially since they did not know if the 'rogue Avengers' were trying to leave the country. What Natasha had casually done was hack bank accounts to compare deposits, and snoop around until she found a deliberate hole in the port's own security as a particular freighter was arriving; almost as if certain custom officials had been paid to look the other way, and divert those less 'cooperative.' Slipping aboard, she found that it was crewed by modern-day human traffickers.

They never saw her coming.

Currently, the slavers were languishing in their own former cages, living off the same scraps they fed their captives. Upon reaching shore, Wanda would mess with their memories so they would not remember anything. Coupled with the darkness, grime, and how their rations would be withheld for the last few days of the trip, law enforcement on the other end would not be suspicious of how disorientated the prisoners were. If the police cared to ask. Bruce was unsure of what the sentence for slavery was for where they were going, but he doubted it would be pretty.

Almost makes you wonder if it would have been faster and more merciful for her to just kill them when taking the ship.

No! Never think that. We're Avengers, not Executioners. We don't have the right to take lives when we have alternatives!

The freed slaves had been absolutely grateful towards the Avengers. Especially when the few who spoke enough English learnt that Natasha could pilot the freighter back to where they had come from. The first few days with every member of the enthusiastic crew 'learning the ropes' had been exhausting of course. Regardless, none of the people they rescued was going to rat them out on the other side.

Well, there had been one exception. A sleazebag who Natasha had been sure would have sold their location for the right price. Nevertheless, a nighttime visit from the Black Widow had removed his spine.

(Metaphorically; she just left him permanently cowed in terms of the Avengers. With Natasha, it was important to be specific).

XXX

"Guhh," Natasha groaned as she collapsed exhausted onto her cot in the captain's cabin. She had taken it from the original owner, and no one disputed her claim.

"Forgetting that you're not superhuman?" Bruce gently chided, as he held up a cup of coffee, just out of her reach.

"If you weren't cute, I'd hurt you to get that," she threatened.

"Where do you think Laura got her looks from?"

Snorting, she levered herself upright to snag the coffee. She knew he was right in his wordless reminder that it if she took a nap now, she would never get to sleep tonight—especially since Laura was finally no longer waking them up. It was sweet how he worried, without being blatant about it.

Wanda volunteered to look after their little girl for now, since they both seemed to like looking at the waves.

"What've you been working on, when not serving as the ship's doctor or looking after Laura?" Natasha asked her husband.

He held out a small tablet, which projected a hologram to display a newer version of her Widow Bites. She took one look at it and shook her head. "No."

"But—!"

"Sorry Bruce, but no. You can't cram that much into them without making them too heavy for me. Being able to move quicker is more important than being able to outgun them." Whatever else you could say about Tony Stark, he instinctively understood the Avenger's individual needs for their weapons. Any adjustments he was asked to make by those he gave them to, were either very rare, or very minor. "As you said, I'm not super-human. To work with all that, I'd have to replace my arms with prostheses. And that'd be a bad thing," she added with a light glower as she caught the interest in his eyes.

Bruce glanced away, a little ashamed at that. "Yes, I'm sorry."

"Don't be in terms of the Widow Bites. I appreciate the thought. As for having metal hands and arms, I like my body just fine thank you." Then she set her cup down, and gently caressed his face. "And so should you," she purred, now stretching out further so his face was running across her wrists and inner arms.

He leant forward to kiss her. It was neither a chaste nor hungry, but born from intimacy and confidence in the gesture. The knowledge that she wanted it, and was holding him as much as he was holding her. A man kissing his wife.

Natasha fell back into the bed, pulling Bruce down with her as they continued to kiss and clutch onto one another. While their relationship was not sexual –to Tony's everlasting confusion, which was exacerbated by how Natasha delighted in making sex jokes towards Bruce, particularly BDSM ones— the touch and feel of one another was still something they cherished.

Especially in times like now.

Hunted by the world, with darker enemies in the shadows. The nebulous yet intimidating threat of Thanos on the horizon. Every moment they courted death together.

Alas, they were both strictly monogamous, and uninterested in a relationship with the Grim Reaper.

Joviality aside, once more they were on the run, except this time it was together. To further complicate matters, with Wanda and Laura in tow. While the young woman was more than capable of taking care of herself (or taking on a whole army for that matter), she was still a friend and adoptive family, and as much as she tried to hide it, Bruce could tell she was as nervous as any of them.

She deserves better than this. Wanda's barely in her twenties. She should be worrying about boys, university, not any of this. The world seems to keep giving her a bad hand…

"We could just hide. Disappear," Bruce suddenly said, even as he already knew the answer.

"Bruce," Natasha whispered. "I love you. And I love you even more for wanting to give me the chance; but we both know that's not in the cards for us. You're too smart to think hiding in some cave and sticking our heads in the ground will solve anything, not with the enemies we're up against.

"As for me," and her beautiful face was twisted by cold, ugly smile, "I'm too much of a predator. I'll only run for so long as it takes me to wear my pursuers out, and to find the best chance to ambush them. That's how I've survived."

She felt him stiffen briefly at her appearance, before clutching her tighter. "I know. I, I just had to ask."

"I just said that, Dork," she reminded him as she ruffled his hair. "Just as I know you love me for all my flaws."

"Well, how could I pass up on a woman willing to overlook my own," he joked.

"Not overlook them," Natasha Romanoff-Banner gently reprimanded. "See them, accept them. Love them as a part of you, because they are a part of you. As you do for me."

"You're a fighter, Natasha," and one hand came up to gently stroke her cheek. "You never give up. Ever. That's who you are. I just worry how much we'll have to pay for victory this time. I couldn't let you do this without giving you another chance (option). Sometimes how far you're willing to go unnerves me, but it'll never stop me from loving you."

They exchanged a quick peck to the lips.

Then she gave him a harder glare. "And we've been over this sappy exchanging of feelings before. We know we feel this way about each other. So, what's really eating you up?"

"Guilty as charged," he confessed, although he still had not let go. "It's just that I…" He hesitated, and Natasha squeezed him tighter, unwilling to let him go; encouraging him to open up to her. Whatever it was, she would listen.

"It's not about Robert," she mused, to both prompt and further reassure him. "I'm sure by now you've gotten the message that your evil doppelganger is not you. Soooo…"

He briefly pinched her side. "I am aware your second favourite interrogation technique is to make them think you know more than you really do, leading them into saying things they believe are harmless."

"Well, playing the helpless damsel won't fool you," she said while barring her teeth, harmless as humour danced in her eyes.

He snorted, then outright chuckled, and Natasha felt more tension leaving his body. Good, she thought, especially as started to caress her sides.

Finally, he fessed up. "You're right, but I just wanted to say all of that to you again. And hear you say it to me. Especially given what's going to happen next."

It took Natasha a few heartbeats to figure it out, and then the bloody organ nearly melted.

She pulled him in for a long searing kiss, before pulling him into a deeper hug, her lips to his ear. "Thank you, and I'm sorry for asking you like that. You're right, what we're going to do…we're basically raising the stakes in the hope that we can win it big. While the other players are hiding cards up their sleeves and the house is against us. No one said it would be easy, but we won't run from it. We'll face it together."

"Yes, we will," Bruce whispered back into her ear, luxuriating in the feel of her strong arms holding him close. His hands slipped under her arms, for his fingers to awkwardly yet effectively massage her upper back. "It's the only way Laura can have a future. The only way we can really be parents for her. As things stand now, with the Avengers divided by men too insane to see what's really happening, and the threats to come, if we don't do something now, the whole world's probably doomed.

"I just wish all of this wasn't resting on our shoulders. But with Steve missing, Tony too busy with damage control, and what we learnt about the others, we and Wanda are the only ones who can do it. So yes, I want to run, yet I know this is more important."

Rubbing his back, Natasha finished for him. "I love you Bruce, forever and always. And I'll say it again and again so you never forget."

"Dork," he chirped, before giving a high-pitched "Eeep!" as she started tickling him. "Mercy! Mercy!" he gasped out through laughter.

Laughing, she rolled him over and came down beside him, meeting his eyes. "You're the Dork, and don't you forget it!" she tried sternly say, but giggles kept bubbling through.

Oh, how I do love this man, Natasha thought. I've never been able to…relax and care like this before. Even with Cooper and Lily, I was afraid of breaking the kids. Bruce? Nothing can break him. He's the strongest one there is. He's indestructible.

"Besides," and now she could tell her husband was attempting a joke. "After all this, raising Laura to be an adult will be a piece of cake!"

Howling with mirth, Natasha slapped him on the stomach. "You wish! Never mind her as a teenager, stubborn as the two of us, asking to learn how to fight, can you imagine what she'll be like with 'Uncle Tony' spoiling her rotten when we're not looking!? She'll ask for a flying pony, and he'll hand her a book on genetic engineering while he goes to find out where he can do it legally!"

Bruce gaped in horror for a moment, before letting himself break into laughter too.

Oh well, he was a scientist, and he would hate for life to be boring.

XXX

Death Valley, California, USA

The Passage was exactly where their Master Loki, had told them it would be.

SHIELD had tried to find it of course, with HYDRA following them. Alas for their efforts, not only was it hidden within a crevice, ruins carved into the rock ensure that no mortal eyes or their primitive machines could see it. The slaves of Loki however, the ones still under the influence of his Scepter when it possessed the Mind Stone, had finished crafting the devices as they had been instructed. Tools born from the genius of Loki, and the knowledge from within the Infinity Stones.

The final contingency if all hope was lost for ruling both Midgard and Asgard.

Again, a tingling at the back of their minds tried to voice how all they received was a status update, not an order to set this in motion.

Once more, their concerns were answered.

"Don't worry, it'll all work out. This is what he probably really intended. He'll be proud of how loyal you're being, carrying out this task for him. This will vanquish your Master's enemies, and he will love you all," another voice soothingly whispered. Another, subtler layer of control beneath that of Loki's.

So, they listened to this wise advice and shook off their doubts, finishing their preparations. Unspoken amongst them, they all knew there was no going back.

Weapons ready, and the rest of their equipment ready to activate at a moment's notice, they stepped forward into the Passage.

One of the Secret Portals which allowed one to travel between the Nine Realms.

It would take some trial and error, but with this they would be able to reach IT.

XXX

Over Two Weeks Later

"There yet~?" Laura said with a sing-song.

"It's 'Are we there yet?', sweetie," Wanda gently corrected.

"Please don't encourage her," Bruce sighed.

"No way! I'm aiming to be the cool aunt!"

"Pop quiz," Natasha called out. "How many lethal weapons are trained on us right now?"

"Uhm, weeeell," Scarlet Witch stalled as her eyes swept around.

Bruce also looked up at the mountain.

They were currently in Africa, leaving South Sudan after a series of relatively minor adventures, including dodging authorities without revealing their identities, side-tracking to handle a small criminal gang because both Bruce and Wanda refused to let them keep selling drugs to minors, dispatching a terrorist cell that stumbled upon them, and Natasha remotely activating computers back in the US that would send out electronic 'clues' to keep both Bruce's Science Bro and the Appendix busy.

They had also passed on Robert's warning about Thanos to Tony.

"Does the whole mountain count as one?" he hazarded.

"If you want to, but there's still…fifty-three," Natasha answered, before checking her wrist computer. "No, I lied, sixty-two."

"Impressive. And yet you did not take the warning," said a voice that commanded both attention and respect.

None of the Avengers reacted to the presence of someone suddenly beside them. Their only response was to calmly turn around to regard him. On guard, yet not aggressive.

While it was only one man, even if one disregarded the number of defenses this place had, it was obvious he was not alone.

"Oh goody," Natasha smiled. "You're back from your little vacation in America as a vigilante. This does make it easier."

"Why are you here?" he asked, covered head-to-toe. There was no hint of surprise at her ability to identify him, or her knowledge of his activities.

"Oh relax, we're not here for asylum," Natasha said as she continued to be the spokesperson. "We're just here to tell you a couple of things about what's been going on in the world. Then your own scientists and spies can tell you that we're telling the truth, and you'll realize we've come to help save your people. King T'Challa of Wakanda, the Black Panther."

XXX

Barton Farm

Rolling out of bed, Hawkeye picked up his bow as he heard the sound of the approaching jet.

Time to get to work…

XXX

Author Notes:

Inspiration for how to go undercover as a homeless person from "Stiletto" by Daniel O'Malley.

-0-

Next Chapter: 'Stepping Up'

-0-

Please Review, and I will get back to you!