Note – I hope this finds everyone having recovered from the holiday season well. Mine was insane, but that's a good thing. Too much food. A lot of family and friends time. A lot of things to juggle, but I got through it, and now here's Ch. 24 for you all.

Enjoy the chapter below! See note at the end.

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 24 – Wake Up

Present Day – Task-Force Compound

"Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal?"

Tony's voice was a little too dramatic for it being so early in the morning.

Two weeks at the compound meant the task-force was bonding while working together. But it also meant little annoyances arose as Tony's sarcasm ran through the kitchen. Pepper kissed him on the cheek, "Don't pretend like you don't love the fact you got to spend your money on every part of this place, Tony. Even the coffee grounds in the disposal."

She left him in the wide and open kitchen to go work upstairs with Betty. Tony chuckled, knowing Pepper was right as he looked over at Bucky and Sam. They were in the midst of their normal wake-up routine, and were both smirking at him as they ate their cornflakes at the counter.

Wilson turned to Barnes, "Hey Bucky, how's that coffee taste? You made it fresh this morning, but I didn't actually see you throw the remnants from yesterday in the garbage." Sam finished off the milk in his bowl, but almost choked because Bucky smacked his back, "Ouch!"

Bucky shook his head, "What the hell, Sam. We're supposed to have each other's backs. We lived together for years. Nobody likes a narc."

Sam answered right back, "That's true, we did live together. And you did the same crap back then too. Just because there's more people to pick up after your sloppy ass now besides your wife, doesn't mean you need to completely revert to being a caveman. Have some decency, man."

Bucky looked like he was about to go down this rabbit hole of nothingness, into mindless arguing to keep their minds off of everything else. But Tony cut him off, sounding annoyed, "Oh my god, I never would've asked if I would've known your lover's quarrel would spark from it. Seriously though Bucky, the trash is right under the sink. Just toss the filter in the garbage next time. You're not in a biker gang."

It was all in good fun. The joking and razzing were a way to pass the time in between endless searches and long hours.

Bucky talked while slurping his own milk, "Sorry. It's early, and I'm cranky. But now that you reminded me of our roommate days, Sam...You guys notice how much it seems like we're all back at Quantico, since staying here?" Tony was drinking his own coffee as he raised his eyebrow, but Bucky continued, "No seriously. I mean look at my wife and Loki. They're on the couch in the living room, working on some techy crap that I still don't follow 99 percent of. And they look just like they did 12 years ago."

"That's true, but at Quantico there wasn't a four-year old boy sitting in between them. I mean, you acted four sometimes, Barnes...but still."

Bucky scoffed, "I never sat in between them, Tony. And you won't catch me there now. Peter can have at it. They can talk computers all they want."

Sam let out a laugh, "Yeah, and look at Rhodey, Maria, and Thor. Just like at Quantico, Fury has us all doing weird crap for him again, like the Morse Code telegraphing. They're in the conference room now working on it but are still struggling to get the hang of the machine after two weeks."

Bucky's face scrunched up, "You mean to tell me that I know a method of communication better than three people on this task-force, who work for the CIA, NSA, and Homeland?" Tony grinned, "I will take the word 'better' with a grain of salt. You told Colonel Phillips by accident the other day, on that machine, that Loki was Peter's father."

The three men laughed, trying to go over what they would hopefully figure out today, "Where is everyone else?" Tony asked. Bucky tilted his head towards the door, "Bruce is upstairs. Clint and Laura are in the garage area. Clint was showing her his weapons or something last night. I guess they're continuing it this morning."

"Showing her his weapons…Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Tony's joke made them all burst out now as Sam added, "I think Fury is out walking with Sarah. They've been taking a stroll every morning before most of us wake up. Can't keep secrets in a compound with spies, agents, and former military though."

"Taking a stroll…Is that what kids are calling it these days?" Sam laughed again at Tony's additional joke, but stopped when he thought about what the words actually meant.

Bucky had a scowl on his face now, "Yeah, maybe not so funny when we're talking about my mother, Tony. Where's my brother and Romanoff?"

Tony refilled all their cups of coffee, "Before I answer that…back to what we just glossed over like it was no big deal…What's going on with the two baby boomers in this compound? Since when were early morning walks part of daily routines between Sarah and Fury?"

Sam was grinning ear to ear as Bucky's cheeks turned red, "I don't know, Stark. Just drop it. Mom said she likes the fresh air, and Fury felt better if he was accompanying her outside."

Sam about spit out his coffee as Tony let out a low whistle, "Fury's got game. Didn't see that one coming."

Bucky glared at Tony with a harsh enough look that he changed the subject...fast, "Right. Right. Enough empty nester talk. We don't need to worry about the AARP crowd's personal time...Anyway, what were you asking? Right, your brother. He's working out upstairs with Romanoff, I think. Actually, now that you mention it Barnes, it is just like Quantico. They're still early birds, kicking all of our asses in the workout department."

Sam added, "And getting cozy again, having their own body language that only the two of them understand…with all those glances that make all of us uncomfortable."

A soft smile settled in, over the three men's faces, because they weren't uncomfortable. They'd all seen the incredible progression between Steve and Natasha over the last two weeks. Bucky especially, couldn't have been more relieved or happy about it. They didn't know any specifics nor did they need to.

Really, they didn't.

Natasha and Steve had been through every stage of hell separately. The first month after Steve had saved her, their family and friends only encouraged them to talk. Bucky had said his peace with both of them. And it all came from a place of love and being really concerned about two individuals.

So, six weeks after Loki's arrest, to now see the smiles, and the hand holding, and the quick kisses to the forehead, and yes, all the loving and sometimes smoldering glances? It was the biggest relief to those same family and friends that had been really concerned. Especially Clint, Wanda, Bucky, and Sarah. Because each of those small little signs, just mean that there was healing and love and trust, growing underneath.

That's all they needed or wanted to know.

Sam said quietly as he lifted his cup to his mouth, "Yeah, it does feel like Quantico in some ways. And that's just fine by me."

Tony broke them from their train of thought, "Okay, what are we, The Golden Girls? We got work to do. Poseidon? Fate of the country? Any of that ring a bell? Let's finish these coffees and shower and get back to it."

"Ouch."

"Nat, what is it?"

Steve and Natasha had just finished working out and were cooling down with their stretches. They'd woken up earlier, feeling rested even though they were following such an emotionally taxing evening, working through the rest of Natasha's memories, and the last of Steve's drawings.

The temptation to hide in the safety of each other's arms was definitely present earlier, but Natasha was actually the one to force themselves out of bed.

"Come on Steve," Natasha had said to him a few hours ago, "We got a long day ahead of us, and I don't think I moved a muscle in this bed the entire night."

Steve tightened his hold around her narrow waist and wouldn't budge, "Five more minutes," he grumbled. Some things were just like Quantico, indeed. Natasha smiled into his chest, humming as her lips found the bare skin on his neck, "Do you have any idea what we could do with those five minutes?"

It was early enough, and they were secluded from the heaviness of the night before and the outside world in that moment, that they fell into the playfulness, "I think I've always been pretty creative, Natasha. I'm sure I can think of something."

Natasha hovered over his pulse point, sucking softly beneath his beard. Her hands pressed into his back, "I always liked it when you made good use of our time, Steve." The flirtation and desire were there, growing right along with the trust and love between them as they'd reconnected over the last several weeks.

But just like at Quantico, Steve didn't want them to rush.

They had rushed on their stolen weekends over the last seven years, and this...was different. Plus, there was also the part of Steve that was being over-protective to an insane extent almost, because he was so concerned with Natasha becoming stronger and healthier on all fronts. Natasha lifted her knee that was resting between his thighs. Testing the waters, she slid upwards, and the bubble burst.

Steve tightened his legs around her, and drew her hands in between their chests as he pulled away from her kisses on his neck. She smiled as his arms stilled her, "Was I getting too creative, Steve?"

Steve blew out a breath and kissed her forehead, before finding her lips with his, "I think...it's a hell of a way to wake up, but I just want to hold you for a little while, okay?" She rolled her eyes and laughed as she climbed over his side. Natasha pulled him to the edge of the bed as she stood up, "Well then come on, Soldier. If all you're trying to do is cuddle, then I'm going to call your bluff, since you're being absolutely no fun, creatively speaking. Let's wake up. I want to actually burn some energy."

Two hours later, after a sparring match and a tiring weights and cardio routine, Natasha had just voiced her discomfort while stretching.

"Ouch."

"Nat, what is it?"

She shook her head in her T-shirt and leggings, with Steve's Army chain resting around her neck, as Steve asked what was wrong. "Nothing, I'm fine. It's just…It's my shoulder still acting up. Laura has me doing these stretches, but sometimes…especially in the mornings, it's just hard to loosen it up."

She felt his presence as he came to stand right behind her, "Here, let me help you." Natasha tried to turn around, but Steve stopped her with his palms on her shoulders, "Shh. Just stand still, Nat…and breathe." She did breathe and closed her eyes, feeling the warmth inside as he started rubbing her shoulders. Slow, circular motions followed, "Just tell me if I'm hurting you, okay?"

"You're not hurting me, Steve. It's only the one shoulder that was bothering me though."

"Do you want me to stop?"

The flirtation was familiar, buzzing between them and their words. If anything, the air felt even thicker this morning, after the heartfelt exchange of forgiveness the night before.

Falling in love again. Working out early. Trying not to give into the temptation as tension surrounded them. Yes, Sam and Tony and Bucky were right. Some things were very similar to how they used to be.

Steve could tell Natasha was blushing by the way her head bowed, "No Steve, I don't want you to stop."

Fingers kneading in generous rotations, prodding deep into her triceps. Energy shifting from their workout to cooldown, and now to this. Her neck rolling back and forth with his massaging.

Steve soaked it all in.

The coil in her tendons. Each ripple in her muscles. And every breath of hers beneath his fingers. Steve watched the beads of sweat and damp tendrils of hair at the nape of her neck, feeling even closer to Natasha than their proximity portrayed.

Steve finally heard a sigh of relief as a little tightness relented in Natasha's shoulder. His hands ran down her arms as he crowded in towards her. Entangling their fingers, he pulled her arms up, as their hands reached toward the ceiling, "Still feeling okay with this?"

Natasha let out a breathless laugh as she felt a little of that creativity Steve had promised earlier, creep into this moment, "Yeah, I'm feeling okay, Steve…more than okay." She couldn't see it, but she could sense it. Steve was blushing too as he whispered in her ear, "I think I know the stretch, so just tell me if I'm doing something wrong."

Steve brought her hands down and crossed both of their arms in front of her chest. He encircled Natasha's frame, holding both of her hands in his. And as he started pulling in the opposite direction, they both felt the strain in her shoulders.

The air felt warmer around them as another sigh came out, "Right there, Steve. It hurts a little still, but it's better than before. Keep going." Steve surrounded her completely with her back pressed against his chest and her behind rubbing against his thighs. Each puff of air from his nose hit her neck, as goosebumps followed. And his spine was tingling the entire time. Steve pulled tighter, causing her shoulder to stretch even further.

Natasha dug her feet into the mat they stood on, to push against his body a little more, "Mmm, yes Steve. That feels so good." Steve couldn't help but smile against her neck, "I think you know exactly what you're doing, Nat. I feel like we're at Quantico all over again, right before we went to the lake."

Natasha smiled, "Maybe that's not a bad thing. That was a pretty good weekend." His fingers pulled around her a little more until Steve finally felt the tension and knots release in his grasp. He let up, but never let go, "There you go, Nat. Just breathe and feel those muscles loosen up. I got you."

Another sigh as she relaxed against him. He kissed the side of her head as he released her arms and turned her around, "How's it feel now?" Natasha batted her lashes slowly and looked up into his eyes, "Better. Much better, Steve."

Steve nodded along, and let the thoughts of what the day held pierce their heated bubble, "You ready to go shower and get ready for the day? Bruce said we can use the small, private room on this floor. It'll be quiet because everyone else will be downstairs working or upstairs in their rooms. He was able to get the room ready yesterday to..." Steve paused as worry filled his face before he went on, "Natasha, are you sure?"

She rolled her neck back and forth again, feeling the ease in her muscles even more, "Yeah Steve. It's time. Remember, you'll be there the entire time too. I need to do this." Steve sighed but nodded his head. He trusted her and knew she was strong enough. But it didn't mean he could just stop himself from worrying. "Okay, you go shower first. I'll go get us some coffee downstairs and bring it up to the room."

She smiled and went upstairs as Steve went down to get their fuel for the day. And they both began mentally preparing for what Natasha was going to do this morning - go under hypnosis with the help of Bruce, to try and find out whatever she was convinced was hidden inside her memories.

12 Years Ago –

"Wow, this room smells like despair," Tony laughed.

He stood in the doorway to Sam, Bucky, and Steve's dorm room. Loki stood right next to him, snickering just as hard, "Yes, despair. And cigarette smoke. And sweat. And alcohol. What's the plan here, Stark?"

"To make Steve wake up with the hangover of a lifetime. And to continue one hell of a night."

Loki grinned. Steve was shirtless, with half of his body hanging off the bed. Natasha's feet were draped over his neck and chest, because she was sleeping at the opposite end, snoring with her face smooshed against the wall. Wanda was passed out in Sam's bed, and Sam in Bucky's. And Bucky? He was sprawled out with limbs everywhere, snoring even louder than Natasha, right in the middle of their dormitory floor. "You know, Tony…We already managed to get Rogers more drunk last night, than he's probably been in his entire lifetime. Shouldn't we just let him be?"

Tony smacked Loki on the back of the head, "Quit being soft just because Rogers is shirtless, Loki. Last night was hilarious. We finally got Steve to loosen up, so let's let him wake up in the same manner…" Loki rolled his eyes, "Yeah, or wake up with him throwing his fist in our faces. I don't know why I listen to you."

"Listen to me? Loki, you're the one who somehow found absinthe in the bar last night. How in the hell did you do that? Do you have magical ties to the underworld or something?"

Loki tried to keep his laughing down, because Sam was stirring in Bucky's bed, but he stopped and rolled right into the wall and was fast asleep still, "What can I say? I can just recognize people who might have a darker side to them. Thank god I do because that absinthe helped knock Mr. Perfect on his pretty and perfect ass. You can't argue that he finally let down his guard and had a great time with all of us."

Tony and Loki had a mischievous glint in their eyes as they looked at each other, recalling the events from the night before.

The truth was, everyone had a great night. Everyone.

And the other truth, was that the term 'night before' was pretty loose. It wasn't even really morning yet. It was 5:30 am. They'd only returned from a local dive bar called, 'Logan's,' a few hours ago. And Tony and Loki? They would definitely still be categorized as inebriated if they had to take a breathalyzer. They fell asleep in the lounge, after everyone else had passed out, and had just woken up 20 minutes ago, as a little of their drunken stupor wore off.

Tony had the great idea (alcohol induced idea,) to keep the fun going. Loki of course, agreed (alcohol induced agreement,) as the two men (boys) went to their own dorm rooms and retrieved shaving cream and some Vaseline. "I don't even want to know why you have a giant tub of Vaseline, Loki." Tony scoffed.

Steve groaned loudly as the two men froze in the doorway. But it was a false alarm. Natasha had accidentally kicked him in the face as she rolled over, with her face now draped in between his legs, "Hey Stark, with how Steve and Romanoff are laying, it's almost like they're in the 69 position."

"Are you a juvenile? I've already walked in on them without clothes on. Don't put that image in my head again," Tony laughed but stopped, because Maria's voice came from behind, "Oh my god, I need Tylenol. Now. Tony? Loki? What are you guys doing?"

They turned around, like they'd been caught red-handed, but chuckled under their breaths. She took in the site of them, completely disheveled with wrinkled clothing, mussed up hair, and sleep in her eyes. Then she looked down at their hands and saw all the makings of soon to be pranks. And she got the same alcohol induced glimmer in her own eyes, "I want in. Let's make last night live in infamy."

"Shots. Shots. Shots."

Rhodey and Thor and even Bruce, joined the group's chants as they arrived at a hole in the wall bar named Logan's. It was Friday night.

The mole mission had officially ended earlier that day. And the entire group left Fury's lecture, after he let them all know they'd failed miserably. So, they found themselves sitting in the dormitory lounge, all feeling like shit.

It only took them 15 minutes of sitting around in that lounge, to decide the best way to ease their egos being squashed to pieces, was to get absolutely shit faced that evening.

Tony stood up, "Look, we can sit around here, thinking about how pretty much all of us did something wrong with the stupid mole test. We can mope around, thinking about how we don't know where any of us are going to be placed in three weeks when this all ends."

Stark's voice had that edge in it, letting the group know he had no intention of doing what he was pretending to suggest, as Loki stood up by him and grinned, "Or…we can live it up. We can forget all of our stupidity. We can forget how Steve was once again right, and none of us listened. We can forget how Wanda had us all duped…you're a sexy little minx when you want to be, you know that, Maximoff?"

Wanda blushed as Bucky scoffed at Loki's words.

Everyone was hesitating. Especially Steve. Everyone except Maria. She went and stood by Tony and Loki, "You know what? I can't believe I'm actually agreeing with you guys. Fury gave us the weekend off. And all we're doing is hanging our heads, because we were all so competitive and stupid over the last three weeks. I think burning off some steam, and drinking a hell of a lot of liquor sounds like the best idea. Who's in?"

It only took a couple more minutes for everyone to stand up to start planning where they were going to drink at. Everyone except Steve and Natasha. They were hanging their heads even lower because of what Natasha had done, and what Steve had helped her hide and destroy with the USB drive of files.

But they didn't get very long to think of an excuse to try and stay back, because Wanda and Maria were coming over and pulling Natasha up, away from Steve.

"Don't even think about it, Natasha. You're coming with us," Wanda said as Maria added, "We're not taking no for an answer. It's going to be the best thing for all of us. We may not deserve it, but we sure as hell need it tonight."

Natasha looked back to Steve as he raised his eyebrow at her, and she shrugged her shoulders. But he didn't have a moment to think either, because Sam and Bucky flanked him, and pulled him up under his arms, "Come on Rogers, no leading or thinking tonight. You need this more than all of us. And we all need it pretty damn bad," Sam started as Bucky laughed, "Yeah. Come on Steve, let's see if you can finally show the rest of them how much you can drink."

Steve stared at his brother and rolled his eyes, "I know what you're doing, Buck."

"What am I doing? I'm simply stating the fact that you've been letting everyone else here, show off their drunken behavior for almost five months now on our nights out, and you've just been playing it cool."

Tony jumped in, "Bucky, are you trying to tell me that your perfect Captain of a brother, can actually hold his liquor? That he has it in him to get wasted with his very near and dear friends and girlfriend?"

Tony was obviously egging Steve on too. And it was all in good fun. But the final nail in the coffin was Natasha coming over behind Steve and pushing him along now. Apparently, it only took her 30 seconds to be convinced that yes, a night of stupidity and letting loose was just what the doctor ordered, "Come on, Soldier. It'll be fun."

20 minutes later, they were all in jeans and sweatshirts and T-shirts, not caring at all what they looked like, and heading off to Logan's.

And 31 minutes later, they were inside the pub, yelling "Shots. Shots. Shots." As Tony got the first round. It was 7 pm, and he waved everyone's wallets off, "I think I was a big enough asshole over the last few weeks, that I owe you all several rounds tonight."

No one argued, and everyone took the shots of tequila in their hands with the lime in their others and raised their glasses.

"To three weeks left of Fury's mind games," Bruce said.

"To forgetting the last three weeks of stupidity," Rhodey added.

"To flowing liquor and loud music," Thor boomed.

"To fun and friends," Tony looked at Natasha. They had been the leaders over the last week, in the worst way. They'd acted ridiculous and in the most competitive ways, and they both knew it. Now here they were, realizing just how stupid they both had been.

Natasha laughed under her breath. How could anyone stay mad at Tony when he was charming, to a pushy and relentless extent with his disheveled hair, wide eyes, and open pocket book. Just wanting the people closest to him right now to have a great time.

She smiled back at Tony, and felt that need to have a great time even more so. Natasha nudged Steve in the shoulder as he turned and looked at her, loosening up a little more and he nudged right back. He clinked hers and everyone else's glasses.

Was he disappointed in her behavior over the last week? Yes.

But right now? Looking at her? How could Steve even think of staying mad at her with those green eyes and red hair that he loved so much.

"To family," Steve and Natasha said at the same time as the group all downed their first shot of the night and winced from the after taste as they sucked on the sour rinds.

"When was the last time you did tequila, Steve?" Steve looked down at her, "Probably last year in Afghanistan. It tastes just like I remember…"

Natasha pulled him down to whisper in his ear, "Maybe you can do a body shot off of me later." Steve jerked a little as he pulled away and looked down at her. His face reddened even more, both from her words and the alcohol, "Nat, I wanna have fun, but I don't want to get stupid tonight."

Famous last words.

Because Tony was already pulling Steve away, "Why the long face, Cap? You seem a little defensive. Everyone's here in this fine establishment, and finally on the same page."

Steve groaned, "Well, it's been a long day, and a long three weeks, Tony."

Tony smacked Steve on the shoulders, bringing him back to the bar as he ordered five pitchers of beer, and told the bartender, Logan, to keep his tab open all night for whatever anyone wanted in their group. The man with scruffy sideburns, unruly hair, and eyes that said, 'Don't fucking talk to me,' muttered under his breath. Logan stuck a cigar in his mouth and got the drinks ready as Tony called for two shots of whiskey too.

A minute later, Tony handed one to Steve and took the other, "Come on, Rogers. One night, let's just say fuck it. Fuck the exercising and the tests and the unknown questions of tomorrow. You always come out with us and have a good time, but I want to see you finally let loose."

There was just...something about Tony's charm in moments like these. Steve chuckled, "You know, Tony. You can be really convincing and a great leader when you want to be. Dangerously convincing." Tony tapped his glass next to Steve's as they lifted them to their lips, "Does that mean you're convinced, Rogers?" Steve arched an eyebrow, "I guess you'll have to wait and see." He threw back his shot and grabbed a few pitchers of beer to take over to everyone as Tony grabbed the rest.

15 minutes later, Maria and Sam were picking out music on the jukebox. "Maria, no. Hell no, we don't need to listen to…" But before he could stop her, Rod Stewart was blaring over the speakers as Maria sang loudly to him, "Wake up, Maggie, I think I got something to say to you…"

"What's going on with Maria and Sam?" Wanda pointed with her beer in hand as she talked to Natasha. Bucky came up and grabbed Wanda from behind, "Those two are the biggest flirts, but won't ever commit to actually trying something."

Wanda pulled Bucky toward the dancefloor as Journey's Faithfully was playing loudly now, "Someone else was a flirt once too, and you came around, James." Bucky turned around and shrugged at Natasha, happily being pulled along, "Well, that's me. And of course I came around for you, Babe. But you were the one who finally give me a chance. And now I'm your personal flirt, always at your beck and call."

30 minutes later, and another round of pitchers were gone. Early buzzes were turning into officially feeling good and warm, as laughter filled the air. Sam got ahold of the music finally, and played Marvin Gaye. Tony and Natasha had officially made up and hugged, and then immediately challenged each other to a chugging contest. Natasha won of course, but Tony just laughed.

Egos had for once, been checked at the door of Logan's fine establishment.

Bruce and Loki got behind the bar, both claiming they knew how to make the perfect Long Island Iced Tea. Bucky and Wanda left the dance floor and were actually making out in the back corner of the bar, thinking they were completely isolated (they weren't.)

And Steve?

Well Rhodey, was saddled up to a small table with Steve and Thor. Thor had claimed, "Your biceps are nice, Rogers. But they're no comparison to mine. I'm genetically blessed, coming from my family of fighters." Steve...had started to officially loosen up.

Steve laughed at Thor, "I'm from Brooklyn, Thor. Don't make claims you can't back up with proof."

Rhodey saw the opportunity, "Put your money where your mouth is boys. Let's arm wrestle!"

The entire bar was theirs except for Logan and a few locals who completely ignored the group's shenanigans. Steve and Thor agreed, and soon found themselves arm wrestling two minutes later after Rhodey gave them the go sign and declared himself as the judge. All of their friends cheered them on.

"Give him hell, Cap," Sam yelled.

"Come on, Point Break. Beat Rogers for all of us!" Tony shouted.

Grunting and wincing, cheering friends and drinks sloshing. Muscles rippling under both men's T-shirts.

The testosterone and competitiveness on display was a sight to behold.

Thor won the first match, and Steve was exuding masculinity that Natasha wasn't used to. She may not have been used to it...but she liked what she saw.

Steve demanded a second match as he flexed his arms and took another shot. Loki and Tony looked like they were in heaven, watching their fearless moral leader finally unwind. Loki had somehow procured his small bottle of absinthe at this point, and tried to give it to Steve, "Rogers, this will surely help you with that burly oaf." Steve waved him off at first.

The second match had money changing hands now, as their friends were betting on them. Wanda and Bucky emerged from the corner with wild and tangled hair and red lips as Sam gave them a knowing nod. And three minutes later, after a little sweat appeared at the base of Steve's neck, and a vein emerged in his throat, he was the victor.

Thor slammed his hands on the table, "Best of three. Best out of three, right? A true victory cannot be claimed until the battle is officially won." Apparently, Thor's verbiage became something from the days of yore, with the more liquor he took in. Another round of shots were drank between the two men with bulging biceps, and Rhodey yelled, "Go!"

Steve's face was red. Thor's brow was sweaty. AC/DC's music was loud as everyone fell into drunken buffoonery. The few locals left the pub now, leaving Logan's officially to the 11 friends.

Steve looked like he could burst out of his T-shirt, and Thor looked like he was going to bust the small wooden table. After four minutes of sighing and straining and grunting and growling, Steve won, but looked like he'd just run a marathon.

Tony grabbed the small bottle of absinthe from Loki and poured it in the Long Island Iced Tea that Bruce handed to him. Tony gave it to Steve, congratulating him on the victory. The sweet and sour concoction tasted delicious with all the blended liquors as he guzzled it down, absinthe and all.

And Natasha stood behind Steve, watching the sweat trickle along his neck. She took in his poor shirt, which looked like it wanted to pack up and leave with what he'd put it through over the last half hour. She stared at his strong hands and the liquid on his lips as her thoughts dove as far into the gutter as imaginable.

"Nat! Did you see? I won, Baby!"

That was the first real sign that Steve Rogers was well on his way to getting wasted tonight.

Natasha quirked her eyebrow, "Baby?" She heard his accent and the signs of Brooklyn shine through his voice as he grabbed her waist and lowered his lips to her ear, "Would you rather me call you, Darling? Or Honey? Or how about, Suga?"

She couldn't help but laugh as Tony was passing out another round of shots to everyone, "Suga? I don't think I've ever heard you say that word since I've known you, Steve Rogers. And if you have, you certainly didn't say it like you were part of the Dodgers' baseball team from the 40's."

Steve pulled away from her ear to stare as his fingers tightened around her hip, "Do you know how sexy it is, that you just referenced Dodgers baseball, Nat?"

She felt warm before, watching his testosterone take hold from his match with Thor. That feeling was back now, even stronger, with his hand on her hip and his smoldering stare. They'd been at the bar for a couple of hours, and had drank enough to make someone think they'd been there all day and night.

"Probably as sexy as watching your arms try to find a release from your T-shirt before, Soldier."

Before they could continue their flirting...bordering on obscenity...with the looks they were giving, Wanda and Maria were pulling Natasha onto the dancefloor. Thor came over and picked up Steve from behind, "Good match, my friend. Good match. You are much stronger than you look!" Thor put him down as both men clutched their chests and burst out laughing like a couple of toddlers.

That was pretty much the last thing that Steve remembered clearly from the evening, as the absinthe fully kicked in, and as he watched his beautiful red-headed girlfriend dance with her friends.

Flashes of Thor and Rhodey and Bruce taking their shirts off, with Maria and Sam and Loki dancing on the bar an hour later would linger. Snippets of Wanda pulling Bucky outside, to do god knows what, were there. Just as flickers of Natasha yanking Steve onto the small dancefloor an hour later remained.

But it was all fuzzy.

If he would have remembered clearly, he would have seen Natasha bring two more shots of tequila with her, "Let's spice up the Cuervo this time, Rogers." She dabbled a little liquor on her neck and then licked his own.

Sprinkled salt on wet skin followed. Natasha licked Steve first, lapping up each grain of salt. She downed the shot before shoving the lime into his mouth backwards, and sucked it dry between their lips.

Steve groaned and didn't wait. He licked her neck clean of the liquor, but then pulled the dip in Natasha's T-shirt down farther.

His tongue trailing along her cleavage. Salt being soaked up. A shot hitting the back of his throat. And Steve's own lime drained of its juices, between Natasha's plump lips. It all followed the absinthe, and he would have remembered each delicious drop if he wasn't already three sheets to the wind.

And then, Steve would have seen there was no space between them anymore with their lewd dancing, as Natasha grinded her ass into his groin while Def Leppard blared. He would have remembered groping and making out with her in an obscene manner, not caring who saw.

And no one did care, because everyone was feeling more than pretty good at that hour. Tony had appeased Logan with a five-thousand-dollar tip for the evening. To which the gruff man responded by pretty much turning the keys over to Tony as he went to his office, grumbling with his cigar, "Fucking kids." But he didn't let anyone else inside the bar that night either.

Well past midnight, Loki lit some shots on fire and Natasha and Tony were making up and apologizing to each other again, for being asses during the mole test. And Steve took in the sight of them making up, realizing this was the best group of friends he could imagine and wobbled as he stood up on a chair, "Three weeeeks, Guys. Threee weeks left, everyonee!"

Natasha went over to stand on a chair right at his side to help support him. Tony and Loki high fived each other in the background, congratulating themselves on a successful night of unleashing Steve Rogers (and everyone else in the process).

Natasha tried to help Steve keep his balance, even though she wasn't the most stable either. But they kept standing as the music roared and their friends cheered in a flurry of words, "Three weeks...No more fighting...Let's make the most of it!"

Everyone cheered as Steve jumped down and Natasha jumped right into his arms. The only reason they didn't fall is because Thor and Sam were there to keep them upright as they all laughed.

Somehow at that moment, the idea was born for them to return to Quantico and play tag...to 'prepare themselves for Hogan's Alley.' Which of course sounded like the best idea ever, seven hours into drinking.

Why wouldn't it?

By the time they did return to Quantico, it was almost 2 AM. Rhodey and Bruce were puking. And the nine other friends thought they were playing a game of tag, to work on their teamwork for the last actual exercise, coming up in a couple of weeks.

What they thought...and what it actually looked like, were two very different pictures. They thought they looked like a black ops team in the middle of the night, swooping in and out undetected, to recover a hostage. What they actually looked like, was more akin to a litter of newborn puppies flopping around on a wooden floor, not being able to see straight or stay upright.

They were all hammered, but Steve was by far the most gone. When Natasha was 'It' in their game of drunken tag, he'd tackled her to the ground and started making out with her in the grass and suggested they have sex right there...not caring they were in front of everyone. She burst out laughing, "Okay Soldier, time to get you to bed. You're not going to remember any of this tomorrow."

Sam and Thor needed help themselves, but somehow found a way to help Steve up the stairs and into his bedroom. Natasha was close behind them as Sam groaned, "You're a lot heavier than you look, Cap."

Steve lifted his head and slurred, "I had a big breakfast, Sammy." He collapsed on the floor as Wanda fell into Sam's bed. Thor and everyone else left the five of them. And Tony and Loki went to the lounge, eating cheeseburgers they somehow found, and were laughing their asses off the entire way.

Steve tried to drink a glass of water that Natasha gave him, but he spilled it all over his shirt. By the time he'd taken the soaked tee off and crawled into his twin bed, Natasha was passed out at the opposite end, with her face pressed against the wall.

Steve hugged Natasha's feet as Bucky muttered, "Punk," before he fell asleep on the floor where Steve just was. Sam looked around at his friends and roommates, "Man, we're gonna pay for this tomorrow, but it sure was worth it." And he crawled over to Bucky's bed and passed out too.

So, several hours later, as the first layer of alcohol had buzzed through their system and wore off, Loki, Tony, and Maria were awake. Still more than half-drunk, they looked at the five people passed out and couldn't help themselves.

Maria coated Sam's hands and the doorknob with Vaseline. Tony stuck Bucky's hand in warm water, realizing the likelihood of him peeing himself would be high. And Loki ogled Steve's shirtless body, as he tickled his nose with a feather after filling his hands with shaving cream. Five minutes later, Steve was covered in white fluff, Bucky's pants were soaked, and Sam's ankles were tied while his hands were covered in Vaseline. They decided to leave the women alone before Tony pulled the final prank from his bag. A megaphone that he'd managed to procure from Fury's office.

Tony winked at Loki and Maria before he turned the megaphone on, "Wakey, wakey, Asshats! Time for that morning run, Rogers! No time for slacking, now that we're so close to the finish line!"

Sam shot up and rolled out of bed right away, "What the hell?" Bucky sprang up, instantly feeling his headache and noticing his wet pants and then looked at Tony and Loki and Maria, "You fuckers are dead."

And Natasha sprang away from Steve, shoving him right out of bed and onto the floor, on top of his brother. Two birds, one stone. Bucky was now covered in shaving cream too. Wanda and Natasha blinked heavily, looking at each other's drunken and hangover filled states. They groaned, feeling the pounding in their heads as the three pranksters snickered and shut the door.

Sam tried to stand up but tripped over his bound feet and smacked Bucky in the face with his Vaseline covered hands. Two birds, one stone. Bucky was now covered in Vaseline too. The three men were dogpiled on top of each other, as Bucky and Sam sort of slithered their way to the door. They couldn't get a grip on the greasy doorknob as they heard Loki and Maria and Tony howling in laughter outside.

And Steve looked up at Natasha, as his mouth started watering and his body became burning hot. He looked green in the gills and shot up quicker than lightning as he hopped over his brother and Sam. He used his shirt on the ground to grip the handle and open the door. Tony had this worried expression on his face that Steve was going to punch him, but he didn't.

Instead, Steve burst past Tony and sprinted to the bathroom to puke his guts out. Natasha and Wanda laid back down, not even being able to think right now. They knew they were all in for a world of hurt that day, with Steve leading the way. And Steve...crawled back into bed, this time cuddling with Natasha face-to-face at the foot of his mattress. He'd washed his head and face and mouth after throwing up. And he wiped his chest down before throwing on a fresh T-shirt.

Steve tucked her into his arms, as they heard Bucky and Sam finally stand up to chase after Loki, Tony, and Maria. Natasha was whispering something about Steve still calling her, "Suga." And he mumbled, "No talking. Everything hurts."

But it was worth it.

In three weeks, their lives would change and none of them knew what lay ahead yet. So, even with the pranks and hangovers and debauchery, the night of care-free fun was more than worth it. It was a night the 11 of them would remember forever, even if some of them couldn't remember everything from it.

4 Years Ago – Russia

"Wake up, Soldier."

Steve heard the soothing sounds of her voice first, and then the brushes of her soft hair against his neck followed. He could smell the familiar scent of vanilla and cinnamon on her skin as her hand found his. He loved being overwhelmed by all of her, no matter what time of day it was. But in the mornings like this, it all felt so serene...like home. Keeping his eyes shut tight, he pulled her in a little closer, "Let's just stay here a little longer, Nat."

She chuckled, "Steve Rogers...Nap or sleep, it doesn't matter...You're the human snooze button." Steve could feel the tickling sensation from her lips as she went on, "Steve, we have to be at your mother's by 9 AM. I don't want Wanda and Bucky to beat us there today."

She could feel Steve grinning now as his fingers dug into her waist, "Well then, I guess we better get a move on…"

But he didn't move any other part of himself. Natasha pinched his side as she draped her leg over his waist and sat up, right on top of him in a compromising position. She knew what she was doing. And Steve couldn't resist opening his eyes now, as he peeked at her beaming down at him.

The morning sun was shining in the bedroom window, "I don't think this is really helping your case, Nat. I'm not feeling particularly motivated at the moment to go see my family...who we see all the time by the way."

Natasha was stretching her arms towards the ceiling, "Is that a fact?"

"Mmm hmm. Besides, there are so many more…interesting things that are inspiring me right now." Natasha smacked his chest lightly and leaned down to peck him on the lips, "I got a nice preview of that inspiration last night, Steve. And don't talk about something you know we can't finish right now."

Steve moved quickly, snatching her wrists before pinning them to her own waist under his fingers. He pressed firmly against them as he pulled her down onto his...excitement for her, in the early hours of the morning. A breath she was trying to hold in escaped at his rough tone, "Who said anything about not being able to finish something? I have every intention of seeing this whole thing through."

Natasha rolled her eyes, but stopped as he repeated the motion. Only this time, he lifted his own hips off the bed. Their bed...in their apartment.

"Steve," Natasha started. Her voice was a little less sure than it was 10 seconds ago, but she kept trying, "Come on. Clint is coming over today. You and Bucky promised you were going to try and get him into watching football with you this afternoon, while Wanda and I help your mom bake cookies for the fundraiser at her work."

Steve wouldn't stop moving though, "Nat…I love how much you love my brother and mom. And I love that Wanda and you are practically part of our family…You should be. We've been together for almost four years. And I love that Clint keeps getting closer to all of us."

His hands moved from her hips to her stomach, before travelling up her chest and skimming over her breasts. A soft little whimper came out, and his fingers finally grasped her neck as he pulled her down to meet his own lips. Steve knew what he was doing too, in this little morning wake-up dance. He pushed into her again, "But I swear, if you delay this any longer, and keep talking about James and Clint and every other person we know, you're going to ruin the mood."

Now Steve felt her lips turn upward as she caved and kissed him back, "You win this time, Steve. But make it quick. I meant what I said. I don't want to be late."

Steve jerked in his sleep, very much awake now as his eyes shot open. It wasn't their apartment. It wasn't four years into their relationship.

He was in Russia. In Natasha's safehouse.

The dream was just one moment in time. Just one of countless wake-ups in their life. Nothing special or spectacular. Just a memory, leading into a Sunday family day at Sarah's. One where Clint agreed to come. One that started off hot and heavy, with Steve and Natasha in bed, like so many other mornings…and nights…and times in between. One that ended up being a very lovely day full of laughter and family and 24 dozen chocolate chip cookies.

One that taunted Steve as he laid wide awake now.

It was early. It was dark out still, and Natasha was in his arms in a very different life. The memory was fresh in Steve's brain as he held her close against his chest.

Natasha wasn't asleep though.

She'd felt him shift and woke up right away too, "Nightmare or bad dream?" Her hands were around his waist as they tightened a little as he responded, "How about memories surfacing with bad timing?"

Talking about what Steve had dreamt of could lead to a very sticky conversation. Natasha had the same memories haunting her. It didn't matter whether it was that Sunday or a holiday, or a random Tuesday at the FBI that lingered. Any one of them could've led to an explosive fallout immediately, so they both steered clear from all of it.

Honestly, their thoughts were more consumed with what the day would bring now that they were awake.

Steve had felt it hours ago when he carried her to bed. He'd felt it ever since he first laid eyes on her at the Palace. What he felt, was the end approaching. This time between them was an anomaly. It was a moment that was stolen, and both of their realities were going to come calling with a force, pulling both Steve and Natasha back from this reprieve.

They were both exhausted from the journey through their long evening. Combine that with the memories that felt like a raw wound. Add to it, the avoidance of not wanting to deal with what would happen once they got out of bed.

Avoidance. Denial. It was really a mixture of both, that caused Steve to start battling the impending feeling inside.

Three years without her in his morning wake-up routine was too long. A single day used to be too long in their life together, before the yearning used to take hold. In some twisted way, Steve was still acting as that human snooze button as he shut his eyes and said something he really shouldn't have even been thinking, "What if I didn't go back, Natasha?"

Natasha shut her eyes, and fell into that desperation too as she inhaled every part of him she could. Holding on a little tighter, she responded with something she had no business pretending, "What if we went somewhere together, Steve? Where only the two of us existed?"

"I could build us a house, in some hidden woods somewhere by a river or lake."

Avoid. Avoid. Avoid.

A simple game of make believe, was harmless enough on the surface, right?

Steve knew this dangerous game was letting their hearts run wild for a minute. Before reality came calling. But he couldn't help it. The vivid memory of a random Sunday wake-up, mixed with what'd happened only a few hours ago in the bathroom...It all scrambled together and influenced any actual logic and reasoning.

It was like the only thing that could relax both of them right now, was leaning into this tempting 'What If,' scenario.

Natasha's words pulled him farther along, "I hope you don't think I'd be some stay at home housemaid, while your shirtless and building this secluded cabin in the woods for us, Rogers." Steve smiled against the crown of her head, "Course not. You've always been better with a knife than me, Romanoff. You'd be out hunting us dinner each day while I built us our shack. Wait, why am I automatically shirtless, Natasha?"

Playful and innocent. Until it wasn't.

It was a bad idea from the start, because it quickly turned serious.

Steve breathed in, like he was trying to memorize everything about her right now, "What if I was serious, Nat? What if you told me everything, you're being dishonest with me about, and we ran?"

And just like that, reality came calling.

"Steve."

He couldn't do this. Steve wasn't kidding when he'd told her the last three years were miserable without her. He was so angry at her, and in a way, he was even more angry at himself for being unable to move on. But after three years of trying, he'd ended up in Russia with her anyway. And there was part of him that really just wanted to say, 'to hell with everything,' right now.

Natasha knew this wasn't going to end well. She knew it last night, but god...the reminder of Steve and how good they felt together made her weak. So weak, that she caved the minute he'd followed her into the bathroom. Or the minute they pulled into the safehouse...or the minute he'd pulled her onto the dancefloor.

But Natasha knew the end was unavoidable. The point of bringing Steve here was too get him out of Russia safely. It was not to do something like run away together, only to have Ivan and Oksana hunt them down after whatever short period of time they could hide for.

The path with their little fantasy would surely end in both of their deaths.

Natasha pulled away and sat up in bed, "Steve, you don't belong in my world. Last night was a beautiful reminder of our five years together, but you don't belong here."

"Neither do you," Steve sat up too.

Natasha scoffed, "Steve, this is my world. Safehouses. Being on the run. Crime. Dark alleys, and secret conversations. This is my world. I was born into it, and you need to realize that I did get to run away. I got to run away with you for five years, but reality comes calling when you run. That's just how it is." She was trying to push him away again, "Our lives exist in two different realities."

His forehead creased, "You weren't born into it. You were forced into it. And our lives weren't in two different worlds, Natasha. You were in the FBI. We lived together, and you were a damn good agent. You're not pushing me away, and I'm not letting you go."

Steve sat at the edge of the bed now as Natasha stood up. She battled between the unspoken love she was feeling, and the pain and anger from their reality and his refusal to accept it. She leaned into the latter, "Steve you're not going to arrest me. I know that, and so do you."

Steve didn't know what would happen today, after he carried Natasha to bed last night. Logically, only a few options existed outside of running and arresting, but he refused to acknowledge that this might be it before they had to part ways.

So, he met her stubbornness and upped the ante. "I'm not going to arrest you, but that doesn't mean I'm not taking you with me." Steve stood up and went down the hallway to get the handcuffs. Their make-believe bubble sure had burst quickly. But what did they think was going to happen if no answers or resolutions were actually given?

It was a harsh wake-up call, that contrasted with chirping birds and soft colors appearing through the window as dawn approached. And right along with dawn, was the abrupt sound of a car door shutting. Steve didn't go to the counter to pick up the cuffs. He went to the window instead.

Yes, the harshness of their reality was here. Clint had arrived, but he wasn't in a car. He was in Steve's rented Lada Niva. "Son of a bitch," Steve was surprised as he said it, and Natasha shut her eyes. This was such a mess...Wake-up call or not. Right now, she wasn't going to talk, and Steve wasn't going to leave.

Clint came inside, and saw about 15 feet of space between Steve and Natasha, physically. He looked at the cuffs on the counter, saw the clothes they were wearing, and picked up on all the unspoken cues and energy in the room. It was all that was needed to see there was actually about a thousand feet separating them, emotionally.

Clint looked like he'd had a hell of an evening himself from the bags under his eyes and his mussed-up hair. He didn't need to know the specifics of what happened in the safehouse. He could tell. There'd been a hell of a lot of physical communicating between the two idiots in front of him, and not nearly enough actual talking.

Never one to sugar coat something that needed to be said, Clint blew out a breath, "Jesus Christ, Tasha. You really know how to throw all your sensibility out the window when it comes to Rogers. Did you guys manage to say anything to each other at all?"

Yes and no.

Steve was glaring at Natasha, not wanting to air their dirty laundry in front of Clint, but he was already at his breaking point and said fuck it, internally. "Yeah Clint, your sister over there gnawed my ear off with all her words of wisdom. I'm sure you have some great advice too, so let me sum up what she's already said. She chose to run and come back to this life…This life that has the two of you hiding out in a hole in the wall in the middle of Russia. I mean I can see why, with how great and accommodating this place is."

Clint raised his eyebrow at Steve's sarcasm as his voice got louder. But then Clint looked over at his sister, who'd once again, thrown all of her craft and skills out the window when Steve Rogers was involved. Hopeless lovers in love? Yes. Clint knew that and felt bad for both of them in a way. He liked Steve and had gotten close to him. If he was pressed a few years ago, he probably would've even said they were like family. And he was pissed off from leaving the life he started to enjoy too.

But that was in the past.

And Clint lived in harsh truths.

So, this? Right now? Clint rolled his eyes because Natasha was being stupid. And from his perspective, he could already tell that he was going to have to be the bad guy here. But Steve kept talking, "I don't suppose you're going to shed any light on either of your actions that would make any goddamn sense, are you Clint?"

Shit.

Clint blew out a breath, "Look Rogers, I don't think there's any answers to give you. This is a part of the world you don't belong in. You shouldn't be here in the first place. I'm sorry to sound that way. You're a good guy, but you need a serious wake-up call. I have your SUV outside that I was able to track down through the hotel. You already had it all packed up, so all your stuff's inside of it. You need to get in it and leave."

Steve's jaw clenched as he narrowed his eyes, "I'm getting real sick and tired of you both telling me where I should be, how I should feel, and what I should be doing…And all the while, you're both still lying to me. Natasha, I'm not leaving Russia without some answers. So, here's a wake-up call for you. I may not arrest you because you're right...I don't want to see you thrown into a black hole in the States. But it doesn't mean I'm going to stop...I'm not, until you tell me the truth. Why did you betray me? Why did you take those files and set those Russians free? The Natasha I knew would never…"

Steve stopped, overcome with emotions as he looked down. And Natasha held back her tears as she looked at Clint eyeing her, silently telling her she needed to nip this in the bud...really quick.

Natasha didn't want to do this. Everything that happened last night in the bathroom was incredible, but it was stolen. She was right last night. Now wasn't their time. If she was going to right any of her wrongs, she had to make sure Steve was safe. And he wasn't going to leave here without a push.

"Steve, Clint and I chose to come back to this life. You need to leave it at that. Just because you don't like what you hear, doesn't mean it's not true. Last night didn't change anything."

It was like she had slapped Steve. She didn't want to leave him. But running or staying here with him? It wasn't possible. Not now. Not on a whim like this. Not while Ivan and Oksana's suspicions were high from the abrupt end to the Gala last night.

Three years of following every order of theirs didn't make a difference if they smelled blood in the water. And Natasha knew if they even had a whiff of deception, or of Steve being over here, they were as good as gone.

That seed...her wanting to course correct, had officially started to grow inside Natasha as she thought again, 'I have to make things right. I have to take Ivan and Oksana down.'

Clint went to make some coffee in the kitchen, and looked at his sister, reminding her again with his stare alone, that she needed to get moving. They were on a tight schedule.

Natasha took a deep breath and ignored the way Steve was glaring at her now, as she went back to the bedroom to start changing into something to be able to leave in. And Steve quickly followed. He slammed the door shut behind him, "If you think you're going to just run out on me after last night…"

Rinse. Wash. Repeat.

"Damn it, Steve. You're not supposed to be here. I can't do this right now. You need to go home." Steve walked up behind Natasha and grabbed her arm to pull her towards him, "And you need to stop lying to me."

They stood like that for a good five seconds before Natasha tried to move, but Steve wouldn't let her go. His voice was riddled with anger, "No. Quit riding this line of telling me you still mean everything in that note without giving me any answers. You let down your walls last night for a little bit. I felt it. You're not telling me something. So, quit lying to me."

Natasha shut her eyes and took a breath, "I wasn't lying when I told you I still meant it. And I wasn't lying when I told you there are no answers for your questions now. Two things can be true at once, Steve. You're going to have to figure out a way to accept that."

"What a load of bull."

They were right back in their standoff, headed for a blowout as they heard a loud noise from the kitchen and jumped. Steve tried to protect Natasha by stepping in front of her, and Natasha did the same exact thing, stepping in front of him. They ended up moving right into each other.

"Stay here, Natasha."

"Stay here, Steve."

Their voices came out simultaneously as she rolled her eyes, and he huffed out a breath. They opened the door to the short hallway as Natasha made her way to the kitchen first, "Clint?"

Clint was there and was standing against the sink with his hands in the air. And one of Oksana and Ivan's goons was pointing a gun directly at him from the doorway to the outside.

Natasha's stomach immediately dropped, "Alexi, what are you doing here?"

It was too late for Steve to hide. He was right behind Natasha, and Alexi saw him right away.

There was a glint in his eye as he sneered in his thick Russian accent, "The prodigal daughter returned, promising loyalty by doing Ivan and Oksana's bidding for three years. Yet I find you here, Yelena. How curious."

Alexi, along with Rumlow and Rollins, were raised by their handlers since childhood with Clint and Natasha. Natasha was always the most gifted, and the fact that she'd come back, had only angered the people who never left...like Alexi. He and Rumlow in particular, had it out for Natasha in a worse way than most of their peers...if you could call them that.

Yes, she was naturally the most gifted. She was smarter, and a better spy than them to an infuriating extent. But they'd never trusted her. So, the fact that Alexi caught her red handed right now, was pretty much one of the worst things that could've happened. And it's exactly what Natasha feared because now Steve was in danger.

Steve didn't know who the man was exactly, besides one of their handlers' cretins who'd been running around Red Square last night. But what he did know, was that he fucking hated how he was staring at Natasha...Like she was a deer in the site of a hunting rifle. Steve stepped forward but Alexi continued.

"Now the question is, where are you exactly? You must have been awfully worried to have not made sure I went in the same direction as Rumlow and Rollins, Clint. It's not like you, to make even the slightest mistake. I knew it had something to do with your sister when I was able to follow you, and you didn't notice right away. So, I stayed quiet. And low and behold, I find you here too, Natasha. With your former lover."

Steve's eyes shifted to Natasha who was panicking right now. Her eyes darted between Clint, the gun, and Steve repeatedly, as the nervous tension became palpable.

"Alexi…"

Natasha was cut off by him as he shifted and pointed the gun at Steve now. "No!" Natasha yelled as he gave a toothy grin, "Interesting, Yelena. Maybe I should test you, just like all of our tests to prove our loyalty. Loyalty...you know what that is, right? Maybe I should make you choose…"

Natasha was frantic in her breathing looking back and forth at Clint and Steve, and taking in her surroundings, trying to strategize as Alexi shifted the barrel of the gun between the two men.

"What is our little Yelena...Our gifted little Yelena, that has always shined like the rising sun with her talents...What is she doing? No matter how many times she spits in the face of Mother Russia. No matter how many times she has shown her traitorous colors...What is our little Yelena doing here, in a hidden house that no one knows about, sneaking around with her brother and her perfect Captain?"

Steve was counting the seconds it would take to reach him. Clint was trying to locate a knife within reach. Natasha was keeping her eyes on the gun. Always on the gun, "Alexi, let me explain."

God, it sounded as unconvincing as could be. And Alexi's tone darkened, "No. Quiet, you traitorous whore. You don't say a single word with that serpent tongue of yours. The next word out of your mouth will be your choice on who lives and who dies. Or they both will die. So you choose. The Captain or Clint. One word from our great savior, to save the man you need most."

"Stop it, Alexi. Shut up. I think we both know there is one of two ways this ends. You made that clear the minute you came in here and drew your gun on my brother."

Heavy breathing was heard as the nervous feeling in the air began to suffocate. "You won't choose one to live? How selfish of you. You've sealed the fate of both men in your life, Natasha." Alexi shifted again, with the gun now directed at Steve, and Natasha's heart was pounding loud enough that she felt it in her ears.

But the three of them were able to communicate some sort of jumbled plan between each other as Steve stared at Clint and then the coffee mug.

"Hey Alexi...want a cup of coffee, you asshole?"

Clint threw the cup of burning liquid at the Russian's head. He had absolutely perfect aim as the mug made contact with a thud against his cheek just as Alexi turned. The scalding liquid poured into his eyes as Steve instantly charged at him, snapping his wrist back hard enough to hear it break as the gun fell to the ground.

Adrenaline was pumping as Alexi screamed.

Steve was about to yell to get the handcuffs, but he didn't get the chance. Because Natasha bolted forward into a handstand, and her body did the rest. In a flurry of movements, her feet wrapped around Alexi's neck, yanking his body to the ground with a thud.

Alexi groaned loudly from the impact, and her feet remained around his neck as she landed on her side right by him. With her head by his knees, and her feet secured around his neck, Natasha didn't wait a second, "You remember, you started this when you stuck your nose where it didn't belong. You want me to make a choice? You die, Alexi. That's my choice."

Natasha flexed her muscular thighs, and her hips contorted with a powerful thrust that rippled down her body. Feet twisted around his neck like a vice. A forceful crack followed. And he was dead.

As quick as it took Natasha and Steve to walk from the bedroom to the kitchen, Alexi was dead.

The mess had just gotten exponentially worse as Alexi's dead body lay in the middle of the space between the tiny kitchen and the tiny living room and the tiny hallway.

It all made the small house seem even more...tiny.

Clint and Natasha knew within the blink of an eye, as soon as Alexi found his way into the house, that there was no other end for him that could be allowed. This wasn't a court of law. This wasn't a normal life, and they didn't play by normal rules.

This was their life in a kill or be killed world, and Alexi 100 percent would have ratted them out, setting up all of their demises instantaneously after he'd had his fun. Natasha was asked to make a choice. And she did. If she didn't do it, Clint would have.

Steve would've killed him, if he found himself defending either of them from Alexi. But this was a step beyond that, as she fell into the rhythm of her life. Natasha knew the world she lived in required sacrifices of all kinds. She wasn't going to wait and see if Alexi was going to pull the trigger or not. Or worse...to see if he was going to run off and sound the alarms, turning their mess of a situation into something they couldn't clean up.

No.

Natasha wouldn't let it get to that point. She couldn't. It would be the death nail for all three of them. And before she could look at the expression on Steve's face, muscle memory and routine took over, "Clint, go outside right now and check this asshole's car to see if he has any transmitting signals or GPS communication anywhere. With any stroke of luck, he didn't and we just have to deal with him."

Clint picked the gun up from the floor and was out of the house in a second as Natasha got to work. She started patting Alexi's body down, trying to locate his phone. She pulled his wallet from him, and a lighter, a pack of cigarettes, and his car keys. "You son of a bitch, where's your goddamn phone?" Natasha groaned as she talked to herself, reaching underneath to check his back pockets in his jeans now.

And Steve?

Steve felt like he'd fallen. No, like he was falling, farther and farther down that rabbit hole he'd jumped into, when he first started learning about Natasha's life back at Quantico. Part of him felt like he could be sick with what just happened. He'd seen women and children murdered brutally in front of his eyes overseas at war. He'd killed men. Many men. He'd seen Natasha shoot and kill people in the field at the FBI. He'd had missions that'd gone awry in the FBI that ended in brutal violence and near misses that scared the shit out of him. One in particular had scared him to his core that involved the woman below him...That prompted him to give her a journal and start planning a proposal that would never come.

How truly long ago that seemed right now, with Natasha rummaging through the man's body who she'd just killed.

But this? This was different.

This was Steve's first real glimpse. His first-glance into the actual world that Natasha lived in. Kill or be killed. And Natasha just killed this man before his eyes, in a heartbeat without a second thought. It wasn't a question of whether it was justifiable or not. It was that right now, Steve found himself right inside the underbelly of society, realizing just how different it was from the world he'd left.

This was the life of the criminals he arrested and how they survived day to day. There were no rules of engagement guiding their way. There were no laws and norms restricting them and telling them when it was okay to shoot and not shoot. It was his first glance, realizing first hand all the horrors that Natasha had told him about from her childhood. And they were so much more horrifying in person. Steve thought of all of the tests she'd told him about, and saw that fierce warrior they'd created over the years, in action right now. She snapped Alexi's neck without a second thought because she knew she had to.

There wasn't a choice. If she left him alive, they'd all be dead. If not today, soon.

He wasn't feeling dizzy because he saw Natasha in a negative light. No. Quite the contrary. Steve was dumbfounded at her strength for the millionth time in his life. He was amazed at her resolve. Despite everything she'd been through, she was still the woman he was hopelessly in love with. The woman that had left him that note. She was still the woman in her heart, that was with him last night.

Hearing and learning about this world, from dealing with criminals and knowing Natasha was one thing. But seeing and experiencing it, was an entirely different...reality. And Steve was feeling nauseous at the sickening existence and the unfairness at it all.

Natasha's voice broke through though, "Steve."

He looked down at her, and for a second there was a glimpse of worry in her eyes, like she was nervous about what he was thinking. But Natasha didn't have time to delve into that right now. Instead, she kept going, "Steve, hold him on his side, I need to find his phone, and part of his jacket is tucked under his body. I can't reach it on my own."

He nodded and farther down the rabbit hole he went.

He was helping Natasha hold up a dead body, so she could go through the motions...of god knows what came next.

Steve would find himself very much emerged in the dark side of the internet and society, over the course of the next two years. He would break all sorts of rules and laws in four years from now, pulling her from this exact life by saving her.

But right now, he was at the beginning, and it was really fucking hard to comprehend anything clearly.

Steve came to Russia to find Natasha and bring her back to America. Steve had come to Russia and found her, but also found himself quickly immersed in her world. And honestly? He was scared to death for her and him and Clint right now as his mind started reeling.

"Got it."

Natasha went to the settings to turn off the GPS and network immediately on the phone. Then she went through and found where his phone had last pinged, "Son of a bitch, we got lucky, Steve. Thank god for the shitty Russian cellular structure in the countryside and a busy festival at Red Square that jammed cell towers. He last pinged inside Moscow."

Steve took a step back and just watched now. She went through Alexi's contacts to make sure he hadn't contacted anyone. He hadn't. And when Clint came back in, he had the same reaction, "We're lucky Tash. Fucking idiot stole a car from the square that was old enough to not have any GPS on it. I scanned it, and it doesn't seem to have anything transmitting from it."

Her brow lifted, "Wow, how often does luck fall on us when things go wrong? I guess we should count our blessings, right?"

They smirked at each other. The motions they were going through. The dry humor and heavy sarcasm. The back and forth, was all...so natural. How could it not be? It was their life and how they'd survived through the entirety of it.

"So, are we getting rid of the body or are we setting it up as a frame job? Either way has its pros and cons." Clint asked as he went to get a cup of that goddamn coffee he was making before he was so rudely interrupted by Alexi.

More glimpses of their life and decision making that made up their days, were on display right before Steve's eyes. He took another step backwards into the shadows of the house as he remembered Natasha's words, 'You're not supposed to be here. This isn't our time. We are from two different realities.'

Steve's heart found a way to break a little more, realizing she wasn't saying those things because she was pushing him away. She was saying those things because she believed them with every fiber of her being. Steve was watching how she lived. He was watching the decisions she had to make (how often?) outside the law, on her own, with surviving as the only end goal.

And Steve was disgusted with all of it.

Because he loved her.

He loved every part of her. Even this darker part that he'd only heard of and maybe seen shadows of in their life. He'd fought side-by-side with her for five beautiful years, but nothing ever happened like this. Because Steve and Natasha grounded each other. They made each other better. They got to fall in love in normal (somewhat) circumstances and have normal (somewhat) jobs as agents in the FBI. They'd been in the military and knew law and order well.

This was not law and order. This was lawlessness and disorder.

This was the life of a criminal, and it fucking broke his heart. Natasha was not a goddamn criminal...Except she was. And Steve's brain was imploding, seeing her duality on display in front of him right now.

"I mean if we get rid of the body, they won't find it, so there's that. But it will always leave them guessing and suspicious. I think if we frame it right, we can place his body in Moscow in the car he stole and can make it look like some Russian thugs. I mean...some poor bastards tried to mug us last night, Clint. Moscow is covered in wanna be crime lords. We frame it...Alexi went off on a trail, separate from Rumlow and Rollins. Which is true. And then he gets mugged and killed. What do you think?"

Clint was nodding, "We can drive the car he took back, and scrub and torch it on the outskirts. But if we do this, we gotta move really fast, because we need to beat Rumlow and Rollins back to Ivan and Oksana. Or at least get back before they get news about Alexi. And we gotta sell our reaction. Not surprised and maybe even a little happy. Our dislike for the asshole has never been hidden."

"Okay, so where were we, Clint? I got disconnected from you after the alarm in the Palace went off, and we found each other late in the evening, and hunkered down until we got word from Ivan and Oksana. Like they'd want us to."

"Yeah, good. That's good, Tasha. Best lies?" Clint asked, smirking.

"Have an air of truth to them." She was grinning in response as if this was the most natural thing in the world...As if Steve wasn't even there.

Clint caught Steve's face and blew out a breath, "Fuck. Rogers, I kind of forgot you were there. Don't mind our shop talk here...It's uh...It's kind of just how we work, ya know?"

Steve was so conflicted right now. He felt out of place. He felt like he wanted to scream and cry because he was still so goddamn angry at Natasha for her vague responses and his unanswered questions. He wanted to run away with her still, and try to protect her from all of this. But how she was acting? It really was like she didn't want protection, and it scared him. It scared him because yes it was the first glimpse of her in this life. But it was also because he still loved her.

He was scared until she turned around and met his eyes. And then her muscle memory and walls and resolve all disappeared.

Natasha's tough act dissolved, looking at Steve because she hated this too. She hated all of this, and always had. But her survival instincts had kicked in. It was how she made it through each day as she fell into the motions with Clint. She had to, otherwise she would have probably gouged her eyes out, after two days of being back with her handlers when she returned to them three years ago.

Natasha had Clint in this life, and they had to rely on each other. Steve had given her a chance at something more. Something warm and good, and she tried to bring Clint with her to that promised land, before the shadows yanked them back to this existence.

And now?

Now, Steve had seen her. And this was something she never wanted him to see. Because for their five years, she thought she'd never be in this life again. Back then, she truly believed she'd never be having a conversation about 'what to do with the body,' again in her life. And suddenly, Natasha felt like her brain was going to implode, or that she was going to be sick too.

Clint saw it all, "Shit. Jesus, this is a goddamn mess."

The sun was finally starting to rise as more light came into the room. How fitting that the light was shining on how fucked up this whole situation was.

Clint looked back and forth between his sister and Steve. And man...if he didn't have a dead body to load into a stolen vehicle and a million other things to do, he might shed a tear for them. They were hopeless and miserable, but join the fucking club, right?

But Clint took another look at his sister, and his heart found a way to weep a little for them.

Natasha and Steve looked like they were ready to jump off of a cliff. And he'd come here, knowing there was a strong chance he would have to be the bad guy. But he wasn't going to drag her out of here kicking and screaming, so he just nudged.

"Tasha, I'm going to get this fucker in the trunk of his shitty, stolen car. Throw me the blanket from the shelf over there." Natasha did, and helped Clint lift him. Clint was holding onto a very dead-weight Russian over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes now. He went on with a strained voice, "Tash, I'll get him...situated in the trunk. Then, I'll do a quick security check of the perimeter. We gotta scrub it down, and then we gotta move. I hate to sound like a dick, but you know me...You have maybe fifteen minutes tops. Okay?"

Natasha flinched at Clint's words. She wiped her eyes and looked at her brother, telling him she understood. No more hemming and hawing. No more playing. They needed to go, and she had maybe fifteen minutes to do what she had to do.

Steve kept staring at the floor where Clint had removed Alexi from. There was no blood with Natasha's clean kill. Almost like it hadn't even happened. Steve knew what she was going to try and do. He heard what they'd said, and he shook his head, not letting her speak, "How can you do this? How can you choose this life over what we had, Natasha?"

"Steve, I don't...I can't…" She blew out a breath to collect herself, "Clint wasn't exaggerating, Steve. And you just saw the life and death scenario that we might be facing if he and I don't get this entire situation with Alexi's body squared away. If we don't return to Ivan and Oksana soon."

Steve couldn't do this. He couldn't look at her now and see what she just did, and mend it with their past life and her choices. It didn't make any sense. He stepped out of the shadows of the living room and walked over to her, now hovering tall over her petite and very dangerous frame. "Natasha, please. I know what you're telling me. You're telling me to leave. But how can I leave without you? How can I leave without knowing whatever it is you're not telling me? Without knowing the truth?"

Natasha shut her eyes as Steve put his hands on her shoulders, "Please, Natasha. You have to say something. I'm not going to accept the bullshit answer, that this is the life you and Clint chose. You can put on as big of a sarcastic front as you want, but you and him? You're fucking miserable doing shit like this. I can see it. I know you, and I can see it hidden in your eyes."

"Steve, I don't want to fight you, but I can't...there aren't answers to your questions right now."

Steve's fingers lifted her chin to look directly at him, "Not good enough. Do better. You want me to go back to the States without you? You want me to even entertain the idea? Do better, Natasha."

She didn't take her eyes off of him. Yes, Natasha was at a crossroads now. More pissed than ever, that she had to separate from the love of her life again, and in rapidly approaching time. She had already started thinking of ways her and Clint could start plotting against Ivan and Oksana.

But she was at another crossroads right now. She couldn't lie to Steve. She'd meant everything she said to him last night. God, did she ever love him still. What she would give to truly run away with him right now. But they wouldn't last a month before someone from Russia would find them. Or before Ivan and Oksana went after Sarah or Bucky or someone else to draw them out.

No, Natasha couldn't lie, but she couldn't tell him the truth, because he would never leave her. He wouldn't, and he'd do something stupid and get himself hurt or killed.

Somewhere between lie and truth. Between their past and the future. Between love and anger. Between all of it, Natasha found herself at a crossroads right along with him, "Steve, you're right. There are things I'm not telling you. You say you could tell I was lying right? Well, look at me now."

Steve's brow creased as he found her hands and looked in her eyes as she went on, "You tell me if I'm lying right now. I'm not. I am being as honest with you as I can, and you are just going to have to trust me...and I know that is hard to ask with everything that's happened."

"Steve, I meant everything I said last night. I meant every word in that note, and I still do. But I also meant that this isn't our time. It isn't. And you know that. You saw what just happened, and right now? Clint and I can't just pick up and run from this life. Our choices aren't like that. One way or another, we are in our reality, and it's a place that you don't belong. It's a place that you're too good for. I hate that you know and saw any of this."

"Natasha…"

But she cut him off, "Steve, please. There are things I can't tell you, and I'm sorry for that. But I can't. Not right now at least. Because there are things I need to do...before I can tell you. You are not part of this world, Steve. Think of Wanda, and Bucky, and Sarah. That is your world. You need to go back to it."

Without even thinking, she set her and Steve in a direction they would be pointed in for two years with her next words. The direction of finding each other again, "Steve, I promise we'll see each other again. Not for a while. But we will. And I promise you'll get the answers to your questions someday. But not today. Today, you have to change your clothes and get into that SUV. You have to drive back to St. Petersburg and fly home. You have to go home, Steve. You have to. Please tell me you know that."

This wasn't the driving exercise. This wasn't the mole mission at Quantico. This wasn't like any of their stupid fights while living together. This was something deep within Steve's heart that he felt from her words. He heard the honesty in her voice, and it hit him like a tidal wave as he squeezed her hand.

Seeing her kill Alexi was the inciting incident.

And now, hearing her plea and promise in the aftermath? Steve couldn't explain it, but something shifted. He was still so angry. But the desperation in her words, somehow made Steve realize...that if he wasn't going to arrest her because he didn't want to see her hurt in the long run, then he couldn't run or be with her right now either, for those same reasons.

It was all, just enough to make the domino fall in his brain. To make him understand that he would have to do something he never could've imagined doing.

Steve heard the trunk outside slam shut, and he blew out a breath, "I...I'm gonna go get my clothes from my vehicle. Maybe splash some water on my face."

Natasha held back tears as she watched him leave the house. As she watched him carry his bag back inside and head to the bedroom. She wanted to scream at the unfairness, but she couldn't.

Was Steve going to be able to say anything else to her?

She hated every fucking part of this. But as Steve collected himself in the bathroom, staring in the mirror at himself to find the strength to do the impossible - leave Russia without Natasha...she looked around at the tiny safehouse.

Clint was back inside and finished cleaning up, returning it to order for the next time either one of them needed it, but Natasha stopped him.

A crossroads. A wake-up call. Having to part ways with Steve had taken the seed that was planted and turned it into a sapling, sprouting with determination right now.

Natasha looked at her brother with all the seriousness in the world, "Clint, I think it's time we stopped just following orders and started actually making our own plans. I'm so sick of this. I have to watch Steve leave after everything. I know I have to let him go right now, but I can't take this anymore."

Clint sighed as she continued, "I am done just following orders, Clint. I am. I hate our lives...more than ever. And I swear to god, I'm going to make them pay for everything they've done to you and me."

Clint felt the same way deep down as Natasha. But more importantly, he'd follow his sister to the ends of the earth, "Let's get this all covered up and get back, and then we'll talk okay? I might know a couple people back in the States that can help us out…"

A few minutes later, Natasha was changed too, with her dress balled up and Steve's clothes in a pile for him. She kept the purple scarf he'd bought the night before. Everything was settled with the body in the car, the house cleaned, and Steve ready to go in his jeans and sweatshirt.

The three of them were awkwardly standing around, waiting to part ways. "Rogers, you sure leave an impression when you make an entrance. I'll give you that. Sorry it has to be this way. I'll...I'll see you around." Clint wouldn't see Steve for four years, but neither of them knew that right now.

Clint looked at his sister and shook his head. This situation was fucked up, and he hated all of it too. But it turns out Steve showing up in Russia caused dominos to fall for Clint too. Because as he walked to his car, he was already starting to think about what they could do to hurt Ivan and Oksana's operation. He felt a sense of motivation to do something about their crappy life now...more than ever.

Steve and Natasha were left alone and looked like they were waiting to see who would talk first. Steve had his backpack at his feet with everything, including his handcuffs and his whole 'plan' stuffed inside. The clock was ticking, and Natasha would have given anything to be able to stop time.

"Steve…"

"Natasha, I can't…"

She shut her eyes, "Yes, you can, Steve. You are so strong and good. And you can do this. I know I don't deserve any ounce of trust from you. But you have to find a way to believe me when I say, that we will see each other again, when there is more time. But you have to go back to your family, and your job, and your home. You go back and be the man that you are and keep doing good in this world."

He shut his eyes for a second. Most people might think Steve was insane for finding a way to believe her, but he could tell she meant everything she was saying. In her own way, Natasha was being as honest with him right now as she possibly could. He stepped forward, and found a way to trust his heart as he leaned down to press his forehead against hers, "Natasha, I can't believe I'm about to say this...But if I listen and go back without you, you need to promise me something."

She felt the warmth of his palms against her hands, "Tell me, Steve?"

Steve opened his eyes back up to find hers again, "You remember, that the woman I am looking at right now? The woman I was with last night? The woman that I was with for five years? She's in there. She's you, Natasha. Don't try and hide behind who this world has tried to force you to be. It might be part of who you are, but it doesn't define you. It's not all of you. There's more of Natasha than Yelena in you. There always has been. You remember that."

Tears finally fell down her cheek as she nodded, but he stopped her, "I'm not done yet, Natasha. There's one other thing."

She looked at him again and felt her heart clench as she heard his next words.

"You stay alive, do you hear me? I don't know how I believe you, but I do. I know if we're going to survive this mess from me coming here, that you and Clint need to do...whatever it is you're going to do. And that I need to leave. But you promise me, you'll stay alive. You stay alive because I will find you again. You promise me that, Nat. And I promise you somehow, there will be a right time for us again."

She was crying harder now, "I will. I promise, Steve. And I meant it. I meant everything in that note. I always have and always will."

Steve leaned down, not being able to hold back any longer and found her lips. It was wrong and so messed up. The anger and pain and sorrow were all still there. The confusion and maddening questions were all around. But so was the very harsh truth that Natasha and Clint were going to be in grave danger. And he felt guilty for somehow causing this situation to occur.

Were their life choices his fault?

No.

But everything that happened at the Palace and the aftermath, were ripples because of his denial-filled mission to Russia. To bring her back with him. And no matter how much Steve wanted to run with her. He knew they wouldn't survive long. Against all odds, Steve trusted Natasha when she said that they would find each other again someday.

When it was their time.

The kiss was tender and gentle and filled with all of their mixed emotions. But most of all, it was filled with everything in that note. The unspoken love that couldn't find its way to their lips. Yes, Natasha and Steve were at a crossroads, about to head off into the next two years of their life before they'd find their way back to each other.

Steve pulled away and kissed her forehead as his own tears fell, "I still mean it too, Natasha."

This stolen blip in time had served as a wake-up call. They both realized any thoughts of moving on from each other were utterly hopeless. Natasha would still try to encourage Steve to move on from her in the future. But she knew...there was no one else for her ever, in her life. Steve found a way to move his feet towards the door and walked to his car. And he knew too...that he would never be over her, and somehow accepted that he didn't want to be.

Yes, this was a wake-up call. He wasn't going to arrest her, and the further he got from having her handcuffed to him, the more he realized how asinine the plan was to begin with. But this whole backwards plan did help him find her. And Steve already started planning ways that he might find her again down the road. It would take two years, but another seed had been planted.

Natasha stepped outside with her bag, locked the house and threw her items in Clint's car, "You ready, Tasha?"

She wasn't. She never would be.

Her heart still felt like it'd been driven over. Natasha shook her head at her brother as he sighed, knowing what she was about to do.

Natasha shut the car door, turned around and looked at Steve who was standing by his own drivers' side, watching her. He looked like he could crack, and this was going to make it harder, but she didn't care.

Natasha ran the 20 feet to Steve and grabbed his face as he held her tight in his arms. What they would give to be able to run and hide. But what they wanted and what had to happen couldn't co-exist right now.

Steve held her cheek in his hand and looked down at her glassy eyes as he listened to her, "I don't know if I should say it or not. But I can't let you drive off without telling you...I love you, Steve. I always have and always will."

His words followed right on top of hers, "I love you too, Nat. I love you…" He couldn't continue, because her lips crashed into his as he pulled her tight against him with his arm around her waist.

It was dramatic and passionate and probably made the parting of ways more difficult, but neither one of them cared at all in the moment.

Their mouths were warm and wanting more as they pressed and pushed and battled against each other. It wasn't a goodbye. It was a kiss, promising they'd stay alive and see each other again. It was a kiss, displaying everything they'd just said to each other. It was a kiss that was harder to pull away from, than any one that came before it.

But somehow, they did. Seconds passed and Natasha lowered her feet back to the ground, and Steve loosened his hold on her waist. They pulled away as he held her cheek, and she ran her fingers through his beard, memorizing the feeling for a second longer.

Heated tears and humid breaths blended together as Steve brushed a final kiss across Natasha's forehead.

She gave him one final look and turned around to go to the car that Clint and her would drive away in. It was a wake-up call that was needed at that specific time in their tragic tale. And it was the one and only time that Steve Rogers willingly let Natasha Romanoff leave his side.

He got into his SUV, turned it on, and started his long trek back to St. Petersburg. He started his trip home without her.

Present Day - Task-Force Compound

Natasha opened her eyes, and her body immediately grew stiff. Panic swelled as saliva formed in her mouth.

"Steve?"

It was pitch black. She couldn't see a thing as her hands felt around in a frenzy. The only thing she could feel...was cement. No. She wasn't back here. She couldn't be back here. But the cold surface surrounded her as she kept shutting her eyes and opening them back up. Nothing but darkness and concrete.

"Steve? Can you hear me?"

Natasha stepped forward, feeling along the wall as a sense of dread seeped through her. Her heart was pounding hard enough, she could feel it in her throat. She kept moving, sliding her hands along the cool surface as she kept calling out Steve's name. Still nothing, until a few seconds later she was on the ground. She had tripped.

Groaning, Natasha got on her knees and wiped her hands, but stopped immediately. Her fingers were covered in a warm and slimy substance, and she couldn't stop the tears from forming once she smelled the indistinguishable copper scent. Blood.

"No! No, no, no. Steve, where are you?"

Trembling came after her cries, as the darkness faded slightly, revealing the familiarity of moonlight through a barred window. It was her cell, and she immediately felt sick. She had tripped over Abraham Erskine's body. His bloody and bruised body beneath her. His blood that her hands and knees were covered in now.

Natasha shut her eyes tight, but each time she opened, he was right there on the ground. Frozen in fear, she felt the walls close in on her.

Panic. Dread. Fear.

All of it consumed every thought and sense until she heard the terrifying rattle at the door. There was nowhere to go, but she tried anyway. Natasha ran to the window, as the sound began to smother. All she could do was scream.

"Steve! Help me, please!"

Wake up.

A voice broke through the heavy air around her as she looked back at the door. It was still rattling, more forcefully now. Everything she feared was on the other side.

A snap of the fingers followed, Wake up, Natasha.

Her eyes opened wide, and the cell was gone.

Natasha lifted her head up a little as she glanced around, breathing heavily.

She was on a loveseat in a small room on the second floor of the warehouse. The only other items in the room were a chair that Bruce sat in, next to a small table by him with a spinning gyroscope, that someone might use as an office decoration. It's what Bruce had used to help hypnotize her. There were a couple bottles of water, a fan, a lamp, and a chair in the back corner that was empty.

It was empty because Steve ran over, unable to stay away any longer with how loudly Natasha yelled his name the last time before Bruce told her to wake up.

This was going to be a lot harder than Banner had originally thought.

A lot.

Honestly, Bruce didn't know who was having a harder time.

Natasha was obviously struggling. She'd lasted 10 minutes under hypnosis, but her breathing escalated quickly. And it soon became whimpering, and then quickly turned to loud cries and yelling at the end. And Steve had to sit there, watching and listening...and feeling helpless until he finally reached his breaking point when he ran over to hold her hands.

That was when Banner brought Natasha out of her trance.

Two weeks into being at the compound, and Natasha had agreed to try this. And this 10-minute session was the result.

Steve was whispering in Natasha's ears and holding her hands tight. His body looked like it could be used as a cutting board with how rigid he was, "Natasha, I'm here. You're safe with me at the compound. I'm right here." Her neck and back were soaked in sweat as she steadied her breathing and squeezed Steve's hands. "Just breathe, Nat. I'm right here."

Natasha tried to listen as she watched his every move. He breathed in and out slowly, and rested a palm on her stomach, "That's good, Nat. Just watch me and feel my hand. There you go, I'm right here." Another minute passed as Bruce wrote some notes down before Natasha finally spoke.

"I don't remember anything new."

She sounded more than disappointed, but Steve was holding her hand, "What did you remember, Natasha?" She told him, sounding even more determined than when she started.

"Bruce, I want to try again."

He and Steve both said at the same time, "Natasha, I don't think…"

"No. It's my choice. We keep doing it until I can make a breakthrough."

Steve voiced his concern, "Go over this one more time, Bruce. I want us both to hear it again." He was being overprotective but didn't care.

Banner sighed as he took off his glasses, "86 billion. Roughly 86 billion neurons are floating in our brains. And that's just one of thousands of numbers I could throw out to you. Natasha...Steve, this is not like flipping through a photo album. The brain is complex and a world of its own...where a lot of what goes on is unknown still. Think of it like space. We've only begun to scratch the surface of understanding what is really out there. With the brain, it's kind of the same."

"And with the brain, we aren't always remembering exact replicas of what happened...especially in dreams and hypnosis. Under those circumstances, memories often twist and change according to emotions that are driving the motivations of the dream state."

He sighed again, "I wouldn't have suggested this Steve, if I didn't think Natasha could handle it. Honestly Natasha, I think you already remember the most traumatizing things that happened to you. And what you don't remember, is bogged down in the repetition and similarity, of each day running together. It is very common in prisoners of war. They can sometimes recall the harsher things versus the down time. You mentioned darkness and silence and food rations and fighting. Those things in a perpetual, never ending cycle over 21 months? No wonder your brain is struggling right now. Finding something inside of that...is like finding a needle in a haystack."

"Look, the good news is that you were receptive to hypnosis. That was the first hurdle. Having Steve here helped, I'm sure. I can guide and ask questions along the way while you're under, but it's more about you exploring and trying to push past barriers while you're in your trance."

Steve was looking at Natasha who sat up now and held Steve's hand in her lap, "You said it's not like a photo album, Bruce. It felt like I didn't have control over what I was doing in it. Do you think I need to go beyond that rattling door somehow?"

Bruce looked at her sympathetically, "Natasha, this isn't my area of expertise, but typically doors symbolize a passageway to your past, or confronting something head on like facing a fear, or something you have to deal with in order to move forward. It could be any number of things from those 21 months. Or it could be nothing."

Bruce stood up and handed her a bottle of water, "Remember, Natasha...you might be sifting through pain and your memories, both vivid and hidden ones, and it may not work. Or it may trigger something to help you remember after you wake up. I wish I could give you a more concrete answer."

"I know Bruce. You're doing your best. Is there a way I can stop freaking out so quickly? I'd like to last longer than 10 minutes."

Steve was sitting next to her now, as close as he could on the love seat and put his arm around her.

Bruce gave a warm smile, "Let's revisit this...this afternoon. I know you want to push yourself. But this was the first time. We'll revisit and try again later. I'm not taking no for an answer."

They did try again that afternoon. And again, the next day and following afternoon...And the day after that.

Three full days of trying, and Natasha kept screaming, not being able to get past a rattling door, or really see anything different at all. It was like a mental block was stopping her from fully relaxing or something. So, three days later, she was in the same spot with Steve at her side in the morning, asking Bruce again about any suggestions that could help her last longer than 10 or 15 minutes.

Bruce took a breath, "Actually, it may sound unconventional, but I think the two of you are very unique with what you've been through. Steve and Natasha, you are visibly calmer when you're around one another. The few times I've conducted hypnotherapy, it's been just me and the individual. I actually think we should lean into that calming sense you two bring to each other. Natasha, I want to bring Steve over, so he's closer to you this time. I think laying against him might help you relax more. You're still going to struggle with whatever is in your head, but it might help you remember that Steve is there on the outside."

Steve wanted to throw the towel in for the day for her. It'd been three days of watching her cry and scream. And seeing it again this morning, made him even more worried than each time that'd come before. But he saw that look in Natasha's eye. It was the same look that she had when Tony bet her during that stupid mole mission on who the better spy was.

Steve didn't even try to talk her out of it and just squeezed her hand instead, "I'm right here, Nat." She took a breath and nodded, "Let's try it again, Bruce. I don't care that I just tried. We need to keep going."

Steve sat in the corner of the sofa, and Natasha laid down with her head resting against his jeans and with her knees scrunched up as her feet pushed into the opposite end.

Bruce brought the gyroscope front and center as Natasha turned her head towards it. "Steve, try your hardest not to move or interact. She knows you're right there, okay?" Steve nodded, staring down at her as she squeezed his hand before returning it to her own lap.

Outside, Steve tried his hardest to look strong for her. Inside, his own 86 billion neurons were sputtering and threatening to short circuit, because he hated every second of this.

"Natasha, focus on the comfort you feel, knowing Steve is there beside you. Watch the rotations on the table and let your eyes follow the movement. Listen to the words I am saying. Focus. Watch. Listen."

Focus. Watch. Listen.

Natasha's face was against a wall. The cement wall. She felt around the thin mattress and a scratchy blanket underneath her. The sound of rain was outside the barred window above, as she saw the moonlight coming inside the cell.

She rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Her head was throbbing and she reached down to feel where the source of most of her pain was coming from right now. Her thigh.

This was different already.

The tremors in her hand were strong as she lowered it to graze over her flesh. Natasha hissed loudly at the slightest touch. Her thigh. The cuff. Her funeral. Steve.

"Steve?" She knew he wouldn't answer her, but she still spoke towards the streaks of moonlight, "Steve, I wish I could put my arms around you. I wish I could tell you everything is gonna be alright."

Natasha's sweatpants were almost fused to her skin from the puss and fluid leaking out from where she'd been burned, but the pain in her heart still won the battle inside. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all that today. And I'm sorry that those who really died will never get a funeral. For Dr. Erskine and for our…"

Natasha's shaky voice turned to silent crying as a sob threatened to escape. Her words stopped coming out of her as she lay there for a while...until she heard the rattle. The sound snapped her out of it and she instantly pretended to be asleep.

"Careful Rollins, she's still feisty when she wants to be."

"So, Sitwell is handling all the money for us and doing his job in the State Department? You sure that asshole can handle the pressure?"

Rumlow's gruff voice answered, "Why don't you voice your concerns to Oksana and see how she handles your questioning, Rollins? Besides, it's not like Sitwell is the only one. Poseidon is going to send extra help over here when it's time to pull the trigger with Rogers. Plus, we got the people at Stark Industries and the Defense Department. When we pull that string, America won't know what hit em."

"What should I do with this gauze and salve?"

"Jesus, Rollins. You scared to get close to her? Don't worry, she's out cold. You should have heard her squealing like a banshee earlier with the video and when I flipped that switch on her leg. Bitch isn't so tough when she's sobbing uncontrollably. Give me the stuff. They want her weak, not dead...yet, at least. Saving that for the right time. Oksana said to bring this down to her because the doctor said she risks infection from her burn."

"When's the right time gonna be, Rumlow?"

"Whenever the Defense Department gives the nod. The mess in Kazakhstan set us back, so we need to get that money back. You know how irate they were with Romanoff. Ivan and Oksana are going to draw out Rogers' and her suffering for as long they can...they deserve it too. Fucking made their own bed choosing America and each other. Now they can lie in it."

As soon as Rumlow mentioned Steve, Natasha's body tensed, which did not go unnoticed by Rumlow, "Well, well. Rollins, look who's trying to act like she's out cold."

Rollins came over and held her feet. And Rumlow flipped her over on the cot as she cried out in pain, "Did you hear anything interesting, Romanoff? Let me tell you something. It wouldn't matter if you heard everything Poseidon was planning from start to finish. Because you have no one to tell. And you'll have no one to tell ever again with what Oksana's got planned for you. She might have planned a quicker death for you...if you wouldn't have gotten yourself knocked up and tried to kill her a few months ago."

Natasha was squirming underneath him, expecting him to punch her. He didn't. He blew out a breath filled with cigarette smoke on her face, "Brought you some gauze and shit, doctor's orders." He tossed it on the ground, and before he left, he went straight to the source of the searing pain in her body...the burn. His hand went to her thigh, and he didn't wait a second as he dug his thumb into the oozing red flesh that he scarred, only hours ago. She screamed out, "Steve," again and again. She couldn't help it. It was the first and last thing she thought of, and the only thing she could say.

The throaty cries didn't end after Rumlow and Rollins left. They came out with a force until her throat went dry and her voice hoarse, as she turned back toward the wall, murmuring Steve's name over and over again into the night.

Wake up.

Natasha's body jolted as Steve held her firmly against his leg. Worry pervaded his every thought as her eyes fluttered open. More sweat. And tears had leaked out of her eyes this time. Her nails were digging into the fabric of the couch. Steve had somehow managed to keep control and not try to wake her as Bruce guided her through the memory to keep going. But Banner woke her up because the screaming hadn't just been in the memory. She was crying out in a desperate panic repeatedly at the end, when he snapped his fingers.

Natasha became increasingly frustrated after she told them about the memory. She thought it wasn't anything new or useful, but Bruce tried to stay positive. "It's different, Natasha. Different is better. It's progress." She tried to sit up and got lightheaded as Steve's arms went around her shoulders. Natasha was about to say she wanted to do it again, but Bruce cut her off.

"Natasha, your determination is impressive as always, but we need to take a break. You need to go drink some juice and have some toast or something. You've already done twice as much today as normal, and it's still early. Go and work for a few hours, and we'll talk about maybe trying this again this afternoon."

Natasha was frustrated. And impatient. And tired. And every other adjective imaginable. She had a right to be, more so than anyone else. She went down to the kitchen with Steve. And just like the past three mornings, it was very clear that a few people heard some of her screams from the worried expressions on their faces.

Steve squeezed her shoulder one more time, "I'm gonna go check on Fury with everyone in the meeting room." Natasha tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes, "Nat, it's okay. We'll figure out another way if this doesn't work."

She blew out a breath that couldn't hide how exhausted she was, emotionally. Yes, from the fact that it was more draining each time she tried. But more so, from the fact that she still hadn't been able to remember, "Yeah. I know. Go, Steve. I'm okay."

Sarah hid her own concern on her face as she stood in the kitchen and watched Natasha stare at her son as he walked off. She watched Bruce walk by with his notebook in hand, pinching his nose to join the others in the meeting room. And then she turned back to Natasha as she brought a cup of coffee over to her.

"It'd be a pity to have that strength you've regained over the last six weeks, collapse with the weight of the world you're putting on your shoulders, Natasha."

Natasha couldn't help it. The smile she unsuccessfully attempted a minute ago with Steve turned into an actual one. Sarah Rogers had that calming effect on her, and pretty much everyone else in the compound. But the smile quickly faded with how she was feeling, "I wish I could say you were exaggerating by saying, 'the weight of the world,' Sarah. But it's actually true. It feels like it at least."

Sarah leaned on the counter with her elbows, holding her own cup of caffeine right next to Natasha. "You know, I remember a time from when Steve was a child. He and James were always strong willed...I know you're shocked by that. Actually, every single person in this warehouse is, in their own way. It's in all of your DNA. But...Steve in particular, just like you, my dear, are particularly headstrong when you set your mind to something. Again, I know you're shocked."

Sarah nudged Natasha's shoulder as she raised her eyebrow until Natasha relented and nodded in agreement as another smirk appeared.

"But there was this one time that I remember. It's silly, but just listen. James and Steve loved this hot cocoa as little children. It wasn't anything special. God, I think it was the cheapest I could buy. But when their father...was in a particular way before he died, he would end up passed out in the living room or bedroom from drinking."

Sarah's eyes drifted off for a moment, "I was so lost then. Just trying to hold on and do my best. But the boys and I had each other."

Natasha looked over and saw Sarah's eyes shining as she thought of that time in her life, but she shook it off quickly, "Anyway. As I was saying, I would make them this cheap hot cocoa and we would sit on the floor of our tiny kitchen, with our chipped and worn mugs. And each time, it was the best we felt all day because we had each other."

Just like everyone at the compound with demons in their past, painful memories didn't go into hiding without a fight, even for a wise woman like Sarah. Her voice became softer for a moment again, "I won't even begin to talk about the guilt I dealt with for years and years, and that still shows up...when I think of the scary situations the boys were in with their father, who was sick with his disease and anger. But I was young and lost and frightened."

Natasha reached over to put her hand over the woman's, she'd grown to love and adore over the years, "Sarah, you were incredibly brave and raised two wonderful men...Don't ever tell Bucky I said that." Sarah chuckled as Natasha went on, "And you did the absolute best you could with the hand you were dealt in life."

Sarah had a glint in her eye as she blinked away tears, "Well, I suppose you're right, Natasha. I think you're all here together because you've all done the best you could, with the hands you were dealt in life." Sarah winked at Natasha and held her hand over her own for a second.

"But oh, I've gone off track again. As I was saying, the hot cocoa. It would calm us and heal, without us even realizing. And it made us think we would make it through anything together. It was the boys and my little and cheap tradition. Well...long after their father was gone...I'm talking years...they were maybe 10 or 11. James had come home from being picked on at school and had some scrapes on his face. He was feeling pretty low. I was at work and the boys were on their own for a couple hours. Well, Steve was bound and determined to make his brother feel better. And he wanted to fall back on something from years before. But we were out of cocoa. He tore the kitchen apart, top to bottom, looking for the silly powder."

Natasha was charmed by Sarah's warm voice as she listened and drank, "I came home tired, and I was mad at first and made Steve clean everything up. I came home the next day, and it was the same thing. And the same thing the day after that...and the day after that. I sat my little, stubborn Steven down on the fifth day. It was a Friday when I returned home from work, and he finally told me that he remembered hiding some of the hot cocoa mix from years before during our little tradition. And he was so upset because all he wanted was to make his brother feel better. But...he couldn't remember where he hid the cocoa."

Maybe it was stupid. But Natasha was enamored with Sarah, and always had been. She could absolutely picture it. A scrawny Steve Rogers in his pre-teen years, bound and determined as ever to make things right in his own way. It had always warmed her heart, hearing about Steve as a kid, but this particular instance was so touching. Probably because Sarah knew what she was doing. And Sarah knew Natasha was similar as a child in her own way.

"Honestly? I thought my son was crazy and just mis-remembered. I pulled James into the kitchen, and the three of us talked. James swore to Steve, that he was okay. Steve relaxed a little and we watched a movie late that night until we all fell asleep on the sofa. I should have known better though, Natasha."

One would've thought they were reading an Agatha Christie novel with how interested Natasha was in Sarah's memory.

Sarah patted her hand, "It was probably 1 AM. And I woke up to banging in the kitchen. I came out, and there was Steve, with a smile on his face like he'd won a gold medal. He had three mugs on the counter and the same cheap hot cocoa from years and years before in a small canister on the counter. He told me as soon as he relaxed and fell asleep with us during the movie, it came to him. He'd hidden the cocoa in a space behind a loose panel in a cupboard."

Natasha chuckled as Sarah finished, "Now, I could probably write a book on lessons we can learn from children. You grin and smile through stale and old cocoa because your son makes it for you, and somehow it becomes the most delicious thing in the world. You never give up. You believe in yourself, even when others are saying you're mis-remembering. You stand by your loved ones and support them when they're down, because at the end of the day, that's who you have in this life."

Sarah smiled as she put her arm around Natasha and finished, "I could go on and on about all of those lessons, but it's much simpler than all of that, my dear. You and Steve and everyone here, will find another way if you can't remember. You will. It's how you're all wired. But in the meantime, you need to take that weight of the world, off your shoulders and have patience. Because if there's one thing my stubborn Steve taught me with that cheap cocoa, is don't count him out or underestimate him. He has the will and patience of a mule, and what he's waiting for, will relent and reveal itself in the end. You're the same exact way, Natasha. It's one of the things I love most about you."

Sarah wrapped her arms around Natasha and gave her one more hug before kissing her head and filling up her coffee again before going to find Laura.

Natasha didn't know how Sarah did it, but she was feeling better and a little calmer after talking with her. Natasha looked around. Most of the task-force was in the meeting room, but she headed over to the dining table where Loki and Wanda were at.

"Look, all I'm saying Wanda, is that it's curious that your mother-in-law is going on morning walks with Fury every morning. There's something about this warehouse. I swear, love is in the air."

Wanda groaned, "Loki, I don't want to talk about it. And I don't want you to talk about it either. It's weird enough as it is."

Loki formed a devilish grin, "I don't know. I find it rather refreshing, Wanda. Sarah and Fury are in their sixties and are still getting after it. Makes me less depressed about getting old."

Natasha choked on her coffee as she sat down, and Wanda smacked him on the head, "Loki, quit jumping to conclusions. All we know is they go on morning walks...God, I swear you are more immature than my four-year old son most of the time."

Loki shrugged as he grinned at Natasha, "Were you getting Sarah's daily words of wisdom in the kitchen? That woman could seriously make a killing with dishing out life advice."

Natasha raised her eyebrow at him, "Loki, what kind of life advice is Sarah Rogers giving you?"

He scoffed, faking being offended, "I'll have you know, that woman and I have a lot in common. We both are incredibly observant. We both think her sons are incredibly handsome. And we both think you are putting way too much pressure on yourself, Natasha. We'll figure out a different way if you can't remember. You need to know that."

Wanda rolled her eyes again at Loki, "You're just sucking up to Natasha because I smacked you, and because I don't react to your comments about my handsome husband anymore. Natasha, Sarah also told him that he needed to quit sowing his wild oats and needed to find a space to plant some roots, finally. I'm not even going to begin to dissect those innuendos."

Natasha couldn't help it. She was grinning ear-to-ear as Loki came back, "Exactly. Thank you, Wanda. A baby boomer who's talking to me about sowing oats? Now that is a woman who's getting some. Speaking of getting some, Natasha...Love is definitely in the air here. You and Rogers seem to be cozy with all your glances and hand holding. Laura's even found a way to make that brother of yours smile. And I would put money on the fact, that I caught Sam and Maria flirting again."

Wanda shook her head, "Oh whatever, Loki. Their whole, 'Will they, won't they' tune has played out so many times, that I think there are scratches on the record. Sam and Maria flirt. They always flirt, but they've never taken the chance."

Natasha stared at their quipping contest a little wide eyed, "We're the two of you actually working today...or were you just gossiping like you have a daytime talk show?"

They laughed at Natasha's words. Regardless of how scary the outside world was right now, these little moments were wonderful. Each passing day, Natasha was coming back to them a little more. And it felt like they had their friend back as Loki grinned, "Now that is a great idea, Natasha. I've already told Stark that if he would just install cameras in here, we could sell the footage and make a killing because MTV would buy it. Imagine...The Real World: FBI."

Natasha avoided that deep dive into nothingness, "So, what are the two of you working on exactly?"

Wanda turned her computer screen towards her, "Well, Fury is paranoid about us making any sort of contact on networks with people, outside of Morse Code. But...Loki had an idea…"

"Loki had a great idea," he added in the third person as Wanda smirked and went on, "Loki...had an idea. There are some criminals that he's worked with over the years that would be equally motivated to stop Poseidon for different reasons, but still at this point, help is help. So, we're throwing a few feelers out in code via the Dark Web to see if anyone bites."

Natasha's brow lifted as Loki added, "Don't look shocked, Romanoff. Fury is already working with you, me and Barton. He had Clint's misfit crew of mercenaries working with Steve and Bucky and Tony two and a half weeks ago when the FBI was attacked. Give the old man credit. He's a lot looser than he looks…Or maybe I should give credit to Sarah."

"Ouch...Hey!"

Wanda had smacked him harder over the head, "So anyway, Poseidon is bad for business if you're one of the less ruthless criminals in the states. More drugs are coming in from overseas. Stark Industries is wiping out weapons sales on the black market. It's leaving a lot of the criminals Loki used to deal with restless, I guess."

Natasha took another drink, "That makes sense. So, you're what? Putting out a want ad on the dark web to see if any...old acquaintances know anything, Loki?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Single White Male: Criminals Wanted...Or something like that. The coding is just a little more complex than that." Loki winked at Natasha as he went on, "But in the meantime, we have some new algorithms that will hopefully find more data patterns...or at the very least, maybe we can get a hit on our CCTV monitoring of Sitwell or Rumlow or somebody..."

Peter had been in the living room coloring and came running over. He barreled right in between the ladies as he hopped up on Natasha's lap. "Oof. What do you have there, Peter?"

Natasha placed her hand on his back as he looked at his mom and she encouraged him to give her what he'd been working on. "I drew a picture for you, Nat. Just like Uncle Steve draws."

Natasha peeked over his shoulder, "You did? Can I see it?"

Peter nodded, but paused, "It's okay, Nat."

Natasha looked a little confused, "What's okay, Peter?"

Peter leaned up to her ear to act like he was whispering, but was still loud enough that Loki and Wanda could hear, "It's okay. I have bad dreams too. And so does Uncle Steve. And so does Mom and Dad. That's why you yell a lot...You had a bad dream?" Peter must have heard her a couple of times during her sessions with Bruce and Steve.

Natasha felt a little embarrassed at first as she dipped her head, but Wanda smiled warmly at her friend, "I just told him the truth because he's been worried about you this week, Natasha. I told him that we all have bad dreams sometimes. And right now, you're having them too."

Peter tapped on Natasha's shoulder and showed her what he was holding in his other hand - his drawing. Natasha took it and looked at it. For a four-year old's work, it was pretty good. There was a big red building, that Natasha figured had to be the warehouse. In front, were stick figures with names underneath in Wanda's handwriting.

Sarah, Bucky, Wanda and Peter were together holding hands. And on the other side of Peter, was Natasha, with red crayon swirls distinguishing her hair and all. Her little stick arm overlapped with his, showing that they were holding hands too. Steve was right by her, holding her other stick hand. And then, everyone else was all over the paper. On the roof. In a window. On the side of the building. All with their names in Wanda's writing right by them.

One big happy stick figure family, from Peter's perspective at least.

Loki craned his neck to look over their shoulders, "Nice drawing kid. Where am I?"

Wanda had a devilish grin on her face, "Oh...you're in it, Loki." Peter was snickering into Natasha's shoulder as she counted the people, but like Loki, she couldn't see him. Loki looked at Peter and then narrowed his eyes at the drawing, "Wanda, please tell me your child did not draw me as the black cat next to your husband's leg."

Natasha couldn't help it. She burst out laughing and Peter did too as Wanda shrugged her shoulders through her own fit of giggles at his expense, "Sorry Loki, Peter told me a couple nights ago that you remind him of a cat. The seed was planted, and it grew from there."

Loki walked off towards the meeting room, muttering, "If anyone's the task-force pet, it's Thor. Stupid oaf can't string together a normal sounding sentence if his life depended on it."

Natasha hugged Peter tight, "Thank you, Peter. I'm going to hang it up in my room. I bet it helps me sleep at night." He ran off back to the living room, clueless at how such an innocent act of drawing a picture, could lighten her morning. Between Steve, her friends, Sarah, and Peter, Natasha had almost forgotten about the looming thoughts and that weight on her shoulders.

Almost.

The relief didn't last though, because the biggest wake-up call yet, pulled her back to reality as the radio in the kitchen caused both women's ears to perk.

News Report:

CE: I'm Christine Everhart with Marvel's 616 Live Broadcast. This just in. We have breaking news at this hour.

We've just received word that the U.S. Consulate in Sydney, Australia and the U.S. Embassy in Stockholm, Sweden have come under attack. Reports are still flooding in, and the information is very new, but we've heard from credible sources, that there is fire and smoke billowing from both physical locations. And multiple Americans are being reported dead.

Rumors are swirling around about a growing terrorist threat from overseas. It has the internet buzzing because it increasingly looks like these coordinated acts of violence are linked with the attack at the FBI in New York City, only a little over two weeks ago.

It's too coincidental that now three American Agencies have come under fire within weeks of each other. We hoped that the FBI attack was the end, but now we fear it was only the beginning. And worse, it wasn't isolated to America. Two of our most peaceful allies have now been subject to cruelty and brutal attacks on foreign soil, for reasons unknown.

President Ellis assured America in his last address that those found responsible, would be brought to justice. We have to ask, how long will it take for justice to be served?

We will keep you informed as details keep pouring in. This is Christine Everhart with Marvel's 616 Live Broadcast, signing off for now. We are your eyes and ears when you can't be. And we will keep you abreast throughout the day and evening as this story continues to unfold.

It was a hell of a wake-up call.

So much for feeling relieved, and getting her mind off of what she couldn't remember. Natasha stood up, and Wanda followed, "Natasha, you're not responsible for their actions, and have to stop shouldering the blame for everything Poseidon does."

Natasha's body tensed as she shook her head, "I'll stop feeling blame when I take out Ivan and Oksana. When we all find a way to stop Poseidon as a whole. Whatever is inside me, I have to find a way to remember. I don't care if Bruce has to physically dig it out of me."

Wanda sighed as she watched Natasha walk quickly into the meeting room, demanding Bruce get upstairs to continue the hypnotherapy. Bruce did as she asked, and Steve followed after both of them, looking more worried than when he'd come downstairs before.

"Natasha."

"No Bruce, you push me and keep me going, no matter how much I'm screaming. You keep asking me to keep going while I'm out of it. I don't care what I'm saying or doing. You keep pushing me."

She turned to look at Steve, and he knew better than to argue with her right now. Instead he just said, "If you start trying to hurt yourself, we're waking you up. I'm not compromising on that, Natasha."

The way he was looking at her...she wanted to just collapse in his arms, but she had to do this, "Okay, fine...I just want whatever is inside me, Steve. If it'll help take these assholes down, we need it. We need it because people keep dying because of Poseidon. They're sending a message with these last two attacks."

Her voice started tightening, and Steve pulled her into his arms as Bruce spun the gyroscope on the small table. Steve and Natasha got situated as she took a deep breath and stared at the circular motions.

Focus. Watch. Listen.

"No. Steve, please help."

Natasha landed with a thud on the cement ground as she held her stomach tight. She was back at the beginning. Back to her first memory in the cell. She was cold and bleeding and bruised, lying flat against the concrete. The moonlight filtered through the bars and pierced her eyes as she shouted out in pain.

She pressed into her stomach and cried, knowing what was gone, "Steve?"

Somehow, this felt a little different. Deep down, there was some part of her that knew this wasn't quite a nightmare, and it definitely wasn't reality. But it still felt real. She heard the door rattling, but knew what was going to happen before it did. Because unfortunately, she remembered this part of her captivity.

Oksana was here. And all Natasha could think was how she could get those seconds back and finish the job this time. A flurry. A flash. And a few seconds later, Natasha had Oksana pinned to the ground again, squeezing tight against her throat.

Focus. Watch. Listen.

Somehow, Bruce's words were repeating in her brain as she was squeezing Oksana's throat. She did listen. She listened to the diminishing breathing of the woman in her grasp. But she also listened outside the door as she heard Ivan, "Rumlow! Hand Erskine to me, now! The Secretary is not going to be happy if this goes wrong before it's even started. We are on thin ice already."

'Secretary.'

Before Natasha could hear anything more, another flurry...and Erskine was before her. She was screaming at Ivan, begging him not to do this. But then Rumlow shot his gun twice, and Erskine was on the ground, dying in her arms again. "No. No! Don't leave me." Natasha sobbed and cried as the memory continued to play out. But she heard a voice echo inside her head.

Focus. Watch. Listen.

It was like Natasha was staying where she was, but the room started spinning around her. She saw blurs of images whirling all around. Her working out. Fighting Rumlow. Her trying to dig at the cement walls with no success. Her crying to the moon at night and screaming for Steve in her nightmares. Her funeral and Steve breaking down on the monitor. It was like she was fast forwarding through her time in the cell, watching her body get thinner, her resolve get weaker, and the people who held her captive, become more cruel. And the entire time, Erskine's body was on the floor.

Honestly, she wondered if Bruce gave her a drop of acid in some water or something.

Wait...Bruce. Steve. Hypnosis.

She was remembering what she was doing. She was somehow gaining consciousness in her state of mind. That was good right?

Mess with reality. And it pushes back.

If Natasha was going to alter the state of her mind in her memories, her memories could do the same thing. Because at the core, what she was dealing with, was fear. And fear wasn't tangible, especially in the hypnotic dream state she was in. Fear could change right along with her consciousness.

"No." This time it wasn't a cry in desperation. This time it was a statement. "No. Steve, I know your waiting for me. I'm okay. I'm okay." Natasha calmed her nerves and mind, repeating that Steve was waiting for her, and she stopped focusing on Erskine's body.

More fast forwarding. More time in darkness, and the room was spinning like the gyroscope on Bruce's table. Her body grew dangerously thin and her hair longer. More time passed as the already dim moonlight faded from the room.

"It's okay. It's okay. Focus, Natasha. Just breathe. Steve is waiting for you."

"No, he's not."

A chill ran down her spine as Natasha panicked. Her eyes welled up with tears. It was Rumlow's voice. Natasha was on the cot...but now she was looking at herself.

Mess with reality, and it pushes back.

Natasha stared at herself, but her dream state was in her clothes that she'd laid against Steve in. Jeans and a sweatshirt. Standing in the cell. And she turned around, and Rumlow was only a few feet away from her. He was staring right at her present form, "You think your perfect soldier will ever want to be with the damaged spy again? Not after I'm through with you."

This wasn't right. This didn't happen.

But somehow, it was happening. It was fear morphing memories and reality, twisting them all around as terror infected her. Natasha tried to get away from him, but tripped over the cot and fell onto the ground. There was Erskine's body again, as she lay in his blood. She couldn't get away from what was holding onto her, "No! Steve!"

Natasha had no idea what to do now. This wasn't what she remembered. This was something completely different, and all she wanted to do was wake up.

No. Focus. That was Bruce's voice, telling her to focus.

Natasha shut her eyes tight as she heard the rattling of the door. Rumlow's boot barely missed her face as she rolled out of the way. She crawled over Erskine's body, knowing there was some hidden metaphor there for getting passed this wretched memory in her mind. She reached the door and yanked and pulled and tugged until it finally burst open and ran.

Running.

Running through her mind and time in the dark. She ran away from that cell and Rumlow into nothing. It was a void. She heard Rumlow laughing as another frightening voice followed her, "You can't get away from me. I'm already inside you because you created me, Yelena."

Oksana.

What Natasha didn't realize, was how much she was thrashing and yelling and screaming in the very real world as Steve held her down. How he looked to Bruce for guidance, sick with distress. And how Bruce told her to keep moving through the darkness.

Running faster and faster, as pressure built in her lungs, Natasha saw other agonizing images, but didn't stop. She couldn't stop...otherwise she would collapse and wake up. Somehow, she knew she had to keep going. So, she ran past an image of Steve at the cabin as she said goodbye. Steve in Russia as they both parted ways. Clint as she refused to tell him what happened to her. Some of her most painful memories in her life, attempting to draw her in and distract her. But she kept running.

She didn't know what she was running toward, but she knew she had to keep going.

A streetlamp finally appeared, piercing through the edge of darkness, and she ran faster as the laughing and voices got louder, "You think you want to know?"

Natasha turned her head for a second and screamed as Rumlow's face was right there. She shut her eyes and opened them back up as Alexi and Rollins joined him on one side, and Ivan and Oksana were on the other. She turned away, but they started reaching and grabbing for her, like she was in some horror movie, made up of all of her memories. Like she was trying to make it through the River Styx of her mind.

Focus.

She dug in and ran faster, like she'd been running all her life. Natasha was running for her family and friends and to get back to Steve. Suddenly, she was at the front door of a house underneath that streetlamp. Instead of hearing a rattling door, she was the one rattling it...but she didn't recognize the house. What she did recognize, was the name on the outside of it on the mailbox.

Rogers.

Natasha went inside, and froze immediately as the horrifying images had caught up to her. The ghosts in her memories followed her inside too, as Rumlow and Oksana taunted her. But Natasha walked away from them. She was able to walk away because they weren't what she was most afraid of anymore...

The Rogers house. But this wasn't Sarah's house. She knew Sarah's house in Brooklyn...well.

It was like she'd swallowed poison, with how the fear crept through her body as she took everything in. Because everything around her, unsettled her and hurt. Natasha took in false images everywhere of wedding photos and honeymoon pictures...and drawings. Of dishes in the sink, and a newspaper at the counter. Of men's and women's shoes by the door. Of a dog that came running down the hallway. And of a baby gate that closed off the upstairs. Before she knew it, Natasha heard her own voice off to the room at the side.

"No. This isn't real."

Natasha knew this was a distraction. It was fear's tightest hold on her as it kept trying to draw her in. But she couldn't help it. As afraid as she was, the site before her was like an enchantment. And she was pulled in by the allure of it all. The smell. The pictures. The sound of the TV on softly in the background with a ball game on. She walked into the living area, and there she was.

Natasha was staring at herself, standing and bouncing softly on her feet, holding onto a baby that was old enough to crawl. She couldn't tell the gender of the child sleeping in her arms. But it didn't matter. What mattered was that it was Natasha as a mother, and she looked almost ethereal. It was a picture of peace and happiness. And it was intoxicating as her eyes froze on the image in front of her.

The entirety of the scene made her drunk with a dream that was long gone.

Natasha was whispering sweet nothings to the sleeping baby, as the dog came and laid down at her feet.

"Nat? I'm home." Natasha's dream state looked back to the door where she'd entered into the unknown house, and now she saw the white picket fence outside. She made a connection. It was her dream as a child...what she saw on TV and all around her in America, that starkly contrasted her horrifying upbringing. That dream was somehow blending with her false reality now, as she watched Steve...her beautiful and wonderful Steve. She watched him come inside, take his shoes off, and scratch the dog's ears, who'd run over to greet him. He had a wedding ring on, "Hey buddy, where are they at, huh?"

She watched Steve walk right through her dream state and into the living room as Oksana whispered in her ear, "Stupid child. Don't you know, you'll never be free? Look in there and see what you've caused."

Natasha moved back to the room from where she just came and saw Steve. But he was frozen in panic at a very different picture in front of her now. He was terrified as he took in Natasha's image. She had blood on her hands, and the baby was gone, "Nat? What happened? Where's the baby? What did you do?"

"No. No. No!" Natasha pressed into her stomach and felt the pain that was there when she first woke in the cell. Steve stopped looking at the image before him now. He turned...and was staring directly at her, "What did you do?" He was now covered in blood too and collapsed before her.

Everything happened so fast.

The house quickly dissolved, and Natasha was back in the dark cell again. She couldn't help it as fear took hold, "No! No, Steve. Please don't leave me. Please. Where are you?" Natasha was shaking with violent tears, feeling paralyzed as she cowered in the corner on her cot.

And on the outside, Steve was struggling to hold her down, crying and begging Bruce to hurry, otherwise they were going to have to pull her out of it.

Natasha had fast forwarded through her worst memories from her captivity. She had revisited the torture and the beatings, the loss, and the funeral. She dove into her worst fears and her dream, with it dissolving before her very eyes. All while enduring the taunting voices that chased her the entire time.

And now she was right back where she started. Only her present self was gone. She wasn't staring at herself anymore because there was only one Natasha again. And she was back in the cell, reliving the torture firsthand. She was beyond weak and thin. So sickly thin, that she could barely move.

Another flash of consciousness. She remembered. It was the end.

The door rattled again, and Rumlow and Rollins came inside, talking about the Russians taking her to the cabin soon. She fought against them. First, they hurt her shoulder and then injured her ribs and lung, as they kicked and beat her to unconsciousness.

Except, she wasn't unconscious...not completely.

Focus. Watch. Listen.

They were carrying her out of the room, away from the darkness, and away from her captivity as she kept trying to listen.

"Rollins, hold onto her. We gotta deliver her in one piece. You know Ivan and Oksana have a lot riding on this with the Secretary."

"I don't understand why they have to listen to that fucking asshole. He's the Secretary of Defense. He doesn't run Poseidon."

"Rollins, you fucking moron. Secretary Pierce could have Ivan and Oksana and all of us killed within seconds if he wanted to. He handles the defense contracts for America. Which means, while supplying the entire U.S. Military with weapons from Stark Industries, he manages to hide the fact that he's supplying Poseidon too. He knows everything about every branch of military here. He's a big fucking deal."

"So what? Ivan still runs this part of the country."

"You're a fucking idiot, and you're gonna get shot if anyone hears you say that, Rollins. Seriously, Pierce knows more than Ivan and Oksana. He knows everything. The plan of attack. Where in the world it was going to happen. When. How. Everything. And it's all in his fucking house in the countryside, right outside of New York."

Timing for once, was working in Natasha's favor, if you could call it that.

Wake up.

Natasha shot up like she was struck by lightning, panting heavily with wide eyes. She was absolutely covered in sweat as Steve caressed her face from behind and held her, "Nat, it's okay. I have you. You're here with me and safe." But she was wild with her fresh memories. She stood up and steadied herself quickly against the end of the sofa as Steve tried to hold her. But she ran out of the room as she yelled at them to get down to the meeting room right away.

Literally 30 seconds later, she was chugging a bottle of water in front of everyone in the meeting room with Wanda, Bruce, and Steve joining. Steve was beyond worried, and Natasha was trying to catch her breath as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

"I can't explain everything that just happened because it was like a roller coaster through a horrifying nightmare. But it was so real. And I don't have any proof with what I'm about to say, but just know...that nagging feeling in my head over the last couple of weeks? It's the first relief I've had, because I remember what Rollins and Rumlow were talking about as they carried me out, to take me to the cabin that Steve found me in."

"Nat, slow down," Steve whispered.

But she didn't.

"There was this house in my dream. And I kept thinking that the light from the moon in my cell, kept piercing my eyes. And it was like my memory was taunting me the entire time. The house. Piercing. Pierce. I thought it was about the house I wanted with you, Steve. And the baby. And then I thought it was about the pain and torture, and 21 months, and Erskine, and everything I lost. And. And. And, right? But I had to get past all that. It was like I had to run and push past everything, to finally see what was mocking me all along."

Everyone waited with bated breaths, but no one dared to say anything as she went a mile a minute. Natasha looked around and looked baffled, that no one had caught on. "The person we've been looking for in the States. It's the Secretary of Defense. It's Alexander Pierce, yours and Ross's old war buddy, Fury. And he knows everything and has intel at his home in the countryside, outside of New York City."

It'd been a long day. It'd been a long several days, mentally and emotionally. Steve struggled, watching Natasha wade through Bruce's process. It was messy and not necessarily clinical. And the three of them weren't sure if the hypnotherapy actually connected her memories in a way, or if it was Natasha forcing herself through the ringer for three full days essentially, until something cracked.

But Natasha was high as a kite with relief because something had cracked, and she remembered what Rumlow and Rollins said at the end. That Alexander Pierce, the Secretary of Defense, was actually working with Poseidon and had been a deep cover operative for decades. He was at the helm of the American operations, but had so many ties worldwide.

The Secretary of Defense position, unfortunately, was a perfect cover. He already had military tie ins, and extensive knowledge that could leave each military academy and base vulnerable, as Natasha predicted. He oversaw the negotiated defense contracts. All with Stark Industries leading the way, and the Lemurian Star funneling the funds, which Sitwell had coordinated.

The deceptive pieces were falling into place. Sitwell had been the deep cover under Secretary Ross. On paper, anyone would've guessed Ross was the mole, with how big of an asshole he could be. But in reality, Ross was just that. An asshole to his core, who'd risen to the highest of ranks. Ironically, he wasn't very diplomatic, and had found himself in the position of highest diplomacy worldwide. But his error, was letting Sitwell rise with him.

Sitwell was the #2 for him, but was really the #2 for Secretary Pierce the entire time. Leaking and coordinating, and plotting, all through Poseidon's methods in hopes to return Russia to the leading world power.

All that was left for the task-force at this point, was to figure out the when, where, and how, Poseidon was going to attack. And according to Natasha's memories, that information was under lock and key at Alexander Pierce's wealthy estate home, just outside of New York City.

Time was ticking away, and with the attacks in Sweden and Australia, the pressure was that much higher.

Fury was livid...and hurt...and felt betrayed once again. Pierce, Ross, and Fury all went back. Way back, all the way to Vietnam. But as the dots connected, Fury pushed the feelings he'd need to deal with later, away. He needed to focus for his team and country right now.

Fury pulled the thread as soon as Natasha was finished revealing her memory, and had contacted his moles in the D.O.D. He somehow knew in his gut, that this was all true. And he had to get his people out now.

"The good news...is that we don't have to sneak into the Pentagon." Rhodey made the observation to the group before Maria countered, "No, we just have to break into the Secretary of Defense's mansion, recover files from god knows where inside, and then figure out how we're going to stop Poseidon from enacting those plans. Yes, good news all around."

Fury sighed as his insides were in knots, "Look, I know this seems like an uphill battle, but it always does in the middle. And I agree with Rhodes. It is good news that the intel isn't at the Pentagon. That's a barrier, I just don't think we could get past on our own right now. This should be a grab and go mission. Take out a few security guards. Possibly even when Pierce isn't there. We sneak in, grab the intel, and go. It may not be the best news, but good news comparatively. Barton, Rogers, Romanoff...Contact your team of mercenaries. We're going to need the help. All of them, along with us, and my people in the D.O.D. should be able to complete this mission."

Tony groaned, "I hate to ask the obvious here. But I will. Natasha, I believe you. I do. But how do we know that plans haven't changed and that Pierce still has the files at his house? How do we know that Natasha and Steve escaping the cabin six weeks ago, didn't send Poseidon into a tailspin, changing their plans?"

"Tony," Natasha started, "I was nearly dead. I don't know how I was even able to take in that conversation, but I did. And they had no idea that I did. And most importantly, Ivan and Oksana are on thin ice with Russia. Their methods are to separate and disseminate information yes. But, they've also always had the number one goal to return to their promised land…Mother Russia."

She took a quick breath, "And since they had a screw up at the cabin with me, they would be on their last leg with the powers that be, which includes Alexander Pierce and this man Zemo who is here from Russia. I can promise you, that Ivan and Oksana are looking out for themselves right now."

Clint nodded and added, "The last thing they would do, would be to raise a concern in the last month and a half, after Steve and Tasha survived. They wouldn't suspect she overheard anything, and if they did, they still wouldn't say anything. It would sign their death certificate for sure."

It was as good of a reason as any, and right now they had nothing else to go on except faith and trust in each other.

Steve and Clint were obviously convinced, but more importantly, others were too. Bucky and Wanda stood up, followed by Loki and Sam, then Maria and Thor, and Bruce and Rhodey. Then finally Tony looked over at Fury, "Well look at that, Nick. All of us with our wit and will and teamwork, finally came to a consensus I guess."

They worked the rest of the day and evening, and the plan was set for tomorrow. They didn't have time to wait.

It was late and they were back in their bedroom, and she hardly even waited for Steve to shut the door before her lips were on his. Steve was so impressed with her earlier, but he was extremely worried that she was trying to put the cart before the horse here, "Natasha."

She kept kissing him, nudging him towards the bed until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. She pushed them both down onto the comforter, "Natasha." Steve's voice was a little more hesitant for obvious reasons.

It'd been over two years for both of them, but this didn't feel right.

Natasha was not on the same page as Steve though. She crawled onto the bed, pinning his waist between her thighs, and stared down at him with a desperation in her eyes. But it wasn't right.

It was like she was trying to force this right now because she was worried about tomorrow. It was like she was convincing herself because she'd finally remembered...and remembered big, causing the mission to roll out tomorrow, that this somehow had to happen.

They'd been building to this for over two weeks now. With increased looks and blushes, kisses and touches, and thoughts that made the crimson in their cheeks spread all over their bodies.

Natasha pressed down onto Steve, and it felt good. Really good. But it didn't feel like them.

Hell, three mornings ago in the gym felt more like them than this did. And the only other time Steve could remember feeling anything like this was in Russia. Right when they'd gotten to the safehouse. When they fucked without talking, outside against the truck.

Both of them swore internally, that it would never happen like that again...ever. It was small, but it was true. And right now? It didn't feel like them, no matter how much Steve wanted her. Natasha seemed off right now from what she'd put herself through mentally over the last three days.

"Natasha, stop."

Natasha lifted her mouth from his neck and looked at him with wide and questioning eyes. She stopped moving her hips as his hands settled on her waist, "Don't you think we've waited long enough, Steve?"

Steve groaned as he found her eyes again, "I do, but waiting a little longer until I know we're both okay is worth it, Nat. I don't want this to be, because you think we're up against a clock and feeling pressure. We've reconnected and love each other. We'll be okay until the time is right."

She shut her eyes and bit her lip, knowing that he was right. She couldn't even put what she was feeling into words, but she tried, "I just. I feel like my brain is on fire right now with what I remembered today. I just want to take everyone down that's hurt us. And I feel like what we're doing tomorrow...is actually going to help."

"It's the start of it, Natasha. It is. But we have to keep our heads above water. I love you, and I don't want you to regret anything between us...ever."

Steve paused for a second before continuing, "Natasha, I don't think you should come tomorrow. I think you should stay back here."

Well if logic and reason weren't going to shoot a hole in this bucket of passion, then that certainly did. Natasha flexed her thighs out of anger as her body stiffened, "You aren't being serious, are you Steve?"

Steve took a breath and moved his hands down to her thighs. Maybe the timing was regrettable, but his words weren't, "I'm being serious. I don't think it's the right move."

She crawled off of him and sat on her knees on the bed, "The right move. But you think it's the right move to bring Clint and the mercenaries into the field. You think it's right to bring everyone on the mission tomorrow, except for the person that deserves to see Poseidon burn more than anyone."

This was exactly why it didn't feel right before.

Steve was sick with worry, and Natasha was combustible with energy from the events of the day. Their reconnection would've served more as a distraction than anything else tonight because their hearts weren't in it. It wouldn't have been right for their first time back together to be...a distraction.

Steve let out a sigh as he sat up on his elbows, "Natasha, you do deserve it. I know you do. But you've been through a lot in the last couple of days..."

Combustible was right. And she had every right to be.

Natasha narrowed her eyes at him, "Fuck that, Rogers. Don't treat me like I'm some fragile piece of glass. I was picked apart and tortured for almost two years by them. And it's really been going on my whole life. I can't sit around here when I could be helping, Steve. I don't just want to watch them burn. I want to be the one to light the match."

Steve blew out a breath and crawled over to her to sit on his own knees right in front of her, "Natasha, it's not that. I want that for you too. I do. I just...You tell me you're not some fragile piece of glass. You're not...but you were. You were so fragile when I found you. You were so light that I was scared you'd break in two if I dropped you."

Steve's voice was breaking, and it cut through all the noise inside Natasha. She looked at him kneeling in front of her. Steve looked like he was the one that could actually break.

Tomorrow would be the first time in over six weeks, Steve wouldn't be able to control the variables regarding Natasha's safety. He was suddenly supposed to be okay with her putting herself in danger again...after everything. But more than that, it was the first time in over seven years that they would be in the field together again.

Sure, there was their espionage filled night in Russia, but that wasn't this.

Steve wasn't just afraid. He was scared to death, and felt like he could combust with everything going on inside his own head right now. They'd found a way to escape the depths of hell and had saved each other...emotionally, physically, and in every other way imaginable.

But out there? Outside the compound walls, they knew all too well that things happen that they couldn't control.

"Natasha, I don't know what I would do if something happened to you. I scraped myself together somehow over the last seven years, into the shell of a man that I was before I found you. You've helped me heal...and feel my heart again. But if something happened to you, I couldn't…"

Steve couldn't finish his words because he was trembling as thoughts unraveled in his head.

The day was stripped away, and it left the two of them alone with each other. Somehow, it was what was needed for Natasha to calm and ground herself. Natasha had confronted some of her worst fears over the last few days under hypnosis. Steve was confronting one of his biggest fears now. He couldn't bear the thought of something bad happening to her again. They needed to find a way past this.

For the team. For each other. And for themselves.

Natasha found his hands and gently squeezed, "Steve, look at me." He did. He looked up with a desperation in his eyes, "I need you to be okay, Natasha."

She scooted closer and ran her fingers through his beard, "Steve, I am okay because of you. We are okay because of each other. And we're going to be okay, because of our love and trust in one another."

He turned into her palm as she ran her thumb across his cheek, "Steve, do you know how hard it was for me to run from the FBI over two weeks ago, when you asked me to? For me to leave you there, and spend the next few hours fearing everything imaginable, but trying to hold it together in front of everyone? I know Wanda and Pepper and Sarah, and pretty much everyone else were feeling the same way that night. But for me, it was the first time in such a long time, I'd felt that with you. And it was awful. It was absolutely awful, I'm not going to lie. I don't even think I'm being dramatic in saying it was a few of the hardest hours I've experienced. And I mean that, knowing fully what I've been through...What we've both been through, Steve."

His hands found her knees as he took a breath and listened, "Steve, do you know how I got through it? Besides letting Peter help distract me? Do you know how I saw Wanda and Pepper and your mother get through it?"

Blue met green again, as he managed to say through a shaky voice, "How, Natasha?"

Her lips didn't quite meet her cheeks, but she did attempt a smile, "Because I love you. And I trust you to do your job well. You're a damn good field agent, Steve. You were a Captain in the Army, and are an excellent tactician and think quickly on your feet in combat. I trusted that you were going to make it back to me, and you did. But more than that, I promised myself that night, that the next time you were going to go out and fight, I was going to be right by your side. Because that is when we're at our strongest."

Steve ran his hands up to her thighs as she continued, "Steve, for all my life, Clint and I fought side-by-side. And for five years, you gave me the biggest wake-up call, as we found a way to truly trust and rely on each other as partners in love, in the field. Melinda and Phil warned us of how difficult that would be. And it was, and still will be. But it was worth it because we make each other stronger, Steve. We always have, and we always will."

Steve knew she was right. Yes, he always worried about her in the back of his mind when they'd been partners before. But there was a strength from the foundation they'd formed that overpowered the fear. There was a comfort in knowing that your partner in life and in the field, had your back. That someone as strong and intelligent and capable as Natasha Romanoff, was right by your side.

They'd broken down every wall and shared everything over the last few weeks, so Steve didn't hold back as he voiced his last concern, "Do you think it'll be the same, Natasha?"

She had tears in her own eyes to match his. Natasha knew what Steve was asking. Would they be as strong together now, since time and distance and tragedy had separated them?

She didn't have to think about her response, "No, Steve. It'll be better. We are stronger together than we are apart. We always have been. And just an FYI, we were still pretty damn strong apart."

He chuckled, feeling a relief in his heart and stomach as he squeezed her thighs and let his heart breathe, "I know, Natasha. I do. And I trust you. I just…"

Natasha leaned forward to brush her lips over his for a moment, "You're scared, Steve. I am too, and that's okay. But I'm a lot less scared, knowing that we'll be fighting together. That we'll have each other's backs. That we can watch out for each other and help the team together. We are stronger together, and we'll be stronger than we ever were before. Besides. It's just a grab and go mission, just like Fury said."

Steve held her cheeks in his hands and chuckled, "Yeah, because that's always the case. Fury's missions were never what they seemed at Quantico, and this one won't be either. But you are right. We're stronger together, Nat."

He found her lips again as he pulled them down both to the bed, feeling that warmth and trust and strength between them. They fell asleep side-by-side, knowing that tomorrow when they woke, they would both go on the mission and would be stronger together.

Velcro ripping and fastening as vests were secured. Magazines and clips being checked and counted on rifles and handguns. Boots tapping as knees nervously bounced. Fingers being drummed on the table. Rapid typing on keyboards. Gum being chewed within tense jawlines. And the ever-consistent sound over the last two and a half weeks of Fury tapping his finger on his Morse Code telegraph.

Sounds filled the air.

It was late in the afternoon. The task-force had been going over the plans repeatedly for the grab and go mission at Pierce's estate this evening. The entire task-force was going on the mission, minus Fury, Loki, Wanda, and Bruce. They were running point on comms and overseeing technical and logistical matters from afar. They were the eyes and ears for the team, in case they needed a wake-up call in the midst of the mission.

Clint and his team were going too. Having the five mercenaries in the room, along with the task-force, was interesting to say the least. Jessica Jones looked like she wanted to fight Thor, just because he was the tallest in the room, and she wanted to show who was really boss. Castle and Loki were at odds from the get go. And Danny Rand was annoying the hell out of Tony, "Barton, this is quite the rag tag group you work with. Does this kid ever shut up?"

Clint laughed, I'm guessing most would say the same about you, Stark." Tony rolled his eyes and walked over to Steve, "These guys are seriously good, Rogers?"

Steve nodded but had his eyes on Natasha. She was ready before she came downstairs, and was one of the individuals currently bouncing her knee. Steve stood right behind her and just rested his hand on her shoulder, calming her instantly.

Fury grinned at the room of agents, former agents, and never would be agents, "Looks like a championship team to me."

Bucky stood by Wanda and gave her his wedding ring to hold onto before he asked, "Fury, where are these people that are supposed to be here from the D.O.D.? I thought you said you were pulling on that thread yesterday."

"Barnes, your timing was always impeccable. They just arrived."

Just as Fury finished, two women and a man came strolling into the room in similar tactical gear. Maria broke the sudden awkwardness, "Daisy? What the heck!" Daisy Johnson had grown up near Maria in New York and both women came from law enforcement families. Daisy immediately shot back, "Fury, you sneak. You didn't tell me Maria was on the task-force. Here I thought she was too big at Homeland to get her actual hands dirty in the field still. That's what your Dad tells mine at least."

Fury grinned, "Everyone, this is Daisy Johnson, Lance Hunter and Bobbi Morse. They have been undercover for the last few years for me at the Pentagon. Let's just say, I like to know who our nukes are pointed at, at all times. And these three have kept me in the loop."

In a thick British accent, Lance spoke up, "Yeah until yesterday, Fury. So much for going back to the D.O.D. now." Bobbi smacked him up the side of the head, "Don't mind him, Fury. He's been itching to get back in the field."

Daisy handed Wanda a USB drive, "You look like the woman who's really in charge here. This will help with being our eyes and ears. It's a detailed blueprint of Pierce's house and grounds."

Fury spoke up, "You all don't know this, but these three were my prized group of trainees before the 11 of you were. They graduated from Quantico a few years ahead of you, and were really good at off the book type projects. I decided to run with it. Coulson and May have been guiding them from afar for the last several years, while our team…readjusted to all the changes."

Castle grumbled to Jones, "Great, one big fucking family." She chewed her gum a little louder, not liking or caring at all, about the formality of this meet and greet, "I can't believe I'm agreeing with Castle, but can we get this ball rolling?"

The tension was high with the joined teams in the room, but they were all working towards the same goal. Finding the intel, so they could actually work towards preventing the attack.

Wanda projected the new blueprint. "Okay, these are great. I don't know if I even want to know how you got them since you were in D.C. and Pierce's property is outside of New York City."

Hunter was fired up as he spoke, "Pierce is a dirty old politician. Doesn't matter what country his loyalty belongs to...he's still got the same weaknesses as every other dirty old man. Women. Bobbi went back to the Pentagon with him and slipped a mickey in his drink after a fundraiser a few weeks back. It was after he'd had one too many, to avoid suspicion. My wife flirted with him way too much and got the data off of his computer in his office while it was still up. She said nothing else needs to be explained. So, I guess I'm not allowed to ask any questions."

"Lance!" Bobbi hit him again before Steve cleared his throat and stepped toward the table, "Fury, we need to bring them up to speed and get a move on. We have an hour drive. According to the three of them, we have a window of a couple hours to get in and out with the files, because Pierce is home this weekend but will be out of the house at that time."

Wanda spoke up, "Remember, whichever team finds the intel, needs to copy with photos if it's physical files. Or with your USB drives we have you if it's electronic." Sam asked, "And if the electronic files are encrypted?"

"That's what we are for, Wilson," Loki answered.

Steve took over again, "Maria, Rhodey, and Thor. You're with Murdock and Rand, covering the perimeter and taking out the guards on the grounds. There are two main floors. Team one, which includes myself, Romanoff, Wilson, Jones, Cage, and Castle will be on the second floor. Team two, which includes Stark, Barnes, Barton, Johnson, Hunter, and Morse will cover the first floor."

Steve nodded to everyone around the room, "There are 20 of us, with three of us back here with Fury. You know your teams. You know the mission. We find the intel, so we can finally take them down. We're stronger together and have each other's backs out there, no matter what. Remember, the start of Poseidon's end begins tonight. Whatever it takes."

Natasha and Bucky smirked as Sam chuckled, "You still doing those on the fly, Cap? Or did you finally write something down?"

Three black SUV's were ready in front of the compound. Three teams with a simple mission. To retrieve the plans hidden in Alexander Pierce's mansion.

A flurry of movement and good lucks were happening around Natasha. Wanda and Bucky going through their normal routine. Sarah and Steve. Pepper and Tony. Loki was trying to relax Maria, Sam, Rhodey and Thor, through his typical sarcasm. Clint was looking down at his feet nervously as Laura squeezed his hand and leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. Relationships and friendships, new and old, were comforting one another and promising that they would see each other soon.

And Natasha...was currently kneeling down and hugging a four-year old boy who didn't understand what was going on around him. But he could tell something was happening because his mom and dad were hugging and his grandma and uncle were doing the same.

"Are you scared Nat?"

Natasha cupped his cheeks and looked in his big wondrous eyes as he went on, "Mom and Dad hug when they're scared. Daddy doesn't know, but mommy cries when he leaves."

Natasha was trying her hardest to keep it together, "She does? Does she know that you see her cry, Peter?" Peter shook his head and suddenly looked scared too, but Natasha found the resolve inside her and took a breath, "Peter, can I tell you a secret?"

Peter nodded, "Good. Do you remember the very first night you stayed here with all these adults? When you met me and Loki?" Peter thought about what Natasha was asking, "You read me the book?" Natasha smiled warmly at him, "That's right. Well, you didn't know this then. But I was really scared that night. But do you know who helped me, more than anyone else?"

Peter looked confused as Natasha grinned and reached over with her finger to bop him on the nose, "You did. You were so brave that night and helped me. By just being you. You helped me so much by cuddling with me, and letting me read to you, and by becoming my friend that night. So, I need you to do something for me tonight, after me and your Uncle Steve and your Dad leave to go for a little drive."

"What?" Peter's voice was soft, and he was so attentive, like he would do absolutely anything in the world right now that Natasha asked him to.

"I need you to do the same exact thing for your mom and Grandma. For Pepper and Laura. For grumpy ol' Nick, and for Bruce and Betty. And even for Loki. I know Loki likes to pretend he doesn't get scared. But sometimes, those are the people who need that extra help from a strong and brave little boy. What do you think, can you be yourself for everyone, while we go for a little bit? Can you hug them and maybe even let a couple people read you stories until your Daddy gets back?"

Peter looked like he was trying to think about what Natasha had asked before he nodded, "Yeah, Nat."

Natasha pulled him into a big hug and saw Steve looking at her with a stoic expression on his face. Like he couldn't let himself dive into the emotions he was truly feeling right now. But when his eyes connected with hers, she saw him swallow and his fingers tighten a little on his tac belt. Natasha kissed Peter on the cheek, "You're so brave, Peter. Now go give your Mommy and Daddy another big hug."

Steve was standing right by Natasha now as Peter looked up at him and thought for a second before saying, "Uncle Steve?" Steve kneeled down by Natasha, "Yeah, Peter?"

Peter leaned up to Steve's ear and whispered loudly, thinking that Natasha couldn't hear him, "Nat said she was scared and I helped her. Will you help her too?"

The eyes and innocence of a child. They can sometimes see and hear so much more than what they're given credit for. Steve's eyes threatened to show how scared he was too, but he ruffled Peter's hair and hugged him again, "Yeah, Buddy. I will help her. I promise."

Peter stood in the middle of their kneeling bodies, and wrapped both of his arms around their necks and pulled them into as big of a hug as he could muster, "I love you, Nat. I love you, Uncle Steve." Natasha caught the side of Steve's eyes as they shut briefly.

She reached around Peter's back to grab Steve's hand. And just for a second, she let herself wish they could stay here tonight with Peter. With everyone. Within the protection of their little hug.

"I love you too, Peter."

Steve and Natasha said it together as Peter squeezed again and then ran off to have an even more heartfelt moment with his parents as he plowed right in between them.

Steve and Natasha stood up as he grabbed her hand, "You okay, Natasha?" She nodded her head as she took a couple of breaths to collect herself, "Yeah. I am, Steve. I need to be, because that is exactly why we need to find those files and figure out what Poseidon is planning. That is exactly why we need to take Poseidon down."

Steve needed to prepare mentally, but he pulled her into a quick hug, "You were wonderful with Peter, Nat. Can you promise me one thing though?" She looked back at him, "Anything, Steve." His hands tightened around the small of her back, "You were right. We're stronger together. You being in the field now is right. You're ready, and we're all going to be better because of it. But promise me, we stay together. I need that right now, Nat. I need to hear it."

They'd been on more dangerous missions in the past. Many of them. But this was the first time in seven years they were going to do this together again. And it scared the shit out of Steve, for all the reasons he'd already expressed to Natasha. She felt it too, as she squeezed his waist and pressed her cheek into his vest a little more, "I promise, Steve. I promise we're a team out there. No going off on our own. You and me working together. Stronger together."

He gave a quick kiss to the top of her head, "Your wearing two vests, right?" She nodded, "Yeah. We all are, Steve. Just in case they're using the same type of bullets Rumlow had. Let's get going so we can get back here even sooner, okay?"

They gave a final wave to Sarah.

On their way out, Bucky and Steve gave knowing glances to each other. And Clint came up to Natasha, "You got this, Tasha." She smiled back at him, "We both do, Clint. Besides...I'd hate for anything to get in the way of that kiss on the cheek that Laura gave to you." Clint rolled his eyes, "You're a pain in the ass, you know? Seriously though, we took a big bite out of Poseidon in Kazakhstan. We do it again tonight." She nodded in agreement, "Tonight, Clint."

Both sets of siblings parted ways as everyone made their way into their SUV's.

A little over an hour later, and after a very tense and quiet drive in three separate SUV's, the task-force parked on a hidden side road covered by trees. They needed to cut across another acreage for a quarter mile on foot to reach Pierce's estate.

Wanda, Loki, Bruce, and Fury were all in the meeting room at the compound. Wanda spoke through comms, "Quarter mile north, and you'll be able to sneak in through a side gate, just beyond the tree line. Loki's infrared scans show two guards at the main entrance. And one around the perimeter, circling the grounds."

Steve's voice came through, "And inside the house?" Loki answered, "It looks like three on the first floor. Probably house staff, Rogers." The three teams stood together as Steve, Tony, and Thor all looked at each other and nodded.

The air was crisp, as a clear sky of stars blanketed them overhead. Silent footsteps in the grass. Soft clicking of rifles on their backs. Rubbing of arms against Kevlar vests. It all created a rhythm of quiet sounds as they fell in step with each other. Within five minutes they were at the side gate. Steve nodded to Thor and his team as they went off toward the front entrance to knock out the guards.

Steve and Natasha looked at Tony, Bucky, and Clint as Rogers whispered, "You go east Tony and circle around from the right. Then cover the first floor. We'll come around from the west and cover the second floor. Remember, don't fire any guns unless it's an absolute last resort."

"Got it, Cap." Tony's team was off, as Natasha and Steve led their group of six in the opposite direction. If there was ever any question if Alexander Pierce came from money, all one would have to do is look at his estate.

Five acres of plush lawns, perfectly placed trees, a cobblestone drive leading up and circling around the front of pillars on the red stone mansion. It looked like something out of the old TV show Dynasty, and it was as if they could smell the money in the air as Sam asked "What the hell is a wealthy old dude who's had everything handed to him in life doing, working for the Russians?"

Jones snarked, "Power begets power, Wilson. There are old white dudes at the top of the food chain in most countries. It's the way the world is. Maybe Pierce gets along with the Russians more than his compadres."

"Fucking traitor," Castle mumbled. Sam added, "Cap, you see how pissed off Fury was when he found out Pierce was playing for the other side?"

Steve nodded, "Fury and him go way back with Ross to Vietnam. I'm sure Fury feels personally betrayed, beyond the fact that Pierce is betraying his country."

Steve stopped abruptly, and raised his fist in the air, as the team fell in line behind him. Thor and Maria's voices echoed in their ears, "Front guards are knocked out, Rogers. We're securing the perimeter now."

They were at the back of the house, and the remaining guard outside was smoking a cigarette on a very large patio. Just as he put the end of the cigarette into a flower pot, Steve snuck up behind him and knocked him in the base of the neck with his elbow. He put him in a chokehold immediately, and Natasha came up to the side of Steve and as she put a rag into the guard's mouth. He went limp within seconds as she looked at Steve and winked, "Chloroform is not going to kill him. Don't worry, Rogers."

He grinned, "Who said anything about being worried, Romanoff. Nice work."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Hey lovebirds, quit flirting over bodies on the ground." Natasha ignored him and pointed her head towards the back door that was left open by the guard.

Steve led the way inside the soft glow of the house. They were in the kitchen and dining area as Tony's team came through the front entrance. Clint immediately knocked out a butler, and Bobbi and Lance had taken out two maids as Tony nodded at Steve, "Fancy seeing you here, Cap." They scattered throughout the first floor as Steve's team made their way to the large staircase by the main entrance.

Steve and Natasha. Wilson and Cage. Castle and Jones. Two by two, they went up the steps to the second floor as Wanda spoke in their ears, "Okay there's eight bedrooms, three bathrooms, an upstairs lounge, office, study, and exercise room, and multiple closets. Spread your team out. Remember, you have under an hour according to Bobbi, Daisy, and Lance."

Steve pointed Castle and Cage to the left, and Jones and Wilson to the right, "Start at both ends and work your way back to the middle. Romanoff and I will take the workout room, study, and office."

Natasha and Steve started in the workout room and were done quickly. There were no pictures on the walls. Just a closet with weights and mats, with mirrors and a bike, treadmill, and elliptical machine.

They moved onto the lounge quickly as they heard Bucky say over comms, "Kitchen clear." Followed by Tony, "Dining Room clean," and Sam, "First bedroom clear."

Steve and Natasha made their way into the office, which is where they both would have predicted something to be. But fifteen minutes later after carefully looking over every nook and cranny in the dark, they were frustrated and said together, "Nothing here."

Four more bedrooms, two bathrooms downstairs along with the foyer and living room were all clear, and everyone's frustration was growing.

Steve had thought it last night, holding Natasha after she finally fell asleep. Maybe the intel wouldn't be here. Yes, Natasha heard Rumlow and Rollins talking around seven weeks ago, but there were a lot of factors going into it. Steve believed her, but it didn't stop him from worrying about her if this turned out to be a bust.

Natasha paused to look out the window, almost blending in with the shadows in the dark. Steve watched her shut her eyes and take a breath, trying to collect herself after hearing the growing concern in everyone's voices with each new space that came up empty.

He went up to her and put his hand on her shoulder, "This is gonna work, Natasha."

Her forehead creased as she swallowed and looked up at him, "I know it will, Steve. Because I don't know what I'm gonna do if it doesn't."

Steve angled his head towards the door, "Come on. Let's look through the lounge and then the study. We gotta keep moving."

Fifteen minutes later, every room had been cleared in the entire house except for the Study. The garage, the basement and even the pool house and two sheds outside had been checked. Nothing.

They were left with just themselves in the house and the study needing to be searched, as Wanda's voice crackled through their ears, "We have a limousine and two SUV's approaching from a mile away. Time to clear out, guys."

"Shit," Steve muttered. He looked at Sam, "Get everyone else downstairs, Wilson. I will stay back and look through the study." Natasha instantly stepped toward him, "The hell you will, Steve. You stay, I stay. Together, remember?"

Steve blew out a breath, wanting nothing in the world but to send Natasha off into safety with everyone else. But he made a promise and looked in her eyes. And he trusted what they'd said to each other and nodded, "Stronger together."

He looked back at Sam, "Natasha and I will stay back and finish looking in the Study. Get everyone out now, and back to the SUV's. If I tell you to drive off without us, you don't hesitate, you hear?" Sam nodded, clearly wanting to disagree, but he didn't. Steve knew what he was doing, and he trusted the leader of this team.

"Come on, Natasha. Let's make this quick." Maria bought them some time outside by putting on the security guard's jacket and hat at the gate, who was a female. She kept her head down, sat on her stool, and prayed that the drivers for the limo and SUV's didn't notice any differences. The male guard was laying behind a couple of trees, 30 feet away. The female guard she was impersonating was out cold, on the floor of the little shed at Maria's feet. Both were out of the line of sight.

"Good evening," The limo driver said.

Maria pretended to sneeze, to keep from looking at him and mumbled something about the chilly air catching her off guard tonight. The limo driver took off, smiling and wishing her well as Maria pretended to blow her nose next, remaining somewhat hidden from the two SUV's as well. They were pulling up to the front of the house as she snuck out and ran for the side gate, "Nice moves, Hill," Sam grinned as she joined up with him and his team as they ran off toward their SUV's.

It bought them some time. A few minutes maybe until one of the unconscious maids were discovered, or until one of the guards woke, but Natasha and Steve took every second that was bought as they rapidly looked through the study.

Steve reluctantly looked over at her, "Natasha...I don't think."

"No. No, Steve. It's here. It has to be." She looked back at him with her eyes glassing up, "It has to be, Steve. What are we going to do if we don't figure out when and where exactly, Poseidon is attacking?"

Steve wanted to pull her into a hug, but they didn't have time for this. The room had been looked over, twice now. And nothing was found. They scoured the entire mansion and grounds over the last hour, and there was nothing. Loki's voice broke through, "Rogers, Romanoff. Are you standing at the edge of the room?"

They looked at each other as Natasha answered, "Yeah, Loki we are. We're in front of a bookshelf."

They could hear Wanda and Loki mumbling over their earpieces as Steve's impatience rose, "Guys, what is it? We are in a pinch with absolutely no time."

Loki answered, "Okay, this is going to sound like something out of Sherlock Holmes, but why not...there's five feet of space in these blueprints...right by you. Like open space, according to what we're looking at. I think there is a room behind the bookcase. You're going to have to find a latch or lever of some sort."

"You've gotta be shitting me," Steve kept looking to the exit as he heard car doors outside the house now. Natasha was scanning over the bookcase frantically as Steve started looking too, "We look for another minute, Romanoff. Then we go no matter what. I know we need to find these files, but it's not worth your life."

"Then get looking faster, Rogers."

He did. They scanned over shelves and shelves of books and trinkets. A gold pocket watch on display. An old black and white photograph of Fury, Ross, and Pierce from their Vietnam days made Natasha's blood boil. And she about screamed when she caught another photograph, that was much more recent, with Pierce in the middle of a bunch of older individuals. And also in the picture, were Ivan and Oksana. Natasha took her phone out of her vest and snapped a photo of the images quick as they kept looking.

The minute was almost up, but Natasha found something. A weird addition of the 'Iliad and The Odyssey.' It wasn't the title, or the fact that the leather book had gold lettering emblazoned on the outside of it. It was the branding on the spine of the book. There was an image of a trident, a two-headed eagle, and the hammer and sickle. Just like Natasha's back. She had chills running down her spine.

"Steve look."

She didn't wait. They didn't have time to wait as Natasha pulled on the top of the book and heard the sound of metal rubbing against metal until a click followed. There was a false wall and they heard a latch from behind the case. The side of the book case shifted slightly.

"Son of a bitch, Steve."

Steve hit his earpiece, "Tony, can you hear me? We have a problem. We found something. Might be everything. But Pierce and his men are about to come inside. We are going to need a distraction to hold them off. If they find the maids knocked out, we're done for."

"You got it, Rogers. We're on it."

Maria, Thor, and Rhodey and their team were off in their SUV. The three of them would remain hidden with weapons in case something went wrong. Rand and Murdock would try to distract Pierce and his men for as long as possible.

The truth was, Murdock was the most eloquent, and Rand once came from wealth, before losing everything and finding the mercenaries. They were both unknown to Pierce, and at least had a shot of distracting him for a few minutes. More so than anyone else at least. Everyone else was known to him. And Jones and Castle didn't scream, 'welcome party' by any means.

Rand and Murdock had to take their doubled up vests off. And they found a sweater and hoodie in the SUV, to make themselves appear a little more normal. They would do their best to buy as many minutes as Steve and Natasha needed.

Steve and Natasha opened the heavy case like a doorway and found a server room inside as Natasha said, "Wanda, Loki...you're going to have to work your magic from afar because it's not physical files. They're electronic. Are you able to connect if I plug in the USB drive? It looks like there's a bunch of old servers that Steve can just copy on his own. But the main one that has a blue light on it? You'll need to hack into it."

"Plug it in. We're on it, Natasha." Loki had a sense of trepidation in his voice. The tension was felt by everyone as each precious second of the clock ticked away.

Steve was copying all the old files. It reminded him of how Natasha had done so in Quantico's server room on two separate occasions, "Wanda, how do we know that they won't be able to tell I'm copying these files on these old servers?"

"The drive I gave you wipes out the copy date. It's meant to copy without a trace. It's just the one that Natasha plugged in, that's giving us a harder time." Natasha kept looking over her shoulder, "That means it's the most important one. Tony, can you hear us? What's the status on Rand and Murdock?"

Tony was trying to sound calm, but Steve could hear how tight his voice was, "They just pulled the SUV up outside. Pierce's guards from the SUV's have their guns pulled, but Rand is talking a mile a minute, pretending like his vehicle is a half mile down the road...He told Pierce it's broken down...and his grandmother is in his car having trouble breathing. He said Matt picked him up, but he didn't have his cell phone on him. So, they're asking to use Pierce's phone to call for help."

Natasha sounded even more worried, "Wanda, what's the status?"

"Natasha, I'm almost in. Pierce had an eight-digit encryption key, but Loki got it." Loki's voice cut her off, "The moron actually used the word 'Poseidon,' for his key. What a fucking ego maniac."

Wanda spoke again, "Okay, files are downloading fast. We're at 75 percent already. Just wait another couple seconds...Okay got it. Make sure you don't leave a trace behind, the lights are off, no footprints or anything. If we're going to have the jump on Poseidon, Pierce can't suspect we have these files."

Steve and Natasha did as Loki and Wanda said, as she tucked the USB drive into her vest next to her phone, and nodded at Steve. They got out of the hidden room and shut the bookcase. Natasha pushed the 'Iliad and the Odyssey,' back into place until she heard the click, and they snuck out of the study.

They could hear voices talking through the front door that was open, but no one was inside yet, "I'm really sorry about this, Sir. You're so kind to help me out and let me use your cell phone."

Natasha panicked, "Steve, we have to steal something from downstairs that's valuable...so they think it's a break-in. Otherwise, Pierce might put it together, when he finds the maids and security guards knocked out."

"Bucky. Clint. Did you guys see anything on the first floor that looked really valuable?"

They both responded at the same time, "Everything." But Clint spoke again, "Tasha, I swear I saw a Faberge Egg. Like something from the old history books about Russian Czars or something. I swear I saw one in the living room downstairs."

"Okay, Steve. We gotta get that egg and then run."

They were in the living room 20 seconds later and found it on display on a cherry bookcase, next to a photograph of Pierce and his wife in Moscow in Red Square. Natasha wanted to yell at her worlds colliding in a twisted way, but she didn't. She took the egg, put it in her vest awkwardly, and they snuck out the back door. Dragging the security guard from the patio, they hid him in the bushes. And then Steve and Natasha ran to the side gate as Tony was telling Rand and Murdock to get the fuck out of there now.

Rand handed Pierce his phone back, thanking him again as he and Murdock walked back to the SUV. Pierce stopped him though, "Are you sure you don't want to come inside for a glass of milk, Son? You look awfully nervous. It might help you calm down while you wait for the ambulance."

Maria, Thor and Rhodey, were all on their backs. On top of each other practically, in the back of the SUV. Their hands were on their guns, waiting to make their move, but Murdock spoke up, "You know, it's good people in the world like you, Sir, that make me sleep better at night. But I was on my way home to my wife as it was. I really should get him back to his grandmother, so we know she's still doing okay. I think this young man would rather wait by her side. I would imagine you would want to do the same."

The moonlight illuminated Pierce as he stared at the men for a second, contemplating his next move. But he relented and smiled, "Of course. Of course. Forgive me. Have a good evening, gentlemen."

Rand got into the passenger side and Murdock was behind the wheel as they circled around the drive.

Natasha and Steve's chests were pounding. Their lungs were burning. And they were in utter shock that it had worked. They didn't know exactly what they had on the USB drive, but they knew it was something big. And they couldn't believe everyone was okay. They were cutting across the adjacent estate's grounds after they'd closed the side gate to Pierce's property, and Steve pulled Natasha into a quick hug, "I'm so glad you're okay, Nat. God, I love you." Natasha hugged him back, "I love you too. Told you I was right." He grinned as they took off jogging again towards the SUV's.

But they should've known better than to count their blessings so soon.

Minutes later, Pierce and his men would all go inside and discover the Faberge egg had been stolen as the maids were found on the kitchen floor. But it wasn't minutes later. Pierce didn't even need that as motivation right now. He just knew something was off about the men.

Pierce looked down at his phone to see that Rand hadn't actually made a phone call. Squinting his eyes for just a second, he waved over a guard, standing by his SUV.

"Batroc, get over here."

Georges Batroc, Pierce's lead security, came over and looked ready to fight. Pierce continued, "I just looked at my phone, and it turns out, that young man did not call 911. He didn't call anyone at all on my phone. Something is off about him. Take care of it."

Take care of it.

Pierce was not asking Batroc to go and make sure the man's grandmother was actually okay. Alexander was a cold man of power, who didn't hesitate to make a call of violence if he found himself questioning something. Batroc was only too happy to help as he nodded to his men in the SUV, and they were peeling away from the circular drive as quickly as Pierce had told him, 'Take care of it.'

Tony and Steve's SUV's received word that Rand and Murdock were safely away from the grounds, and they'd taken off in the same direction. But they should have known.

The other shoe was about to drop.

Because when they got onto the road that Murdock, Rand, Maria, Thor, and Rhodey were on, they were horrified as they watched the scene quickly unfold in front of them. Wanda was yelling through their earpieces, "Maria, you have an SUV approaching fast from behind you. You need to get away quick."

That was the last thing they remembered Wanda saying, because everything else happened so fast.

Steve and Tony turned on their high beam lights immediately, and drove side-by-side as they floored their SUVs. The next thing Steve saw in front of him was this man they didn't know the name of, attempt to, 'Take care of it.'

Georges Batroc stood up through the sunroof of his own SUV, that another guard was driving. Steve's eyes weren't playing tricks on him. The man was holding a goddamn Bazooka.

And Batroc didn't hesitate. But neither did the task-force.

Steve and Tony were shouting as they flashed their headlights and blared their car horns, trying everything they could to distract. Natasha leaned out her passenger side window and Bucky was doing the same out of his, as they neared Batroc and his men. Tony and Steve gave the go ahead, and Natasha and Bucky started firing at the vehicle in front of them.

The Bazooka was fired, just as Bucky hit the bumper and Natasha shot the rear window out, causing Batroc's vehicle to swerve. He got a shot off though, as the small rocket blasted into the night. But he missed Thor's SUV directly.

Where it did hit, was right underneath the SUV's rear end. A fireball burst from the impact as the rocket met the road. Yes, a larger explosion was avoided, because the rocket didn't hit the gas tank. All due to the task-force's quick thinking and gunfire. But, a wreck of unknown consequences was not avoided.

The blast caused the targeted vehicle to thrust into the air from behind. And gravity forced the SUV to flip, as it rolled several times before coming to a crashing stop on the road. Shattered glass and crunched metal surrounded the turned over vehicle, with gas leaking out of the undercarriage. The fire from where the rocket hit the concrete, lingered 150 feet behind.

Batroc's SUV had flown by and drove off into the night.

Just like that.

Just as quick as Steve and Natasha had said I love you to each other, thinking they'd gotten everything they needed. Just as quickly as Wanda and Loki and Fury and Bruce were all screaming into everyone's earpieces, demanding to know what happened. Just like that, a wake-up call was given, that Alexander Pierce was not to be trifled with.

They may have gotten the needed intel to try and win the war, but this battle was far from a victory. And the consequences were not yet known.

Steve and Tony's SUV's screeched to a halt as everyone barreled out, trying to find the five people who were just attacked.

And all Wanda and Loki, and everyone back at the compound could hear, was yelling and screaming and crying through earpieces. All they heard was the sound of several team members shouting, "Wake up! Wake up!"

End Note -

Something stupid and light-hearted and fun at the beginning of this. Crazy, right? It is possible for me to write that sort of stuff from time to time. 😉

But...Then I'm back to my regular M.O. for the majority of the update, with Russia and the Present Day. Things are heating up right now as we approach this steep hill with the roller coaster were on as the end nears.

No...In all seriousness, just like with each update drawing closer to the end, I'm left feeling bittersweet about Russia.

I'm really sad to close out the Russia timeline. It was fun and hot...and had action and fancy and splendor. It was an absolute blast to write, but...all good things, right? I hope you enjoyed the conclusion of that part of their history. A part that was small in timeframe, but oh so important in the grand scheme of things, when considering crossroads and ripple effects.

Your support and positive energy are such a big boost to me with each update. And with each new post, I can't thank you all enough, as we get another step closer to the end of our Scooby Gang's journey.

I love hearing from you, so let me know your thoughts on this chapter, since we closed out the Russia timeline, and as we edge closer to the finish line.

Have a great week!

Cheers! ~~ Kat