Natasha opened her eyes to cream-colored curtains and yellow walls. Her eyelids felt heavy, and her head felt like it'd been stuffed with cotton. There was a buzzing in her ears, and a soreness on her left side. Her shoulder, arm, and fingers felt stiff, and her ribs felt tight. She took a slow, cautious breath to inflate her lungs and test their durability as her mind struggled to recap the events that had brought her here. Wherever "here" was." She remembered the BASRAC unit, finding Coulson, chasing Garrett; then the explosion. God... the explosion.
A quiet groan escaped her lips.
"Nat?"
Steve perked up from the chair he was sitting in. It was positioned off to the side of the bed, tucked slightly away in the corner. It was small for his large body, stiff and uncomfortable, but he'd hardly left it. He'd been too worried to even sleep, let alone get up and roam about the strange, small house they'd found themselves in. Now, he was pushing himself to a stand and pulling the chair closer to the bed. Natasha watched him, some groggy confusion on her face.
"Hey," he said quietly as he settled back down into the chair. "How are you feeling?"
Natasha touched the side of her head, where a bandage was in place. She winced a little, closing her eyes for a second. Another groan left her.
"That good, huh?" Steve chuckled, though it did little to lighten his expression. Worry knitted his brows together and pulled at the corners of his mouth.
Nat forced herself to sit up. It took some effort, but she managed to slide up and lean her back against the wall. Someone had dressed her in a loose fitting t-shirt and some sweatpants. "Where are we?" She asked, turning her eyes to Steve. "Coulson… is he?"
"Coulson is going to be just fine," Steve assured her. "It's you we were worried about. Natasha," he fixed her with a serious look.
Here it comes, she thought.
"You could've gotten yourself killed."
Defensiveness bubbled up inside of her, chasing away the rest of her grogginess and replacing it with anger. She was not in the mood for this. Grabbing a fistful of blankets, Natasha flipped them off of her so she could swing her legs over the edge of the bed. She placed her feet on the ground and sat facing Steve for a moment.
"I didn't think letting that psycho get away seemed like a particularly good idea," she said coolly.
"The mission was to get Coulson." Steve said.
Heat rose up the back of Natasha's neck and coiled around it like a snake. "There was no mission!" She exclaimed. "We aren't S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore, Steve. We aren't Avengers anymore!"
Steve felt the bite of her words. He knew what they insinuated. They weren't Avengers anymore, and part of that was his fault. He couldn't help but to feel like Natasha blamed him for that. He didn't fault her. How could he? It was his fault that she'd been put in that position, after all, forced to choose between sides. He looked down for a second, keeping his expression calm despite the feelings swirling around in his chest.
"You're right," he finally said, "but that doesn't give you an excuse to almost get yourself killed."
"Because you're the guy to give lessons on recklessness." Natasha growled. She pushed herself to a stand, perhaps a bit too quickly. Pain stabbed into her side and made her head swim. Before she knew it, the world was spinning around her.
Steve was there in an instant. He shot up from his chair and grabbed her, wrapping an arm around her waist and securing her against him.
"Natasha-"
"Don't," she warned.
"Listen to me." He tightened his grip just a little. Just enough to keep her there. She was so close, just inches away. He could feel her anger and pain radiating off of her. He could see it swirling around her deep green hues. He could see his own reflection there, too. Where she wore anger, he wore fear.
"I'm sorry." He said emphatically. "For making it seem like I don't trust you. For doubting you. I shouldn't have done it."
"Then why did you?" She asked. She kept her sharp gaze on his face, refusing to look away or back down, even at this proximity.
"I don't know," he admitted with a shake of his head. "A lot's happened. There's a lot I'm not so sure of anymore, but what I do know is that I couldn't have done any of this without you. These last few years… you've helped me more than you know. I've been… confused about some things. Unsure. I see now that I shouldn't have been. I don't want to lose you, Nat. I-"
A knock sounded at the door and shattered the little bubble that Natasha wasn't even aware had formed around them. It was like someone had taken a needle to a water balloon and popped it right over her head. It doused her and left her cold and breathless. Steve reluctantly released his hold on her, and Natasha found herself feeling even colder in his absence. She slowly sat back down on the bed, too confused and shocked to really say or do anything. She just stared at the door as it opened and a woman she didn't recognize walked in.
"Oh!" She exclaimed quietly. "You're awake. Good!"
She was a short, slender woman with thick, dark hair and olive skin. A pair of glasses rested low on the bridge of her nose. There was a stethoscope draped over her shoulders. Natasha assumed that this meant she was the doctor who had patched her up.
"I'm Dr. Shadid," the woman said, confirming Natasha's suspicions. She stepped forward and extended a hand. "How are you feeling?"
"Better than I would be if it weren't for you," Natasha replied, shaking the doctor's hand. "Thank you."
"Happy to help," Shadid said. "I'd like to check you out, if that's alright?" She turned her brown eyes up to Steve.
Steve had been in a bit of a daze, himself. Only now was he clearing his throat and bringing himself back into focus. He offered the doctor a small smile. "Right," he said. "I'll give you some privacy."
Natasha's eyes followed him as he left the room and closed the door behind him. Her gaze stayed on the door, even after he was gone. What the hell just happened? One second they were arguing, and the next he was telling her he didn't want to lose her? Had she been hurt that badly? Did she really give him that much of a scare? Natasha felt guilt settle in her gut. Maybe she shouldn't have been so harsh.
"A good man, that one." Dr. Shadid said. She took a pen light and shone it in Natasha's eyes, testing her pupils. "Poor thing was worried sick about you. Rightfully so, too." She pulled the stethoscope from around her neck and placed the eartips in her ears.
"I hate to think what would've happened from that blast if he hadn't caught you. Deep breath, please."
Steve walked the narrow hallway and out to the living room, where Sam and Wanda were sitting. Coulson was still resting in another room, and probably would be for a while. Technically, Natasha should've been, too, but Steve wasn't surprised that she was too stubborn to even sleep. Sam and Wanda looked up when they saw him.
"How is she?" Sam asked.
"She's awake," Steve offered. Beyond that, he wasn't sure. "Doc's taking a look at her now."
"Can I see her?" Wanda asked. She had been surprisingly worried about Natasha the whole time.
Steve gave a nod and a small smile. "Sure," he said. "I'm sure she'd like that." He hoped she would at least like it better than she'd apparently liked seeing him.
Wanda stood up and left the room. Steve took a seat on the couch where she'd been. He sank into the cushions, settling like a deep weight into the ocean. He had changed out of his gear and into a t-shirt and jeans. The cut on his arm was bandaged, and he was in no shortage of discomfort from slamming into one of those storage bins, but he'd fared a lot better than other members of their party. Still, he was tired. For a lot of reasons.
"What's on your mind, man?" Sam asked from beside him.
A humorless chuckle left Steve. He shook his head and looked over at Sam. "You know… I'm not entirely sure. There's a lot there. Between the Accords, and this stuff with S.H.I.E.L.D. and Garrett…"
"And Romanoff…" Sam said.
"What?"
"Oh, come on man." Sam shot him a look. "Are we really gonna do this?" He turned a bit, angling his body toward Steve. "I know how worried you were."
"We were all worried."
Sam ignored him. "I see the way you look at each other. You've been through a lot together. More than most. You argue like a damn married couple…" He let his words trail off and just looked at Steve.
Steve glanced over his shoulder, as if afraid that Natasha would come walking down the hallway at any second. He'd already shot himself in the foot enough. The last thing he needed was to do it again. Still, he couldn't be dishonest with Sam. Sam was a good friend, and he just wanted to help. Sighing, Steve returned his gaze to his friend.
"I don't know," he said. "After Peggy, I just…"
"Peggy's gone, Steve." Sam said, not unkindly. "And, look, I didn't know her, but if I did… I'd bet she wouldn't want to see your ass moping around for the rest of your life. She'd want you to be happy. I think you deserve that much."
Steve wasn't so sure what he deserved. He felt like he'd done a lot more harm that good lately. Especially when it came to Nat. Besides, just because he felt some way didn't mean that she did, too. Leaning forward, Steve placed his forearms on the tops of his thighs and just stared off into space for a moment. He thought about Peggy and what Sam said. He knew Sam was right. He knew Peggy wanted him to be happy. She'd said as much before she'd passed away. In those brief moments of clarity, she would tell him that he needed to live his life. Maybe it was time to start taking that advice.
"Even if I did want… that," Steve said, glancing over at Sam, "I don't see how it's possible. At this point, I'm pretty sure the only thing Nat wants to do with me is to punch my lights out."
That pulled a little laugh from Sam. "That's because you're treating her like a piece of glass, Cap. She's not a flower. She's more capable than my ass, I know that much. Through all this… craziness we've been through, Natasha has always been right by your side. As an equal. I don't know why the hell some people think that caring for someone means standing in front of them at all times, but that's not how it works. Especially not with a woman like that."
Steve gave Sam a thoughtful look. "If you know so much about women, why are you still single?"
"That is a choice, my man." Sam said, clapping Steve on the shoulder a bit too roughly. Steve just clamped his teeth together and ignored the pain that reverberated down his spine. Sam stood up and smiled down at him. "I'm gonna take a lap; make sure things still look quiet out there."
Steve nodded his understanding, and his thanks, and watched Sam go. When he was alone, Steve sighed and leaned back against the couch. He rested his head against the back cushion and looked up at the ceiling. Sam was right. About everything. Somewhere along the lines, Steve had gotten it in his head that Natasha needed shielding. That she needed some kind of direction when, if anything, it was Steve who needed it. He'd been doubting her. Maybe it was his fault that she'd felt the need to go after Garrett. Maybe she'd been trying to prove herself to him. Regardless of the reason, Steve knew that, if he wanted Natasha to trust him again, he needed to give her reason to. He still believed in her, perhaps now more than ever, and he cared about her… more than he thought. That didn't have to change things, though, did it? It could just… make them better. Maybe.
He must have dozed off because when Steve opened his eyes, he wasn't alone. Natasha was walking out into the living room with Wanda in tow. She had changed into a red tank top and a pair of black pants. She had small bandages covering some of the cuts on her arm, but the gauze from her head had been removed. Doctor Shadid had stitched her up pretty well, it seemed. She was still moving a bit slowly, though. Thankfully, Wanda stayed close, just in case. Sam was sitting in a chair, flipping through a magazine.
"Caught you sleeping on the job, Cap." Sam chided.
"Give him a break," Natasha said, much to Steve's surprise. "Your grandpa probably dozes off on the couch, too."
That part wasn't so much of a surprise. But it was good, right? She was being sarcastic, so… maybe she wasn't still mad? It was hard to tell with her. Her true feelings could easily be hidden beneath layers of false humor. Steve stood up to make room for Nat and Wanda on the couch. As they sat down, Doctor Shadid emerged from the kitchen with some tea. Her place wasn't very big, but it was accommodating. More importantly, she kept it stocked with all the things needed to fix up both Natasha and Coulson. Granted, nothing was as state of the art as what had been seen in some S.H.I.E.L.D. medical facilities, but it'd been enough to get them by. Shadid set the tray down on a small table in front of the sofa. It held four cups along with the teapot, some cream and sugar cubes. Wanda poured a cup for Natasha before making one for herself.
Wanda had been monumental in helping Natasha get back on her feet. She'd sat with her after the doctor finished her check-up, and while they might not have had any heart-to-hearts like Sam and Steve, there had been a sort of silent understanding and support that Natasha very much needed. Wanda didn't ask questions. She just sat with Natasha and showed her that she was there for her. Then, when she was ready, she helped Natasha get up and get dressed in something slightly less pathetic than pajamas. Natasha appreciated her more than she could say. She did just fine with Sam and Steve, but it was nice to have another female presence around. Wanda had become like a sister to Nat in a way. She was especially nice to have around after the whole… thing… with Steve. Whatever that was.
"How is Coulson?" Nat said as she took the cup.
"Alive," came a voice from the hallway. "Thanks to you guys."
Everyone turned to see Coulson limping his way out of one of the bedrooms. Sam and Steve made their way to him immediately, helping him over to the chair that Sam had been sitting in. The agent was wearing enough bandages to make him look like a mummy, and his arm was in a sling. He had some pretty severe bruising on one side of his face, and his eye was a bit swollen. With the help of Sam and Steve, he slowly lowered himself into the chair and released a heavy sigh.
"Should you be up?" Natasha asked.
"I could ask you the same thing," Coulson said with a smile. "I heard about the little fireworks display."
Natasha's gaze dropped to her teacup. Seeing this, Steve cleared his throat to take the attention away from her. "What happened with Garrett?" He asked.
Coulson sighed. "Well, I was working a case when he showed up. Preliminary stage; small team of men with me. Garrett and his group wiped them out without hesitation. Took me along with them. Seems he enlisted the help of some locals, along with a few of his own men. Makes me think he doesn't have much of an operation right now."
"What did he want?" Sam asked.
"Information," Coulson said. "About the project that made him the… handsome thing that he is today. It was a deep, deep underground project. A Hydra cell within S.H.I.E.L.D. was conducting it at the time. When S.H.I.E.L.D. found out about it, they tabled the project and arrested the people working on it."
"So, Garrett was looking for data?" Natasha asked.
Coulson shook his head. "The data was destroyed," he told them. "Garrett wants to know where the doctors who worked the project are being held. He wants to… 'liberate' them."
"So they can recreate the project," Nat surmised. She glanced up at Steve and saw what she expected to. Disdain, frustration; worry. Steve had a very personal history with super-soldier-creating projects. Not all of the results turned out as good as him.
"Did you give him anything?" Steve asked. He felt terrible for doing so, but he had to.
Coulson seemed to understand that. "No," he said, "but it might not matter. He took my phone, and seeing as I was… incapacitated at the time, I couldn't order data wipe until it was too late."
"So he may have access to the system." Natasha said. She furrowed her brow and looked down again, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
"I've already called for the relocation of the prisoners," Coulson said, "but it could be risky. If Garrett gets his hands on just one of those doctors, he could rebuild the whole operation from the ground up."
"Yeah," Sam grunted, "and the last thing we need are more of him running around."
"So, what do we do?" Steve asked.
"You do nothing," Coulson replied. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for what you guys did for me, but we can't risk getting you involved any further. This is a S.H.I.E.L.D. case. Things weren't exactly quiet at the docks, either. You guys are going to need to lay low for awhile. I'm sure Fury will do everything he can to help, but in the meantime, you're going to need to be careful."
Natasha looked up again. She could tell by the look on his face that this wasn't going to fly with Steve. She could tell that he was already involved in this one and had no intention of backing out. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to, either. There was no guarantee that S.H.I.E.L.D. was even equipped to handle this right now. The organization was practically in shambles in the wake of the Sokovia Accords. There was a very real chance that Garrett could slip through the cracks. If that happened, it wouldn't be good for anyone. Natasha leaned forward and placed her cup on the table. Then, she slowly stood up. She caught Steve's gaze and nodded toward the hallway before walking off in that direction. Taking the hint, he followed her. They were back in the room that Natasha had woken up in, though the feelings that had been there before seemed pushed to the back burner for now. Nat tucked her hands into her back pockets and fixed her gaze on Steve.
"Coulson's right," she said quietly. "We do need to lay low for a bit, but…" she was quick to continue, seeing the way Steve was already preparing to argue, "we don't have to lay low forever."
"I can't let Garrett get away with what he's trying to do," Steve said. It felt personal now. For multiple reasons. One of those reasons was standing right in front of him.
"We need time to rest; to heal. We can gather information, get our ducks in a row, and then we can make our move. We don't have the kind of clearance we used to, Steve. We need to be smart about this."
Steve slid his baby blues to the side for a second, thinking. He folded his arms across his chest and took a deep breath that he felt all the way down his spine. His very sore spine. After a few more moments, he nodded.
"Okay," he said. "We take some time, recoup; see what we can find about Garrett. Then, we go after him."
A half-smile formed on Natasha's face. That was the answer she wanted to hear. She tucked a stray lock of red hair behind her ear and gave a small nod. Before they headed back out to the others, though, there was something else she needed to say. It had her shifting her weight from foot to foot a bit nervously and rubbing her lips together a few times. Her green eyes fell to the ground before slowly lifting back up to meet Steve's.
"Doctor Shadid told me… what you did. Sounds like you saved my life. I wanted to say thank you for that."
Steve shrugged, his arms falling to his sides once more. "You would've done the same for me." He said with absolute certainty.
Natasha grinned. "I would've tried," she said. "But I think between me and the steel storage unit, the steel would've won."
Steve felt a smile pulling at his face. "Well, I guess let's not find out, then." He held her gaze for a few seconds. Then, he nodded towards the doorway. They needed to get back out there and tell Coulson what he wanted to hear.
So, that's what they did. Natasha walked out first and reclaimed her seat on the sofa next to Wanda. Steve leaned against the wall, arms across his chest once more. He let Natasha do the talking. She was better at smoothing feathers than he was. She told Coulson that they had a few places they could go. Doctor Shadid offered them to stay with her another day. Beyond that, she couldn't guarantee they wouldn't be found. That was alright. She had helped them all immeasurably, and no one wanted to put her in a more difficult situation than she was likely already in. Coulson would be making his way back to the states as soon as he was able to which would, hopefully, be in the next day or so. Steve didn't think they'd be sticking around to see him off. Natasha insisted she was well enough to travel, and no one questioned her on it. As a result, the plan was to leave that evening.
Not long after, while some were resting, Natasha found Doctor Shadid in the kitchen. The woman was drying some dishes, but stopped and greeted Nat while a smile when she saw her. Natasha returned the gesture, though she seemed a bit uncomfortable.
"What is it?" Shadid asked.
"I feel… really bad asking this," Nat said. "You've already done so much for us, but… I was wondering if there was one more favor I could ask of you?"
"Of course!" The doctor answered immediately. "What do you need?"
Natasha extended a small piece of paper to her. The doctor took it, unfolded it, and read what was written. A smile spread across her face, and she slowly lifted her gaze to meet Natasha's.
"I think I can handle this," she said.
