A's note: This chapter is for DopeyTheDwarf (over on AO3) who has been so kind and supportive of this world I've created. We authors really do appreciate comments. :) Dopey, I hope this chapter is close to your request for a hurt/sick chapter and that you enjoy it!

~Reese

All for One and One for All

Her mission was complete. She had taken down the targets and retrieved the information she was sent for. It should have been easy, it was a routine assignment for her, but everything had gone wrong almost from the start. It felt as if they had been ready for her, because there hadn't been a reason to have the brawler on hand, someone who could keep her busy with his brute force strength, nor was there a need for the marksman who took shots at her while she was busy fighting off the brawler. The brawler's first mistake was letting her get her hands on a thick heavy pipe, his second was looming over her when he'd thought he had her beat. She had a bullet wound in her thigh, so he wasn't expecting her boot to come crashing into his crotch with such force that one of his testicales ruptured, he hadn't expected the pipe upside his head either. The marksman's mistake was letting her get eyes on him after she shot the brute. The marksman had the audacity to look amused when she leveled the glock at him, a simple basic handgun held in the non dominant hand of a woman against his rifle and skill, with the space between them, he had the upper hand. That look of amusement faded quickly in the seconds that remained between the Black Widow's single shot and him noticing the trail of blood coming from the bullet hole in his forehead.

Her right shoulder was dislocated, and she was fairly sure there was a gunshot wound as well. The dislocation would be the easiest of her injuries to take care off, Natasha simply rammed her shoulder into the corner of a wall to pop it back into place, biting down on her lip to keep from screaming because the marksman had indeed gotten her in the shoulder too. Her lip was busted, but at this point she didn't count that as an injury to take stock of any more. After finding her favorite combat knife, a gift from her Mum that matched her favorite side arm also a gift from her Mum, Natasha shredded the brawlers shirt and belt to bandage the gunshot wound in her thigh, and to pack against the knife wound in her left side three fingers below the bottom of her breast. The shoulder wound was too hard to reach, and there wasn't must she could do about the broken ribs other than slow shallow breaths to keep from puncturing one of her lungs. The broken wrist wasn't a big deal, she'd finished her semi final floor routine with a broken wrist when she was fourteen. Her Mum had been both extremely proud of her and really cross with her over it.

With the injuries she was aware of taken care of well enough to finish the job, the Black Widow continued on. She used the pain to center and focus, taking down everyone in her path with lethal force. After retrieving the information, as she was trying to make her escape, she had no choice but to cause a rather impressive explosion. The problem was that the resulting fireball knocked out the areas communications, leaving her with no easy way of calling for an extraction. There was a safehouse in Minsk, but that was several hundred miles south of where she was. She had a safehouse of her own set up near the border, if she could get there she could at least treat her wounds and then cross into Latvia and call for a ride. It wasn't an easy trek, and Natasha was hurt a lot worse than she'd thought. Apparently the marksman had nailed her in the back, just above her kidney. Fuck. If she died in Belarus on a fucking fetch quest mission she was going to be pissed.

Sharon had been in Denmark when she got the call from Hill. Black Widow had missed a check in, satellite images show her target location was a smoldering wreckage, and her last location was somewhere in northern Belarus. Sharon was the closest agent to go in and try to locate the Black Widow. Of course Sharon went, Hill might have kept using her code name, but this was Natasha! Her Natasha! Belarus wasn't a hostile country, but it was far too close to Russia, and Russia was not Natasha's biggest fan. There were a lot of people in Russia butt hurt over the American spy who liked to dismantle their Red Room training program while using the code name Black Widow. Natasha did it to honor her birth mother, the original Black Widow, but the Russians didn't care about Natasha's reasons. In fact if they knew Natasha's reasons she'd be in even more danger. Sharon had to find her cousin and get her the hell out of the soviet block.

If Natasha didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be found. Unless of course you'd been partially raised by the same woman who'd raised Natasha. Wither Aunt Peggy had done it consciously or not she had taught two little girls how to navigate and survive in world out to get them, and she'd done it without scaring them, but rather empowering them. With the foundation laid in place by Aunt Peggy and the special training she and Natasha had reserved from Fury who'd sent them to some of the same specialists all across the world to acquire skills regular agents wouldn't have, Sharon was really Natasha's only hope of being found. Eastern Europe was full of abandoned factories both above ground and below. A massive rabbit's warren of tunnels and chambers lay beneath many countries that were once part of the Solviet Union. Starting at Natasha's mission site Sharon worked her way towards the board, and into one such rabbit's warren.

Though she might want to think of it more as a spider's web. A normal search and rescue unit might have made it past the first set of traps Natasha had laid out, but she doubted very much they would have made it through all of them, let alone have reached the bunker where she eventually found her cousin laying motionless and pale on an old metal army bunk. Sharon ran over to Natasha, pushing away her panic and fear and allowing her training to take control. Natasha's breathing was slow and shallow, her skin pale, clammy, but the light trembling of her muscles meant she probably had a fever. There was clear evidence littered around the bed that Natasha had used several blood stopping measures, empty packets of blood clot powder, used syringes and applicators, but there was a lot of powder on the floor and bed, and only part of the continents of the applications were used. There were also a lot of blood soaked rags and bandages that Sharon found hard to ignore. "Fucking hell, Nat, what happened?"

Reaching for her field knife, a gift from Aunt Peggy, she began cutting away her cousin's uniform so she could get a look at just how badly Natasha was wounded. Then she opened her med kit and got to work removing bullets, stitching up the holes left behind as well as the knife gashes, some of which would need more medical attention than she could provide in the field. As she worked, Sharon constantly checked Natasha's pulse, it was weak but there. "Stay with me Nattie, you can't leave me in this world alone to deal with Tony, that's just mean."

Once Sharon was finished with what she could do medically, including jabbing a syringe full of antibiotics and another full of pain and fever meds into Natasha's unwounded thigh, all she could do was sit back and wait for Natasha to wake up. She couldn't possibly move Natasha on her own, not with her injuries, so she would need to find a way to get them an evac. Whatever the hell Natasha blew up took out their comms, so she would have to figure something else out.

Someone was in the room with her. Natasha could sense it, even in her half conscious state. She was lethargic, her mind clouded, so she had to concentrate on very carefully moving her arm, the one up against the wall. Somewhere in her foggy mind she realised that she could feel the roughness of the old wool blanket against her skin in a way that meant parts of her uniform were missing. Her stomach twisted, and she would have frowned if she had the energy to do so. She could feel the person getting closer, could hear the gentle footfalls, the soft hum of a female voice, and if she'd been in a better frame of mind she would have recognized the scent that washed over her as the person reached for her.

Honestly Sharon should have expected this and checked around the bunk for weapons while she was dressing Natasha's wounds, but she'd been so focused on stabilizing her cousin she hadn't thought to do so. Now that she had the muzzle of a glock pressed up against sternum, Sharon was really berating herself for such a stupid oversite. "Stand down Agent Carter."

The voice reached the part of Natasha's functioning brain not clouded by pain and drugs, and when she realized who it was she could have sobbed. She didn't pull the gun away just yet though, a voice could be mimicked, but an enemy wouldn't know to use her real name. "Sharon?"

"It's me Nattie." Sharon reassured as she gently took the glock from her cousin's hand.

Natasha struggled to open her eyes but once she managed she saw her cousin's smiling face looking down at her, her long blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, her big brown eyes full of concern. Natasha did her best to smile to ease some of her cousin's worries, but it was a rather weak grin at best. "You were always the best hide and seek seeker, Shar-Bear."

Sharon groaned and rolled her eyes. "I hate that nickname, Nattie-Cat, and you know it."

Now Natasha knew for sure it was her Sharon. She let herself fully relax and even tried to sit up, but Sharon's firm hand stopped her.

"Easy, Nat." Sharon said gently. "Whatever blood you got left in that body of yours is still in there because of field stitches and dressings, not to mention the fever, so you've picked up an infection to boot. So just stay put."

She hated staying put, but moving caused her enough pain that she was seeing bright lights in her vision. "How'd you find me?"

"Not easily." Sharon admitted as she reached for a clean cloth and a bottle of water. She did her best to wipe away some of the sweat and grim on Natasha's face, as well as making a lame attempt at cooling the redhead down a bit. "Nice little hide away you have here little spider, not exactly on the SHIELD list of safehouses though."

"Can't always reach official nav points." Natasha moaned softly. "And sometimes a girl just needs a little privacy."

"Privacy huh?" Sharon repeated, a teasing grin on her lips. "Does the red army aethstetic do it for you and Agent Barton?"

"Eww! Sharon, gross!" Natasha moaned in both annoyance and pain. "I'm not sleeping with Barton! Yuck! He's my best friend!"

While she had Natasha distracted Sharon looked over her wounds. Stitches were holding, and not for the first time Sharon began to wonder if Aunt Peggy had taught them needle work as little girls to teach them strong suturing skills. "Ok, but you did sleep with that assassin sent to kill your target. The one SHEILD's never been able to pinpoint, long hair, prosthetic arm."

Natasha groaned again, though she couldn't be sure if it was because of the subject matter or Sharon poking at her wounds. "That was a mistake, I'll admit, but sex in the heat of a fight, it's really fucking hot. You should try it some time, though Tripp doesn't seem like the fight and fuck type."

"Tripp and I decided we're better as just friends." Sharon said softly while opening a little tube packet of electrolyte powder, which she then poured it into a water bottle. After shaking it up she put a straw in it and had Natasha sip it. She also decided to change the subject. "How'd you of all people manage to get so trashed, Nat? No one gets the best of the Black Widow these days."

This time Natasha growled in anger rather than groaning in pain. "They were prepared for me."

"Fuck." Sharon replied. "Then Fury's paranoia isn't just Fury being Fury?"

Natasha shook her head. "With Mum retired there are wolves at the door, Sharon." Reaching out she grabbed hold of Sharon's wrist and looked up into her eyes, her Carter brown eyes. "We can't let them take down SHIELD, Sharon. We can't let those bastards tear down and tarnish Mum's life's work."

"We won't, Nat." Sharon promised with just as much conviction as the redhead. "But we can't do anything until we get back. Communications all over the area are out, not even our comms work, especially down here."

A bit of a giggle passed Natasha's lips. "Yeah, that's my bad, bigger boom then I'd expected."

"Big booms aren't excaially the finesse you're known for Black Widow." Sharon teased.

Natasha shrugged and then regretted it instantly. "Sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

"And sometimes that do is a hostile forgin enemy agent." Sharon teased.

"Fuck you, Sharon." Natasha said with a painful chuckle.

The girls formulated a plan that consistent of getting Natasha on her feet and out of the bunker to a place where they could call for an evac. The struggle came from Sharon wanting Natasha to get on her feet without swaying and turning pale as a ghost, while Natasha wanted to go now. While other agents normally yielded to them easily, they were both Carters and could be equally stubborn, and couldn't intimidate each other. Their Carter standoff came to an end however when they felt the floor and walls rumble around them. Sharon helped Natasha into a sitting position, handed her two glocks, and then pulled her own weapons. There was only one way in, and cover between it and them. Something was coming and they were ready for it.

"Wait," Natasha said through teeth gritted in pain. "Do you hear…"

"Ozzy Osbourne?" Sharon picked up, head tilted to the side. "Is that Crazy Train?"

A huge smile broke out on Natasha's face because she knew exactly who had made the place rumble and was now advancing on their position.

Stepping into the room Jarvis had led him to Tony throws up his armored hands when he finds himself face to face with two Carters packing pistols. "Whoa, whoa, Carters, it's just me!"

"Tony?" Sharon said in disbelief as she stared at Iron Man with his hands raised as if the bullets from their glocks could actually hurt him.

"Yeah, it's me, in the suit." Tony replied as his mask pop open.

Sharon relaxed, lowering her weapons, relief washing over her features. "Not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but what the hell are you doing here?"

"Fury called me when Shar-Bear's tracking beacon went off line." Tony replied before explaining that the bunker and tunnels around them had been built to block out radio waves, it was a communications dead zone. "Anyway, Fury's excat words were, and I quote, "I've already lost one fucking Carter, Strak, I can't loss another one! The old woman will take my only good eye, Stark! Fuck, that old bulldog will have my fucking head if I loose both of them! Find those fucking girls, shellhead!" end quote." Tony pouted. "Shellhead was kind of rude, don't you think?"

Sharon just shook her head and chuckled. "Come help me with Nattie, shellhead. I hope you brought more than just yourself, she'd not in any shape for a piggy back ride."

"Jarvis is landing a med jet as we speak." Tony replied.

When Tony reached down as if to pick her up and carry her Natasha growled at him. "Don't even think about it." She warned him. "Help me up. I can walk."

"She can't, but it's Nat, so…" Sharon cut in as she gathered up all of their stuff, making sure to leave no evidence they were even there behind, especially anything that might have Natasha's blood on it.

"How'd you find us, Tony?" Natasha asked, frowning as her cousins settled her between them so they could get out of there once Sharon was finished cleaning up.

"Apparently when Obie had me kidnapped by terrorists Aunt Peggy lost her shit." Tony began as they made their way out of the bunker. "If she's likely to burn an entire country to the ground to find me or Sharon, she'd raze the whole damn planet to the ground to find her baby girl, so I imprinted both of your bio-signatures into Jarvis's systems. I figured that'd keep the world safe from Mama Bear Carter." Tony looked Natasha up and down, his heart hurt and his anger bubbled up. She was in so much pain, barely keeping herself conscious as they used the shortcut Tony had created by blasting a hole close by. "Can't say I'll get out of her way when it comes to whoever worked you over, Nattie. Fuck, I'll help."

"Me too." Sharon agreed with a firm nod.

Once on the med jet Tony stepped out of his armor to pilot while Sharon settled Natasha on a cot. She was able to get an IV going, which helped her feel a little better, but she wouldn't be completely at ease until they got the redhead into a medical center. From the cockpit Sharon could hear Tony asking Jarvis to play their shared playlist and smiled fondly as he playfully bitched about one of Natasha's choices coming up first.

"There's ballet shit in my AC/DC." Tony whined as some song by Tchaikovsky that they'd probably seen Natasha dance to quietly filled the jet.

Natasha snorted, and then groaned in pain. "Wait until he realizes I added opera last week."

Sharon smiled down at her cousin, taking Natasha's hand in her own, and holding it the whole way back to New York. "Sleep Nattie, you need it."

The poor agent at the front desk had no idea how to handle the irate British woman demanding to be let through to Agent Romanoff's room with a civilian in tow. Agent Henderson couldn't figure out why the former Director was here, especially since the current Director was already back there. The uncertainty on the woman's face only made the anger covering up Peggy's fear that much worse. "If you check Agent Romanoff's," She said the name through gritted teeth, "file you will see that my name as well as Angala Marintelli are listed as her emergency contacts, Agent Henderson. We are also listened as the ones who are allowed to make medical decisions for her. Now, Agent, open the bloody damn doors or I'll do it my damn self."

"It's alright, Agent Henderson." Maria Hill's voice called out. "Director Carter and Ms. Martinelli have clearance."

Peggy hated that it took Hill to get the Agent to do as she was told, but what could she really do? She's the one who made the decisions that led to her retirement. Taking a deep breath as she and Angie followed Hill back to where their daughter was Peggy said, "Thank you Agent Hill."

"Not a problem Ma'am." Maria replied easily. "Henderson's new enough that she doesn't know better." She turned to look at the woman she held so much respect for and smiled warmly. "Nat's going to be alright, Ma'am. They've just brought her down from surgery so she's still out cold. Sharon and Stark are with her, haven't left since they brought her home."

"Sharon and Tony reterved her?" Peggy asked, her gaze shifted from Hill to Fury who stood outside what she assumed to be Natasha's door.

"13 was the closest agent in the field when Romanoff missed her check in." Fury reported as he turned to look at his mentor. "Sent Stark in as backup, still testing him out, seeing if he'll play nice with others."

"Sending him in to back up Nattie and Sharon isn't a fair test, Nicholas." Peggy replied.

Angie snorted. "Those three have been a team since the girls were old enough to get into trouble."

"If you want to know if Tony's going to play ball you have to pair him up with people he doesn't initially like." Peggy advised.

"Hill." Fury said simply.

"Already making a note of it, Sir." Maria replied.

"I'm going to go in." Angie said, reaching for Peggy's hand and giving it a squeeze before disappearing into her daughter's room.

Once it was just the three of them in the hallway Peggy simply said, "Nicholas?"

"Wolves at the door, Ma'am." He answered.

Peggy sighed, nodding her head in understanding, and then she too disappeared into Natasha's room. Her breath hitched at the sight of her baby in the medical bed, wires attaching hidden leads under her gown to the machines beeping out her heartbeat softly, the plastic tube tucked under her nostrils, Angie sat beside her with her hand in Natasha's.

"She's going to be alright, Aunt Peggy." Sharon reassured her aunt as she stepped over to stand beside the woman.

Peggy pulled Sharon into her arms and hugged her tightly. "Thank you for finding her and bringing her home, love." When she let go of Sharon she hugged Tony as well. "You too my darling, thank you."

"We didn't do anything she wouldn't have done for us, Aunt Peggy." Tony replied.

Sharon nodded her agreement with a warm smile for Tony. "Three Musketeers, right T?"

Tony raised his fist and Sharon bumped it easily. "Damn straight."

Angie laughed. "More like Huey, Dewey, and Louie."

"Tony's totally Louie." Sharon said with a firm nod and warm smile.

As Natasha started coming around she carefully took in her surroundings through what she was hearing, the smells in the air, and the warmth of a hand in her own. The sounds and smells clearly told her she was in a hospital room. She could hear the soft rhythmic beeping of her own heart on the monitor and the faint hum of the air circulation system. Like with any medical setting the smell of antiseptic and powerful cleaning products clung to the air, but there was also a familiar scent, a comforting one, one that belonged to the hand holding hers. Her Ma's hands were soft and a little more plumb compared to the hand holding hers now. The palm pressed flush against her own was calloused from years of holding the textured grip of a gun, the middle finger had a noticeable bump created by the way she held her pen, there was a scar in the pinch of skin between her index finger and her thumb from a knife fight Natasha wasn't allowed to know the details of.

It was a bit of a struggle to speak and open her eyes but Natasha managed, though her voice did come out as a softly whispered croak. "Mad?"

Peggy had managed to sit by her daughter's bedside without a single shed tear, no matter how much her heart ached at the sight of her little girl weak and helpless. Hearing her daughter's voice, hearing how small and frightened she was as she asked her simple question, Peggy could no longer keep the burn in her eyes at bay. She let the tears well as she shook her head. "No, of course not, poppet. Why would I be cross with you? You completed your mission and you came home alive, perhaps a little worse for wear, but we've all been there, my darling."

"Ma?" Natasha asked next.

"Scared out of her wits." Peggy said honestly. "Pissed at whoever thought they could dare touch her angel, and rightfully so, but not at you." Peggy stood so she could lean down and place a kiss on Natasha's forehead. "That's from her. Sharon's taken her home for a bit but she'll be back as soon as she knows you're awake." Then she kissed her daughter again, letting her lips linger at Natasha's hairline. "That's from me, my darling."

Natasha relaxed with a soft sigh of relief, and let herself smile a rather dopey smile. "Mummy?"

Peggy couldn't help but smirk. "Yes poppet?"

Natasha's mind flashed back to all the times she'd been hurt as a child because of one activity or another, or because she'd been a little reckless in her playing. Each and every trip to the hospital had come with the same reward for being a good girl who needed a little cheering up. "Gelato and biscuits please."

Peggy laughed and gave her girl one more kiss. "Orange chocolate gelato and jammy dodgers?" Natasha nodded and Peggy reached for the phone to call her wife. "Anything else?"

Natasha was quiet for a moment as her mind ran through everything that had happened over the last few days, and everything that would happen in the coming weeks. "Can I stay with you and Ma when they let me out of here?"

"Of course you can, Natasha." Peggy said firmly, looking down at her daughter and watching the emotions play out across her face. "Baby, you never have to ask to come home, just come home. Your room is always waiting for you, and if it's bad enough, and you need to, you're never to big to crawl into bed with Mama and me."

"I'll keep that in mind." Natasha sighed and closed her eyes. Then she smirked at the thought of her reputation and how people would react if they knew she was thinking about snuggling with her mothers, one of which was THE Peggy Carter. She giggled a little at herself, which she quickly blamed on the drugs in her system, and then said a silent prayer of thanks that she still had the option of crawling into her parents' bed for comfort. If not for Sharon, she might not be here for that luxury. If not for Tony they might still be in that damn bunker. Wiggling the fingers of her other hand Natasha felt what she knew would be there, the small, smooth beads of her Ma's rosary. Tightening her grip she sent off a simple, 'Thank God for cousins.'