Stark's howl of of pain cut off and he careened into the roof of the building between Natasha and the shooter, where he lay unmoving. Her eyes flicked from Stark to the shooter. He was dressed in black tactical gear, black mask with mirrored goggles covering his eyes. They waited a beat and then moved, simultaneously, forward. He wasn't going to run away, he actually believed he could take her on and win; and at this point, Natasha wasn't sure where she stood. He had clearly studied up on all of the Avengers. He would have studied her fighting styles. He dropped the bow as they both jumped over their alleys, rolled as they landed and came up running, knives in hand.

As they came together she went low and he flipped over her. It was all instinct. They parried and blocked, getting in hits, small cuts from the knives. This all felt very familiar, almost deja vu. She blocked a swipe and realized why; he was fighting in Clint's style. Was that intentional? She thought of the arrow in Stark's chest and pushed down her disgust. The gall; to use Clint's memory against them. This needed to end sooner rather than later; her team needed help.

He took a fist to the face and stumbled back, growling, but not out of frustration or pain; she could hear the hate as it drove him on. He hated her. This whole attack was cold and calculated; every moment planned. Everything else was done at a distance but now he was in the thick of it, up close, and apparently, very personal. She could work with hate; hate blinded you.

They came together again, but it soon became clear that she was getting the upper hand. She hit his arm and was surprised to see his knife go flying. Realizing too late that it was a ploy, he grabbed her arms and twisted them to the right, bringing his left knee up into her gut. She doubled over, dropping her knife as he twisted her wrist further, and threw her to the ground. She rolled, freeing another knife from her boot.

His head twitched and he pulled out a gun.

"I'm not surprised." She mocked. "If you can't win in a fair fight; cheat."

His jaw clenched, hand tightening around the gun, ready to fire, when a roar filled the air. They both turned and she didn't have to see his eyes to know they widened when Hulk landed on the roof beside Stark.

Hulk looked down at Tony, then back up at the shooter, who was taking halting steps back. Hulk roared and charged forward.

The gun clattered to the floor and suddenly the shooter was holding a spray can.

Natasha watched in shock as he pulled a tab and a thin stream of liquid shot out twenty feet, hitting Hulk in the face. He howled and stopped, falling to the roof, rubbing at his eyes.

This was too much. More than him dead, they needed answers. Natasha dropped the knife and moved. Running up to the shooter, she jumped, using his shoulders as leverage to send herself all the way over him and twist around, grabbing him under his arm, she flipped him, throwing him to where the Hulk knelt, moaning and groaning.

"Hulk!" She yelled, getting his attention.

Hulk stilled as the shooter began to stand.

"To your left!"

Hulk's arm shot out, hitting the shooter and sending him flying toward the roof's door. He hit the wall, hard, and landed in a heap. She waited a breath. Two. But he didn't move. A hit like that, he was going to have one hell of a concussion, in the very least.

Natasha look a deep breath to sigh and ended up coughing from the pepper in the air. She couldn't believe it. He had used bear mace on the Hulk, and it had worked. Still coughing she raced to Stark's side.

"Stark? Tony, can you hear me?" She asked, finding it difficult to look away from arrow sticking out if the now dark arc reactor and she didn't dare to try and remove it. "JARVIS, activate safety protocol Widow 27-2."

There was some clicking as the helmet was released and she pulled it off.

Underneath, Tony was pale, his face twitching in pain every few seconds. At least he was alive. She didn't even know if Rogers and Thor… no. She needed to focus.

"Contact SHIELD, JARVIS," she said, into the helmet. "Tell them it's safe to come in."

I have been monitoring the situation and have already done so, Ms. Romanoff. They are sending two quinjets, both one minute out. Sir must be taken back to the Tower immediately. He has a failsafe programmed in his lab to replace the reactor if something like this should happen.

"How is he doing?"

JARVIS seemed to hesitate. The hit was very painful for him, that, coupled with shock, caused him to lose consciousness. The arrow tip is currently located in a cluster of wires that is shocking him. He will soon be going into cardiac arrest, he finished quietly.

"Should I try to pull it out?" Natasha asked, unsure.

No, it would better if took care of that. I will be controlling the arms in the lab.

"What about the suit, how is it doing?"

Other than the reactor the suit sustained no real damage. The backup power supply will be sufficient to power the speakers and allow me to monitor Sir's vitals until he is returned to the Tower.

"Good." She said, nodding. "I'm still here, I just need to go take care of the man responsible for this mess."

Of course, Ms. Romanoff, I will not keep you from him, JARVIS replied. Natasha didn't think she imagined a hint of malice in his voice.

Natasha stood, taking a shaky breath. Not ten minutes ago the team was fine, now, she and the Hulk might be the only one's that survived. She turned and looked at the Hulk. The spray seemed to be wearing off; he was sitting with red eyes, looking forlornly at Tony. As she walked passed him, she could feel him stand and lumber after her. The shooter was still out. Not surprising. Taking a hit from the Hulk could kill. He'd be feeling that for a while, and more, once they took him in for questioning. She noted the first Quinjet arriving and lowering to the street.

Hulk growled as she crouched beside the shooter and rolled him onto his back. This man had almost single handedly taken out all of the Avengers. She reached down and pulled off the mask and goggles, freezing as his face was revealed.

"No," she whispered. "No." There were a few more scars than she remembered, but Natasha would know that face anywhere. The impossible shots. The bow. The fighting style. She took a gasping breath and hurriedly stood. It couldn't be him.

The wind picked up as the second Quinjet slowly landed on the roof.

Hulk looked down at the former teammate in confusion. "Hawk?"