In the last twenty minutes, Natasha had had a brain scan and whilst they had the machines ready, a chest scan since that was where some of the first symptoms had began.
Bruce only grew more frustrated as he looked at the results.
The brain scan was of no use; showed only the fact the fluid was surrounding her brain.
As he looked over the results, the med team was already implanting a shunt to drain the fluid.
But the x-ray didn't show a reason for the haemorrhage.
Then the chest results.
Pleural effusions, air space disease.
It all added up that something had been inhaled but what, he didn't have much of a clue.
He abandoned the scans and met Tony in the lab, bent over the microscopes cluttering the desk.
"Anything from the lung fluid?" Bruce leaned over his shoulder to see.
"If I knew what I was searching for, then I would probably find something. But I'm blind here, Bruce."
The man nodded, checking his watch.
"I'll contact the search teams. The x-rays are back, there's shadowing on her lungs so it's likely cause by inhalation of...something."
"Send a copy of the scans, I'll have a look." Tony murmured.
Bruce quickly sent the pictures and touched his phone to his ear.
First, he spoke to the remaining members of the team, still searching the tower.
They'd found nothing.
Bruce told them to wear the face masks and hung up.
Next, the team searching the academy.
They were just getting to her locker and Bruce stayed on the line to listen.
"We might have found something."
"Open the video, let me see." Bruce held the phone and watched as they pulled the items down.
Work out clothes, water bottle, shower stuff, and a box.
"What is that? Open it." Bruce anxiously sat, tapping his foot as they got the box open.
Letters. Lots of letters.
"Just fan mail." The agent sighed. "Should we bring the bottles in for testing?"
But something niggled at Bruce's head.
Ever since the New York battle they'd been receiving fan letters.
The doorman at the tower would often bring a big bag up to the team and they would collect their letters and drawings and presents.
But Natasha, as the only woman on the team, was very popular with the young girls and teenagers.
She had more letters than almost anyone.
The box in her locker was small.
Meaning that Natasha either kept only a slight amount of her letters and threw the rest or...or they weren't fan letters.
What if they were hate letters?
"Bring everything, the box included. Wear gloves and the masks."
Bruce sat back, ending the call and moving to his laptop.
He spent the next thirty minutes researching until the team came back from the academy.
He had an idea.
Now he had to test it.
He made sure Tony was wearing the right gear before following his gut.
He emptied the letters out and had Tony examine them whilst he went to the microscope with the sample of the fluid from her lungs.
Please.
Please be what I'm looking for.
Twenty minutes later, he had his answer.
Positive.
They'd figured it out.
Bruce laughed, slightly maniacally, standing to collect the right medications.
Through the intercom came six words.
"Natasha has gone into cardiac arrest."