Another chapter! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, I was a bit lost with this chapter as I wanted to get everyone on Team Cap back to the compound asap so that the story could continue so sorry in advance if this chapter is not my best!

As usual; I own nothing!

There was a tense silence among the quinjet. No one knew quite what to say and as a result, they said nothing. It became clear enough after a few hours that while silence wasn't exactly the enemy of this fight, it was certainly not an ally; yet none of the many occupants of the jet could leave their thoughts enough to even try and strike up an empty conversation.

At the helm of the quinjet sat Hawkeye, aka; Clint Barton. While the jet was more than capable of acting on autopilot, the archer could not find the strength to leave this journey to any GPS or sentient A.I. Instead he felt as though this was a trip that he had to make with his own two hands, so that he knew they would all arrive safely at their location without any external interference. Trusting his hands to know the way better than his drifting mind, Clint allowed his eyes to wonder over to the left of him. Catching the eye of Sam Wilson, the two men shared a concerned look as they looked at the weary Captain – or once Captain – slumped defeatedly in a chair.

Usually, Steve Rogers was an unmovable force in only a figurative sense, but his listless body and ashen face gave him the appearance of a forlorn stone, he seemed to be so still that all signs of life came only from his deep intaking and exhaling of breath – which seemed to be acting more like a coping mechanism rather than anything else, there was no life in him; just a sense of defeat and a deafening shame.

Clint knew the feeling, he had sat by Natasha's hospital bed more than anyone else. Threw burns, torture, broken bones and fractured minds; the two of them had never been far away from their injured counterpart. When he had taken some time away from Shield, after Loki and the battle of New York, Clint had worried that Fury would either start sending Natasha back out alone on a full-time basis. He had also worried that if that was not the case, she would end up partnered with someone who would be completely indifferent to the Black Widow's injuries; and while that probably suited Natasha, Clint (and Laura) Barton would be dead in the ground before he allowed the red head to start allowing back a blatant disregard for her own life.

When Natasha had first been brought to Shield, her idea of redemption seemed to be synonymous with the idea of dying for a "good" cause, or, as Clint preferred to see it, acting like human cannon fodder.

Eventually, through general care and multiple stern warnings to bench her from field work completely via Coulson, Fury and Hill, as well as multiple chats with May, her therapist husband; Andrew, and Laura's trademarked glare, it appeared Natasha had finally started having some general regard for her life.

That was an easy maze to lose himself in, so Clint had made it his policy that every time Natasha fell, he would be there by her side to help her climb back up to the top. That meant sitting by every hospital bed making sure she knew how glad he was to see her up and conscious before informing her that any period of R&R would be served at his farm with their family; all of whom were just as excited to see her.

That had been natural to them both for years; he had worried when he had retreated back from Shield after Coulson had died and Loki had taken a demolition ball through his mind, that Natasha might also struggle more than she was letting on but she had told him to get over himself before literally dragging him by his ear to Fury's office to request some time off. "Now go spend some time with Laura and your kids, Barton. I'll come visit when I can."

When she had sauntered through his front door two weeks later and announced with a raised eyebrow that she had been partnered with Steve Rogers and was now deputy of an entire S.T.R.I.K.E team; he'd be lying if he said he hadn't had mixed feelings.

Firstly, who the hell needed a S.T.R.I.K.E. team that was more than three people? How was a team of that many going to get any actual spying done? Where they going to break into a flash mob to create a distraction? Where's the practicality, Nat? To which Natasha just rolled her eyes and said that not everyone could be as efficient as Strike Team Delta had been. Caught in their memories, they had raised their glasses in a silent toast to Coulson before he moved on to his next point.

"Captain America, Nat? Really?"

The red-head opposite him shrugged. "He has the best skills out of everyone else. I need someone who's going to watch my back and trust me to watch theirs. Who else is going to do that?"

Clint thought for a moment. "What about Bobbi? Or May?"

"May doesn't do field ops anymore, not after Bahrain; she's in administration now; she barely does any piloting. Besides, I'm not making her go back when she isn't ready, Clint."

He nodded, he had seen what the aftermath of Bahrain had done to May. After his time spent under Loki's mind control, he knew a little bit of what it was like to question the risks of the job, he could understand why May had pulled back. Natasha was right.

"Bobbi?" He tried.

"Is great, but if I spend any more time hearing about her ex-husband, I might end up choking her to death mid-mission and that's a lot of unnecessary paperwork."

He laughed, Bobbi's divorce to an ex-mercenary was a large focal point of complaint in her day-to-day life, even now that they had been divorced for about six months. It wouldn't be so funny however, if Clint and Nat didn't know Hunter and hadn't spent about six weeks of an op in Beijing hearing pretty much the same stories of how much of a "raging she-devil" Bobbi was.

By the seventh week the humor had long worn off, it was easy in hindsight to see why Natasha might not want to do that again.

"Fair point." He agreed. "But why Cap? I didn't really get the vibe that he was ever cool with the whole spy-thing and, no offence, Nat, but you're like the definition of a spy. You're the spy."

She rolled her eyes, refusing to take offence where others might find it because Clint had never offered her an unkind word; despite however much she might have earned it. "I don't think he is, I just think he wants to do some good and I think he knows that he stands a better chance of doing it at Shield then he does if he goes back into the Army."

"You mean because Shield has finally told him that Peggy Carter is alive, and he knows that she founded it alongside Howard Stark, right?"

"Right," she paused again, "plus Fury wants me to help him integrate back into the world."

"How are you supposed to do that?"

"No idea," opposite him at the table, he could see her eyes cloud over as her brow furrowed, "to be honest, I think he thinks that I have some sort of idea what Cap's going through."

"But you think you don't?" He queried.

Natasha nodded, keeping her eyes away from his. "I don't know what it's like to have something in my past to miss – to hang onto. I was so angry about it all, Clint. I could have set fire to the whole of Russia and not blinked and eye. That was who I used to be; sometimes I think it's still who I am. I don't think I want him to be like me, Clint. I don't think I'd want that for anyone."

Suddenly, everything clicked in Clint's head; Fury had partnered Natasha with Rogers because he wanted them to learn from each other. While he'd have pitched it to Nat as her helping Cap find his feet in the modern world, it was natural that the Captain would do the same for her. He'd help her find and appreciate her worth. Not that Natasha needed anyone to tell her how great she was – she knew that she was good at her job – but she'd spent a large part of her life being victim to the choices and speculation of others. While it was likely that Cap wouldn't appreciate what Natasha may have done in her past, she could see the world clearer than most people and a damn good agent. He wouldn't focus on her past; he'd just help her feel comfortable in her present.

To Clint, that was the best possible outcome.

Not that he would tell Natasha any of that. This was something she needed to figure out for herself. Reaching over, he placed his hand on hers and smiled. "Hey, if you ever want to escape you can always come here. Just give the guy a chance, Nat. The chances are you'll be kicking more ass than ever – hell, we both know that you're going to beat that S.T.R.I.K.E team into shape whether they want it or not. Add to that Caps intense knowledge of military drills and you'll be able to kick back and relax come any ops. Just make sure that the old guy doesn't break a hip once he defrosts properly."

Natasha's lips twitched as she tried to supress a grin. "Careful, if Laura hears you, she'll make you apologise for being so mean to a National Icon; you need to teach your children to respect your elders, Clint."

They both laughed a little before the mood sobered again. "He's a good man, Natasha. Fury wouldn't have partnered you with him if her didn't think you were the perfect woman for the job."

"I know."

She squared her shoulders and within seconds, she was back to be her usual strong self. It wasn't a mask; he knew that much. Natasha didn't have masks in her personal life, she had faces; she had once told him that she had spent so long being without a personality but constantly having to pretend to have multiple ones that sometimes, when she was trying to be herself, she changed – like flipping a light switch. She had to match her personality and expressions to her emotions. After spending a long time coming to terms with it, Clint recognised that she was merely telling him that she was feeling much more confident than she had ten minutes previous.

They spent the rest of their time in a comfortable silence until the sound of a car pulling up towards the house reached their ears. Again, Natasha's posture changed as her entire form softened and a gentle smile strung lights together at the heart of her eyes. Standing, she looked over to him.

"Coming?"

He smirked. "Not today, I don't want to stand to the side-line as my kids reject me in favour of their Aunt." He took a long sip from his beer as the sound of the car pulled to a stop. "But by all means, go and remind my children of how boring a Dad I am."

Natasha didn't need telling twice and almost sprinted out the front door.

As he watched her leave, Clint could only hope that her new partnership brought her a new sense of life the way their previous one had given this entire family.

If not, well, he would happily win the award for uncoolest Dad of the year for beating Captain America's ass back to the 1940's.

Sighing, Clint looked back at Sam and shrugged his shoulders; this was a situation that couldn't be helped until they arrived back at the compound and even then, he really doubted that anything would get better.

Steve hadn't said much since he had answered the phone call back in Wakanda. Although they had moved on from there a month or two ago, King T'Challa had been gracious enough to offer them reprieve there should they find themselves in need of it. Their previous mission had been successful but tiring and both Clint and Scott had felt an unrelenting need to see their families, so they had all retreated to Wakanda for some rest, recuperation and two long and emotional Skype calls.

They had all been gathered together to outline plans for their departure in the next two days when the phone that Steve kept consistently in his line of sight had started vibrating. Almost immediately, Cap had shot up and crossed over to where the phone was, a slight fumble the only sign that he was as tense and nervous as they all were.

That had been when everything had changed. In the few minutes Steve had left to talk to Tony in private, they had all wondered about what it could be. What had come along to threaten the world enough that Tony Stark had reached out across the unspeakable void and called Steve Rogers?

It turned out that it hadn't been something threatening to tear the world apart as it was something that would tear their world apart.

As soon as Steve had uttered to them the terrible truth, they had jumped into action. Clint could barely remember what had led him to this moment, but he knew that he had practically begged T'Challa to send someone – anyone – to Laura and the kids. He needed someone he trusted to be there for them; to break any news that he couldn't. T'Challa had agreed instantly before stating that he would be joining them at the compound in a few days in order to remove any suspicion towards Wakanda for hiding potential fugitives. Looking across the sky and towards the direction of the slowly rising sun, he sighed again.

"Are you quite alright, Agent Barton." Vision asked, Clint figured that he must look as worn as he felt if a sentient android could tell that he was struggling.

"Not really," it was truthful, everyone knew that he was struggling so there was no point in lying, "I just want to get to the compound as soon as possible."

"I understand. I know that you and Agent Romanoff have a cherished kinship."

He smiled. Whatever else had happened in the fallout of the Accords, he and Nat had always – and would always – have their friendship. That would never change regardless of whether they agreed or disagreed; Natasha had said it herself, regimes fall everyday – but that didn't mean that their friendship had to fall with it.

Looking back over his shoulder, he smiled at Vision before allowing another moment of seriousness fall between them. "How's Wanda?"

"To be honest, Agent Barton, I believe she is taking the news with a great sense of difficulty."

That was easy to believe, Clint had never spoke with Natasha about Wanda specifically, but he knew that she had taken it upon herself to help train and strengthen Wanda and her powers in whatever way she could. Control was Natasha's speciality and from what he had seen of Wanda's powers from the falling of the Avengers, she had improved greatly.

Plus, he had seen Natasha give Wanda the same look she gave his kids. That look of complete pride in someone that you absolutely believed in – not that she would admit it; sentiment was rarely her style.

Vision followed his gaze and continued. "In truth, I believe that Miss Maximoff – Wanda – has her own sense of kinship with Agent Romanoff that had led her to take the news quite badly. I worry that she has been reminded of her previous losses."

Clint agreed, that also made sense. Wanda seemed to notice their unsubtlety as she made her way over from the far end of the quinjet before sliding into the co-pilots seat.

"You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here." She stated, frowning.

"My apologies, Miss -" Vision stopped at the sight of her raised eyebrow, "- Wanda, we did not mean to upset you. We are merely concerned."

"And we're going to stay concerned if you don't tell us what is going on in your head." Clint added because maybe someone should gain a sense of emotional clarity on this journey and it was probably best that it was the woman who could tear a dozen robots in two when faced with great emotional strife.

Wanda met his eyes in either a silent refusal or challenge, but she was quick to relent – apparently his signature Dad look was finally coming in useful. "I like Natasha."

"Don't we all?"

"Yes, but what I mean is that I feel as though I…understand her."

Wanda rolled her eyes as two blank faces looked back at her. Natasha would have understood what she meant. "What I mean is that when I invaded her head during the fight with Ultron, I couldn't understand her; I found her confusing. The inside of her head made no sense to me; there was just a lot of pain and a strong desire to do good."

He grimaced. "Sounds about right."

"Even her past made no sense to me – there were numerous jumbled up memories. I only pulled forward a few and even then, they were not complete – there were bits missing, I mean. Not from time, or repression, but it was as though they had never existed." Wanda looked confused but continued anyway. "I understood nothing, but I had no regard for her; so, I did not care."

Clint nodded. They had never really found a definite answer as to whether the Red Room had simply erased Natasha's memories or just replaced them – or even anything beyond that. "Well, let's just say that Hydra weren't the only ones trying out theories on mind-meddling."

Wanda's features moved to show her understanding but she neither asked nor stated anything more; they both knew that Natasha was notoriously private about her past. Whatever came out about her life had to come from her – it just felt like a breach of trust otherwise. Even Vision seemed to recognise the taboo of the subject as he inclined his head in a sign that Wanda was free to continue with her original point.

"When I lost Pietro, I felt as though my heart had been ripped from my chest; all of a sudden the person who had the deepest understanding of me was gone." Noticing the guilt on Clint's face, she reached out and put a comforting hand over his. "I do not hate his choices, nor do I hate the outcome; I just missed him so deeply it became a pain greater than any physical wound. I could not cope, I grew to fear myself and my powers – there seemed to be no way to gain control without my brother by my side."

There was a break as Wanda inhaled deeply. In response, Vision placed his hand on her shoulder and the young woman relaxed, her whole body seemingly absorbing whatever strength had just been offered.

"I spent many nights awake, fearing that if I slept, I would have no control over my powers. I was scared that I would destroy the building if I so much as closed my eyes. If I could not fight the urge; I would steal sedatives from the medical bay and use them to give myself a peaceful sleep. After a few months, there were a few whispers that things had been going missing and Natasha came to me."

Clint was shocked. Nat had never suggested that there had been any problems with Wanda's adjustment after the remaining (and new) Avengers had relocated to the compound. At this point Pietro had been dead for about three months and, in the presence of the team, Wanda had begun to appear as if she was coming to terms with her grief. "What did she say?"

"She told me that Pietro was dead and that I was alive and there was nothing I could do about it."

Well, Clint thought, it seemed Natasha was still as tactful as ever.

"Natasha told me that the best thing I could do was, instead of fearing my powers and hiding my pain, was to use them to make me stronger; I could protect those who could not protect themselves. I still had a life; I could use it to help others."

Wanda scowled, glaring at the red-head across from her. "Who are you to tell me what to do? You have no idea how I feel!"

"I don't know how it feels to lose a brother, no." Natasha admitted, ignoring the girl's glare and moving over to sit next to her. "But I do know what it's like to be broken by a pain that you know will never go away."

There was a truth in her words, Wanda knew that much; she had seen the inside of Natasha Romanoff's head and it was a troubled place. Yet the way she felt right now; she doubted that there would ever be a freedom to be found from that.

She wanted one though, she was desperate for some form of relief.

"How do you cope, then?" She asked, her voice cracked and heavy with tiredness. "I feel like I will never be able to sleep peacefully again. I feel as though every breath that I take is an aftershock of pure agony."

"That's because you're giving your brother too much credit." Despite the red glow that seemed to grow behind Wanda's eyes, Natasha continued. "He was a part of you, yes, and he always will be whether his is living or dead – but he is not who you are. No one gets to decide who you are but you. It isn't Pietro's death that is stopping you from sleeping. It isn't grief, or pain, it's just you. You're struggling, Wanda. You've lived a life defined by other people; your parents, Von Strucker, Ultron, and now you're letting Pietro define you when all he would have wanted is for you to live a life for yourself. To find a freedom and a strength from life that you were both deprived of when you were way too young."

There was a moment of silence until finally, Wanda sobbed. Within seconds she was wrapped in Natasha's arms and she did not know how long she stayed there. It was in the presence of the Black Widow that she sobbed, cried, blubbered and eventually fell asleep – and not for one second did she feel judged or weaker for it. In fact, as she drifted into sleep, all she felt was safe and, for the first time in months, a flicker of peacefulness from the back of her mind allowed her body to relax and she fell into a restful slumber.

When she woke in the morning, her eyes were sore but there was none of the usual drowsiness that she would have felt had she taken her sedative. Instead, as she looked around, she noticed that her room had not been destroyed and the compound was still standing. The only difference was Natasha, sat beside her bed in a chair while holding her phone in her hands.

"How are you feeling?"

"I…I feel okay, I think."

Natasha raised her eyebrow.

"I feel better. Not okay; but still better."

This was the first morning where waking up hadn't felt like the worst part of her day; the pain of Pietro's loss was still there, and she was still deep in her grief, but there was a sense of understanding now; a sense of control over her future as well as a deep potential for a new understanding of happiness.

Looking back at Natasha, she was met with a small grin. "Better is – believe it or not – a good place to start."

It felt like it too. There was a sense of possibility now. Wanda may not be able to turn back time, but she could still enjoy the time she had in front of her. Catching a look at the photo on her bedside table however, the world seemed to grow duller as the pain in her chest increased. As a great wave of heartache washed over her; Wanda made the choice to throw herself a lifeline.

"Does the pain ever go away?"

"No," Natasha admitted, her own face taking on a strong look of sorrow, "but you can still feel pain – you can still grieve – and find a way to live your life. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you can't. Pietro brought great happiness to your life. He was a part of you in a way that no one ever will be; we have a connection with our blood that never goes away, but you can still make other connections that are just as cherished. If remembering Pietro – someone who gave you strength and protection and love – makes you anything other than happy – if it makes you so deeply unhappy that you stop living your life – then maybe, after a certain point, you have to try to remember him in other ways."

On that note, Natasha smiled and turned to show Wanda her phone. The screen depicted a video of the newest Barton baby – Nathanial Pietro – crawling along the floor of the farmhouse from his mother's feet to those of his cooing father. The caption at the bottom of the video read; "Six months and crawling already; this guy's gonna be a speed-demon just like his namesake! Best start bringing your A-game, Romanoff; there's still time to change his birth certificate."

This time the tears that reached Wanda's eyes were that of joy. Perhaps Natasha was right, she could try remembering Pietro in happier ways; in ways that reflected who he was. He had given his life so that Agent Barton could save a child, and, unbeknownst to Pietro at the time, continue to be a father to his own children. Wanda, no matter how much she grieved her brother, could never hate anyone for that; she would only ever be proud of what Pietro had done that day.

She turned to Natasha. "Better ways, yes?"

"Better ways."

"After that day, I felt as though I understood Natasha, I knew what she meant when she talked about turning her losses and her pain into a motivation; a chance to do some good."

"And you have done." Vision said, smiling at her.

"I would like to think so, but I don't know what would have happened if it had not been for Natasha. She pulled me out of an all-consuming darkness, I regret that I was not there to do the same for her."

"The last thing Natasha would have wanted would be for you to put yourself in danger."

Once again, Wanda's expression turned solemn. "I know, but to think of her alone…"

"I know." Clint said, firmly. "Trust me, I do. There's nothing that we can do which will change what's happened. All we can do is get back to the compound and be by her side."

"Indeed. It should probably be noted, Agent Barton, that we are five minutes out from the confirmed landing point." Vision stated.

From his position, Clint saw Steve's head jerk upwards; the first sign of movement from him this whole journey. Seeing his moment, Clint spoke.

"We're five minutes out, Cap. What did Stark say we should do when we get there?"

There seemed to be a delay period as Steve blinked three times before opening his mouth. "We need to park the jet in the trees just behind the compound and then enter through the Avengers quarters – Tony said that he'll meet us in the common room before taking us to the med bay. He wants us to be briefed on Na- on her condition before we see her."

Ignoring his refusal to speak Natasha's name, he proceeded.

"Did he mention anything on how Natasha was doing when he was on the phone?"

Steve shook his head and Clint didn't bother to acknowledge the eyebrow Sam had raised in his direction. "He just said that we should get there as soon as we could."

Deciding not to push the matter any further, the archer decided to focus on landing the jet as the treeline behind the Avengers compound became more and more prominent. He could practically feel the nervous tension emitting from his teammates as he shut down the engines and opened the doors.

Although there was five of them in the jet – Scott was going come in miniature with T'Challa in a few days' time as he didn't feel as though he had any place by Natasha's bedside – none of them seemed to be able to move. Finally, with a sigh and an eyeroll that wouldn't have been out of place on the woman that they had travelled across the world to see, Wanda began to walk out of the jet with Vision following close behind. Instantly the spell seemed to be broken and both Clint and Sam moved with the intent to follow, yet the latter stopped when he realised that the Captain wasn't following.

Gesturing for Clint to carry on with Wanda and Vision, Sam walked back towards Steve. "C'mon, Cap. Natasha need us; she's gonna want to see you."

"I left her behind." Steve whispered, his voice cracking. "I knew that she would be in danger, I knew that she would be hunted, and I still left her behind."

"You thought that she'd find us. We all thought that Natasha would be the one to slip through the net, no one could have predicted this." Sam argued.

"We could have, I could have. I knew that she was in danger; she had spent years on the run after Shield fell. The accords were different; suddenly it was governments and military after her, not just old organisations that had to capture her in the shadows. She would have been in danger wherever she went, Sam. I knew that, and I left her behind anyway."

Suddenly, Sam understood. "You feel bad that you stayed with Bucky and the team when she was on her own."

"It was Natasha that told me that staying together was more important than how we stayed together, and she was the person who ended up losing everything."

"Don't think for one second that Natasha didn't know that was possible. She made her choices because she thought they were the right ones; we all did, and we can't change that. Now, no one's denying that Natasha got the shit end of that deal but what we do know is that sitting here feeling sorry about choices we didn't make won't change what's happened to her."

Steve nodded, and Sam was pleased to know that his words seemed to be getting through. "Look, man, I know that there's a lot going on between you and Natasha and I'm not going to pretend that I have any idea how she's feeling. Right now, though, she's clearly in a bad way and we need to be with her. So, with all due respect, Cap, get your ass out of this quinjet and into that compound."

The blond choked out a laugh before moving in the direction that Sam was pointing. "Thanks, Sam."

"Anytime, man. Now put that super-soldier speed of yours to good use!"

By the time they arrived in the compound, Wanda, Clint and Vision were all waiting for them by the door.

"Everything alright?" Steve asked.

"Shouldn't we be asking you that?" Clint replied, "It's all good on this end; we just wanted to make sure you were good before we moved on."

"I'm…coping." The soldier admitted before moving so that he was walking ahead of the other members of the team. "Let's go."

Together they walked through the halls and into the common room were Rhodey and Pepper were waiting for them. The mood was awkward to say the least, no one knew quite what to do or say. Eventually after a few painful seconds of silence, Sam moved forward.

"Hey, man," he said, walking towards Rhodey, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for what happened in Berlin."

Rhodey waved his had dismissively. "I don't blame you, Sam. I never did. There's a lot of blame that can be thrown around about what happened in Berlin, but I don't think that anyone is to blame for what happened to me. I'm sorry if you've spent the last few months thinking that I blamed you."

The two embraced, uncaring of the uncertainty that was radiating off the others in the room.

"Besides," Rhodey grinned, pulling away from Sam, "I know you were scared that I would outfly you; it's cool, we all have our insecurities."

Sam stood straight but before he could reply another voice interrupted him. "As hilarious as the following argument might be, I'm going to interrupt because, well, I want to."

From the corner of the room came Tony Stark. Coffee in hand and decked in his usual suit and sunglasses, it would have almost appeared as though no time had passed at all if it wasn't for the way he avoided all the eyes in the room that didn't belong to Pepper or Rhodey as he walked towards them.

Finally, after placing his hand in Pepper's and taking any strength that she was offering him, Tony turned to Steve.

"Rogers."

"Tony."

Again, there was silence.

Pushed to the edge by tension and nerves, Clint intervened. "Look, I know that there's a lot to say here, and I know that it's all really important. Okay? I get it, I do. What's also important, to me, anyway, is to find out how Nat's doing and what the hell happened to her? So, can we please, please, focus on that before we get into all," he paused, gesturing between Steve and Tony, "this."

Silently, the two men in question seemed to broker a peace treaty – for the time being anyway. With said treaty in place, the tension in the roomed seemed to half; the rest being a cumulation of nerves and uncertainty over the welfare of their teammate.

"Right," Tony said, looking at all the rouge Avengers – and of course, Vision, who was not so much rouge as occasionally missing for increasingly long periods of time. "I'm assuming you all know that Natasha is currently a pretty intense feature in our med-bay, correct? Well, to put a long story short, yesterday she arrived at the compound with some extensive and life-threatening injuries; we don't know for certain how she got them, but we do know that she's not out of the woods yet. She's still critical."

"What's Doctor Cho said?" Wanda asked, her face pale.

"The biggest threat to her right now is that there's some bleeding on her brain. They've removed a piece of her skull to try and stop the pressure but there's a lot of risk there. Essentially, we don't know if she's going to get better until she starts getting better and even then, we don't know what the inside of her head is going to be like."

"You think they did something to her? Clint questioned.

"I know they did a lot of stuff to her; what I don't know is how that is going to have affected her mentality. We all know Natasha is tough, but she'd likely been under torture for months and even she has a breaking point."

There was nothing to say to that, no argument could be made against what Tony was saying and they all knew it.

"Can we see her?"

Tony nodded, his own face full of seriousness. "Only two in her room at a time."

Without another word, Tony was leading them towards the medical bay. "The kid is with her now – we didn't want her to be alone – so you might have to wait a minute or two before going in because he's been worried sick about her since yesterday." A fond grin broke onto Tony's face before it quickly disappeared. "That might be a good thing though, it's probably best that you see her before you actually see her."

"Is it that bad?" Clint could already feel the pit in his stomach begin to grow.

"It's Natasha." Steve whispered. "It was always going to be bad."

Arriving in the medical bay, the walk suddenly became long and daunting. They could hear an unfamiliar but soft voice speaking as they grew closer to the room Natasha was in.

"That's the kid, Peter." Tony stated, stopping just before the window that showed the inside of Natasha's room; keeping her just out of their view. "He's Spiderman but as far as the rest of the world is concerned; he's an intern. He found Natasha yesterday, he's been wanting to be around in case she woke up while we were talking."

Moving to the side, he spoke final time. "Just to warn you, it's a lot to take in."

As he moved past Tony and gazed into Natasha's hospital room, Steve had never felt such a deep sense of loathing for himself since he had watched Bucky die.

Oh, Nat, he thought as his heart lurched and his stomach twisted itself into a tight knot, what the hell have they done to you?