They're off the grid for a week. Handling some mess SHIELD left them. Natasha doesn't go with them, she says she has her own thing she needs to do. They don't need her, it's simple for them. He wants to see her. He wants to hold her. A week is a long time. Since they've gotten together, they've rarely been apart. They're close enough to the Tower, Tony checks his phone. Hoping for a text from Natasha. He's disappointed. But there's a text from JARVIS. He flicks it open, expecting nothing. He's tired, he misses the urgent labeling. But he nearly drops his phone after he reads the text. He's standing, not realizing he is.
"Clint, can you get us there faster? Something's wrong with Natasha." He finds himself saying, reading the text again. According to the text, Natasha holed herself up in her room Monday. He checks the date, it's Thursday. He dials JARVIS, shooting a text to his AI in hopes of more information. It takes him a few moments to hear that Steve and Clint are speaking to him.
"-ony. What the hell?" He catches the tail end of Clint's words, and he snaps his head up.
"Give me a minute." He says, turning back to his phone. JARVIS is able to give him a bit more information, but it just makes things worse. The AI suspects Natasha came in injured, and she's cut out his systems in her room. He cites that she wasn't acting normal, and seemed upset and panicked. The AI is unable to tell him more, and Tony wants to throw his phone across the jet.
"JARVIS can't tell what's going on, she might be hurt. Something is definitely wrong, she's been in her room since Monday." He's saying, looking up at Steve. Clint's flying the damn jet, but Tony is sitting close to the cockpit. His suit sits in the back of the jet, he's in his under-suit. He wants to peel the damn thing off, he's been in it for days. But that concern quickly flits itself to the back of his brain.
"Shit." He hears Clint say. Clint's known Natasha longer, and maybe he understands something Tony doesn't. He turns to Clint, and notices Steve doing the same.
"I'm just as clueless as you guys, but something is definitely up." Clint is saying, and Tony's shoulders sag. Tony looks up at Steve, he feels the Captain's eyes on him.
"We're about a half hour out, Tony." Steve is saying. Tony nods. It's going to be the longest half hour of his life. He'd take the suit and fly back himself, but the damn thing is damaged. He clenches his phone. He's scared. Terrified. The half hour drags by, and he's standing at the hatch the moment they land. He turns to see Clint practically flying out of the pilot's chair, and he nods. If Tony can't get through to Natasha, maybe Clint can. He and the archer make a bee-line for Natasha's room.
Tony doesn't like what he finds. The door is jammed shut, and won't automatically open. Even the overrides are down. He swears, colorfully, and wedges his fingers in the door. Sheer force of will, and some help from Clint, and they manage to get the door open. Tony is greeted by smaller furniture piled against where the door was. The room is dark, and Tony turns. The door paneling, and electrical system to the room, is ripped out of the wall. The jagged edges of the wiring tells him exactly what happened. Clint's suddenly shining a flashlight in the room, giving them a better look. Tony absently wonders where the hell he got a flashlight, but that thought quickly leaves him when he sees what's huddled in against the far wall.
"'Tasha? Jesus! 'Tasha!" He finds himself almost shouting. His voice breaks and he's rushing over to her. Clint shines the light on her and Tony chokes. She's covered in blood, there's so much blood. But she's moving, she's alive. He's afraid to touch her, to see where she's hurt. But he has to. She needs him. There are tear tracks down her face, lines of pale skin in the blood that's caked on her face. He reaches out and grips her chin, turns her face so he can get a better look. Clint shines the light. She's so pale, and the dark circles beneath her eyes scare Tony. She scrunches up her face, and blood flakes off. She's not looking him in the eye, though. She's looking past him, like he's not there. He's terrified.
"Come on, Natasha. Look at me." He's saying. He's begging. He's scared. And then she's speaking, mumbling. He has to strain to hear it. Clint, apparently, hears it, and the light is switched off. It was bothering her, but now he can't tell how badly she's hurt. But her face relaxes, and that tells him everything.
"The light is out, 'Tasha. Come on, look at me." He says, trying to coax her into looking at him. He's suddenly afraid she has a bad concussion, but he can't tell. Something is very wrong, though. Clint's bending down beside her, assessing her.
"Tony, careful. Her arm's broken. I can't tell if she's hurt anywhere else." Clint says, and Tony nods. He hadn't noticed the arm, but in the dim light he can see that it's bent at an unnatural angle. She tries to turn away, but he won't let go. He needs her to look at him. She's trying to speak again, and this time, Tony can't make out what she's trying to say. Her voice is so slurred and laced with exhaustion and something else he cannot name that he can't understand her. He's scared. He turns to Clint.
"Clint, get Bruce. Tell him I'll meet him in medical." He's saying. He needs to move her, but he's scared he'll hurt her. She clearly needs help, though. She's whimpering and it breaks his heart. He's never heard that sound from her. It rips him in two.
"Easy 'Tasha, I've got you." He says to her, Clint has already left. He's assessing her now, trying to find the best way to move her. He fears that if he does hurt her, she won't be able to tell him. She still hasn't looked him in the eye. He gently adjusts her on the floor, running quick hands over her to check for anything serious that would prevent him from moving her. He finds nothing. He slips an arm under her legs and one behind her back. He lifts her, slowly, carefully, and she lets out another whimper. It breaks him, he can't tell if she's in pain and he knows she can't tell him. He turns and starts walking, he needs to get her to Bruce. More garbled words from her, and then suddenly she's coughing. Hard. He has to adjust his grip on her.
"Easy 'Tasha." He feels like a broken record. But he doesn't know what to say, what to do. He's lost. He's terrified. "Stop talking, it's going to be okay." He adds. He's so scared. He picks up the pace, nearly running to the elevator. He thinks she's blacked out, she's gone still in his arms. He goes careening into medical, looking around frantically for his team. He finds them. He finds Bruce, standing beside a bed. He's moving, running, until he reaches Bruce. And then he's laying her on the bed. He looks up at Bruce, trying to read his friend. But Bruce just looks concerned. That doesn't bode well.
"Natasha, look at me." Bruce is coaxing her, but Tony knows that won't work. He shakes his head at Bruce. But it does garner a reaction from her, she turns away. That's something. Bruce is pressing fingers to her neck.
"JARVIS, what are her vitals?" Bruce is asking, and all Tony can do is rest a hand on Natasha's shoulder. And then his AI is sounding off numbers and words he only vaguely understands, and what he can understand scares him. Tony is watching her face, hoping for some reaction. She seems to fade in and out, and continues to stare ahead.
"She's in bad shape." He hears Bruce say, he doesn't look up. He can see that for himself. Her breathing is labored and fast, and he can see the slight tremor in her good hand.
"Natasha, I need you to focus. Concentrate." Bruce is speaking to her again, but this time, there is no response. She stares ahead, expression vacant. Tony is growing more terrified. She's curled up on the bed on her side, facing Tony. Bruce reaches over and adjusts her, straightening her out. She doesn't resist, or even react. Bruce shakes his head.
"I'm going to sedate her." Bruce is saying, and Tony flinches. He knows how much she hates that, and it garners a whimper from her. He flinches again. Tony is reaching down, cupping her cheek with a hand. He bends down to her level.
"I'm sorry, 'Tasha." He's saying, but she doesn't react. He was hoping she would. He looks up in time to see Bruce inserting the needle. He sighs, but he knows Bruce knows what he's doing. And then they're waiting for the drugs to take effect, Tony's running a hand up and down her leg. Finally, her eyes close and she goes limp. And then Bruce is moving. He's putting in an IV and slipping oxygen tubing around her face.
"Tony, help me get her undressed." Tony nods, reaching down. Finally, something he can do to help. He stops. Her shirt is torn in several places, and dried blood cakes it to her skin. He's not sure how to do this. And then Bruce is pressing a pair of scissors in his hands. He nods again, understanding. He starts to cut her shirt off, and sees Bruce doing the same to her pants. It takes some maneuvering but they get the ruined clothing off of her. Tony stops. He stares. He can see where the blood was hers, and where the blood was someone else's. There are gashes and cuts and scrapes. Some already infected. Large bruises purple her chest, and he's flinching. There have to be broken bones under that, he can tell. He's frozen. He manages to pull his gaze away, and then he's looking at her broken arm. He wants to gag, to puke. He's staring and he can't stop.
"Steve, get him out of here." He hears Bruce saying, and hands are gently steering him away, guiding him out of the room. Tony can't forget her vacant look. Steve is steering him down the hall. Finally, he snaps back to himself. He turns, he wants to go back. He needs to go back. But Steve blocks him.
"You need to get cleaned up as well, and then we have a debrief." Steve is saying, and Tony scowls. He knows the Captain is right. He relents, climbing in the elevator of his own accord. He heads to his room and showers. Then changes into clean clothes. Their debriefs are usually at the SHIELD offices, and he makes it in time to meet the rest of the team. Bruce is there, and he turns to his friend.
"She's going to be fine, Tony. She just needs rest." Bruce's words set his world at ease. At least somewhat. He knows he will not feel completely at ease until she looks at him. The fact that she was looking past him the entire time, it nearly broke him. She needed him, and he had no idea how to be there for her. The rest of the team is moving, and he follows. The ride to the office isn't long, and Tony is preoccupied the entire time. He barely pays attention to the debrief, Hill is running it, and he can't bring himself to pay attention to her. He doesn't know if she notices, but she pulls him aside after the meeting. She doesn't say anything, just presses a folder in his hands and walks away. He looks down at the folder, the team is chatting amongst themselves in the room. He opens the folder and starts to read. And suddenly, he understands.
The folder contains Natasha's mission parameters, which are normal. He skims through them. The next page is what Natasha reported after the mission. It's jumbled, garbled. Tony has to read it several times to understand it. He's suddenly nauseous. He understands her state. Civilian deaths hit them all hard, but from what he gleans, she is blaming herself. She describes the kid in her own jumbled words, and Tony understands further. She saw Clint in the kid. He understands now, and while he doesn't know how he can fix it, he will do his best. As he closes the folder, his phone buzzes. He pulls it out, JARVIS is texting him. He reads the text, and then reads it again. He's rushing back into the room, but Bruce is already standing, his own phone out. Natasha escaping medical is not an abnormal thing, but Tony knows she's in no state to really be by herself. He's suddenly afraid again. He and Bruce are practically running to the car, the rest of the team left in the dust.
"She should have been out for another three hours." Bruce is saying, but they both know Natasha's body is different. Altered. Still, Bruce is usually capable in factoring such things in. "She must have burned through it faster than I expected." Now Tony knows Bruce is simply talking to himself, working out the problem verbally. Tony throws himself in the driver's seat, barely waiting for Bruce to get in. He kicks the car into gear and peels out of the parkway. Traffic laws don't matter at that moment, and he's going to end up with several traffic tickets in the mail, but they're lucky, and they don't get caught by any police officers. In record time they're back at the tower, and he and Bruce are running to the back elevator. Tony takes a brief millisecond to thank everything for JARVIS and his A.I.'s thought process, the elevator is waiting for them.
"Where is she, JARVIS?" Bruce calls out, and Tony wants to kick himself for not thinking to ask that himself. His head isn't on straight, he's terrified and worried and definitely a little nauseous.
"Agent Romanoff has holed herself up in Sir's workshop. She seems to be distressed and confused." The A.I. answers and Tony swears before turning to Bruce.
"Let me get her, I'll bring her back to medical." He finds himself saying. He wishes Clint was with them too, but Natasha will still respond to him. Of course she will, they're dating. There's a modicum of doubt in his mind, but she shoves it away. Right now Natasha needs support, and that's what he will be. Support. Bruce nods at his words, and the elevator stops on the medical floor to let him off. And then JARVIS is whisking the elevator to the floor where his workshop is. Tony frets the entire time, he has no device in his hands to ask JARVIS to give him visual, and he decides he simply needs to put monitors in the elevators. He doesn't think much past that, as the elevator doors open, and he's running out into the hallway. He bolts to his workshop door and he probably dents the keypad with the code to open the doors. He'll fix it later. The door slides open and he rushes in, searching the large workshop for signs of his girlfriend. She's curled up on his ragged old couch, wrapped in that scratchy afgan he keeps meaning to replace. He breathes a sigh of relief, though, he's not relieved. Not truly.
"'Tasha." His voice is nothing more than a whisper, he's too afraid to speak any louder at that moment. He can tell she's been crying, that she's still crying, and he just wants to hold her. He wants to make everything okay for her. He's never seen her look like this, so he moves slowly. Carefully. He exaggerates every movement, because she's still the Black Widow, and he really has no idea of the state of her mind. He's not afraid of her, though. He's afraid for her. He feels like he doesn't reach her side soon enough, but he's there. He kneels on the floor before the couch and looks at her. Tony really looks at her. It's not as bad as he had feared, driving like a mad-man to get to the tower. But it's still bad. He makes a motion to reach out to her, but he stops partway there. "You scared us." He murmurs. He's unsure if he should touch her, that she wants to be touched. His brow wrinkles when she tries to offer him a smile. At least, he hopes it was a smile.
"It's all right." Her voice is nothing more than a croak, and he flinches. He can tell she's lying, and that bothers him. The fact that he can see through her lie tells him just how bad it is. He shakes his head at her words.
"No, it's not." He says, and he watches her entire demeanor change. She suddenly grows scared, and pulls away from him. He quickly stands and sits on the couch next to her. He grasps her, gently, and pulls her into his arms, holding her tightly. And then the floodgates open, and she's sobbing in his arms. She's sobbing harder than he's ever seen anyone cry, and it's definitely not usual for her. The rare times that Natasha Romanoff cries, the tears are silent. This is not silent. He holds her tighter, despite the fact that she is shaking. That her body is shuddering. He can't stop this, he knows she needs to let it out. And that's when Tony realizes she shouldn't be out of medical. Because he can hear her gasping for breath and that's most definitely not a good thing. He gathers her up in his arms and stands, even as she is still sobbing. Times like this it makes him realize just how small she is, even compared to his compact frame. He pauses to make sure the blanket is still wrapped around her, because she's got to be cold in nothing but a medical gown. He also double checks to make sure her injured arm is situated before he takes off.
"It's going to be okay, 'Tasha." He finds himself trying to reassure her, as he starts heading out of the workshop and towards the elevator. He's walking as fast as he dares, because she's still not catching her breath and he is so scared. He makes it back to medical with her in short order, but not short enough for him. He lays her in the bed she had previously been occupying, and looks up to Bruce for direction. He's gotten her to medical, he doesn't know what else to do now. He watches as Bruce places an oxygen mask on her face and he really hopes that will help. That it might solve one problem so he can tackle the next one with her. He starts to card his fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her through physical touch. He finds himself smiling at her, and after a moment she smiles back. That is what lets him know things will be okay. Eventually. He'll get her, and them, through this entire affair. Because that's what they do. That's how they work. She'd do the same for him, has done the same for him. That's what love is to him, what they have together. He finds his smile widening as he looks down on her. Yeah, they'll be okay.