Steve smelled the earth, damp and soot covered. Cautiously he opened his eyes a fraction and it was dark… where was he? His head spun as his brain slowly became aware that everything was fine but he felt like he had been wrung through his mother's hand washing with extra naptha soap.

Dark?

He realized that he was lying face down over a pile of rubble as gravel and soil clung to his cheeks and chin, pressing into his lips.

A clarion bell went off in his head; the missile… Stark…where was Bucky!

Jerking upright in alarm, eliciting a growl of pain, he scrambled to a sitting position. His vision spun in crazy circles so that he physically grabbed his head in his hands as if that could steady it. Paused by his concussion, he didn't move but rather looked at the huge crater that lay before him. Blocks of concrete the size of busses strewn about like children's discarded toys. Smoke rose in lazy circles above the bland landscape as black burn marks punctuated the ground like giant paint splotches. Once his vision steadied, he gingerly stood up, stretching battered muscles and walked to the edge of the crater. The hole descended several stories down. A pit of despair the size of the crater began to form in Steve's stomach.

Bucky was tough, but he didn't have an exoskeleton like Tony.

A moan caught his attention and instead of taking a defensive position, he went to the source. Natasha was delicately picking herself out of the rubble a few yards away from the edge of the crater. Some more debris moved, and Peter began to extricate himself. "Parker, that is the LAST time I let you drive." Natasha stated.

"But Ms. Natasha, I wasn't." Peter picked himself free wincing here and there.

Natasha looked at him with a smirk, "I'm joking."

"Oh." Peter chuckled self-consciously, "I get it."

"You two ok?" Steve asked, arriving on the scene.

Natasha looked Steve up and down appraisingly. Rogers felt his cheeks color under his beard as her eyes moved over him, "The beard… I like it."

"Umm, Ms. Natasha, aren't' we supposed to arrest him?" Parker suggested quietly.

Natasha glanced over her shoulder at Peter, "Look kid, it's NATASHA. That's it. No 'Miss' anything. Got it?" Peter swallowed, "Yes, technically we should but we have some other things to deal with right now, like finding the rest of our friends."

"Friends? I'm confused." Peter frowned.

"Yeah, you're 16. Of course you're confused." She responded and walked over to Rogers, reaching for a hug.

Steve embraced the assassin in a brotherly hug, "You look pretty good yourself."

"Are you flirting with me, Steve?"

A wash of discomfort from the 1940's washed over his expression but then he put it away, "We need to find the others."

"What's the hurry?"

"Bucky and Tony are down in that demolished bunker."

Her eyes got wide; the implications were very clear.

Peter turned several directions like a dog trying to scent the wind, "I think I remember Vision and Rhody being over there somewhere."

"Sam was this way." Steve gestured.

"Where's Wanda?" Natasha asked.

"Too soon after the Raft." Steve replied gruffly.

"Umm, yeah. I wanna know why General Ross would shoot a missile at us knowing we were right here taking care of business." Peter said, annoyed.

The two older Avengers looked at their youngest member.

"Maybe he wanted Steve's group dead, knowing they'd show up." Natasha offered. That was pretty standard assassination protocol; lure in the target with bait and boom! Job done.

"Maybe he wanted all of us dead, knowing we'd all be here together." Rogers looked down at Romanov.

"That double crossing son of a-" her voice took a low dangerous tone.

"BUT- we don't know that." Steve cut her off.

"How can you be so… forgiving." Green eyes framed by dusty red hair became hard like emeralds.

"When you're as old as I am, carrying a grudge does you no good." Steve replied, moving off where Sam was last seen, "See what it did to Tony?"

Her hackles came down, yes, she did see what that had done to Tony. It was one of the reasons they were standing there right now. "Let's recon after everyone is recovered and we can get a plan going."

"10-4."

"What's 10-4?" Peter asked. Natasha rolled her eyes, kids these days.