Natasha's phone rang. "Can you answer that and put it on loud-speaker?" she asked Stephen, handing him her phone as she overtook another slow Saturday driver.
"It's Maria," Stephen said.
"Just answer it," Natasha said. Everything was annoying her. Stephen Strange. This car. The other drivers on the road. The fact that she'd hung up on Steve. The fact that Steve had yelled at her. That she'd left all of those terrific bagels sitting on Matt's kitchen counter.
"Alright," Stephen replied, and answered the call.
"Maria?" Natasha said.
"Natasha, I need an ETA," Maria said.
"Twenty minutes," Natasha replied. "I'm on the freeway, and we're leaving New York fast behind."
"Can you make it quicker?"
"She's already doing 120," Stephen said.
Natasha ignored him. "What's happened?"
"Barnes has spend the last fifteen minutes on the bathroom floor spewing his guts out. For a guy who as far as we know has only eaten the sandwich we gave him last night in the past seventy years, there is an awful lot of sick."
"Is he still being sick?" Stephen asked.
"No," Maria said, "He seems to have stopped. Steve literally had to scrape him off the floor and carry him back to bed."
"Put him on an IV and," Stephen began.
"Yeah," Maria said, "Not gunna happen."
"Agent Hill, you need to,"
"Yeah, well you try telling him that when you get here."
"Has he said anything?" Natasha asked.
"Not really."
Natasha put her foot down.
"Agent Romanov, do you mean to get us both killed?" Stephen asked.
"I don't comment on your cape, you don't comment on my driving. He's wearing a cape, by the way, Maria."
"That doesn't surprise me, Nat."
"ETA just over ten minutes," Natasha said, watching the speedometer nudge 150.
"Thanks Nat. Stephen, I've got a file ready for you when you arrive. X-rays and the like. Turn around is going to have to be quick. I don't know how much fight Barnes has left."
"Just tell him to hang on," Natasha said, "Matt got shot. Barnes does not have my permission to die."
"I'll let him know," Maria said.
"This is all very unorthodox, Agent Hill."
"Says the man in a cape."
"I'll see you both shortly," Maria said and hung up. Natasha pushed her foot down on the accelerator and nudged the car to its limit. They would not be too late.
...
Natasha and Stephen arrived at the Avengers facility ten minutes later. Maria Hill stood out the front with a folder in her arms.
"Natasha, Stephen. I'd say good morning, but the feeling around here is generally the opposite."
"Agent Hill, I strongly object to the way I have been handled this morning. Agent Romanov is rude, threatening, and a dangerous and reckless driver."
"You might have to call your friends at the Transport Department. The car hire company probably won't be too pleased if I got a speeding fine or two," Natasha said, closing the car door and walking around the other side.
"I'll call them later," Maria said, and handed the folder to Stephen, "This is everything we currently have on Barnes's physical condition."
"Did you get the IV into him?"
"No," Maria scoffed.
"Is he on oxygen?"
"That Steve did manage to get him to agree to," Maria said.
"Agent Hill, if the man is as sick as I am lead to believe, then his opinions regarding his care are close to invalid. Put the IV in."
"Stephen, we are not having this discussion. Please follow me," Maria said, and marched into the building, Stephen following close behind, continuing to object.
Natasha lingered outside for a moment. She wasn't sure if Steve, who would undoubtedly be by Bucky's side, would wish to see her. Natasha wandered slowly into the Avengers facility, and made a left for a bathroom break.
Looking in the mirror, Natasha saw a messy and tired figure staring back at her. Her hair in a ponytail and wearing her running gear and Matt's hoodie, Natasha hardly looked the part of a formidable super assassin. She splashed her face with cold water to try and look a little more alive. Now she just looked wet, but the ridiculousness of the situation made Natasha laugh. They found Bucky. Matt got shot. Stephen Strange wore a cape as everyday wear, and he was neither an android or an Asgardian.
Natasha wiped her face, and knew that she had to go to Steve. Last night she took on six armed Hydra goons with a blind guy as her partner. This morning she'd had a lecture from Foggy Nelson on responsible partnerships and Matt Murdock's long line of questionable girlfriends, and the fact that she took 'questionable' to a whole new level. Natasha took a drink of water from the tap and stood up straight. She could certainly face a grumpy Captain Rogers.
...
"Where did you find this man?" Stephen asked, sizing up Scott Lang as he changed into surgical scrubs.
"Breaking and entering," Sam replied, having expected Maria's guy to be a bit on the odd side, but not this weird.
"Please be serious."
"Hey," Scott said, "I wasn't breaking. Just entering. And next time I shall ask, because now we're all buddies."
"You've got to be kidding me," Stephen said.
"Hey, it's cool, man," Scott said, "Now, you ready to save this poor guy?"
"I suppose that is why Agent Romanov dragged me from my pleasant morning."
"Stark left so much awesome stuff here," Scott said, choosing to ignore the doctor. "There're these mini spanners, and mimi screw-drivers, and one of these things," Scott said, pulling a small instrument from his pocket. "Which I borrowed," he said, looking at Sam, "And will put back. I don't even know what it is. Or what it does. Or what it's supposed to do."
"Am I honestly supposed to work with him?" Stephen asked Maria who had no qualms about waiting in the men's locker room.
"Strange, just try and get along, ok?" Maria said, wondering how she'd become nanny to a team of supposed super heroes and their highly peculiar allies. "You ready to come meet the patient?"
"Her presence is annoying," Strange said, as Natasha joined the little group leaving the locker room.
"Oh for…" Maria trailed off.
"You must be Scott," Natasha said, ignoring Strange.
"Hi, yes, I'm Scott," Scott said, and extended his hand to Natasha.
"I'm Natasha," Natasha replied and shook his hand.
"This place is brilliant and I'm super excited. I mean, this sucks for Barnes and Rogers and stuff, but man this is cool."
"Yeah, we tend to get that reaction."
"I mean, I met the pink guy,"
"Vision?"
"Yeah, and he is so cool. Woah, that guy looks like shit," Scott said, as they entered the room where Bucky lay.
Steve, who was sitting by Bucky's beside, turned around and looked at the group, his face grim and pale. Bucky lay in bed, looking deathly pale and feverish, with three Steri-Strips placed across a fresh wound on his forehead. Scott and Stephen positioned themselves on the far side of the room to Bucky's left. Steve sat on Bucky's right, holding his hand. Natasha noticed that Bucky was too weak to properly grasp Steve's hand in return. A screen had been set up across Bucky's left shoulder so that he, Steve and anyone else on his right would not be able to see the procedure.
"Right," Stephen said, to himself as much as to anyone else, and began to clip the x-rays into the board, "What have we here…"