Perfect Score (expanded and revamped), an avengers fanfic

Disclaimers: Marvel characters belong to Marvel. Inspired by the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), Animation, TV series, Cartoons and Comics.

Author's note: "It's about the journey, not the destination," right? Ten years ago, when I first wrote this story, I was already sick, although I didn't know it. Over the past decade, I've faced many of life's challenges: the loss of my parents, the health crises of loved ones, and my own struggles. Sadly, I know I'm not alone in this. Eventually, I found myself grappling with depression, but I'm grateful to have emerged stronger on the other side. I've learned the tough lesson: the end is inevitable. All we can do is live the best way we can.

Back then, I struggled to explore everything that happened with Steve — my own demons held me back. Now, I've delved much deeper into this story — almost quadrupling its length. I understand it better because I also suffered and survived.

In many ways, it mirrors my own journey of struggle and healing. So I'm sharing it separately. While the end is the same — a happy one, as we all need — Steve's path is longer, more profound, and deeply emotional. For new readers, this is a self-contained story within a larger universe. I do hope you all enjoy it.

Warning: SPOILERS/Lines of the movie The Perfect Score (2004): Chris Evans as Kyle and Scarlett Johansson as Francesca.

The Perfect Score

No surprises in Stark's world.

Ever pragmatic, the Genius worked tirelessly to predict the future and invent technology for the next century. Once a solitary hero, Iron Man had evolved into a team player, committed to safeguarding those dear to him.

On those grounds, the billionaire spared no expense. The Avengers Tower's medical floor boasted cutting-edge equipment to meet their diverse needs, with an enhanced ER, ICU, and comprehensive laboratories. Due to the highest levels of automation and rigorous procedures, only a handful of skilled employees were required to ensure maximum security and efficiency. The entire staff was meticulously handpicked, with the world's top specialists on call for everything from routine examinations to advanced surgeries — such as the renowned Chinese heart surgeon Dr. Wu, who had removed the shrapnel from Tony's chest a year earlier.

As a courtesy, the lower levels offered accommodations with full-service amenities, including a restaurant and a gym, designed to cater to both staff and guests. For instance, the already extravagant infrastructure was significantly upgraded when Stark assembled a task force to find a cure for Pepper, who was infected by AIM's Extremis virus in late 2012. Confidentiality was paramount, and everyone, without exception, had to sign an NDA. No one dared to mess with Tony's army of lawyers.

Once more, these resources would be stretched to their limit.

Avengers Tower. Saturday, February 8, 2014.

Following a fateful confrontation with the Winter Soldier at the Kronas facility in West Virginia, anxiety and uncertainty filled the air. Upon receiving Captain America's distress message, JARVIS sent the Avenjet on autopilot to rescue them.

Although not a practicing physician, Dr. Banner's expertise in general medicine, biology, and chemistry enabled him to oversee the advanced healthcare facility. Despite his logical, analytical nature, Bruce worked with compassion, aiming to help his friends as a man, not just as the Hulk.

As the Avengers' Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Linda Jane Carter Watson was always on alert when Earth's Mightiest Heroes were returning from dangerous missions. At 52, she was a seasoned trauma and intensive care physician specializing in toxicology, and had been instrumental in the Extremis crisis. Her first call in any emergency was always to Georgia Jenkins, an ICU and burn nurse with extensive experience in pain management and respiratory care, who served as the Head of Nursing.

The sun had yet to rise when the trio gathered on the rooftop, observing the aircraft descended through the dim light. Stepping into the cool, crisp morning, the Soldier cradled the Spy in his arms, her head resting against his chest. The acrid scent of smoke and singed fabric clung to the air. Dust and debris muted the red of her hair and streaked across her pale face. Despite the grime sticking to her suit, it appeared otherwise intact — unlike him. His uniform was charred and torn, revealing burns on his right shoulder and arm. His skin was blackened and marred with ash. Inside the Avenjet, his helmet, gloves, and shield lay discarded in the chaos.

"Jesus, Rogers… what happened?" Though Bruce was alarmed by the Captain's appearance, Steve's attention was solely on Natasha. With a firm, protective grip, he placed her on a gurney.

"A dart hit her… some kind of tranquilizer… Didn't take effect immediately… She was fine at first," he explained as they rushed to the ER.

With Nurse Jenkins' assistance, Dr. Watson began a thorough examination and determined that the Spy was unresponsive. Meanwhile, JARVIS displayed all the data he had gathered while flying them from West Virginia.

During the hypersonic journey, the Soldier had relived the distressing moments as he carefully nestled his girl close. His infallible memory recalled every detail with clarity, yet it was clouded by turbulent emotions…

Just as he could dodge bullets by anticipating a shooter's intent, the Captain had foreseen the danger the moment Bucky reached for the Cube. With lightning-fast reflexes, Steve lunged toward Natasha, positioning himself as a barrier… Gotta use my body to protect hers… The searing heat scorched his right side, yet he didn't falter… Got her! Wrapping her completely, he absorbed the brunt of the detonation… Grab onto her tightly… Hugging her from behind, he kept her secure as they were thrown off their feet… Gotta twist… Turning mid-air, he used his shield to cushion their fall, grateful she was safe in his arms… Thank God! Every movement was precise and controlled, a testament to his strength, quick thinking, and protective instincts.

"There was an explosion," the Soldier continued his report steadily. "The heat dissipated quickly, but the boom and shockwave came later, delayed somehow, and the building began to collapse. I held her close, cradling her head against my chest. I don't know how much of the blast and impact my shield spared her. But afterward, she was okay and even told me her left ankle hurt…"

As the dust was settling, he had felt relief upon seeing her bright green eyes. In sync, he lifted her up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, encircling his waist with her legs, clinging tightly.

"As we'd done before, she held onto me, and I carried her under my shield. Falcon's lasers cleared the path…"

Even with the Spy in tow, the Super-Soldier had navigated the wreckage much faster than she could have alone. Using his right arm to push away obstacles, he further aggravated his wounds. However, his uninjured arm offered better stability and control to support her while holding his shield, which also protected them from falling rubble. Adrenaline dulled his pain, but he couldn't afford to waver.

"But about halfway through… she started slipping…"

Noticing her grip loosening, he had tightened his hold as he jumped over a fallen pillar. The minutes dragged on, each feeling like an eternity, but he forced himself to remain calm and pushed forward.

"When we finally got out, she was unconscious."

Although the Captain maintained his composure and control while watching the medical team work efficiently around her, he also worried that he might have overlooked some important detail or inadvertently disclosed confidential information.

"So far, nothing appears to be life-threatening," Bruce observed, standing nearby. "Which is remarkable, considering what you've been through."

The Soldier frowned. "Why isn't she waking up?"

"We'll run tests and see what we find, okay?"

"Right…" Steve muttered, pursing his lips.

"But you need attention too."

"Take care of her first," the Captain insisted, allowing no room for debate.

Unsurprisingly, he refused any attention for himself, staying at her side throughout the medical assessment.

When Natasha was finally settled into the ICU bed, Steve stood vigil, rooted in place. The room around him faded, leaving only the steady rise and fall of her chest and the soft beep of the heart monitor to ground him. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him, and he swayed slightly, his grip tightening on the bed rail.

"Cap?" Nurse Jenkins' gentle voice broke through his haze. "Captain?" She exchanged a glance with her assistant, who immediately stepped forward.

With her background in emergency medicine and military experience, Assistant Nurse Nancy Brown quickly recognized the Soldier's silent struggle. Without a word, she wheeled a comfortable recliner to his side and helped him settle into it, positioning him close to the Spy, then handed him a bottle of water. Exhaustion pulled him into the chair as he sipped slowly.

"May I check your vitals, Captain Rogers?" she asked softly. He tilted his head, barely registering her actions as she tightened the cuff around his uninjured arm. The readings revealed the strain of his trauma — high heart rate and blood pressure, along with a fever. She took his blood sample and set up an IV to keep him hydrated before removing his boots and other garments, mindful of his wounds.

Yet through it all, his focus never shifted. Tracing every delicate line of his Redhead, so peaceful yet fragile, the Blond silently willed for a flicker of movement. When the nurse finished, he whispered, "Thanks, Nancy."

Feeling a bit better after receiving fluids, Steve rested in the reclining chair. His hand never left Natasha, a silent vow to be there when she awoke.

Soon, Dr. Watson arrived with preliminary results. "Agent Romanoff is stable. Scans reveal no major trauma or internal injury, just a mild concussion and a sprain in her left ankle, along with some minor injuries."

"A concussion?" His tone was heavy with concern. "Is that why she fainted?"

Linda shook her head. "Possibly, but the symptoms usually appear immediately, and it wouldn't explain her prolonged unconsciousness. Given the circumstances, it's likely a combination of factors."

His jaw tightened. "Hmm."

"We sent the dart to the lab," she continued. "But something unusual showed up in the system. Her blood tests are sealed. I can only access the diagnosis."

The Soldier straightened, mind racing through the layers of secrecy the Spy kept and the weight of his newfound responsibility. Following the battle with the Super-Adaptoid five months ago, the couple had signed documents granting each other full authority to make decisions on the other's behalf in matters of health, safety, and personal affairs. In their line of work, it wasn't just a formality; it was about complete and unwavering trust. It gave him the right to act, not as the Avengers' leader but as her partner, a role he took very seriously and was proud of.

"Oh, is everything okay?"

"According to JARVIS, her blood work is within normal parameters for her condition. But it's strange, right?" Uncertainty tinged her voice.

"Probably a spy thing," Steve muttered. His thought to offer clearance was tempered by his trust in the AI and Natasha's own safeguards.

Dr. Watson nodded briefly, sensing his weariness, and moved on. "Toxicology came back negative. No foreign substances in her bloodstream. No sign of infection. No other symptoms associated with drugs that cause unconsciousness. However, the EEG shows signs of light sedation."

"So, she was drugged?"

"It's likely, Captain. But without identifying the substance, we can't be certain."

"I see…" His right hand clenched and unclenched, a subconscious attempt to manage the pain.

She quickly asked, "How are you feeling now, Steve?"

"I'm fine, Linda," he dismissed her, though the strain in his voice betrayed him.

Suddenly, he tensed, his eyes wide, darting between Natasha's delicate hand in his and her serene face. "Nat?" His voice softened, brimming with gentle affection. "I felt her fingers twitch."

Seated nearby, the physician rested a hand on his uninjured knee, steadying him. "Small movements are often reflexive. It's a good sign. Her body is responding."

"Oh," he sighed, disappointed. "When will she awaken?"

"We'll keep her under close observation and run additional tests, but we can't make any predictions."

"Right…" He lowered his head slowly.

"I know it's frustrating not having all the answers. But I assure you, we're using the finest medical resources in the world. I'll keep you updated."

"Thank you for taking care of her."

"It's my job, Cap," Dr. Watson said with a smile. "Georgia will check on you shortly."

Steve acknowledged quietly.

Tony strolled in next. "Cap? I just spoke to Linda." He stood, his eyes flicking between the Soldier and the Spy, remembering how scared he had been when Pepper was hurt. He wanted to ask how his friend was holding up but didn't know how, so he just said, "You good?"

Steve's nod was barely perceptible as his attention remained on Natasha.

Although protocol demanded a debriefing after every mission, this was different. The Captain wasn't just injured but exhausted and emotionally drained. Trying his best to be supportive, the Genius continued, "I told her to get the best. Whatever she needs, it's hers. Carte blanche."

"Thanks, Tony."

Bruce arrived a moment later, addressing the most pressing issue. "The dart's an empty shell, so we can't identify the drug yet. Dr. Watson's in the lab, and they're using advanced forensics. Don't worry, as always, we'll share sensitive information on a need-to-know basis." He paused briefly. "Do you have any idea what she was injected with?"

The Captain inhaled slowly, his left hand curling into a fist as he gathered his thoughts. His voice was heavy. "An old KGB mind control drug."

Banner's eyes widened. "Oh. I swear to you, my friend, we'll figure this out."

"I know. Thank you."

After checking on the Spy, Nurse Jenkins turned her full attention to the Soldier. "Let's get you taken care of, okay?"

"'Kay," Steve mumbled.

That was all the authorization she needed. With professional efficiency, she prepared his infusion, selecting stronger, longer-lasting doses tailored to his unique physiology. "This will help with the discomfort."

"Please, Georgia, no sedation."

Understanding the reason behind his request, she switched to a non-opioid analgesic. Then, meeting his eyes, her expression was a mix of concern and respect. "Sure, Captain."

"Thanks."

As the medication took effect, a faint relief spread through his body, though it was far from complete.

She checked the IV, ensuring everything was functioning before beginning to apply a lukewarm antiseptic solution to his face. "This might sting a bit," she warned. A low grunt escaped him as the liquid made contact. His jaw tightened reflexively, but he took a steadying breath, exhaling slowly.

Then came the most challenging part of the treatment as she announced, "Let's get this gear off." Meticulously, the nurse began to cut away his uniform, removing the material stuck to the burns. Her touch was careful, but even the slightest tug sent pain shooting through his nerves. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead as the fabric peeled away.

"Sorry, Cap," she murmured, empathy filling her eyes.

His breathing grew shallow and labored as he fought to remain stoic. "'S'okay, Georgia. Do what you have to."

Once his uniform was removed, the full extent of his injuries became clear. His right side — shoulder, arm, and thigh — all covered in scorched, blistered skin, raw and exposed. Deep bruises and cuts further added to his agony. His accelerated healing, usually a blessing, posed a problem. The new tissue had to be carefully removed to clean the flesh beneath and prevent infection. Despite the potent local anesthetic, the entire procedure was long and grueling, each step a test of his endurance. He winced repeatedly, though he stayed outwardly composed.

Dr. Watson arrived to oversee the procedure, offering words of encouragement. "Almost done, Captain."

"'M fine," he whispered, though his misery was unmistakable.

With deft precision, Georgia applied advanced burn ointments, nanotech-enhanced for faster skin repair, and topical antibiotics. Nancy handed her the non-stick bandages, and she wrapped him securely, placing his right arm in a sling. "You're all set for now, Cap. But we'll need to repeat this every six hours."

Utterly drained, he managed a faint smile. "'Kay."

After reviewing the notes and conducting her own examination, the CMO confirmed Nurse Jenkins' diagnosis of second-degree burns and outlined the next steps in treatment. Adjusting Steve's reclining wheelchair for comfort, the assistant nurse provided him with a couple of high-calorie drinks as directed by the physician.

"The burns should heal within a week," Dr. Watson explained. "We'll have your blood results back within the hour, but we need to proceed with imaging tests to assess the extent of the bruising and any underlying damage."

Reaching out with his uninjured arm, the Soldier clasped the Spy's hand gently. The thought of her waking up alone, without him by her side, was unbearable. His gaze remained on her, filled with a mixture of resolve and tenderness.

"Thanks, Linda. But I need to stay here."

The soft hum of the medical equipment filled the room as the nurses and the physician quietly stepped away, giving the Captain a moment of solitude.

As the silence deepened and the adrenaline ebbed, he felt the full weight of everything. Alone with his Redhead, the Blond finally surrendered to his emotions, tears quietly welling up. Wake up, Nat… please…

His whole body ached, though he wasn't paying attention to it. The fight with the Winter Soldier had been brutal — that was to be expected. The explosion, however, had taken a serious toll on him.

Just four months ago, Bravo had blown up an AIM warehouse, burying the Spy and the Archer alive. Thankfully, the Soldier found them hidden under a pillar and managed to get them out unharmed. His mind replayed the harrowing rescue — the frantic digging, the relief of finding them alive, and the sheer determination that had driven him.

This time, the blast hit the Captain directly. But once again, the fear for her safety overwhelmed him. He would rather move mountains to protect her, anything to avoid feeling as helpless as he did now. Seeing Natasha's lifeless body seemed to drain the life out of Steve.

Between sharp intakes of breath, his hand tightened around hers as he prayed silently. Father… please… keep her safe… and guide her through this…

Outside, the first rays of sunlight spread into the upper atmosphere.

The teenager opened her eyes… slowly… seeing nothing but dense fog… Everything was strange… unknown… and she had no idea where she was… As her senses gradually adjusted to the unfamiliar surroundings… she found neither solid ground nor open skies… only a bizarre juxtaposition of light and dark…

On one side, a thousand lights danced madly… their brightness so piercing, paralyzing… threatening to take her life if she stared at them for too long… The worst danger, however, came from the opposite direction… An electric whine filled the Stygian gloom… flooding her mind with stark, unreasoning fear… conjuring up terrifying images that would claim her soul…

Caught between oblivion and mental bondage, she wanted to scream… but her voice was silenced… Hugging her legs tightly against her chest, she closed her eyes… only to be instantly bombarded by living nightmares… She couldn't submit to the shadowy figures that wanted to trap her in those false dreams… But with the cold white wind slicing through her clothes, skin, and bones… she couldn't just sit there and succumb to the endless void either…

Her survival instinct urged her to rise and seek safety… to keep fighting…

A few hours later, the Blond held the Redhead's hand, eyes closed in silent prayer, when he heard a knock at the door. The Archer arrived in a rush, followed by Assistant Nurse Brown.

Assigned to tail former Soviet General Aleksander Lukin, the CEO of Kronas Corporation, Mockingbird had been in London when Hawkeye joined her. Mesmerized, they watched as Thor's storm forced the general's private jet to make an emergency landing on Hans Island in the High Arctic. After ensuring the Russian couldn't escape, the couple flew a SHIELD Quinjet to New York.

"Cap? JARVIS called me. I came as fast as I could." Despite his familiarity with hospitals, Clint felt gutted seeing Natasha hooked up to so many devices, her left leg propped up in a splint. His partner, his best friend — always so fearless and independent — now seemed fragile and defenseless. He murmured, "How's… how is she?"

"Still unconscious." Steve shook his head slowly. "They don't know why."

Suddenly, the Archer's concern extended beyond the Spy. The Soldier's right arm and shoulder were in a sling, his body wrapped in bandages, and a hospital gown hung loosely over his broad frame. His skin, though cleansed of dust and ash, still bore faint smudges stubbornly etched into his angry pink flesh. That wasn't unusual for the Avengers. But the sadness and desolation in his leader's always-brave face struck Clint the hardest. "And… how are you?" he asked quietly.

Steve shook his head again. Beside him, a tray of untouched food and empty bottles of high-calorie drinks sat forgotten.

Standing in the doorway, Dr. Watson and Nurse Jenkins shared a worried look. They had ruled out internal bleeding and fractures with portable X-rays and ultrasound, but only CT and MRI scans could confirm there were no deeper injuries.

Quick to assess any situation, Hawkeye gave a slight bow to the clinicians and gently held Natasha's other hand. "Go, Cap. I'll stay with her."

In that moment, the two friends shared a heavy, unspoken bond — the fear of losing her. The Soldier couldn't imagine leaving her side, but he trusted the Archer — the only other person the Spy would be comfortable with. Despite their brotherly agreement, neither man made eye contact, afraid of letting the other down.

Steve's gaze lingered on Natasha before he reluctantly released her hand. "Fine," he grumbled. Moving carefully, the assistant nurse began to push his reclining wheelchair toward the examination room. "Clint, call me if—" he urged.

"Will do, Steve. Right away."

After being re-bandaged, medicated, and subjected to a series of scans, it became clear that the Super-Soldier's enhanced physique had allowed him to withstand an onslaught that no ordinary human could. Despite his significantly stronger and more resilient bones and muscles, the whole ordeal had left its mark. His already seared right arm suffered multiple muscle strains, and there were minor overextensions elsewhere. Blood tests reflected his normal healing response to the trauma. Thankfully, no other complications were found.

The Archer watched as the Captain returned, and they nodded silently to each other. Nancy adjusted Steve's reclining wheelchair so he could be near Natasha as his recovery bed was being prepared. With his good hand, he gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender and filled with longing. I'm back, Nat… he promised silently.

Understanding his friend's need for privacy, Clint offered, "I'll be outside, okay? Call me. Anytime."

"Thanks," the Soldier breathed.

Resigned, he allowed the nurses to settle him on the right side of the Spy. Despite his superhuman resolve, the pain and helplessness plagued him — a stark reminder of his own vulnerability. Nonetheless, one of the perks of having your own hospital was being able to bend the rules as you pleased. Though they required different levels of care, no one would question keeping them together.

Back where he belonged, the Blond lovingly stroked the Redhead's hand, his eyes closed as he whispered, "Everything's gonna be okay, my love."

Although patient information was confidential, the Avengers had previously agreed to share general updates post-mission. After briefing the team on Natasha and Steve's condition, Banner joined them in the waiting room.

Despite the somber circumstances, they exchanged battle stories. Tony and Bruce recounted testing two sets of Avengers LMDs against Kronas' minions in D.C. and Chicago, respectively, without killing anyone. Meanwhile, Thor boasted about stranding Lukin on the desolate Hans Island between Greenland and Canada, also without any casualties.

When Hawkeye arrived, the conversation paused, and they turned to him.

"Nat is… she looks so young… But she's tough, right?" His voice broke as he asked quietly, "She'll pull through, won't she?"

"Of course she will," Banner reassured him.

Stepping forward, the Prince placed a firm hand on Clint's shoulder. "Lady Natasha is a warrior. Fear not, for she shall overcome this trial."

The Archer shook his head. "But Cap… I've never seen him like that. He's barely holding it together… He only left her side for a few moments to let Linda take care of him… 'Cause I was there, y'know?"

"Let me see." Opening his StarkPad, Bruce quickly checked the Captain's overall status. "Oh, man… Besides the second-degree burns, his right arm has taken quite a beating. No serious internal injuries, thank goodness. But… He must be hurting more than he's letting on…"

"We won't bother him, okay? But we need to find out what happened," Tony commanded. "JARVIS, where's Sam?"

The AI responded promptly, "Agent Wilson is still in West Virginia, sir. He is unharmed and searching for the Winter Soldier."

The Avengers exchanged solemn glances, their expressions heavy with worry.

Throughout the first day, the Spy was closely monitored. Bed-bound, the Soldier received nutrient-rich liquid meals, advanced healing treatments, and cutting-edge pain relief. Despite his limited mobility, he stayed attentive and caring by her side.

On his next visit, Clint settled into a recliner next to Natasha's bed, his coffee and StarkPad at hand, offering Steve quiet, steady support. After almost two days running on pure willpower, the Super-Soldier finally yielded to tiredness, accepting a sedative from the night shift nurse.

Sunday.

Upon his arrival, Falcon headed straight to the waiting room to join the other Avengers.

"You okay, Sam?"

"Yeah, Tony. The armor held up fine."

"Of course it did. I invented it. Now tell me what I don't know. What happened to Romanoff?"

"The Winter Soldier shot her. I'm sorry. It's my fault."

"He's a sniper legend for a reason. Guy doesn't miss. But go on, what else?"

"Actually, they shot at each other. Cap threw his shield to block the shots. Even knowing Romanoff had the tranquilizer gun, he wasn't taking any chances with the other guy. Neither did I. I tried to get her out of the line of fire… I thought I did. Soon after, we were side by side, watching Cap use the Cube to get Barnes' memories back…"

"Whoa! Don't tell me Aladdin's Lamp worked."

"Looks like it did, Tony. One moment, the device was just humming, and the next, there was a flash. Barnes fell to the floor, crying… I swear, it was heartbreaking… He said he wanted to die…"

The Archer cut in. "Is he dead? Did you find his body?"

"No. He disappeared after the blast. Cap had me stay behind to search. I flew around the perimeter. The entrance was buried, so it seems he escaped on foot. I've been sweeping the entire area and returned today for another pass." Sam then held up a weapon. "I just found his gun in the woods outside the facility, loaded with darts. It wasn't there yesterday, and it doesn't look like he dropped it by mistake. He must've placed it there intentionally, so… he's still around."

"Right. I'll kill him myself."

The Genius knew he had to step up. "Barton, stop. We're all worried about Romanoff, but remember Barnes means a lot to Rogers."

Mourning Loki, Thor spoke empathetically. "I know your anger, friend Archer. We all seek to protect Lady Natasha. But I know the Captain's struggle, for he sees this man as a brother, despite his wrongs. They shared their youth. Loki, too, was cast into darkness, yet he was still my brother."

Just the mention of that name could set Clint off, but now only Natasha mattered. "Don't," he said sharply, raising his hand. "The Winter Soldier put Nat in a COMA! You better keep him out of my sight!"

"Barton, relax. She's not in a coma. She's just… sleeping. And they both need you." Bruce took the gun, his tone soothing as he tried to calm everyone down. "Thanks, Wilson. I'll get this analyzed right away."

Fighting to control his rage, the Archer rubbed his temples as Tony asked, "Well, I still don't buy it, but I need to analyze the Cube. Where is it, Sam?"

"That won't be possible. The Winter Soldier blew it to pieces."

As Banner was about to leave, he turned back. "Wait a minute! Was it the Cube that exploded? We didn't want to bother Steve with questions, but… How are you guys even alive? I mean… That thing was a WMD, wasn't it? "

"Apparently not, Doc. The Law of Conservation of Energy should apply, but… Maybe most of its power was converted when Cap made his wish? Who knows how that alien tech was supposed to work?"

"It doesn't make sense," the Genius was also intrigued. "The Cube's energy signature is unlike anything I've ever seen."

"Yeah," Sam shrugged. "When Barnes smashed it, I felt the heat first, short-range, but it dissipated quickly. We're lucky the Cube didn't release the same amount of energy we thought it had gathered."

Bruce exclaimed, "Thank God!"

The Rookie recalled the chaos. "The shock wave came after, no idea why, knocking us down and shattering the concrete structure. I heard the building cracking before I could even see it."

"How long did it take for you guys to get out?"

"Half an hour at most, Doc. If I'd been alone I'd have gotten out faster, but I had to be careful with them."

"Good work, Wilson," the Doctor assented.

Checking Falcon's armor log, the Genius frowned, "You didn't record anything? I only found automatic reports."

"Sorry, Tony, there was no time. The walls were giving way, and the whole place started to collapse. I used the wings as cover and the lasers to clear a path. But when we got out, Romanoff was passed out in Cap's arms. I called JARVIS, and I suppose you know the rest." The Rookie ended his report with a heavy heart, his shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry I failed."

Always blunt, Stark went right to the point. "She would've been hit anyway. But if you weren't there…"

"You delivered them from peril, friend Falcon," Thor praised, clapping him on the back.

Sam shook his head. "She was my partner, I should've—"

"You saved their lives, kid," the Archer interrupted, his tone softer now. "Injured as he was, Cap alone wouldn't have been able to get them out so fast. And without prompt medical attention, who knows what could've happened to them? If I were there, I wouldn't be much help."

Bruce gestured towards the door. "Exactly. Now, Wilson, go tell Cap the news. It'll cheer him up."

Sam acknowledged, turning to leave, but paused. "SHIELD arrived before I left. Fury promised to keep them away, didn't he?"

"That's suspicious… Fury wouldn't betray Cap." Clint considered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

The wind howled as he observed the building below. The people there were oblivious they were being watched. Fools. No one knew anything — not about him, not about his life. The hole in his heart was unbearable, making it impossible to breathe. The suffocating memories relentlessly burned what was left of his tormented soul.

I can't believe he said, 'Remember who you are.' Leave it to Steve to think that would fix everything. Bring back his long-lost partner. Erase all of the horrible things I've done. He was wounded, exhausted. Broken. Dammit, Steve…

There was only one path left. They'll pay for all their sins.

Bruce was right — as soon Steve heard the news, hope sparked in his heart. Bucky's alive.

Seeing his unwavering leader lying injured in a hospital bed, holding his partner's hand while she remained unconscious, Falcon's guilt deepened. Looking at the Spy, he murmured, "I failed her. I'm sorry."

The Soldier shook his head. "Told you before… You saved us."

"I should've seen it."

"Not your fault."

"Please, Cap, tell me what I can do."

Despite being focused on Natasha's recovery, the Captain saw the stress in the younger Avenger — he knew his team very well. Sam wouldn't rest until he made some amends, so he needed a challenging task to occupy his brilliant mind.

"Find Bucky. Keep SHIELD off him."

Falcon straightened, his eyes now burning with determination. "I'm on it, Cap."

In the quiet hospital room, the Blond wrestled with his conflicted emotions. The steady rhythm of the Redhead's breathing was his only anchor in the chaos of his mind.

Given the severity of his burns, he figured Bucky was likely in worse shape. But… He is alive… Reliving his partner's fall from that fateful train in 1944, the Captain could never have dreamed of this outcome. Now, all he could hope was that his best friend — his brother — was free from any mind control. He still had no proof that the Cosmic Cube had worked. Who could? But seeing Bucky's reaction, the despair in his eyes as his memories returned… Steve believed it… he had faith…

But at what cost?

The awful truth was that Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes didn't choose this path. He never had a choice. Enslaved by the KGB decades ago and freed by Captain America, the Winter Soldier would have to pay a high price, forced to bear a burden few could endure. On top of dealing with his conscience, the once-lauded WWII hero would have to face the law and answer for crimes he was forced to commit. As a former assassin, he had a long road ahead to regain everyone's trust… and his real freedom.

The noble, idealistic Captain was torn. Growing up, he'd always striven to do what was right and did everything he could to help anyone in need. Steve had to save his best friend. Period. That was the right thing to do. But… was it also right for Bucky? Since his friend had no free will to make his own choices, the Soldier had decided for him. Still, as he matured, his worldview had expanded. He'd never compromise his morals or ethical values, and he'd always do what was right — as long as it was for the right reason. So he wondered…

Was I selfish in wanting Bucky back? He had no answer.

Nonetheless, at that moment, he couldn't hold himself together. Natasha was in grave danger, and he felt responsible for the whole situation. Unlike Bucky, she was capable of making her own decisions. Steve always respected and supported her. But…

Could I have stopped her from going on that mission? Should I have? As a leader, he had the authority to command. But he'd never misuse his power — especially not over her. She had a job to do too. But…

Should I have insisted, demanded? Maybe. But it wouldn't have been fair to her, and she probably wouldn't have followed his orders anyway.

Not a chance.

They would have clashed, and it would have been ugly. So… Could he risk her resenting him — or worse, leaving him?

No. He never wanted to upset her. But what would he do to keep her safe?

Anything. Everything. He would die for her. No question. But…

Could he live without her love?

Absolutely not.

Natasha was his everything… and… without her, Steve felt… hollow…

His fingers gripped hers, her warmth offering a quiet solace as he prayed. Father… please… I ask for Your mercy… bring her home safely…

After wandering through that ghastly, chimerical world that was never meant to be… the teenager was exhausted… Struggling to stay focused, she traveled down an ethereal path… trying to escape both the grip of the dark visions and the consuming blinding light… Tears rolled down her cheeks… as she silently prayed for the strength to continue…

And it was at that precise moment that she found… or rather, felt… something different… The first and only familiar sensation she had in that alien place… She couldn't quite describe it, but it was when… where… she felt a sense of comfort…

There was something nearby… someone… A presence so welcoming… she could almost feel… Him.

Steve's calm voice filled the room as he told Natasha about their dog's recent antics, just as Dr. Watson arrived to introduce the neurologist.

One of the new members of the medical team, Dr. Keith Kincaid, had a PhD in Cognitive Neuroscience and a specialization in Clinical Neurology, among other impressive qualifications. The brilliant 35-year-old was kind but very shy, and had attended Culver University with Jane Foster.

After conducting a new series of tests, he explained, "I've reviewed Agent Romanoff's brain activity. So far, there are no signs of damage, and everything is functioning normally. She's breathing independently and has regular REM sleep. The mild concussion is showing signs of fast recovery, and these are all encouraging signs."

The Soldier clenched his jaw. "But why isn't she waking up?"

"The drug might be affecting brain regions responsible for wakefulness. We're still identifying its components and their effects. Unfortunately, this takes time."

"I understand. It's just… it's taking too long… I can't help but worry…"

The CMO, who had been observing quietly, intervened. "I know it's difficult, Captain, but these things can be unpredictable. But Dr. Kincaid is here to monitor her closely and address any issues that arise."

"I appreciate that, Dr. Watson," he dipped his head, his voice quieter now. "I just… wish there was more I could do…"

Keith spoke up, his tone gentler. "Your part is the most important, Captain Rogers. Even while she's unconscious, your presence is crucial for her emotional well-being."

Linda smiled. "Yes, you're her anchor, Cap."

Taking a steadying breath, the Soldier looked between the two doctors, his heart heavy but bolstered by their words. "Thank you, both of you."

As the doctors exited, Steve turned his attention back to Natasha. Their words echoed in his mind, solidifying his resolve. For the first time in the past few days, he didn't feel completely helpless.

With a quiet groan, he shifted in his bed, flinching as his dressings pulled painfully against his flesh. He leaned a bit closer to her, his thumb tracing slow, careful circles on her hand. The steady rhythm of his touch matched the quiet words he whispered to her, filled with all the love and reassurance he could muster. "I'm right here, Nat. I'm not going anywhere."

As the second day progressed, the lab worked tirelessly to identify the unknown drug used in the darts. After comprehensive neurological testing, Dr. Kincaid confirmed the Spy's normal brain activity — she was even dreaming. However, his attempts to wake her with sensory stimulation failed.

Being right-handed, Steve had difficulty performing everyday tasks with his left hand and didn't want to waste time eating. Not letting Natasha feel alone, he sought comfort in her presence — her hand was his lifeline more than the other way around. Clint spent another night watching over them — the only time the Soldier accepted sedation.

Clinical nutritionist Anna Ameyama continually refined a menu of high-calorie smoothies and nutrient-dense soups tailored specifically for the Captain. The young but talented head chef of the Tower's private restaurant, who was the grandniece of the late Edwin Jarvis, had her hands full with the medical floor operating at maximum capacity, and the influx of staff and consultants staying at the Tower. However, her primary focus remained nourishing the Avengers — especially those in recovery.

Monday.

Another couple was also facing challenges.

After going through SHIELD's news, Clint called his wife.

"Birdie, I need intel. Where's Fury?"

"He's AWOL. There was an attack on his car on Saturday. We looked everywhere, but still nothing."

"Oh. And… any clue who did it?"

"Nope. They say he went underground to investigate further."

"Hmm. So, Hill's in charge?"

"Yeah. She already asked why Fury sent us after Lukin. I told her I only knew about the WMD."

"Mmm-hmm."

"And she also asked me about the Avengers."

"What about? What did you tell her?"

"Exactly what I know, Clint. That we couldn't touch Lukin, so Thor stranded him on that island. You were called back to the Tower, and I came here for debriefing."

"Right."

"She hasn't called you? She's looking for Romanoff."

"No. Okay. I… I'll warn her."

"So, where is she?"

"Who?"

"Natasha."

"Um… She's… undisclosed location."

"Hmm… Sure… And Cap?"

"Well… Him too."

"Right…"

"Yep."

"You can't tell me, can you, Clint?"

"I-I… I'm sorry, birdie…"

"Hmph."

"Bobbi, please… It's not my call."

"Sigh. You know what? I don't wanna know…"

"Ah, thanks, honey."

"Anyway, I'm leading the task force to look for Fury, so I won't be back anytime soon."

"Oh, I miss you…"

"You better."

"Please, be careful…"

"Always. You too, sport…"

"Don't worry. I'll be right here. Call me if you need anything, okay? Anything at all."

"Okay. Love you… Mwah…"

"Love you too."

The Archer hung up, his thoughts colliding. Both seasoned SHIELD agents knew Fury's operating keyword was compartmentalization. The old spy never trusted anyone completely — each agent only knew their respective part. To be fair, that was the spies' basic MO.

First and foremost, Hawkeye was an Avenger, but he didn't want to jeopardize his wife's career. So, the less she knew, the better. But maintaining a relationship was tough with so many secrets. Beyond worrying about his friends, he now had to navigate what he could or couldn't share with his wife.

Doubt gnawed at him, sharpening with each second. Trapped in a deadlock, would Bobbi choose her marriage or her job? And what about him? Was his loyalty to his wife or his team? Even entertaining those thoughts felt like a betrayal. Still, Clint didn't have time to dwell on it.

After hearing the news, Tony's irritation spiked. "That explains the flood of messages from Director Hill. She's hounding me, demanding to speak to Romanoff."

"Officially, Natasha was investigating Lukin because of the attack on Cap at the Triskelion. Fury was after the Winter Soldier, but there's no concrete proof of his existence, let alone any connection to Barnes."

"Do you think he attacked Fury?"

"No. That was staged," Clint explained. "But Barnes is on every major Most Wanted list. Hill will seize any chance to make a statement. We can't let her get anywhere near here."

"Don't worry. She won't get through. But I thought you didn't like the guy."

"I'll handle Barnes myself. But I don't want Cap or Nat dragged further into this mess. He's already too worried."

As if their situation weren't grave enough, the dart analysis revealed even more disturbing news.

After obtaining the Captain's permission to share the sensitive information, Bruce assembled the Avengers by his bedside. "JARVIS, initiate privacy mode."

"It's on, Dr. Banner," the AI responded promptly.

"Well… Dr. Watson discovered that Romanoff was injected with a neurotoxin — a substance that directly affects the nervous system. This particular neurotoxin is entirely unknown and undetectable in the bloodstream. Isolating it was difficult, even with the darts. They're working on decoding its chemical structure, but they've already determined that it specifically targets the brain."

Clint's voice cut through the silence. "What does that mean?"

A heavy quiet settled over the team as Bruce mustered the courage to continue. Few conversations were this delicate. "Cap… Tell me if I understood correctly. Did Lukin intend to… brainwash her?"

The room was thick with wordless fears. "Dammit!" the Archer muttered.

The Soldier's chest tightened, and he gave a slow, deliberate nod.

"I'm really sorry. We still need to understand how this neurotoxin functions. But there's a risk we can't ignore. We can't predict who she might be when she wakes up."

Bruce's words hit Steve harder than any blow he had ever taken from the Hulk. Without taking his eyes off Natasha, he asked quietly, "When will she wake up?"

Clint leaned forward, his voice sharp with desperation. "She'll wake up, right?"

What was worse — her waking up brainwashed or not at all?

Banner hesitated, his breathing uneven. "We can't be sure yet. Dr. Watson brought in neurologist Dr. Kincaid. Betty… Dr. Ross has joined the team as well. Now that we know what we're dealing with, we can work on minimizing the effects and improving Romanoff's condition. But…" He paused, making sure to meet everyone's eyes. "For now, no one else needs to know about this… this… possibility, okay? It won't change how the medical team treats her."

They nodded in agreement, though the unease lingered, and Bruce considered, "But, Barton, maybe you could reach out to someone at SHIELD for assistance?"

"No, Banner! SHIELD can't know about this!" His outburst only intensified the tension, but he quickly clarified, "There's a protocol for… mind-controlled agents. I know…" Memories of Loki flooded his mind. "They'll demand she be taken into custody and kept under lock and key."

The Soldier snapped, "Over my dead body!"

Remembering how his brother had once enslaved both Hawkeye and Dr. Selvig during the Battle of New York — something he always blamed himself for — Thor sought to make amends. "Fret not, Captain, for none shall harm Lady Natasha whilst I draw breath. I swear this upon my honor," he vowed, his voice steady and solemn. "You have always stood as our shield, defending all with boundless courage. Now rest and heal, my friend, for even the mightiest warrior must gather his strength."

Meeting the Asgardian's resolute gaze, Steve felt a flicker of calm. He allowed himself to lean back slightly, giving a soft sigh of relief. "Thank you."

After the Avengers left, the Soldier received a much pleasant visit.

While still a professor of Cellular Biology at Culver University, in Willowdale, Virginia, Bruce's girlfriend often stayed at the Tower and was his go-to for assistance. At 43, Dr. Elizabeth Ross' expertise in pharmacology made her the ideal choice to lead a team tasked with breaking down the neurotoxin's components to develop an antidote. As one of the scientists who had thawed the Captain in 2011, she was among the first people he met. Trusting her abilities, he had granted her access to the Spy's blood samples and sealed results, which contained essential information for finding a cure.

After conducting her analysis, the Biologist returned with a thoughtful expression. "Natasha's test results showed something curious — her immune system is stronger than expected. Not at your level, but it's certainly enhanced."

Steve stiffened at the mention of it. "Hmm…"

"But this doesn't add up," she continued, "Such a high improvement cannot be her body's natural response alone. And normally, a drug won't boost the very system meant to combat it. Given her history of rapid recovery, I don't think it's temporary."

His eyes widened slightly, his focus sharp. "Wait… you're saying her immune system should've eliminated the neurotoxin?"

"At the current levels, it should've been more effective. Typically, our immune systems fend off common pathogens, neutralizing their effects. I tested your cells, and you've high immunity to all known infections and diseases — this neurotoxin included. Although stronger than average, Natasha's defenses aren't responding the way they should."

"Why not?"

"That's the crazy part." She lowered her voice. "It seems that this drug knows how to bypass her defenses. So, I can't help but wonder if she might've had something similar to your serum, like Bruce. And there might be a connection somewhere."

Having worked on Project Gamma Pulse in 2001 to help create Bruce's serum, Betty had also studied Captain America's Project Rebirth. She was one of the few who grasped the unique aspects of the subject, and the Soldier knew it.

His posture betrayed his turmoil. Leaning his head back against the pillow, he closed his eyes briefly, trying to focus. Almost no one knew that Natasha had received the Red Room serum, and he would never break her trust. But… this information might be crucial for her recovery.

A heavy sigh escaped him. "I can't say anything about that. But what I do know is… and Betty, this is classified mission intel, okay?"

"Of course, Cap."

"The neurotoxin was created by the KGB." He carefully revealed the detail, trusting that the brilliant scientist would discern the rest, if she hadn't already.

"Ah! That explains everything," she continued, her mind working quickly, connecting the dots. "Natasha worked for the Russian government before she defected, right?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"I've read some old KGB reports about their super-soldiers. I guess… they must've created this neurotoxin specifically to bypass the heightened defenses from a serum they gave her. And given its effects on the brain, possibly for manipulative purposes. Unbelievable." She paused, reflecting on the implications. "Knowing that this type of drug exists, and who knows how many more, I understand why she kept her enhancements a secret."

Steve's expression grew serious as he urged, "Exactly. That's why this needs to stay between us."

"Of course, Cap. Even without an NDA, this is about patient confidentiality. That's why I came to you," she assured him with a smile. "Don't worry, okay?"

"Thanks."

"And the best part is…" Betty leaned in, "I'm developing a primer — a treatment to prepare her cells to respond to the antidote more efficiently. With this new information, I can tailor it for her unique physiology."

The Soldier exhaled with relief. "You're incredible. Thank you so much."

Blushing slightly, she replied, "Just doing my job."

Everyone rallied around Natasha, and Steve needed that support now more than ever.

In addition to funding everything, Iron Man acted as their protective armor. "I told SHIELD to back off. But just in case… the top floors are on Avengers-Only Protocol. And JARVIS is overseeing all operations as usual."

Without a doubt, one of the greatest advantages of being Stark's guest was having access to his marvelous creation. The AI managed Tony's residences, and security was its domain. "The firewalls are active, and no breaches have been detected so far. Agent Romanoff kept her files on the Winter Soldier and the investigation encrypted here. There is data even I cannot access. And rest assured, I protect all information based on clearance levels and the need-to-know principle."

As the closest thing to family, Clint set up camp in one of the rooms next to the ICU, ready to step in whenever Steve needed him. Ever vigilant, Hawkeye also kept an eye on SHIELD. "It was Hill who sent agents to West Virginia on Saturday. She's already pursuing the Winter Soldier, but with only Carter's testimony, she's got nothing solid. JARVIS is keeping tabs on them."

Hacking into systems was effortless for the AI. "I have implemented a passive alert system for any red-flag keywords tied to our current operations. Director Hill has been contacted by the Canadian military, who located General Lukin on Hans Island and are coordinating a rescue plan. Supplies have been dropped, but Arctic weather conditions are causing delays. SHIELD has confirmed that no one suspects the Avengers' involvement. No other related activities have been detected."

The Asgardian Prince spoke with pride. "That desolate land bears likeness to Niflheim, the realm of ice and mist. None shall witness my actions, as the Thunderer's storm cloaks all from prying eyes."

Encouragement was another of the AI's strengths. "Indeed, Master Thor. Utilizing the storm to send the plane tumbling over Greenland was an excellent choice to simulate a natural occurrence."

Determined as ever, the youngest Avenger never gave up in his search for Bucky. Falcon continued to call in with updates. "SHIELD searched the ruins but there was no sign we were even there. And they didn't find the Winter Soldier either. But I think he's still in the area. Barnes must've been burned too, right? I've been expanding the perimeter, covering roads and back trails, and scanning for anything unusual. JARVIS is watching everything."

The AI's surveillance capabilities were unmatched. "All airports, bus, and train stations are being monitored, though it is unlikely the Winter Soldier will travel by public transportation. I am also listening to local police channels for any suspicious reports. Facial recognition algorithms are scanning all surveillance feeds within a 200-mile radius, but so far, no relevant matches have been detected."

Although all these tasks were crucial, JARVIS' most important work at the moment was in the laboratory. As Betty explained, "Predicting how a substance might interact with human cells allows us to develop and test potential primers and antidotes more quickly and accurately."

Linda added, "We're basing our model on drugs that mimic similar effects."

Programming and data analysis were the AI' forte. "Based on preliminary input from Dr. Ross and Dr. Watson, I cross-referenced known toxin data to develop a provisional computational model. This will be refined as more accurate data comes in, ensuring every new piece of information improves the simulation of the neurotoxin, primer, and antidote's behavior in biological systems."

They were racing against the clock, and JARVIS assisted them with unparalleled speed and efficiency.

Meanwhile, Bucky was moving with equal urgency, focused entirely on his next steps. No one had ever truly known what he was capable of, nor had anyone managed to stop him before. I can't undo my past. I can't be the hero Steve wanted me to be. But I can do this one thing.

He had been doing stealth missions most of his life. That was what he had been trained for as Cap's partner during the war. That was what the Russians had used him for. Remaining unseen and moving like a ghost were second nature to him. However, dealing with people now posed an entirely different challenge. I know what Steve would do here… But I'm not Steve…

After breaking into a warehouse for intel, he let revenge consume him, losing himself in the explosion of violence… The sound of bones and teeth breaking under my fists… He couldn't help but remember the bar fights growing up, or the war overseas, punching Nazis. Back when he was simply… himself. Now? I… I don't know what I am anymore… but I know these aren't innocent men. Mercenaries. Outlaws. Killers for hire.

And he kept hurting them even after he knew they wouldn't tell him anything more. Because they deserve it. And because he was angry. And helpless. The worst part? I almost liked it. Maybe because this is where I belong… in the darkness…

Soon enough, the warehouse was strewn with bodies — alive, but barely. I can't help thinking that Steve would be ashamed of me right now. And that makes me miss him even more than I realized I could…

His best friend's voice echoed in his mind, 'You were better than this, Buck'.

No, I'm not… I never was. And these scumbags? They deserve no mercy — not after what they did to me… to her… to so many.

Nothing could stop him now. He would finish this, no matter the cost.

As the current Avengers leader, Tony also had to think about their safety. Unfortunately, it also meant being prepared for the worst-case scenario. If Black Widow woke up brainwashed, they needed to prevent her from escaping — or harming anyone.

The team gathered around the Captain's bed again, and as soon as JARVIS activated the privacy mode, the Genius spoke, "Cap, I've been thinking… As a precaution, I want to move you both to Hulk's secure cell. We can set up an ICU there, and it's the safest place in the Tower. Is that okay?"

Having already thought of every possibility, the Soldier didn't waver and nodded. But preparing this contingency plan was daunting, even for a seasoned strategist like Captain America.

Overseeing Natasha's care, Bruce added calmly, "But don't worry, it won't be right away. We'll leave that option for when the antidote is applied, all right?"

"Thanks," Steve replied quietly.

The gravity of the situation bore down on everyone, and the burden of guilt once again settled over Falcon, who promised, "I won't stop until we find the Winter Soldier. He caused this, so he must know how to fix it."

Even while sidelined, the Captain still felt responsible for leading his team. "Bucky isn't the Winter Soldier anymore…"

Concerned that he was compromised, the Genius argued, "You don't know that, Steve. We don't even know what the Cube's done to him. We can't trust the guy."

"He's already helping us, Tony. You heard Sam. The first thing Bucky did was leave the gun with the darts. Deliberately. You don't have to trust him, but trust me. I know him."

"I can't believe you're still defending this assassin after what he did to Natasha!" Clint stormed out, and the rest of the team shared anxious looks. While they understood that this was very personal for the Archer, it was even more so for the Soldier.

Arguably the most powerful among them, the Prince, neither scientist nor healer, had taken a back seat. However, having also experienced deep tragedy involving his non-blood brother, he shared a profound, sorrowful bond with Steve, forging a unique understanding between them. Also stationed in one of the nearby rooms, guarding them, Thor continued to offer emotional support. "Worry not, good Captain. He shall return."

The stress on the Soldier's face was unmistakable as he muttered, "I really can't deal with this now…"

"We have fought many battles side by side, and this one we shall win as well. Even in the blackest hour, there is hope."

"On the battlefield, I'd know what to do…"

"I grasp your pain. When I sought my brother's aid to save Jane, none among my friends trusted him."

"How did you manage?"

Thor's voice darkened with grief. "I… did not. I could not place my trust in Loki either… until the end… until it was too late… and he perished to save me…"

That was a mistake Steve didn't want to make. Feeling exhausted, he closed his eyes and could only pray. Please, Father… watch over her… and grant me Your strength…

Through the bleak mist, the teenager still couldn't see anything… but she certainly felt… Him! Although she didn't know who he was, she knew she needed to find him… and that push was enough to keep her going… Ignoring pain and fear, she gathered her last strength…

It took a while and a lot of concentration… as she fought for her life and sanity… looking back and forth between the deadly white void and the all-encompassing, almost palpable numbing blackness… Until… she blinked a few times to ease the burning in her eyes… and then saw a boy, not much older than her, approaching from a distance…

His blond hair shone… a splash of color in that monochrome world… Her heart fluttered… and she was immediately drawn to him… They ran and met halfway!

By the third day, Steve's burns had healed considerably, now requiring dressings only twice a day. Though his fragile skin and sore muscles still made it difficult to move unaided, he took comfort in sitting beside Natasha. Yet, his appetite waned further, and despite Clint's constant companionship, the Soldier slept only in brief, restless naps. He remained alert, yearning for any sign of recognition from her. His anxiety became more evident as no solution emerged.

Regardless, one question loomed over everyone — what lasting effects would this neurotoxin have on the Black Widow?

Tuesday.

Despite exhausting every resource in their arsenal, there was still no sign of Bucky.

JARVIS summarized their progress. "The Winter Soldier is indeed a ghost."

Sam ran a hand over his head, frustration evident in his voice as he spoke. "I don't know where else to look. SHIELD came up empty as well."

Ever skeptical, Tony cut in, "Barnes has been hiding for 70 years. We won't find him unless he wants to be found."

Sensing the team's waning morale, Bruce encouraged them, "But we need to keep trying, right? For Steve and Natasha both."

Unexpectedly, Clint joined in. "Yeah. He's our only lead to find a cure."

"Whoa. You trust the assassin now, Hawkeye?"

"No, Falcon. But some mad scientist somewhere provided him with those darts."

"Exactly," Banner agreed. "We need the full neurotoxin formula to create an antidote, and our lab hasn't cracked it yet."

"Ah, I should've known," Sam gestured affirmatively. "Hawk's always on target."

Tilting his head, Clint smirked, "And I'm gonna get my hands on him. Win-win."

"Don't forget we can't let Barnes get hurt," Tony scolded, surprising himself with how much he sounded like Steve.

"That would break Cap more than he already is," Bruce agreed somberly.

Hawkeye shrugged, his voice flat, "I make no promises."

But despite the seemingly relaxed atmosphere, the situation remained very serious, as the Prince reminded. "My friends, I have sworn that I shall guard them, thus I cannot journey to Asgard. Yet, I have sent word to Heimdall to convey a message unto our healer, Eir. It is a slim hope, but perhaps she may uncover a cure for Lady Natasha's affliction. After hers, the Captain's health must be our foremost concern."

"Thor, I was meant to ask… can't your friend Heimdall find the Winter Soldier for us? I mean… isn't he the one who sees everything?"

The room fell silent as all eyes turned hopefully to the God of Thunder, who replied with a touch of sadness, "I wish it were so. Heimdall is all-seeing and all-hearing. His sight spans all Nine Realms, and he seldom sleeps. But alas, bound by the Oath of Neutrality, he can only intervene in Asgardian matters."

They were all disappointed.

Steve grew increasingly restless. As time went by, his anxiety became more and more unbearable. The Soldier had never been good at doing nothing. But the worst part was accepting that… there was nothing he could do to help her… no one he could punch… Dammit, Buck… What did you do?

His heart shattered as he remembered everything the Spy had told him about the Red Room, its various mind control techniques, and her worst nightmare. 'Lukin wants to enslave me and use me as a weapon again…' Steve didn't know how, but he would never allow Natasha to be mind-controlled. He would never let her forget who she was, who they were, or their life together.

Sitting beside her bed, he vowed with all his heart, "I won't let that happen."

Despite everything, she looked so peaceful… so beautiful… There was another very important thing she had told him… They could tamper with memories but couldn't fake feelings. He rose carefully, his own suffering a silent companion, and kissed her forehead tenderly, holding her hand close to her heart. With every word, he poured out his soul, whispering their love mantra, "I love you, Nat. Love you… You…"

The connection between the two teenagers was immediate… powerful… She felt the heat he radiated as he held her hand… it fit perfectly in his… no tricks or illusions… She was immensely relieved… He felt nothing but real!

In sharp contrast, the ghostly shapes wanted to imprison her in false, cold-hearted dreams… Just the thought made her tremble with fear… her body weakened… and her eyes began to close… But as she faltered… she felt his hand supporting her… His touch was gentle and tender… yet strong and confident… and she didn't hesitate and threw herself into his open, comforting arms… Completely enveloped by his warmth… she caught a glimpse of her vivid, fiery hair flowing around her… a reflection… as she dove into his peaceful blue eyes…

The blond was her haven, and nothing mattered other than being with him… The redhead needed him… and together, she knew, they could face anything!

After four days, trauma and orthopedic physician Dr. Cecilia Reyes had both superheroes in passive physical therapy. Natasha's mild ankle sprain had improved with cryotherapy and elevation, allowing for massage to further reduce swelling. Steve's burns had also shown significant progress, reducing the risk of skin tearing during gentle exercises aimed at enhancing mobility and aiding muscle recovery. However, his thigh remained especially sensitive, restricting his movements. Normally very active, the Soldier struggled to remain still for extended periods. He spent much of his time sitting beside the Spy, occasionally with minimal assistance, though he would often pace back and forth with a slight limp whenever she was examined or tested. His overall recovery lagged due to poor nutrition and lack of sleep, raising concerns about his physical and mental health.

Although Natasha's condition remained stable, Dr. Kincaid discovered mild inflammation in her brain during routine tests, raising concerns about potential long-term neurological effects. Dr. Watson decided they needed to investigate further before alarming Steve, prioritizing his recovery and ensuring he was not unnecessarily stressed.

Wednesday.

Fatigue and irritation weighed heavily on the Avengers and their support group. Without Steve and Natasha's steady presence, the team felt disconnected.

Barely leaving the lab, Betty's frustration mounted as delays continued. "We've cracked part of the formula, but it's still not enough for an antidote." Collaborating closely, the scientist couple supported one another, yet their intense workload left them drained, unable to offer the comfort each truly needed.

While decoding the drug with his girlfriend, Bruce juggled doctors, researchers, and supported his friends. "After all this time, Dr. Kincaid fears that Romanoff may have some undetectable brain damage. Dr. Watson worries that Rogers is on the verge of breakdown, and his recovery may be compromised by lack of sleep and nutrition. Anna has tried everything, apart from hand-feeding him. To be fair, none of us are sleeping or eating properly." Overwhelmed by the weight of his responsibilities, he sighed, "I don't know what else I can do."

While exhausting local searches, Sam also used Stark satellites to aid in the effort, but without success. He called constantly to share information, feeling increasingly beaten and missing the support and encouragement of his team. "I've reached a dead end. The Winter Soldier is good at hiding. Unless we can lure him somewhere or predict where he'll be…"

"SHIELD already tried everything. So far, Barnes seems too smart to fall into a trap," the Archer was equally disheartened. Work was keeping Clint apart from Bobbi, leaving him lonely and fearful of what might happen to his friends. "I've been watching over Nat everyday, seeing if Cap gets any sleep, but he gets uncomfortable after a while. I feel like I'm intruding."

Thor resisted Jane's pressure to meet her at an astrophysics conference in Italy, explaining that he was on a secret, highly critical mission. The Prince was deeply worried about the possibility of a tragic outcome. "I too have sought to keep Rogers company, but his sorrow runs deep, and our words grow fewer with each passing day. A heavy shadow looms over our Captain. Should Lady Natasha not rouse, it is not only she who we may lose."

"We don't even know who she'll be if…" Tony hesitated, never sounding so defeated, "when she wakes up." Driven by paranoia, he overcompensated, pouring money into every aspect of the operation. Nothing could be lacking, so he ensured that his supercomputers could handle the increasing demands alongside JARVIS' regular operations. "I've doubled the processing power by expanding the server capacity, but not all of the units have been delivered yet. Suppliers are working overtime to manufacture and ship the rest. The Tower's Arc Reactor can handle it all, so can our advanced cooling system. We'll be ready for the neurotoxin simulations." A natural multitasker, he managed the constant pressure from Director Hill and SHIELD, outwardly handling the extra workload with ease. The hardest part, however, was dealing with the questioning from his better half.

With all the Avengers and Betty practically living on the medical floor under lockdown, and Jane and Bobbi away for work, Pepper was left all alone. Worried about the mystery, she kept calling Tony, demanding updates. After much insistence, he let slip that Natasha was in a coma-like state and Steve was very, very stressed. Desperately wanting to help, she suggested, "Let me bring Sneg. Trust me, he will relax."

The Archer was uncertain. "Wait, can you even bring a dog into a hospital?"

That was one thing Tony could control, and he ordered, "It's my Tower. Bring it."

Despite being surrounded by loyal friends and capable experts, the Captain was torn between hope and dread, feeling more isolated than ever. The weight of his responsibility pressed down on him, suffocating in its intensity.

As he had done for days, Clint entered the room quietly, immediately sensing a shift as Natasha stirred in her sleep. Without hesitation, Steve leaned closer, his left hand brushed her cheek as his right held hers. The ache in his own body was irrelevant. His voice was low and soothing. "Shh… I'm here, Nat…"

Nurse Jenkins quickly checked the monitors, giving the Soldier a reassuring nod. The Archer, watching from the doorway, stepped close. "What's going on?"

Without looking away from the Redhead, the Blond replied quietly, "A nightmare." The answer hung heavy in the air, reflecting the broader ordeal they all faced beyond her troubled sleep.

Georgia gently guided Clint back, explaining, "Dreams means normal brain activity. It's a good sign."

The Archer dipped his head, beginning to understand why the Soldier adamantly refused to leave the Spy's side. The Captain's dedication wasn't just duty — it was desperation.

"You're safe, Nat. I'm right here, my love," his hand remained steady, even as his voice cracked under the strain. Slowly, she began to relax beneath his touch.

The pressure surrounding the teenager was building fast… Dreadful, indistinct figures still haunted her… she could feel the strength of their pull… and the searing throes of resisting them… But then… she felt his soft touch on her face… his firm hand anchoring her… Their eyes locked together… She saw him smiling at her… and she smiled back…

Neither fear nor pain bothered her… She wasn't alone… not anymore… and that meant everything… Dancing effortlessly between light and gloom, they moved as one… Focusing solely on him… she felt weightless in his arms… She felt… happy… and at peace… That sweet blond boy… the young redhead knew… was the one she wanted to hold close for the rest of her life… No matter how tired she was, he was worth fighting for.

Once Natasha calmed, Steve slumped into the chair beside her bed, his body betraying the toll of his emotional and physical exhaustion. I wasn't there. Guilt gnawed at him like an unhealed wound. He had been too long in physical therapy. She needed me. Now… her nightmares were back.

Dark thoughts spiraled, growing heavier with each turn. I failed her. Again. Letting her go on that mission, knowing she was a target — that had been his failure. Also, he hadn't acted fast enough. Dammit, Buck. I trusted you! The thought crept in before he could suppress it.

The resolve inside him hardened, laced with a painful edge. Never. Ever. Again. He wouldn't let her risk herself on another dangerous mission. He would forbid it if he had to. Nothing mattered more than keeping her safe. She's… She was everything. Mine.

Trembling hands pressed against his face. Father… I beg You… I can't lose her… The helplessness that had haunted him for days broke free, overtaken by a primal instinct to shield his woman… from everything.

Soon, Dr. Kincaid appeared with Dr. Watson in tow, ready for the next round of tests — a spinal tap this time. Rationally, Steve knew it was necessary. Yet his gut twisted in protest as he impotently watched his Natasha being once again handled without her consent. In his fractured mindset, it felt like a violation of her boundaries.

Her anguished words haunted him, hammering inside. 'I don't want anyone to touch me but you.'

His eyes tracked the long needle as it hovered near her back, anxiety tightening in his chest like a vice. He paced restlessly, guarding, his limp growing more pronounced as his emotions unraveled further. Then, in a fit of misstep and frustration, he collided with a tray of instruments and medications, sending it crashing to the floor. The noise pierced through the room, and the sudden loss of balance caused him to stumble back, clutching at his wounded thigh as the burn reopened. Blood seeped through the bandage, mixing pain with shame.

Clint moved to help, but Steve snapped out sharply, "Stop!"

The room froze. The rawness in the Captain's voice startled everyone. His face was pale, his body drenched in sweat, but he refused assistance. Instead, he grabbed the nearest surface to steady himself, pushing through the agony he'd been suppressing for days.

Nancy quickly fetched a new tray, and Georgia waved her off to assist Dr. Kincaid. Calmly, the nurse waited for Steve to regain his footing, then guided him into a reclining wheelchair, positioning him so he could still watch over Natasha.

As she re-dressed his thigh, the Soldier glanced briefly at his friend, his voice ragged and almost apologetic. "I didn't mean…"

The Archer's face softened. "'S'okay."

Georgia patted the Captain's hand gently as she finished bandaging him. By the time he looked back up, Natasha's procedure had ended. Clint was at her side, holding her hand while she lay quietly on the bed, her face peaceful despite the ordeal.

The weight on Steve's shoulders felt unbearable, but he couldn't let it break him. Not when she needed him.

I'll never leave you, Nat. Never. Please… don't leave me.

His thoughts spiraled back into prayer, the one thing anchoring him amidst the chaos. Father… I need Your help… please… I can't do this alone… I… I need her…

Another soldier, born of the same generation that demanded strength at any cost, was buckling under the weight of his actions. I didn't mean for any of it to happen… Cap… I didn't mean to hurt anyone… Despite unloading his anger by beating up thugs, Bucky felt no relief. Not at all. The thirst for revenge and a dark pull toward self-destruction stirred within him, an uncontrollable desire to end it all... He was slipping further with every moment.

His wounds and burns would have been better by now if he hadn't kept fighting… as though punishing both the bad guys and himself.

One thing he always did was finish his mission. There's gotta be a way. That's what Steve would say. There's always a way…

After a few more tries, he finally found the right warehouse. Thoroughly scanning the entire facility and hacking into the systems, he obtained all their secrets without leaving a trace. If not for the pile of bodies, no one would ever know anyone had been there. After gathering a truckload of old files, he knew exactly where to send them. But that was a bonus. He'd already secured what he came for.

Please… don't let it be too late…

Five days into the crisis, tensions had reached a boiling point.

Dr. Kincaid's thorough neurological investigation confirmed that Natasha's brain inflammation had stabilized, and her concussion was almost resolved. However, despite her rapid physical recovery, there were no guarantees about her mental state upon waking.

Though Steve neglected his self-care, the super-serum aided his recovery, with his mobility steadily improving. Yet his growing worry for her well-being led to a setback when he tore the fragile skin on his healing thigh. Consumed by guilt, fear, and despair, his mental state was nearly as concerning as hers.

Balancing the care of both patients, Dr. Watson refrained from alarming the Soldier unless absolutely necessary. After consulting Dr. Banner, they agreed to withhold Dr. Kincaid's findings for now — another secret in the Spy's life.

Even with the world's best equipment and minds at their disposal, Dr. Ross couldn't accelerate the decoding of the neurotoxin any further.

They needed a miracle.

Thursday.

Just past midnight, Bruce sat in his office with Tony, both on edge as they tackled their research.

Breaking the silence, JARVIS, who also managed their correspondence, announced, "Sir, an urgent message has arrived for the Captain. Its origin is untraceable. And it is definitely not a fan letter."

The Genius pulled up the images of handwritten notes, all in Cyrillic. "What are we looking at?"

Peering over his glasses, the Doctor stared at the symbols. "These… are molecular diagrams. Oh my! Get Betty here, now!"

"Right away, Dr. Banner." The AI then explained, "These are KGB files. These chemical formulas match the partial neurotoxin components we decoded and an antidote profile. I have cross-referenced them with our existing model. Additional notes detail mechanisms and test results. I have translated the information, omitting any origin reference. Shall I send them to Dr. Ross?"

"Wait until she's here," Tony commanded. "And not a word to Cap until we're absolutely sure."

Moments later, the Biologist entered from the office next door. Shock flashed across her face as she quickly assessed the data on screen. "Where did this come from?"

"Sorry, Betty. It's classified," the Genius apologized.

"Actually," Bruce cut in, glancing over at her, "Cap mentioned he'd already told you the KGB was behind the neurotoxin, right, honey?"

She gave a knowing smile but kept her promise to the Captain, not commenting further. Instead, she concentrated on the task at hand. "Let's get to work. We may have something here."

With JARVIS' analysis displayed before them, she began to run additional checks. Working through the early hours, the trio of scientists fed the data into their model, testing it against their research. At last, the results aligned perfectly.

"These formulas are genuine," Betty said with a nod. The two Avengers shared a brief, relieved glance and raced off to spread the good news.

Morning had barely begun when they rushed into the CTI room, Clint rubbing his eyes and Thor stifling a yawn behind them.

"Cap! We have the antidote formula!" Bruce announced, breathless with excitement.

"What… How?" Steve's exhaustion evaporated as he stared in disbelief.

As the Archer had hinted before, the Winter Soldier was the key to cure. Who else could have sent this message? With a knowing smirk, Tony held up his StarkPad. "Your pal. Looks like you were right."

Weary from another sleepless night, the Soldier blinked, scanning the old Russian files. But it was the tiny bluejay image, his partner's wartime call sign, that stopped him. A tear slipped down his cheek. Thank you, Bucky…

The Prince smiled broadly. "All shall be well."

Clint quietly approached Natasha's bedside, whispering, "Hang on there, Nat." Squeezing her hand gently, he glanced at Steve, seeing the same quiet hope mirrored in his eyes.

"Alright, let's move!" Tony barked, "JARVIS, get Sam here, and send this data to the lab. We've got work to do!"

By the time Sam arrived at the Tower, Clint was already scanning SHIELD's surveillance reports. They worked together to piece Bucky's steps.

The Archer explained, "Lukin's guys landed in different hospitals over the last few days. Kronas hasn't filed a report, but it's obvious these incidents are all connected."

Falcon's eyes browsed through screens on his StarkPad. "Three warehouses hit, several injured thugs, but no casualties. And get this — those who talked said they were attacked by a ghost."

JARVIS chimed in, "These are the same two facilities Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner targeted last Friday in Chicago and D.C., though their decoy operation harmed no one. The third is a Kronas subsidiary-owned safehouse in upstate New York."

Sam rubbed his forehead. "Dammit. The data was here the whole time. I should've seen it. He used that gun to make me think he was still in West Virginia. And I still have no idea how he escaped the area."

Clint smirked faintly, clapping the young man on the back. "Hey, you've been busting your tail, covering every angle. We were tracking one wounded guy, not expecting Barnes to blow through three warehouses. That's not his usual MO." He rolled his eyes. "The guy's good."

Falcon exhaled, standing up. "Cap knew it all along."

"We found Barnes." Sam said, handing the reports to Steve. "Though, it looks like he found us first."

Leaning against the doorframe, Clint crossed his arms. "That's how he got Lukin's formula."

"And outmaneuvered us all," Falcon admitted.

The Soldier paused to check the information, taking a moment to steady himself. "Bucky's trying to set things right." Closing his eyes, he let out a long, slow breath. Thank You, Father…

With renewed hope, he turned to Sam. "Keep looking. Help him. Make sure he knows we're on his side."

Falcon stood tall, nodding. "Will do, Cap."

Later, Thor stepped in quietly, offering solace in his own noble way. "Good tidings about your brother, Captain. Redemption is a hard path, but even the lost can find their way back. His heart remains true, though shadowed. He shall return whole."

Steve let the words settle, breathing out slowly. "I hope you're right, my friend."

The Prince inclined his head, his confidence unwavering. "I have faith."

After passing Sneg through the decontamination chamber, Clint brought him to his owners. "Pepper thought you'd want to see him."

The Soldier smiled in gratitude, stroking his six-month-old dog. "Hey buddy…"

The giant puppy licked Steve's face, then carefully nestled between him and Natasha, whimpering softly — sensing they weren't well and couldn't play with him. With his dog's comforting presence and the hope that his Redhead would finally recover, the Blond succumbed to exhaustion. It was a heartbreaking sight — Sneg rested his head on their clasped hands, as if guarding them while they slept.

A couple of hours later, the Archer took the dog back. Satisfied with the result, he knew he would be doing this again.

Her sense of security deepened… as they found themselves sheltered within an impenetrable fortress… At first, there was a labyrinth of chilly, white-painted metal beds… in a bleak, sterile environment, like a deserted hospital… They wandered… seemingly aimlessly…yet driven toward a very specific destination…

Suddenly, deep within, a hidden, locked room was unveiled… a treasure she recognized instantly… her room! The blond held the key, but the redhead had known all along… they shared a knowing smile…

She rejoiced as they sank into a large wooden bed, colorful sheets and soft pillows embracing them… They snuggled beneath a fluffy, snow-white fur blanket, warm and cozy, like home… Wrapped in his arms, she felt shielded from all harm… the world outside forgotten… Nothing could reach her here. He was everything she needed… everything she had ever wanted… At that moment, she knew they were meant for each other…

She felt… loved…

The sixth day unfolded with a tangible sense of progress and unity on the Tower's medical floor. With the formulas validated, the scientists utilized the KGB notes as guides for the next steps. Dr. Ross, drawing on her pharmacological expertise, reverse-engineered a small dose of the primer and antidote for In Vitro testing on Natasha's cells. Dr. Banner and Dr. Watson, in their roles as biochemist and toxicologist, checked everything to ensure the medicaments' safety and effectiveness. With multiple PhDs under his belt, Dr. Stark provided critical support on all fronts.

These breakthroughs breathed new life into Steve, easing his anxiety and making him more cooperative. After five days of restricting himself to liquids and soups, he finally decided to eat solid food with his right hand. Dietitian Ameyama happily introduced nutritious, easy-to-eat options like scrambled eggs, soft vegetables, and tender meatballs, which required little effort or coordination, perfectly suited to nourishing him without causing undue stress. He spent the majority of the day resting, allowing his recently re-bandaged thigh to continue healing and even accepted a sedative that evening, getting some much-needed, restorative sleep.

Natasha's minor injuries had almost fully healed by now. Her ankle received massage and heat therapy, and the brain inflammation remained unaltered. As if sensing her Blond's newfound calm, the Redhead spent the day in serene rest, free from nightmares and more serene than she had been in days.

Friday.

On day seven, the In Vitro tests proved highly successful, confirming the antidote's potential to counteract the neurotoxin. The computational model was finalized. With no time for the usual tests and trials typical for this type of research, everything hinged on the accuracy of the In Silico tests. Mistakes were not an option. Even with the supercomputers running at maximum capacity, the full simulation to predict the interactions between the antidote, primer, and neurotoxin would take at least a day. To expedite the process, all non-essential systems were reduced to prioritize the lab's work.

Absorbed in their tasks, most had lost track of the date. It was Valentine's Day — a day that, for many, was a trivial, commercial event but, for others, a symbol of love and connection. Some team members, in their rare moments of rest, managed to call loved ones and exchange quiet promises of future dates.

For Steve, today marked one week since the mission. One week without hearing Natasha's voice… laugh… jokes. Seated next to her, he gently combed his fingers through her auburn tresses, smoothing it away from her face with the intimacy only they shared. He whispered softly, weaving cherished memories of their adventures and quieter moments into the silence between them. Every now and then, his fingers paused on a stubborn knot in her hair, but he worked it loose with care, the simple act bringing him a sense of closeness he so desperately needed.

To the outside world, it was a day of love. For him, it was a day of waiting. Of holding on.

Saturday.

Applying the antidote would hopefully neutralize the neurotoxin, but the real challenge would be confirming that Natasha hadn't been brainwashed. Steve couldn't shake his anxiety.

During the doctors' visit, he seized the opportunity to probe further. "How will she wake up? Could this experience be traumatic for her?"

Dr. Watson nodded. "It's likely she'll be disoriented, and it may take some time before she regains full consciousness, given how long she's been under. But we'll handle any aftereffects."

"Will she remember any of it?"

Dr. Kincaid and the CMO exchanged a glance. Though they didn't want to jeopardize the Soldier's fragile state, they knew he needed to be prepared. The neurologist spoke, his tone measured but honest. "It's hard to say. The neurotoxin caused some inflammation, and that could affect her memory."

"Inflammation?"

"A temporary, mild imbalance — something we detected early and have been keeping a close eye on. Based on the daily tests, there's no sign of permanent damage in her brain structure."

Steve held back from asking why he hadn't been told sooner. There were more pressing matters. "And these tests — can they show if her memory's been affected?"

Dr. Kincaid explained carefully, "There's no definitive test for memory itself. But we're using the most advanced technologies to monitor her brain. So far, everything looks intact and functioning normally — especially in the regions that the inflammation might've impacted, like the ones tied to memory."

When the scientists arrived later, Steve needed reassurance. "Betty, what does this all mean?"

She glanced at Bruce, hesitating.

The Soldier trusted them both — individually brilliant but, together, unstoppable. Right now, the Spy's secrets could risk her life, and he couldn't afford that. "It's okay," he decided, "You can share with each other."

Dr. Ross nodded, looking down at the medical reports before explaining, "As we suspected, the neurotoxin is targeting her memory. But Natasha's enhanced immune system is fighting back, healing her brain faster than the inflammation can spread. They clearly underestimated her resilience."

Dr. Banner's brow furrowed. "Wait… enhanced? So, there's no risk of brainwashing?"

Betty shook her head. "We still don't know how the neurotoxin works. Dr. Kincaid says her brain isn't damaged. But we can't guarantee anything beyond that."

Steeling himself for the challenges ahead, Steve told Bruce, "Then we'll stick to the plan."

By the end of the eighth day, progress was undeniable. However, Steve's anxiety only increased. He continued to eat well, but his sleep became elusive once again.

The final simulations yielded an impressive result. Tony was confident, "93.75% probability of success." All data was double-checked by the scientists as they began synthesizing the appropriate dosages for Natasha. Given the urgency and limited timeframe, they prioritized immediate interactions over environmental concerns, such as the risk of the drugs becoming airborne.

Due to the unknown nature of the toxin, Bruce used containment issues as an excuse to relocate the two superheroes to the most secluded part of the Tower — Hulk's cell. Working in tandem, Betty confirmed that the Soldier's cells showed resistance to the neurotoxin, ensuring he could remain by the Spy's side. Everyone else would stay away.

Sunday.

Apart from the time his mother died, these had been the most torturous days of Steve's life. But as they moved into the specialized isolation unit, he dared to hope that the waiting and anguish might finally be nearing its end.

Robotic arms, controlled by JARVIS, hovered around Natasha's bed, while advanced sensors adhered to her skin, streaming continuous data to the medical team. An additional IV line allowed for periodic blood tests, instantly analyzed to verify the antidote's effects. Once everything was set, they were left alone. The sealed room, absent of doctors or nurses, somehow made him feel stronger, shouldering the responsibility of her care. Despite his own body still healing, he scarcely registered the soreness in his thigh or the lingering sting in his arm. All that mattered was her.

Dr. Ross' voice crackled through the video feed. "The primer will make her cells more sensitive to the antidote and activate enzymes to break down the neurotoxin."

Gently cradling the Spy's hand, the Soldier asked, "Will she feel any pain?"

"No, she shouldn't," Dr. Watson assured him as the automated injection system started.

He dipped his head.

Silence filled the room as the team remotely monitored her. Each minute dragged.

An hour later, Dr. Ross initiated the next phase. "The antidote will block the brain's receptors the neurotoxin was targeting and neutralize any residual drugs."

Filled with hope and fear, he asked, "What happens next?"

"It should take a few hours for the process to complete," Dr. Watson explained.

Tests soon confirmed Natasha's brain was unharmed. Some inflammation remained but was expected to subside shortly.

Steve's gaze never left her face. Praying. Hoping. You can pull through this, Nat. I know you can.

A couple of hours later, her eyelids fluttered open for the first time. Her gaze was unfocused, her blinks slow. His heart leapt. Leaning in, he gently squeezed her hand. "Nat?" But her eyes drifted shut again, slipping back into sleep. It was a small but hopeful sign. The treatment was working.

A tear slid down his cheek. Thank You, Father…

Throughout the ninth day, Natasha waged a silent, exhausting battle against the remnants of the neurotoxin, but tests confirmed she was winning. Color slowly returned to her face. Not fully conscious, she stirred a few times, her movements sluggish, murmuring incoherently in both Russian and English. Occasionally, she offered Steve a faint smile, weakly curling her fingers around his hand for comfort. Each time, his heart ached with longing, wishing she would truly recognize him. In the evening, a sleep inducer was administered to help her rest, giving her body the time it needed to heal. The team relaxed, knowing the next six to eight hours would pass quietly.

As a final precaution, Tony devised a plan for JARVIS to delay the Spy's wake-up readings, ensuring her mental state could be confirmed before allowing the medical team to interact with her. Unbeknownst to them, the Captain overrode the command, instructing the AI to keep the true readings visible only to him. When it came to her privacy and security, his authority was absolute.

Simultaneously, the computational model continued to refine its predictions, using real-time data from her blood tests and the isolation unit's sensors to ensure there were no environmental impacts.

The night passed quietly, with only soft beeps and whispers in the air. Lying beside his Redhead, the Blond clung to her hand. Please, Father… hear my plea… bring her back to me…

Monday, February 17, 2014.

The wait was excruciating. Pacing nonstop, Steve felt on the verge of losing it. His eyes darted to the screens, watching for any sign of change. The steady beeping of Natasha's heart monitor echoed relentlessly, and the slow rise in her heart rate felt agonizingly insufficient.

"Captain, if I may—"

"Any news, JARVIS?" The Soldier cut in.

"No, sir."

"Vitals?"

"Unchanged, sir."

"What about her oxygen levels, or brain activity?"

"No, Captain, that's not—"

"Then what's wrong?" His voice edged with frustration.

"Nothing is amiss, sir. Agent Romanoff's vital signs remain stable, just as expected. No significant changes since you asked… 23 minutes ago. Her prognosis remains positive."

"But it's taking too damn long!"

"I understand your anxiety levels are elevated, sir, which is entirely normal under these circumstances. However, I would advise you to try and relax."

"I… I can't…" Steve muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Captain…" JARVIS insisted. "Even the most perfect Super Soldier requires rest and proper nutrition. Prolonged stress takes a toll."

"I don't care!"

"But Agent Romanoff does," the AI replied smoothly. "I believe she will be quite upset with your current state when she wakes up."

Few could speak to Captain America like that, especially without unsettling him. JARVIS' impeccable blend of respect and precision made him more than a machine in the couple's lives. A friend, as the Spy considered. A constant presence, he helped them at every stage of their relationship, even if blunt in delivering the naked truth.

The Soldier stopped in his tracks, grumbling, "Fine."

"May I suggest a movie?"

Steve sighed. Natasha had always loved her movies. After a deep breath, he conceded, "What'd she want me to watch?"

"Next on her list was The Perfect Score, a 2004 comedy-heist film about high school students. It also marks the first time Mr. Evans and Miss. Johansson starred together."

Even with his mind racing, the Blond lay beside his Redhead, finding solace in her presence. Little by little, the familiar act of watching a movie together brought some comfort, and he tried his best to focus on the story.

Showing the pressure students were under on standardized tests, the plot was light and fun, although incredibly silly. Six stereotypical teenagers from different backgrounds, fearing their SAT scores wouldn't be enough to secure their futures, decided to steal the answers by pulling off a complicated heist.

Having attended George Washington High School in the 1930s, the poor Brooklyn kid couldn't relate to the lives of today's teenagers. Smart and hard-working, his battles had been with frequently missed classes and deadlines because of his failing health, never with his grades. Yet it evoked memories of simpler times with Bucky, who often got into trouble because of girls, dragging Steve along for the ride. Their days of school, working jobs to scrape together nickels.

Natasha's favorite actor portrayed Kyle, the good-hearted guy who dreamed of studying architecture at Cornell University but hadn't scored high enough for the Ivy League. His best friend, Matty, wanted to get into college to be with his girlfriend, but when he didn't do well on the test he had the idea of stealing answers. They convinced Francesca, the smart, rebellious girl, to help them. Raised by a rich absentee father who owned the building where the tests were prepared, she was played by the same actress from Nanny Diaries — who the Soldier already knew had also played the Spy in the Avengers film. As a fellow redhead, Francesca instantly captured Steve's attention, particularly when she envisioned herself as a leather-clad spy in a Matrix-style shootout.

He smiled, squeezing Natasha's hand. "She looks like a mini-you."

Although they weren't a couple, the chemistry between Kyle and Francesca was undeniable, and the actors already had star power back then. As the boy designed the plan and led with motivational speeches, the girl used her computer skills to steal information. It was fun imagining them as younger versions of Captain America and Black Widow.

Much like other high school movies, the teens faced moral dilemmas and navigated their feelings while learning to be a team. In the end, Matty sacrificed himself, getting caught by security so Francesca could escape with the others. Kyle had no other option than to abandon his best friend.

The scene triggered painful memories of losing Bucky, the guilt the Soldier carried having since turned into deep sorrow for all his friend had endured. But before the weight of it could fully sink in, a new development caught his attention. Kyle ended up with the other girl, and Francesca paired with Matty.

The irony wasn't lost on Steve.

Back then, he had struggled with his frail body and insecurities, often envious of Bucky's strength and easy way with the ladies. But now? Thinking of his best friend and his girl… together… He recalled the brief string of jealousy when Natasha had told him, but even then it seemed shallow and irrelevant. Pretending to be a possessive macho boyfriend would be ridiculous; it wasn't who he was. With her, for her, he wasn't that self-conscious boy from Brooklyn anymore. Their relationship was deeper, stronger. There was no if. He trusted her, not just in the field, but with his heart. He also trusted the Bucky he knew, and wanted his friend back — whole, healed. They were both victims of the Red Room, survivors, and the Captain would do anything to have the two people he loved most safe and sound.

Lying beside her, Steve caressed Natasha's hand while the movie credits played on. His thumb brushed softly over her skin, but his mind had drifted away. Just as the students feared for their future, he had been terrified of losing his — losing her. He had let that feeling consume him almost to the point of self-destruction. He hadn't trusted enough — not in the medical teams, not in his friends, and worst of all, not in the faith that had always anchored him.

Unable to lie still any longer, he rose from the bed. He moved to the other side, kneeling beside her, his hands cradling hers. His tall frame hovered over the bedside, allowing him to bow his head and rest his forehead against the edge of the mattress.

Father… please… grant me Your wisdom… help me make things right…

As his heart steadied, clarity began to return. A scene from the movie played in his mind. While sharing her dreams, Francesca had confessed, "I'd just be a mom. Not just a mother. I would be a real mom, who cared more about the title of parent than the one on her business card."

Standing, Steve leaned over Natasha's bed and kissed her forehead, lingering with tenderness. "You'll be a great mom. I know it. You have the biggest heart." His lips parted as he breathed his promise to her. "After all this… we'll do anything you want, the way you want. But if you say so, I'd love a normal life with you." He paused, drawing a shaky breath. "Marriage… kids… we could adopt, right? There are so many out there waiting for a family." As he spoke, the dreams he had always kept hidden began to surface, along with the emotions he could no longer hold back. Tears fell silently and heavily from his deep blue eyes. "Because that's the thing… it's you, only you, Nat. I don't care about anyone or anything else." Gently caressing her face, his thumb traced the familiar contours he knew so well. He pressed his lips to hers softly, pouring all his hope and love into the words that followed. "Please, Nat. Come back to me…"

After days of endless waiting, Natasha had finally broken free from the neurotoxin's grasp. In her dream, she felt the warmth of his touch and heard his plea. 'Come back to me…'

'Steve?' The thought echoed softly, his kiss lingered, drawing her from the deep shadows of oblivion.

His soft words wrapped around her, "I love you… Love you… You…"

Her body stirred, lips parting as a soft hum slipped free. "Hmm…"

His heart leapt. "Nat…? Sweetheart…?"

Her eyelids fluttered open, blinking against the light. "Mmm-hmm…"

Steve's heart raced as he saw her gorgeous emerald eyes focus on him, a flicker of recognition brightening her gaze, accompanied by the faintest hint of a smile.

"Thank God!" he breathed, relief evident as he cradled her face, tears welling up in his eyes. "My love… Are you…"

"Wa…" she whispered hoarsely.

Quickly, he reached for a glass of water and carefully lifted her head, bringing the straw to her lips. "Here, be careful," he urged softly.

Still dazed, Natasha took a few sips, the cool liquid soothing her parched throat. She swallowed slowly, her eyes gradually focusing on his face.

"Better?" he asked gently.

She nodded weakly, her voice still raspy. "Why… crying?"

"I thought I had lost you," he smiled, his tears falling unchecked. "I was so scared…"

His once-strong and muscular frame now appeared gaunt, his beard unkempt, dark circles pronounced under his tired eyes, and his skin pale with healing burns. She squinted. "You… look… like hell."

The familiar spark of feistiness glimmered in eyes, and his heart swelled, certain she was truly herself. A small chuckle escaped him. "JARVIS said you'd be mad at me." His fingers gently grazed her cheek and he kissed her hand. "I was… so lost without you."

"What… happened?"

Pulling a chair beside her bed, Steve sat down, clutching her hand as he began to recount the desperate days they'd all endured. All the while, the AI quietly conducted tests, ensuring her mind hadn't been altered, while also displaying visual instructions on a nearby screen, guiding him on how to care for Natasha.

He offered her another sip of electrolyte water, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. "I couldn't do it… I can't live without you, Nat. Please… don't leave me again." His voice faltered, betraying the depth of his emotion.

Feeling stronger from the gentle massage on her arm, the Redhead reached out, her fingers brushing the scruff of his beard. "I'm sorry, babe… I didn't mean to worry you."

The Blond instinctively leaned into her touch, trying to grasp the moment he had longed for, the ache in his heart easing with relief. "None of this is your fault, my love."

She smiled sheepishly, admitting, "Well… it kinda is. I didn't want to wake up."

He furrowed his brow. "What do you mean? You were sedated…"

"Well… It's not exactly that… I really didn't want to wake up."

"How? Why?"

Her hand drifted across his face, the warmth of her touch grounding him. "They tried to control my mind. I didn't let them."

Steve's breath caught, a mix of fear and admiration swelling within him. "How did you know?"

"I recognized the drug. It triggered the same black-and-white dream. The Red Room held us under until we gave in… surrendered to the darkness, letting them reprogram us. Resisting was painful… They said it could lead to death, falling into the light."

His eyes widened in horror. "Were you in pain?"

"Not really. Nothing I couldn't handle," Natasha soothed. "Told you I've learned how to fight them early on. I just walked between the light and the dark… keeping my mind sane. That's why they stopped trying to use that method on me." She smirked faintly, still weak. "And now I understand why they manipulated the girls into surrendering so quickly. Like Betty told you, in time, our defenses would protect us."

He exhaled deeply, feeling relief and pride mixing in his chest. "She said they underestimated you."

"That's why I didn't wake up sooner."

"What would've happened if you had?"

"They were trying to activate the mission to kill Fury. But I'm not sure it would have worked because my mind's free from their control. Maybe I would've woken up in some catatonic state."

His throat tightened at the thought, which was unbearable. "That's… horrible."

"I really don't know. But I was always going to fight," she reassured him.

The weight of her strength washed over him. "Nat, you're unbelievable." He placed a soft kiss on her hand, a quiet gesture of awe. "Was that why you had nightmares?"

"Yeah. They were pulling me into old fake identities." Her eyes wandered to the screen, where the movie's title still lingered. "But mostly I dreamed of us… We were teenagers… Almost like the ones in this story."

He blinked, momentarily surprised. "Seriously?"

She nodded, a soft smile touching her lips. "And I followed Professor Xavier's advice."

Seeing his confusion, she chuckled. "He told me that whenever I felt lost, I should hold on to you. That's what I did. And you held me and didn't let me go."

"Nat…" His eyes glistened with emotion. "I don't understand. I didn't do anything."

He was always so humble, she realized, even now, when he had been her anchor. "You caught me when I was falling, didn't you? Brought me here. Gave me the support I needed to resist the drug until they found the antidote."

"I… I didn't know… what else to do…" he admitted, still hesitant.

"You stayed with me. I felt you. I dreamed of you, and it was your presence that kept me focused, kept me from falling into their mind games. You inspired me. Gave me a reason to fight… to live."

Steve's heart raced as he absorbed her words, his voice trembling. "You fought your way back to me… I… I prayed so much…"

Natasha's lovely green eyes shimmered with tears as she guided his hand to her chest. "My heart… it's where you always are. I hid here, and you kept me safe."

Their tears mingled as they kissed, holding each other tightly, relishing the powerful love that bound their hearts.

Next movie: The Iceman (2012)

P.S. This chapter was originally posted in March 2014 (5250 words). Revised and expanded in September 2024 (19160 words), the final revision.

I feel privileged & honored to have had the support of many great friends and writers. Back in 2014, ElektraMackenzie & Winterbeauti were amazing. Throughout the decade, my dearest Lovedrr has stood by my side. I can't thank you enough. For this version, I utilized generative AI for research in the medical field, which proved invaluable for its efficiency & accuracy. I highly recommend it.

This chapter is part of the Chris Crush main story. I've been rewriting old chapters to regain my confidence, reposting them without fear of reviews or their absence. All chapters up to this point, number 17, have been rewritten, adding around 56,000 new words! Please take a look. I'm excited to continue refining the remaining chapters and moving forward with the final one and follow-up stories.

Love you all,

xoxo Mari

***Writing is a labor of love. Please, support our authors and leave a review! ***

REFERENCES:

FANFICTION: Chris Crush, by ym4yum1

Chapter 13 "Skin" — [Natasha] I don't want anyone to touch me but you.

Chapter 16 "The Winter Soldier" — [Natasha] Lukin wants to… enslave me… and use me… as a weapon again…

MARVEL COMICS: Marvel databases Earth-616 & MCU backgrounds: Bruce Banner, Betty Ross. Physicians: Linda Carter aka Watson, Keith Kincaid, Cecilia Reyes. Nurses: Georgia Jenkins, Nancy Brown. Chef: Anna Ameyama

Avengers Vol 1 (1967) #41 — [narrator] … leaves the astonished girl in an all-encompassing, almost palpable blackness… (…) … a thousand lights dance madly… an awesome electrical whine fills the Stygian gloom of the chamber… and the Black Widow suddenly finds herself in a ghastly, chimerical world that was never meant to be… [Natasha] That shrill deafening noise… (…) …to fill the mind with the sounds and images of a living nightmare!

Captain America Vol 1 (1993)

#417 — [Steve] Don't know how much of the blast and impact my shield spared her… (…) Got her! Gotta twist… Grab onto her tightly… Use my body to protect hers…

#418 — [Steve] You can pull through this. I know you can. (…) Please… (…) …come back to me…

Captain America Vol 5 (2005)

#14 — [Steve] You were better than this!

#16 — [Sharon] Fury went AWOL.

#17 — [Steve on dodging bullets] I just see faster.

#25 — [Bucky] Still, there's gotta be a way. That's what Steve would say. There's always a way.

#26 — [Bucky] I don't mean for any of it to happen. I don't mean to hurt anyone. (…) I know what Steve would do here. (…) But I'm not Steve. Bar fights remind me of the war, of being overseas. (…) And I get lost in the explosion of violence. Maybe because it's where I belong. (…) I hear bones and teeth breaking under my fists… I can't help thinking that Steve would be ashamed of me right now. And that makes me miss him even more than I realized I could. (…) I can't be the hero he wanted me to be… But I can do one thing…

#28 — [Falcon about Bucky] He's good at hiding. (…) So unless we can lure him somewhere, or predict where he'll be… (…) [Fury] Anyway, the kid's too smart to fall for a trap…

Winter Soldier Vol 1 (2012-2013)

#1 — [Bucky] I've been doing stealth missions most of my life. It's what I was trained for as Cap's partner, back during the war. It's what the Russians used me for.

#8 — [Bucky] I know these aren't innocent men. Mercenaries. Outlaws. Killers for hire. But I keep hurting them after I know they're not going to tell me anything. Because they deserve it. And because I'm angry. And helpless.

#15 — [Bucky] "Remember who you are". Leave it to Steve to think that would fix things. Bring back his long-lost partner. Erase all of the horrible things I've done.

MARVEL CARTOONS:

The Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes (2010) 1x17 "The Man Who Stole Tomorrow" — [Tony] A futurist is someone who tries to predict the future, or in my case, tries to create it. I'm inventing technology for the next century.

Avengers Assemble (2013) 1x05 "Blood Feud" — [Tony about Falcon's armor] Of course it will, I invented it.

MCU TV SHOW: Agents of SHIELD (2013) 1x20 "Nothing Personal" — [Hill] But even they can't mess with Tony's army of lawyers.

MCU MOVIES: Iron Man 3 (2013) set in 2011/2012.

MARVEL MOVIES: Next Avengers Heroes Of Tomorrow (2008) — [Tony to James Rogers] Your father was never very good at doing nothing either.

MOVIES: The Perfect Score (2004) trailer (youtube/watch?v=zow2O6x4oPM)